Authors: Kirstie Abbot
With the cuffs buckled round her ankles, Adam instructed her
to assume her first position in front of him but to offer her wrists to him for
the other set of cuffs.
Now for the collar. He took up a position behind his sub,
held the collar to her throat and when she’d gathered her hair together, he
fastened the collar and locked it in position with a small padlock.
“Beth, I want you to know that the collar you wore for me on
Saturday night was something I had made just for you. I’ve been waiting almost
three years to put it on you and although it is a collar, it doesn’t mean I
expect you to behave like a sub when you’re wearing it. Its significance is a
private thing between us and only someone else in the community will recognize
it for what it is.
“However, while you wear this collar you will submit to me
and your focus will be on me and only me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Adam.”
She wanted this, wanted him, so much.
A tumult of emotions was doing crazy things to her insides—excitement,
nerves, apprehension—even shyness, although that, she realized with a mental
jolt, was rapidly dissipating. She really was getting used to being naked
around Adam.
A small smile teased the corners of her mouth. Adam loved
her, he thought her beautiful—she knew she wasn’t but around him she could feel
beautiful. And she was wanted. It would never cease to amaze her that a man
such as Adam, who could have any woman he wanted, actually wanted her.
“Stand up, put your shoes on and follow me. And for Christ’s
sake, stop thinking. Let it go, Beth.”
Stunned, she looked at him, wondering how he could possibly
know. The question must have been reflected in her face.
“I’ve worked with you every day for three years,” he said
softly. “I’ve seen your face run through the whole gamut of emotions and
expressions—so I know that when you look like this,” he tapped her nose with
his fingertip, “your quicksilver mind is bubbling with questions and concerns.
Stop it. Now.”
He led her back into the hall and up the sweeping staircase,
along the gallery to a locked door. She longed to look round and take in the details
of Adam’s house but her concentration was on him, her Dom. There was plenty of
time for the guided tour later.
She watched Adam unlock the door then followed him inside
the room. With her eyes lowered, her range of vision was limited. The impression
she had was of a light wood floor and a proliferation of beautifully crafted
bondage equipment in wood and leather, and a magnificent four-poster bed that
couldn’t possibly be as innocuous as it appeared. This was Adam’s playroom?
Somehow she’d expected something a little darker and more Gothic. This was both
dark and light—like its owner.
“Second position, Beth. Wait there. I’ll be back in a
moment.”
She sensed more than saw him disappear through another door
at the other end of the room. It would be very easy to cheat and look around,
even take her hands down, but that just seemed so wrong. Her Dom had commanded
her to stand like this, so stand like this she would.
“Well done, Beth. You can put your arms at your sides now
and look up.”
He was gorgeous. Black leather trousers, black boots and a
flowing white silk shirt left unbuttoned so that she could see his chest. He
looked like the romantic lead in a costume drama. Her knees turned to jelly in
half a heartbeat.
“Aroused already, Miss Harrison? Your nipples are such a
giveaway.”
He was standing in front of her now. His right hand cradled
her breast, his thumb flicking back and forth across the sensitive, puckered
flesh. “Give me your thoughts, Beth.”
She looked at him with openly adoring eyes. “You’re the most
beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
The flicking stopped short. He looked into her eyes. She
held her nerve and never wavered until his lips touched hers. Eyes closed, she
gave herself up to the kiss.
“Oh Beth,” he breathed her name. “Why didn’t we do this
years ago?”
“May I have your permission to speak, Adam?”
“You may, sweet.”
She smiled. “When you reach that part of the job interview
where the interviewer asks you if you have any questions, ‘Do you happen to be
a Dom, because I need one badly?’ isn’t exactly on the list of suggested
subjects for inquiry.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose if I’d told you that
I wanted your submission you’d have run a mile.”
“Probably.” Beth felt her confidence drain a little and knew
it showed in her expression.
“It’s all right, love. You’ve been at war with yourself for
a long time and it will take time for you to fully embrace your need to submit.
And don’t forget—we can always make our own rules up as we go along.”
“Thank you, Adam.” She took his hand and lifted it to kiss
the palm.
“You’re a natural, Beth.” His voice was warm with approval.
“I think that maybe you deserve a little reward now—although with your
stubbornness this morning…”
Beth lowered her eyes. “I apologize. I should have trusted
you, Sir.”
“Yes, you should have. So what should I do with my sub now?”
“Whatever you see fit to do, Adam.”
