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Ruh-roh, Shaggy. Braided lashes. I’d only been disciplined with flat.
‘If I see you smile one more time until I tell you so, you’ll be a very sorry girl. Are we clear?’
‘Crystal.’
With a slow and steady touch, he brushed the long, stiff leather lashes against the length of my back, as I shivered from anticipation and the chilliness of the air.
‘How are you?’ he whispered, and I was surprised by the compassion in his voice, not to mention the fact that he asked me at all.
‘Scared, Mr Holder.’
‘You should be,’ he said. ‘You’ve done this before?’
‘Not with such a scary-looking piece.’
‘Relax as much as you can, Lily. My aim is true.’ Mr Holder continued waking the skin of my back with soft steadiness, then stood, ever-so-regal. A king in his palace of pain, firmly gripping the handle in one hand and clutching the lashes in his other. He studied my back, looking detached, mapping out the landscape. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Sort of.’ I took a deep breath.
‘Hold your breath like that, Ms Dewitt, and this’ll hurt a lot worse.’ He leaned over and stroked my skin with a steady palm. ‘You’ll feel it here. And here. And here. And here. No shoulders. Nowhere near your kidneys. Safe as houses.’
‘Keep going,’ I said, then corrected myself. ‘Green.’
Snip! The smack on my right bum-cheek was biting enough that my eyes watered, but I could feel myself grinning. Not so bad.
‘Something funny, Lily?’
‘No, sir.’ I shook my head. ‘It just tickles a bit.’
‘Of course it does. We’re just warming up.’ He was back to stroking me with the lashes, a featherlight touch. ‘Let’s try that again, Ms Dewitt. Should I see you smiling one more time before I tell you to, you’ll be a very sorry girl. Are we clear?’
‘Yes.’
Crack. OK.
Jeepers, that hurt.
‘Yes, what?’ He held the flogger high in the air, his bicep bulging. If I pissed him off one more time, that would hurt a little too much.
‘And stop looking at me. I did not give you permission to look at me.’
‘Yes, Mr Holder,’ I said, lowering my eyes from the mirror.
On and on he punished. The smarting became stinging, then burning, then what felt like blistering. At last I wept and whimpered, ‘Mercy.’
‘Good. You lasted longer than I’d anticipated.’
How was it that I felt so proud of myself, and how long had he worked me over? Ten minutes? An hour? Endorphins pumped through my system. There would be welts, later, I was sure. But for now, only peace.
Dorian knelt, dropped his weapon and I heard clicking sounds behind me. He ran his palm ever so slightly over my ass, right where he had striped me up, and there was something icy cold and slick. I startled, expecting more pain, but let out a breath of gratitude as I felt immediate relief.
‘You may speak, now, Lily.’
‘What is that stuff?’ I asked, keeping my eyes downcast. ‘Mr Holder.’
‘Arnica. I always keep a tube in the fridge.’ His voice was lighter. ‘You have permission to look at me again.’
When I raised my head and looked at him behind me in the mirror, the beauty of his shadowed face and tenseness of his muscles took my breath away.
‘Are you all right, Lily?’ he croaked. The energy emanating from him as he battled himself for control was unmistakable.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, Mr Holder. Though my ass is still kind of on fire.’
‘So hard to hold back with a girl like you.’ Pretty sure that was supposed to be a compliment. He smoothed on more gel. ‘I need to fuck, and fuck hard.’
‘So what’s stopping you?’ I asked.
‘What, indeed?’ he replied, and he tugged down his pants and plunged inside me from behind. As our pelvises moved in rhythm, the pain vanished, and then there was a tightening beneath my navel, right as I was about to …
‘Come for me, Lily,’ he growled in my ear, just as I climaxed. Ha. One step ahead of him, I was.
Dorian thrust with abandon, wrapped his arms around me and squeezed my tits hard while driving every inch of his cock into my contracting pussy. At last he knelt, pulled out and stroked himself, while I watched in the mirror. He shot his cum all over my burning ass, then smoothed his hands along the length of my back, panting. ‘Jesus.’
‘I need you to hold me, now, Dorian,’ I told him, as our scene had come to its inevitable, satisfying conclusion. ‘And I’m so thirsty.’
Our ragged breath, the pounding of my heart in my ears, and French electronica rushed in waves, a cocoon of sound.
‘Of course you do.’ He leaned over, and trailed his lips the length of my spine. ‘Of course you are.’
We were silent as he unfettered me, and I slumped against him, spent and satiated, licking at my dry lips.
‘Time for bed, Lily. You’ve been a very good girl.’
CHAPTER 6 (#ulink_0f09fb44-ce55-51c8-a790-415c6b8d78b4)
Just Desserts (#ulink_0f09fb44-ce55-51c8-a790-415c6b8d78b4)
Moonlight and streetlamps illuminated Dorian’s white bedroom, and I took in the starkness. He pulled the black curtains shut, and the sudden, cave-like darkness was utter and complete.
I wonder if Dorian ever goes spelunking. Bet he does. Oh, well. I’ll never know, now.
‘“In the white room … ,”’ I sang.
‘Hush.’ There was a soft rustling as he turned back the sheets. ‘Lie down, Lily. I would recommend on your stomach. I’ll be right back.’
