Read An Honest Woman (Erotic Romance) Online
Authors: Stephanie Silvers
An Honest Woman (Erotic Romance)
An Honest Woman
by
Stephanie Silvers
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Copyright © 2012
Warning: This work contains scenes of graphic sexual nature and it i
s written for adults only(18+).
All characters depicted in this story are over 18 years of age
.
Jason spread the elastic between his fingers. It would be easy to slide it over his wrist again—easy but impossible at the same time. He hooked it over his fingertip and pulled it taut, ready to flick it into the trash bin, but relaxed his fingers, letting it fall back to the desk. It was just a cheap hairband. He picked up a package of them for three dollars at WalGreens the night before he brought Laura back to his house. There were eleven more at home. Each of them identical to the one on his desk.
The phone on his desk chirped, and then his administrative assistant—he only made the mistake of calling Pepper his secretary once—pulled his attention away from the completely unremarkable black hairband.
“Are you ready to call it a night?” Pepper’s voice came through the phone.
“No.”
“I have a family.”
How late was it? Jason wasn’t sure. He’d been in a daze the entire day—the entire week if he was being honest. Ever since he walked Laura to her car and sent her on her way with a smile and a wave, he hadn’t been himself. He couldn’t keep his meetings straight. He sent off all his work to his paralegals. Pepper had been taking the brunt of the ire from his angry clients, and even her patience was wearing thin.
“We all have to make sacrifices.”
The call cut off, and ten seconds later the office door flung open, Pepper steamrolling in on two-inch heels. “What is going on with you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t been yourself for the past week. Come to think of it, you weren’t quite acting like yourself last week, either.”
“Nothing is going on with me.” Not anymore, anyway. The previous week, when he had his naughty accountant Laura tied to a fucking-machine in his basement/dungeon, he walked through the office with a certain bounce in his step. He smiled a little easier, and he flew through his work, eager to get it done by lunchtime. He kept her on the fucking-machine as a punishment for her, but it didn’t do him any favors. The entire time he was supposed to be working on briefs, he was thinking about her lithe, sweating body, flushed skin, pumping hips, and exhausted but sincere moans as the dildo drove into her swollen pussy again and again and again…
“Jason? Hello? Where did you go just now?”
“Nothing…I mean, nowhere. Never mind. Just…go. Have a good night, okay?”
“Look, boss, you need to pull it together. I’m keeping this law firm afloat right now, but I’m not a wizard. If you’re not careful, everything’s going to come crashing down around your head.”
A fair warning. He already felt like the earthquake had started—the ground was constantly moving beneath him, shifting and buckling, sending him flying in new directions. Now the roof was going to come crashing down, too? All because of Laura. All because she was greedy and stupid enough to get caught, and he was opportunistic and horny. Not just horny. If he just had an itch to scratch, there were plenty of women he could call. But he’d specifically sought out Laura. He specifically leveraged the situation so he could get her into his bed—and into his BDSM dungeon. He specifically wanted to hurt her, wanted to break her down until he could rebuild her into his perfect slave.
If he had longer than a week with her, he knew he could do it. She was a natural submissive, and she was just beginning to learn it when their seven days came to an end.
“I mean it. What is going on with you? Is it a woman?”
Jason stood and whipped his jacket from the back of the chair. “Look, Pepper, thank you for caring.” He took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Really, I mean that. But…you’d be well advised to mind your own business on this one.”
“If you’re going to keep me four hours late every single night, I think I have a right to know what the hell is going on, boss.”
“Okay, great. We’ll have dinner one day, and I’ll tell you all about it, okay?”
She nodded, and he released her arms, taking long strides to reach the door before she could call him back. He didn’t know where he was going. He couldn’t go home. There were too many memories of her there. Even in his bedroom because he had
stupidly
brought her up the stairs and laid her out on the silk sheets and focused all his attention on the nuances of her body in what was meant to be the cruelest of the tortures he’d visited on her. Somehow, instead of hurting her, he’d only managed to scar himself.