The St. Andrew’s Cross. She’d seen pictures of them before
and now she was being bound to the freestanding saltire that dominated one end
of the playroom. Adam was taking great care, checking her bonds, ensuring her
circulation wasn’t compromised and her delicate skin wouldn’t chafe and making
sure that she was comfortably settled against the red leather upholstery. With
her back to him she was especially vulnerable and once shackled in position,
she could do nothing to stop the delicious sensation of his hands roaming
freely over her body, stroking her skin.
Or the sharp crack of the openhanded slap on her bottom,
followed by the soothing stroke of that same hand.
“Ah, Beth, we both know you like that, don’t we?” He nuzzled
the side of her neck while playing with her breast. “In view of the fact that
you’ve kept your submissive tendencies hidden from me all this time, I think I
need to introduce you to something with a little more bite to it.”
Moving around so that he could see her face, Adam produced a
length of chain. “These are called tweezer clamps—ideal for someone new to the
scene. I can vary how much pressure they apply to your nipples. Hold yourself
away from the cross.”
The pinch of the clamps on her nipples made her gasp.
“Because you’re new to this, I’m going to ask you how this
feels. In the future though, I will decide how much pressure is applied. You
may speak.”
“Thank you, Adam. It feels good.”
She started at the touch of his hand between her legs.
“I can tell. Your pussy’s dripping with need right now.” He
tapped her clit twice. Her knees buckled when he followed that with a
relentless pressure. “And now that we have your delicious nipples nicely adorned,
it’s time to reacquaint you with the flogger.”
If such an implement could be said to be beautiful then this
one was a work of art. The sensation of the tails—fashioned from red suede—teasing
her flesh as Adam draped them over her shoulder was exquisite. When he used it
in a sequence of figure of eight movements across her upper back, it felt
divine. The rhythm matched the pulse of blood through her veins.
“My darling Beth, I wish you could see what I see.”
He dropped the flogger and moved to stand close, his chest
pressed against her back, his hands stroked down the sensitive skin of her
sides. When he reached her hips, he pulled her back hard against him, leaving
her in no doubt as to his state of arousal. “You feel what you do to me, sub?”
he growled into the side of her neck.
His hands wandered further, around to her breasts where his
fingers caught hold of the chain linking the nipple clamps. When he tugged
gently, she whimpered with pleasure-pain, letting herself lean back against his
body, anchored by the arm that had moved around her waist.
“There’s so much I have to teach you, love. So much I have
to learn about you.”
Whatever he could teach her would simply be the icing on
every birthday cake for the rest of her life.
With her Dom’s strength to lean on, Beth knew that she was
where she was always supposed to be—with the man she was always supposed to be
with. Every nerve ending she possessed buzzed with vitality at his closeness. She
felt him in every cell in her body. If she weren’t chained to the St. Andrew’s
Cross, she’d be on her knees in front of him.
The heat of his body left hers, disturbing the haze that was
enveloping her—almost holding her breath she awaited his return, and was
rewarded a few moments later with the touch of something light and soft tracing
the line of her spine.
“D/s isn’t all about chains and whips, my love.” His velvet
voice wrapped itself around her senses. “I can torture you with feathers and
hold you captive in silk and lace just as easily.”
It wouldn’t even take that, Beth realized. That voice could
hold her captive, a disapproving look in his eyes could torture her. He was
holding her again, anchoring her against his heat and strength so she had no
chance of wriggling away from the feather that he was stroking across the
tender skin. She moaned softly, turning her head away from the agonizing
sensation, only to feel the sharp spike of the nipple clamps, which left her
gasping.
How long the sheer torment of it all went on for Beth had no
idea. Her Dom teased and tormented her to the brink of orgasm at least a dozen
times, before drawing back and starting all over again. All her limbs were
turning to spaghetti by the time Adam allowed her to come with an explosive
orgasm that had her screaming his name. She could barely stand.
When Adam took her down from the cross he laid her on the
huge bed, where he soothed her nipples with his mouth as he removed the clamps.
The sensation of blood rushing back to the tormented flesh had her arching
against his mouth and then his fingers replaced that sweet agony.
“Please may I speak, Adam?” she whispered, loving him with
her eyes.
He stroked the damp hair off her forehead. “You may, Beth.”
“Thank you.” She turned her face to rest her cheek against
his palm.
He was smiling down at her, a smile that spoke of a special
intimacy that came along once in a lifetime. “You’re mine now, Beth. Let me be
your guide and your protector—”
“Will you be my lover, too?”
