The Pleasures of Autumn (26 page)

Niall turned away and grabbed a glass from the tray of a passing footman, gulping it down and realizing too late that it contained white wine, not water. He wondered how it would affect the pills Andy had given him, then dismissed it. Whatever happened, he had a job to do and he would
finish it. But no one was particularly interested in talking about Sinead. They were all busy talking about him.

‘But what a find!’ One Domme looked to Sinead for permission, then ran her hand through Niall’s hair. He gritted his teeth and stood still. The woman motioned him to his knees, and he resisted.

To his surprise, she flushed. ‘I apologize.’ She turned to Sinead. ‘With your permission, Madame?’

Sinead nodded and the corset-clad Domme pulled his chain, forcing him down. He could have resisted of course, no one here had anything approaching his physical strength, but it would have blown their cover. He dropped down to the floor beside her, fighting the urge to knock her fingers away.

She patted his head and trailed her fingers down his chest. ‘So beautifully trained. Truly a trophy sub.’

‘A trophy sub?’ Sinead said.

‘Oh yes, one of those rare submissives who have everything. Beauty, brawn, intelligence, manners, even attitude. It’s obvious that he’s devoted to you.’

‘That’s his job, and he knows it,’ Sinead said, but he could hear the tremble in her voice. Well she might tremble. His temper was growing hotter by the second.

He watched her drain her glass while avoiding his eyes. She stood up. ‘I think it’s time I put my pet to bed. Good evening, ladies.’

With that she beckoned him to follow her and walked towards the staircase. He would follow for now but when they got to the bedroom, it would be a completely different story.

As they headed up to their room – Sinead still in the lead, Niall following behind – his eyes never left her ass. There were so many things he wanted to do to her that he didn’t know where to start.

And, he realized, he was free to do them. Sinead might look as delicate as a hot-house flower, but underneath, she was as tough as a dandelion. Knock her down and she would come back. He was looking forward to it.

As soon as he shut the door behind them, he unbuckled the collar and flung it off. Damned thing had chafed him for the last hour, and not just his skin. His pride hurt too.

He stared at Sinead, knowing his hunger showed in his eyes. He didn’t care. He was through trying to hide who he was. Sinead could deal with the real Niall. The Viking. It was time to live up to his heritage and do some pillaging.

‘Strip,’ he told her. He made no effort to be polite. It was an order, non-negotiable. The atmosphere in the dimly lit room was electric. Sinead’s breathing quickened. Holding his eyes, she unfastened the few bits of clothing she wore and dropped them to the floor.

Downstairs, in front of all the guests, they had been playing. Now playtime was over. It was clear that they both knew it.

He picked up the collar and stepped closer to her. ‘Your turn now. Hold up your hair.’

Obediently, she lifted her hair up and held it out of the way while he buckled the collar around her neck. He checked that it was snug, but not too tight. It was a little wide on her, forcing her to hold her chin up higher than usual.

She started to lower her arms.

‘I didn’t say you could do that. When I give an order, you obey it until I say you can stop. Keep holding your hair up. I want to look at you.’

She glared but stood there, holding her hair up. She looked magnificent wearing a collar. She was born for it. Taking his time, he examined her from head to toe.

God, she was gorgeous. He feasted on the sight of her body, her voluptuous breasts – the perfect size for his big hands, topped by dark pink nipples. They crinkled and tightened under his eyes until they were rigid. His mouth watered to suck them.

He dropped his gaze, taking in her ribcage, now rising and falling with her quick breaths. The narrow waist, so small in comparison to the bounty above and below. He itched to encircle it with his hands. He bet he could fit them around it.

The rounded hips were a contrast to the delicate thrust of her hipbones. As he watched, she sucked in her stomach.

‘Why are you doing that?’

‘I’m getting fat.’ Her voice was a little breathless.

‘No.’ He wasn’t going to argue with her about silly stuff. Women obsessed about being fat, and he could never understand why. Did they not know that when a man looked at a naked woman, he was not looking for flaws?

Her mons was smooth, hairless. Not that he objected but again it struck him as out of character for the prim museum curator. Now, if she had been Red, the most sought-after Domme on the scene …

‘Why are you smooth there?’

She flushed. ‘I swim, and there was a special offer on laser at my local beauty salon, so …’

He nodded, not really believing her, but it wasn’t the time to make an issue of it.

Her legs were smooth, lightly muscled and shapely, and tapering down to long feet with surprisingly crooked toes.

‘Turn around.’

Still holding her hair out of the way, she did. In this position, her arms were elegant and graceful. Not that she wasn’t graceful in almost any pose. She had a presence, a subtle something that drew the eye, even when she was cataloguing old books.