Maybe he could go get a drink somewhere? No. He wasn’t in the mood to run into somebody he knew, wasn’t in the mood to drink alone, wasn’t in the mood to call anybody. He stepped into the elevator, walking into a cloud of somebody else’s perfume. Perfume that smelled like Laura’s. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, submerging himself in her scent. There were still a few items in the dungeon that smelled like her, too, even though everything he’d used on her was either clean or sterile. Maybe it was just his imagination. Or her memory haunting him.
He practically fled from the elevator into the parking garage. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life like this. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind, either. What if he found somebody else? Somebody just like her, with red hair and blue eyes and pretty titties…no, somebody opposite of her. Somebody with raven hair and generous curves—maybe even a trained sub so he wouldn’t have to fight so much. Laura had lived up to her end of the bargain, but she’d been so willful.
Jason had invested equal amounts of energy into thinking about Laura and avoiding her, so the sight of her in the parking lot brought him to an abrupt halt. She was five or six cars down the row, standing next to the driver’s door with her head down, thumb traveling quickly over the screen of her phone. She wore oversized dark glasses, and her hair was free of pins, partially obscuring her face, but he still knew it was her. He knew every intimate detail of her body, and he would recognize her at any distance, in any situation.
She was too engrossed with her phone to notice him. He had time to turn back to the building. No, why would he do that? He actually wanted to talk to her. Running from her wouldn’t do him any good, even if that was his first impulse. A part of him was angry at his uncertainty—what was there to be uncertain about? Laura belonged to him. She was
his
. That’s why he kept the black band he wore on his right wrist the entire week she was in service to him. Their bargain may have been for seven days, but something had happened between them. Had she felt it, too? Or was she happy to be rid of him?
“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?” Her angry question traveled across the parking lot with perfect clarity, breaking his paralysis. As he got closer, he saw her yank the Bluetooth out of her ear and slam her fist against the closed door. He heard the thud, too, and quickened his pace, eager to reach her before she could do her smooth (extremely sensitive) skin any further damage.
“Laura!”
She spun around to face him, but it was impossible to read her expression. Was she happy to see him? Or angry? If she took off her glasses, he would be able to read every nuance of her lovely face. She wore every emotion like a badge, allowed every thought to be reflected in her clear eyes.
“Jason.” Her voice was measured. Cool.
“What’s going on? You sounded upset.”
She gestured at her blue Honda Escort. “I need a jump, and my roommate can’t come over. I’ll just call Triple-A or something. I don’t know. I told my grandmother I’d be by tonight.”
This wasn’t the first time Jason heard about Laura’s grandmother. He had no proof the fine lady actually existed, but she was the excuse Laura offered when he caught her fleecing money from his law firm. Her grandmother needed medication that her insurance didn’t cover, they were desperate, she would never do anything like this if it wasn’t dire, she’d never, ever do it again, etc. He didn’t know if he believed her, but her desperately offered story gave him the opening he needed.
I’m not the sort of man to take medication from an old woman. But I won’t be stolen from either, Laura. You
will
compensate me for every penny you stole.
Do you want to sleep with me? Fine.
No, Laura. I want far more than that. I want everything
.
“I can give you a jump.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I mean…I know you’re super busy. I don’t want to keep you from your plans.”
“I don’t have any plans tonight. And I have a set of jumper cables. Just sit tight for a second.”
As soon as he said the words, he regretted them. They fell from his mouth easily, of course, because he said them a thousand times before. While she had her wrists tied together and hung over a hook six feet above the floor. While she was spread eagle on the St. Andrew’s Cross. When she was bent double over, her wrists locked to her ankles, her legs spread, her pussy lips clipped apart, her hole already stretched open from a night of fucking.
Just sit tight.
“Okay.” Her agreement was so quick, so effortless, that he knew it was second nature to her now. So automatic that it didn’t even need to be voiced. She wasn’t going anywhere.
He jogged over to his car, unlocking and starting it with a single push of a button. He pulled the car into the free space beside her, angling it so the cables would reach between the batteries. She watched silently as he connected the cars, crawling into the driver’s seat at his nod. He was tempted to sabotage the effort, to keep her near him for a little bit longer, but if she was trying to get to her grandmother, he had no right to be an obstacle.
It only took a few revs of the engine to charge her battery. By the time Jason stood, his erection was half-gone, and he was able to summon a sincere smile.