He bent to kiss her forehead. “I already am, little one.” He
frowned as she gave a little shiver. “Time to get you into bed, I think. You
need to rest.”
Beth giggled a little drunkenly, still high from the
session. “I’m already in bed, Adam.”
“Not this bed. Our bed.”
As if she were a fragile work of art, he carried her from
the playroom to his bedroom. Once she was safely tucked in, he stripped off his
own clothes. Beth watched him greedily, drinking in every perfect line of his
body, the way his muscles flowed with his economical movements. He disappeared
briefly, returning a few moments later with a bottle of water and a glass.
“You need to have a drink before we sleep,” he said, filling
the glass. “All of it.” He remained by her side while she finished the water.
“Thank you, Adam.”
“Beth, you don’t need to keep thanking me.”
“I do it because I want to do it and because it feels right
to do it.” She sighed, the sigh turning into a yawn she tried to stifle. “I
feel so tired.”
“Then there’s just one more thing I need to do.”
Her neck felt too bare without the collar and when she asked
about the gold chain, Adam shook his head.
Beth felt strangely bereft—it felt wrong to be without the
mark of Adam’s ownership. “Then please may I have the ribbon back, Adam?”
“No.” His response was immediate. “You’ve earned your real
collar now, Beth, and I am not demoting you back to a bloody ribbon. It’s not
open for discussion.”
He gave her a look that plainly said he knew best.
Beth knew she should be happier about that but she wasn’t
going to argue the point now. She watched her Dom move round the bed and when
he joined her, she moved into his embrace as if they were the two halves of a
whole, reunited after a lifetime apart.
Her last thought, before sleep claimed her, was that no one
and nothing would ever come between them again.
Beth woke up alone.
It was not yet 6 a.m. and everywhere was in darkness. The
other half of the bed was cold. Wherever he’d gone, it must have been a while
ago.
What was today going to bring?
Since there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, Beth
decided to get ready and make some breakfast—assuming of course that she could
find the kitchen in this maze of a house. Wherever Adam was, she was sure he’d
be back soon. Otherwise he’d have left a message.
While the coffee machine was working its magic, Beth
stretched, feeling the slight pull of muscles that had undergone exercise they
weren’t used to. She remembered Adam holding her close, his arms wrapped around
her as if he’d never let her go and then nothing until she’d woken this
morning. She could only assume that she’d slept like a log the whole night
through.
She was rummaging in the American-style fridge-freezer when
all of a sudden the kitchen door behind her burst open. It was Adam but an Adam
she’d never seen before. He was dressed in camouflage gear and chunky
military-style boots with a heavy pack strapped to his back. He was in the
process of shrugging it off his shoulders when Beth turned around. Strands of
dark hair clung damply to his forehead.
“Adam?”
His face broke into a grin. “Good morning, love. I hope I
didn’t disturb you.”
“Only by not being there when I woke up. What have you been
doing?”
His expression sobered. “Getting back into training. God,
I’m getting old!”
Beth flew to his side, her arms finding their home around
his waist as she pressed close to him.
“Hey, what’s this for?”
“Just because. So what have you been doing?” She looked up
at Adam’s face. Even unshaven and glistening with sweat, he was still the man
she craved beyond all others.
“Ten miles and it took me too bloody long. Fifteen years
ago, a performance like that would have had me drummed out of the Regiment.”
A strange feeling rippled through Beth. Now that she knew
about his past—the specific and highly secretive regiment he was talking about
and all the things he’d done in the service of his country—dressed as he was,
he no longer looked like her suave, office-working boss. He was a man of action
who had put his life on the line countless times without a thought for his own
safety.
“Now, woman, let me go and get a shave and a shower. We have
a lot to do today.”
And with a playful slap to her behind he disappeared.
Beth busied herself with making a full cooked breakfast—bacon,
eggs, sausages, hash browns, mushrooms, tomatoes, the works. Once everything
was cooking, she went to move the backpack from where he’d dropped it only to
find that she could barely drag it, never mind lift it. He’d run ten miles with
that on his back? What did he have in it? Bricks? She opened it up.
She wasn’t far wrong. It looked like half a quarry. What
amazed her most was that he’d arrived back barely out of breath—that spoke
volumes about his existing level of fitness. He didn’t just look good.
And he had perfect timing as well. She was just putting the
finishing touches to his breakfast when he ambled back into the kitchen, his
hair slick and damp from the shower. She looked up with a grin, only for her
face to fall when she caught his disapproving look.
“Beth, have you already eaten?”
“No, I thought I’d wait for you.”