Her back view was as outstanding as her front, and showcased her magnificent ass. Pale and firm and rounded, it begged to be spanked. Oh, he would, but he had more in store for her first.

‘Turn back to me again.’

She did.

‘You can take your hands down now.’

Glaring, she dropped her arms, shaking them slightly. There was a limit to how long someone can hold her arms up before the muscles protested.

‘Now, kneel down.’

‘What?’ Shocked, she jerked back.

‘You heard me. Kneel.’

She didn’t move. ‘Or what?’

He could tell she was weighing the consequences of disobeying him.

‘There is no “or what” option.’

She looked down at the chain hanging from the collar. They both knew he could use it to pull her down to her knees. He didn’t. This wasn’t about forcing her into anything.

He held her eyes and for endless moments, she stood there, not moving. He said nothing, waiting for her to obey him. Finally, still glaring at him, she slipped to her knees.

‘Good girl.’ She remained in position and he smiled at her. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Like an idiot.’ But the flush on her face told a different story.

He picked up two sets of cuffs and handed them to her. ‘You can get up now and put these on.’ The cuffs were made of soft leather and had long chains attached to them.

She sorted them out and buckled one set of cuffs around her wrists, then knelt down again to put the other set on her ankles. He checked and was pleased to see she had fastened them tightly enough. ‘I’m only doing this because I owe you one for the scene downstairs, you know.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’

He caught the wrist cuffs and attached them to the collar. Then he picked up the end of the chain dangling from her collar. She hadn’t noticed the nipple clamps on it, but he had. Carefully, he attached one to each nipple. He tightened them, not enough to hurt, but enough that she’d feel it.

She gasped.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t torture you,’ he told her. ‘Much.’ Her breathing was light, fast. Standing this close to her, he could smell her arousal.

‘You are so full of it,’ she said. ‘You’re getting off on this.’

‘What red-blooded man wouldn’t? But this is special.’ And it was. He was finally showing her who he really was, letting the real man out to play. And she was loving it.

He pulled the big padded armchair out and told her to get over the arm. She looked at it dubiously, not sure what he meant. ‘Lean over the arm, bum in the air, legs straight.’

She did, bending gracefully.

‘No, legs apart.’

She turned to scowl at him, but obediently moved her legs apart. The scent of her arousal deepened.

Niall ran his hand over her back, down over her magnificent bottom, then spanked it. Not hard. Not yet. She gasped as the movements caused the clamps on her nipples to move, reminding her forcibly of their presence. He increased the intensity of the spanks a little, noticing how she moved back subtly into his hand. She might be grousing and giving him dirty looks, but her body was enjoying everything he was doing to it.

He put a steadying hand on her hips and felt between her legs. Oh yes, so wet. He couldn’t resist licking his fingers, just to enjoy the sweet, salty taste, then went back to tormenting her. Her clit was hard and swollen, a lure to his fingers. Every time he grazed it, she reacted. God, she was so responsive.

His cock hardened. He was tempted to sink into her
right now, but he restrained himself. Tonight he was going to show her who was in charge. They had been dancing around each other for days, and he had been letting her get away with murder. It was time to establish who was the Dom in this relationship.

He deepened his caress, pulling moans from her. Her hips moved involuntarily, seeking a firmer pressure. Her rich liquid covered his hand.

‘You have to ask my permission to come.’

‘You’re kidding?’ She turned to stare at him.

‘You can’t come without permission. You have to ask.’ Again, there was no ‘or else.’ She could fill in that bit herself if she wanted. He wasn’t going to waste time doing it for her.

‘You bastard.’ She lapsed into clench-lipped silence for long minutes while he lavished more caresses on her. He pumped two fingers into her dripping pussy, and she gave in. ‘Please may I come?’

‘Of course. Good girl.’ He was so pleased with her.

With the permission obtained, she relaxed into his touch, allowing him to push her higher and harder. She absorbed the pleasure he was pressing on her, enjoying it, wallowing in it. He pumped harder and flicked her clit with his thumb.

With a wail, she fell apart, collapsing into a shuddering heap on the over-stuffed chair.

He helped her to stand and hugged her, supporting her while she quivered. He felt like a god.

‘Did you enjoy that?’ he asked.

She nodded, her head tucked in under his chin. Sometimes he forgot how small she was. He tipped her face up
to him with a finger under her chin. ‘You forgot to ask permission.’

Indignation widened her eyes. ‘I did ask.’

‘Ages before you came. Did you think it was a rolling permission?’

Her face shifted slightly. She knew what she had done. ‘Well, I thought if I waited until the last moment, you might not give it. And I’d be all worked up for nothing.’