“There you go. Anything else I can help you with, ma’am?”
“Yeah, actually, there’s one thing.” She licked her lips, and just like that his dick was hard as a rock. He was glad the car hid his groin from sight.
“What’s that?”
“I…uh…left my purse at your place.”
“You did? I didn’t see it.”
“Down in the…basement.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say something sooner? Do you have your wallet at least?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been driving without a license for a week. I don’t think I’ve ever been such a careful and conscientious driver.”
“Well, why don’t you follow me home?”
“That’s not going to be too much trouble?”
“Not at all. You just take a left at…”
“I know the way,” she interrupted him.
“Right. Okay. See you in a few minutes.”
Jason needed every second of the drive home to pull himself together and get his thoughts in order. By the time he pulled into his driveway, he at least had his libido under control. Now all he needed to do was get through the five minutes it would take to find her purse and send her on her way. He should have never invited her over. Why not just bring the purse to work with him the next day and leave it locked in her desk over the weekend?
Well, at least now he had a plan for the rest of the night. Once she was gone, he’d get drunk and jerk off to memories of her until he finally passed out.
***
What was she doing? What
the hell
was she doing? Didn’t she promise herself she would never, ever step foot in Jason’s house, let alone his dungeon, ever again. Yet there she was. Driving to his house, like a goddamned fool. Why didn’t she just ask him to bring it to work on Monday? She’d already survived a whole week without it. She didn’t even have any plans for the weekend that required her ID, so what the
fuck
was she doing?
Maybe she was crazy. Maybe Jason drove her insane or brainwashed her or something. She never once stopped thinking about him in the past seven days. Jason was on her mind when she woke up, and when she fell asleep. Of course, she didn’t get a second of relief at work with his name on everything. He was a constant, invisible presence in her life, on her mind, looking over her shoulder. Watching.
Just like their week together. Even when he left, he was right there, his final command ringing through her ears, demanding her good behavior. She missed the sound of his voice. More than once in the previous week she took a longer route to her desk, detouring so she could walk by his office and maybe hear him on a call or talking to Pepper. It was risky to go that way, but she couldn’t help herself. Really, truly could not help herself. She didn’t just miss the sound of his voice. She craved it.
Craved it. Like a junkie.
Laura followed the route to Jason’s house like she’d traveled it a thousand times, though she’d only been there once. Two weeks ago she followed him from the law office to his house—which was a lot closer to a mansion than she had been expecting—her heart pounding in her ears, her palms clammy with nerves. She did not want to go to jail, and the alternative he offered was more than acceptable to her. She hadn’t always been the buttoned-up accountant. She hadn’t always been uptight.
Jason hadn’t been her first Master.
In a way, turning herself over to him and letting him lock her in his dungeon was like going home. Maybe she was sick in the head…maybe that was the problem. Maybe she didn’t miss
him
, she missed the lifestyle.
No, that was bullshit. Laura tried not to bullshit herself when she could avoid it. Jason might not have been her first Master, but he’d been the best. She did miss the lifestyle, but she wasn’t yearning for any of the other Doms she met over the years. She yearned for
him
.
And now she was going back to his house.
Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly
.
If she had thought she was in any real danger, she wouldn’t have agreed to follow him back. But he’d only been interested in recouping the debt she owed him. A simple transaction. Just because he was always on her mind didn’t mean she was always on his.
He was waiting for her on the front porch. She stood from the car, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She approached him with calm, even strides, returning his smile with a small nod as she walked up the stairs like she was in complete control of the situation. He moved a little stiffly, unlocking the door and holding it open for her to enter. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the air changed. His house smelled good, like him, and it was hard not to slip into her previous role as soon as the familiar scent tickled her nose.
He said nothing, only walked ahead of her to lead the way. There was an uncomfortable silence as she followed him down to the basement, her stomach flip-flopping, the hair on her arms and the back of her neck standing on end. Her cheeks felt hot, and her skin was tingling because she descended the stairs into the room that had been her home for a week.