“Then where the hell’s your breakfast?”
Beth looked from him to the plate, then back at him and
raised her eyebrows. Her glasses had slipped down her nose slightly, so she
ended up looking at him over the top of the frames. She pointed to the grill.
“There’s three rashers of bacon under there. Should be ready any time now. I
don’t do cooked breakfasts, there’s way too much food for me on one of those,
but I’m from the North and I have a weakness for bacon sandwiches. Go and sit
down and I’ll be right with you.”
Beth carried the groaning plate over to the informal dining
table by the French windows, taking a seat opposite Adam when her breakfast was
ready. She shot him a look and pointed at the evidence. He paused with a laden
fork halfway to his mouth, glanced at the sandwich…then put the fork down
again, picked up the sandwich and helped himself to a bite. A big one. His
eyebrows rose in appreciation as he chewed thoughtfully. After he swallowed, he
said, “That’s good.”
Beth slowly folded her arms with what she hoped was an appropriate
degree of menace. “I know. I make a mean bacon butty. How’s yours?”
“Excellent.” The laden fork resumed its interrupted mission.
“So what was all the fuss about? You didn’t think I was
going to wait for permission…did you?”
He shrugged. “It’s been known. Some Doms demand it. I’m not
one of them.”
Beth put her sandwich down so that she could give her full
attention to the man in front of her. “I never thought for one moment that you
were.” Then she leaned across the table and gently kissed his cheek.
The moment passed. Adam grinned. “Anyway, you never told me
you could cook.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed. “You never specified cooking as an
essential skill on the job advert nor do I remember ever having to cook as part
of my office duties.”
“Touché.” Adam grinned. “My, we are grumpy this morning.”
“I wasn’t grumpy until someone helped himself to my
breakfast. Just for that, I’m not cooking the steaks I found in the fridge for
dinner tonight.” She took a delicate bite of her sandwich, relishing the crisp
grilled bacon between the slices of whole-grain bread.
Adam didn’t even look up from his plate when he spoke.
“That’s okay. It’ll save you burning them.”
Beth responded with an indignant glare, which was promptly
defused by the mischievous grin he gave her. His eyes were shining with humor.
Oh, she’d show him. Mustering all her dignity, she sat up straight and stuck
her tongue out at him before taking another bite of her sandwich.
“You know you just earned yourself a spanking.”
Beth nearly choked. “Are you sure you’re just a sexual
Dominant?”
He shrugged again, loading his fork with hash browns,
sausage and tomato. “I know I like spanking you. Any chance of a coffee?”
* * * * *
After breakfast, the first thing Adam had intended to do was
to lock his sub’s day collar into place around her beautiful neck. He hadn’t
replaced it after the play session because he didn’t see any point in having
her sleep in it.
She looked utterly gorgeous. He’d half-expected her to relax
automatically into an attitude of submission but instead, to his amazement and
delight, she wore it with pride—her eyes positively sparkled and her smile made
his heart ache with wanting her. It would be so easy to take her hand, go back
to bed and make love to her for the rest of the day.
“Just so there aren’t any misunderstandings, Beth, this
collar is here to protect you.” He placed his palm over the padlock at the base
of her throat, pressing it against her skin. “Anyone who’s part of the scene
will know what it means, that you belong to me. Understand?”
“Yes, Adam.”
“And it doesn’t mean that I expect you to submit to me in
any way other than sexually. I want you to get used to the feel of it—it’ll be
there to tell any Dom that you’re mine, but to anyone else, it’s simply a
beautiful piece of jewelry worn by a stunningly beautiful woman.”
The flush that stained her cheeks was enchanting and had him
fighting the urge to bed her all over again. Later. Other things had to take
precedence for now. Beth had to know about the secure room, where it was and
how to get to it from anywhere in the house—and for that he needed to show her
around. Still, she’d found her way to the kitchen all right and she’d looked
right at home there.
An image exploded in his subconscious mind, generated by
every primal male instinct he possessed responding to the warm female body
snuggled against him—Beth, barefoot and pregnant. Holy shit! He really needed
to stop thinking like that. What the hell was coming over him?
Winterleigh was a far larger house than a man living on his
own needed. It was the one thing he had fought to keep during the course of his
divorce. The property had been a dilapidated wreck when he bought it on a whim
at a knock-down price, and hadn’t really improved much by the time his ex-wife
walked out two years later. Fortunately she’d been more interested in what she
could spend so she’d been more than happy to leave the house to him. With time
and money he’d managed to bring the house back to life.