He laughed. She was so smart. ‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘I have to admire your logic, but not your submissiveness. I probably will give you permission, but not if you ask too early. That’s a punishable offence. So now I’m going to punish you.’

‘That’s not fair,’ she said, but didn’t move away.

He unclipped her hands from her collar, and then whipped off the nipple clamps. ‘Ow!’ She cupped her breasts in her hands before she glared at him. ‘That hurt.’

She cuddled her abused nipples tenderly, the picture of indignation.

He grinned. ‘That was the idea.’

He pulled her hands away and clipped the wrist cuffs behind her back. He spun her around so that she was facing the full-length mirror on the wall.

‘What do you see?’

Niall stood behind Sinead, his body covered in the tough leather armour. Next to her, he was bulky and brawny, raw male strength in an extra-large sized package. Whereas Sinead was delicate and fragile, flushed cheeks and titian hair making her look younger than she was.

In a voice of discovery, she said, ‘I look amazing.’

And she did. The heavy black collar provided a stunning contrast to her pale skin, and the red hair tumbling down behind it added to the picture. Clipping her wrists together pushed her breasts forwards, so that the pink nipples pointed at the mirror. The chain from the collar dangled between her breasts, the silver links clinking gently every time she moved.

‘You were born to wear my collar,’ he told her, his voice rough.

It was true. He knew this was special, a time out of real life, and they would go back to their own lives soon, but he didn’t know how he would be able to let Sinead go. She had burrowed under his skin, become a part of him. Tearing her out would leave a gaping hole that would bleed and bleed.

He didn’t want to think about that. They still had now, and he would make the most of it. He put his hands around her waist. Yes, with a little squeeze, his fingers did meet. His hands were dark against her pale skin.

‘They would have loved you back in the time when women wore corsets. You have a tiny waist.’

She tensed.

‘Don’t be silly. Women then had no rights, couldn’t vote, couldn’t go to college, couldn’t hold jobs. Typical man – wanting to go back to that sort of time.’

‘You know, this is not the time for a political debate. I’ll have to find a way to silence you.’ He looked at the array of toys on the panel beside the door. One thing he’d say for Hermione, she provided great hospitality for her guests. He picked up a ball gag and a rubber snaffle.

Sinead stiffened. ‘Don’t even think about it. I am not a
horse, so I’m not having a bit in my mouth. And that ball is far too big. I’d choke.’

‘There are holes in it, you won’t have any trouble breathing,’ he pointed out, but he put it back. It might be a bit much for her first time.

If it really was her first time, a nasty little voice in the back of his mind jeered.

‘Let’s keep things simple.’ He picked up the chain dangling between her breasts and put it up to her mouth. ‘Hold this between your teeth.’

‘Bastard!’ she said, but she opened her mouth and took it. Now she could speak, but was muffled, and certainly wasn’t going to chat about politics.

He picked up a small riding crop and tapped it against her nipples. There was no weight behind it but she reacted beautifully, jerking back as if she had been shot. ‘You’re a softy, aren’t you?’

She clenched her teeth over a retort, but the narrowed eyes warned him that she would remember his comment. He grinned.

He found a pair of magnetic nipple clamps, jewelled and pretty. He sucked each nipple, stroking it to a firm point with his tongue. When she was moaning and twisting restlessly, he slipped them on. She tensed, but they were gentle. At first. He knew that when she had been wearing them for a little time, she would feel them.

He slid his hand into the back of her hair and gripped it firmly, pulling her head back. She held her ground but the pupils of her eyes dilated. Oh yes, she liked this.

Niall kissed and nibbled his way up her neck, listening to her breathing roughen. He nipped her earlobe before
he let her go. She swayed unsteadily, so he pulled some pillows from the bed and scattered them on the ground.

‘Sit down,’ he told her.

She didn’t argue, but folded her knees, graceful as a faun, and settled on the silk-covered pillows. How did she do that, move so elegantly even with her hands clipped behind her? He unfastened them. ‘Now play with yourself.’

‘Humf?’ Even around the chain in her mouth, her voice was full of indignation.

‘I want to watch you come. I want to see your face. See the flush heating your skin. It’s a huge turn-on for me.’

She clenched her teeth on the chain, but said nothing and nodded. He settled himself in the big armchair, ready to be aroused.

She tried. She slid her hand down along the side of her breasts, grazing the nipple clamp and hissing as the tiny movement sent a jolt through her. She moved down across her stomach and dropped a hand onto her mons. One finger dipped lower, and she moved it slowly and gently.

‘Open your legs. I want to see what you’re doing.’