Well, not quite a week. Because on the sixth day, he surprised her by taking her from her temporary jail cell, carrying her up the stairs to his bathroom, where he bathed her, and then to his bed where he’d done something completely unexpected. He made love to her, branding her with his fingers and his lips, claiming every inch of her body. She’d spent the entirety of her seventh day there in his bed, stretched out on his silk sheets, feeling more like a princess than a prisoner.
“Um, I’m not sure where it is. Like I said, I haven’t seen it.” He broke the silence.
“I’m pretty sure I left it under the bench over there. Can I look?”
He gestured at the room, silently allowing her to move freely through the space. She didn’t need to ask for permission, and he didn’t need to make it a point to give it to her, but she would have never walked through the dungeon without his specific permission. It wasn’t her domain. It was his.
Every piece of furniture in that room held a specific memory. He cycled her through everything he owned, used every toy, every weapon, every whip and bench, all of his chains. She used to stare at his impressive collection on the walls surrounding her, passing the hours he left her alone by trying to guess what he would use on her next. She was never right. He always surprised her. Always kept her guessing. She supposed that made sense—he was the only person who ever caught her clever work with the books. She was used to being the smartest person in the room. She was more impressed than angry, but more scared than anything, when he cornered her with his proof.
Laura found her bag tucked in a corner under a workbench—the kind you would normally find in a garage. This one had been repurposed for a more precise work; he used it to make his own paddles. He’d confided that it was a small side business, too, bringing him a steady amount of work. She assumed he made good money from it. Handmade leather paddles were always in high demand. Especially ones made with the balance and care he used. She had personal knowledge that it was truly a superior experience. Because he did the work there, the room smelled strongly of leather, and the tingling under her skin localized between her legs, molten heat making her melt from the inside out.
“Here it is. I’ll…thanks for your help tonight. I would still be stranded there if it wasn’t for you.”
“I was more than happy to help. If it happens again, you have my number.”
She laughed softly. “Thanks anyway, but I’m sure you have better things to do than be my white knight with jumper cables.”
“I don’t. And don’t laugh, I’m serious.”
“I…” She could see he was serious, but she didn’t understand why. He didn’t owe her anything. Before he made the accusations she couldn’t deny, he’d always been politely distant with her, available if she needed him but otherwise completely indifferent. It was his apparent indifference that made her think she could get away with skimming a little off every now and again. “So if I called you at three in the morning because I have a flat tire on the side of the 10…”
“I’d be there by a quarter after three in the morning.”
“Because I’m one of your valuable employees?”
He laughed. “Hardly. You’re probably stealing from me right now. As the guy who signs the checks, I’d be much better off with you stranded on the freeway.”
“Then why?”
He lifted his hand, revealing the black band around his right wrist. Slipping the band on was the first thing he did once he had her in the dungeon. She didn’t need him to explain the significance, but he had with a simple, “It’s a promise.” He wore it in recognition that he was her Master, and she was his priority. Nobody outside the lifestyle would even notice. Those who lived it would recognize the signal.
“Our deal was for a week.” Like she needed to remind him of the details of the deal he’d offered. “And if you don’t let me leave, it is kidnapping.”
He frowned, looking deeply unhappy at the comment. She wished she’d bitten her tongue. “I have no intention of holding you against your will. And I’m not asking for anything more than what you’ve already agreed to.”
“But you’ll still be there whenever I call…for anything I need? You’ll still take care of me like…”
“Like you belong to me.” He stepped closer, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. His fingers were warm, and it took all her restraint to stop herself from turning into his touch, seeking the heat of his skin. She felt caught, hypnotized by his dark eyes and the smell of leather and green leaved tea. “I always take care of what’s mine.”
Laura caught her breath. His declaration couldn’t have been clearer. Her body certainly got the message, and she wouldn’t be surprised if her arousal was strong enough that he could smell it. Now it was up to her. If she wanted what he offered or if she wanted to turn her back on everything he stood for, it was entirely up to her. This was the moment, and whatever she decided, she had to own that decision. No regrets. No second chances.
She shuffled her feet closer, pressing her body to his, her hand going to the back of his neck. He was only a few inches taller than her, but she still stretched up on the tips of her toes to press her lips to his. He opened to the kiss, and she delicately slipped her tongue into his mouth, melting against the solid wall of his body.