So it was with some pride that he showed Beth round the
sprawling mass that was his home, although he was more interested in her
reactions to the house. He wanted her to feel that it could be her home too. He
wanted her to feel involved and there was one room that might encourage that.
“When I bought Winterleigh, this was rather grandly referred
to as ‘the ballroom’ in the brochure,” Adam told her when they reached the
large, empty ground-floor room at one end of the house. “At the viewing before
the auction, I thought the estate agent was rather more delusional than they
usually are. The doors at the end open out onto the formal gardens. I was
hoping you might have some ideas as to what we could do with it.”
It was a lovely, spacious room and he could see that Beth
was fascinated by the prospect of suggesting a purpose for it.
“What do you use it for now—besides storage?” She looked
over at the cluster of packing crates in one corner.
“What you see is what you get. Any ideas?”
Beth moved further into the room, turning in a full circle
to get a feel for the scale of it. “It’s a large space—you could do a lot with
this. It all depends how you see your life here unfolding.” She flashed a grin
at him. “Are you likely to hold many parties?”
Parties…the anniversary parties would have to wait for the
wedding reception to happen first. A marquee in the garden, a huge wedding
cake, Beth in a champagne-colored dress that made the most of her curves…
Adam pushed the errant thought to one side—his subconscious
was getting ideas well above its station. “Maybe. Come on. There’s still a fair
bit to see.”
Having quizzed Beth about the house over lunch, and been
pleased with the results so far, Adam turned his thoughts to the afternoon, as
did Beth.
“Do you have any plans for this afternoon, Adam?”
He needed to get a range set up for some target practice and
was just about to tell her when the machine-gun rattle of a sudden downpour hit
the French windows.
“I did,” he admitted wryly. Hell, he still should have those
same plans—he wouldn’t melt in a bit of rain but it had taken about three
nanoseconds for him to talk himself into a pleasant afternoon of lounging
around with Beth, talking her into keeping him occupied.
Ah, he was getting too easily distracted now. Anything to do
with this woman distracted him. The thought of being her Dom gave him a warm
feeling in his chest. So did the thought of this mess being over and settling
down to living here at Winterleigh, with his whole life revolving around her.
Focus, Granger. Stick with Plan A.
He wasn’t the only one to lapse into a daydream, he realized.
Beth was lost in thought and though he couldn’t be sure, it seemed that her
eyes held a certain brightness that could only be attributable to tears.
“Earth to Beth—are you all right? You went away from me
there for a moment.”
“Sorry.” She took a moment to gather herself together. “I’m
sorry, I was miles away.”
“What were you thinking?”
“It was just a silly thought about the rain.”
“Tell me.”
Beth glanced down at her hands, clasped on her lap. “I just
thought that if you went out to set up the shooting range, you’d get soaked to
the skin, and then…“ She closed her eyes briefly as if she were fighting some
sort of internal battle. “Then I thought that you’d probably seen, experienced
far worse when you were deployed. I told you it was silly.”
Without speaking, Adam rose and came round to her, his arms
enfolding her and lifting her off the stool she was sitting on. He sat down so
that they were almost on eye level with each other then pulled her close to
him, between his muscular thighs. She raised her hands to frame his face, the
look in her eyes startlingly intense.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his cheek.
“For what?”
“Everything.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “I
love you.”
Adam laid his cheek against the back of her head. His eyes
closed automatically with the peace that this woman unknowingly gave to him.
Now he understood fully what his comrades had fought for. It was never really
about Queen and country, but the man beside you on the front line, he already
knew that. What he’d never really understood, beyond the logic of it, was
fighting for the family waiting back home.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
Regardless of what he really wanted to do, Adam kept his
mind on his priorities and spent an hour outside on target practice, using the
most contemporary weapon at his disposal. The antique shotguns, including a
prized Purdey of which he was particularly fond, were marvelous to shoot clay
pigeons with. However, clay pigeons didn’t tend to shoot back, so for the
purposes of protection he had selected the potentially lethal pump-action
shotgun.
It was satisfying to confirm that his eye was still good.
And in case, for some reason, his access to the firearms was…restricted,
it might be a good idea to have his old combat knives available. He had to
consider all the options.
He reloaded the shotgun. A few more rounds, and then he
could look forward to getting back to Beth. He wanted this crap done with as
much as she did, and just as soon as was humanly possible. Whoever it was,
they’d waited a long time for revenge. If his past were coming back to haunt
him, he knew he needed to be prepared.