“You know what this means,” he asked, lifting his head from hers.
Laura nodded. She knew. “I…I felt more like myself with you than with anybody else in the past five years. I can’t stop thinking about you…I can’t stop thinking about what you do to me…for me.”
“I didn’t intend…”
“Me neither.”
Their lips came together again, his hands going to her hips. He lifted her off the floor, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, surrendering to his strength. His muscles flexed, bulging against her, and there was no mistaking the other bulge in his pants. He was hard as a rock, his pants tenting in front of him, his cock pressing into her thigh. She threaded her fingers in his hair, kissing him with all of her relief and hunger, pouring herself into the caress.
Her heart beat against her ribs, and her pulse jumped and skittered in her throat. She felt flushed and cold at the same time, waves of arousal flowing from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She was an attractive woman, but Jason made her feel like she was more than attractive—she felt like the personification of sex. As though she’d been built for one purpose, and it took Jason’s clever hands, his sharp brain, his knowing eyes and firm voice to unlock that true purpose.
She tugged at the buttons on his shirt, ripping them away without a second thought. He’d ordered her to undress him before, and she’d taken such care to slide the buttons free, to smooth the wrinkles from his fine silk shirt, to treat each thread like it was made of pure gold. Now she didn’t give a fuck. Instead of a fine piece of clothing that deserved to be treated with care, it was the unyielding obstacle keeping her from satin skin stretched over a wall of rock, solid muscle. She muttered a quick
sorry
as buttons hit the floor like raindrops, but he either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
Once the buttons were gone, she pushed the cream colored shirt off his shoulders, yanking it down his arms. He lifted one hand and then the other, allowing her to pull the material free and toss it indifferently to the floor. But once he was naked, she realized that her job was only half done. She yanked at her top with no more care than she showed his, ripping it off, exposing the tops of her full breasts to his mouth. He zeroed in on her straining tits immediately, the skin no sooner exposed than covered with hot kisses and teasing, maddening nibbles, tiny, hungry bites that had her twisting and arching towards the sharp points.
During their seven days together, he was never shy about hurting her. She never shied away from the pain, always making it a point to arch her body towards the whip, the flog, the paddle, the palm of his hand. She hadn’t done that because she knew it would please him—she only did it because it pleased her. Just the pressure of his teeth was enough to flood her pussy with fresh arousal, her clit throbbing for the attention her nipples received between his rows of pearly whites.
Laura unsnapped her bra and sent it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. It felt like his mouth never left her body. Like it was everywhere at once. It was all so wonderfully familiar, but not what she was after. Or rather, not the only thing she wanted. Every detail of their week together stood out in stark reality in her mind, and yet the whole week passed in a blur of unfulfilled desire. There was one thing she desperately wanted to do. Perhaps he had known that. Perhaps he had purposefully kept her from indulging in her biggest fantasies. But he wasn’t going to keep her from her desires that night.
She dropped her feet to the floor, sinking down to her knees as he released his tight hold on her. He looked down at her with heavy eyes, his dark irises disguised by his thick fringe of blonde eyelashes. She had his full attention, and that fact sent a thrill down her spine that she couldn’t even begin to name. She recognized that look. She knew it because she
always
had his full attention. But it was still different, because now she knew it was about her and not a debt she owed him.
Laura yanked at his pants, pulling the button free and spreading the zipper open. They came down his hips with a rough yank, and his long, hard cock burst free, not confined by any underwear. His cock stuck straight out in front of him—a long uncut masterpiece. Her mouth watered at the thought of it, and she was practically drooling at the sight of it. He liked to blindfold her and fuck her with dildos, toys, the handles of his floggers, even items she was pretty sure came from the kitchen. But she always, always, always knew when his thick bulbous head spread her pussy lips open, nudged at the tight opening, and then slipped inside, invading her swollen, bruised channel.
She stuck her tongue out, licking at the clear liquid she found at the top, pulling the taste of salt and
man
into her mouth, licking it up like it was a treat more special than ice cream. In a way, it was. He never let her taste his cum, not once in their week together, and this was like getting a hint of ambrosia. And when it came to the nectar of the Gods, a hint was almost as good as a whole mouthful.