The sheets were cool, soft and smelled sweetly of lavender. Mmn. I could get used to this. Well, don’t get used to it, dumbass.
Dorian returned with two bottles of water, two popsicles and two Advil.
‘Are you planning to put your popsicle on my butt cheek?’ I asked him. ‘Because I sure could use a little ice, there, cowboy.’
‘You do vex me, Lily,’ he said, hurriedly setting down his little care package. ‘Here. Take these, and I’ll bring you a cold pack.’
I propped my head up on my fist, and washed down the Advil with nearly an entire bottle of Fuji. ‘Yikes!’ I squealed, as Dorian pressed a cold pack against my right butt cheek. It was wrapped in soft cloth, and his touch was gentle.
‘Is that helping?’
‘Totally.’ I shivered. ‘Pass me a popsicle?’
‘What’s the magic word?’
‘Please.’
‘Close your eyes.’ There was a crackle as Dorian tore off the wrapper. ‘Now you’ll have to guess the colour.’
‘Already know. Luigis only makes lemon and lime, right?’
‘These aren’t “Italian ice”. They’re trashy popsicles, and they’re delicious.’
‘Hmn.’ I took a long suck. ‘Orange. You?’
‘I’m cooling your bottom right now. No time for oral fixation.’
‘Oh, you don’t have to keep holding it. Lie next to me. Hold me. Eat a popsicle.’
‘Demanding little thing, aren’t you?’ But he followed my directions and lay down beside me. There was a light note in his voice to which I was unaccustomed.
‘Whatcha got?’
‘Mmn. Red. Never knew if it was supposed to be raspberry or strawberry.’ Though it was dark, I could hear that he was smiling. ‘Let’s eat the whole box.’
I took another slurp. ‘We could have some fun with a box of popsicles, Mr Holder.’
‘Give me a few minutes, love.’ He laughed, and pulled me closer. ‘Why don’t you tell me your brilliant plans?’
‘You know …’ This was different. And he’d just called me ‘love’. ‘We shouldn’t ruin your sheets.’
‘I have others, you know.’
‘You change your own sheets?’
‘Touché. Open your mouth.’ Dorian slid the popsicle between my lips. His eyelashes were so long that I could even see them in his silhouette. They were fluttering like butterfly wings. Did I make him nervous? ‘Damn, that’s hot.’
‘Fruit punch. Neither strawberry nor raspberry.’
‘Right.’ He took a breath. ‘So, how do you feel about staying here with me tonight?’
‘For realz?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know. My lens stuff’s downstairs.’
Though I was trying to play it oh-so-cool, goosebumps prickled down my neck with excitement. Well, the icepack on my butt played no small role, but I didn’t expect the invitation, especially since my own bed was a mere few floors down.
‘You’ll find supplies in the drawer of your bedside table.’
‘OK, stalker-boy. I’ll stay the course.’ I nursed my frozen treat, mulling this over. ‘You know, Dorian, the only thing I actually wish you would replace is my glasses. The first time you kissed me, you stepped on them. And they were expensive. Or my version of expensive, anyway.’
‘You’re right, I did. I could replace them, or …’ He sucked on his popsicle. ‘If you want, I could buy you Lasik surgery. You’d never have to bother with them again. Or your lenses. I’m connected to the best—’
‘I don’t want Lasik surgery,’ I told him. ‘Or, if I did, I’d save up and get it myself. You don’t get to surgically alter my body. I want my fancy specs back.’
‘Got it.’ He finished his popsicle in one bite. ‘It’s not like I was trying to get you to buy fake tits or something.’
I snorted.
‘Not that you could improve upon perfection.’ He cupped my right boob with an air of ownership. ‘All right, Lily. I’ll ease up on the extravagant gifts, even though you should know by now there aren’t any strings attached.’
‘Why would I know that? We’ve only just started –’ I paused ‘– hanging out.’
‘Is that what we’re doing, Lily?’ Dorian asked, waiting. ‘Hanging out?’
‘I don’t know. I should stop talking.’
‘Very good idea. So, new glasses, a trip to the ballet, your dance lessons, a library and a new bed. Then I’ll try to stop.’ He brushed his lips against mine. ‘Though I don’t know what’s fun about money if you can’t spend it.’
‘And popsicles.’
‘Yes, all the popsicles. I’m good to go. You? How’s that bum? Feeling any better?’
‘Let’s find out,’ I suggested, and I rolled over and straddled him.
‘Go get me my dessert, woman,’ he said, shoving me off.
‘I am your dessert,’ I retorted, and padded off to the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a manila folder on the marble countertop, and, even in the dim light could make out my name, Lily Dewitt, in Dorian’s now familiar script. Does he keep files on me? What is that? I hesitated, thought better of opening it and flung open the freezer instead.
‘Hey,’ Dorian said, as I leapt back on the bed. ‘You really did bring the whole box, didn’t you?’
‘I don’t do anything half-assed,’ I said, and tore open the wrapper with my teeth and licked. ‘You like grape?’
‘Give me that,’ he ordered. ‘Lie down on your back.’
‘Yes, Mr Holder.’ I dropped back, and cringed at the pressure against my sore flesh.
He traced the tip of the popsicle around my nipples, and sucked at them while I shivered. ‘Definitely grape.’
‘Are you sure?’ I whispered. ‘Maybe it’s lime.’
‘No, lime tastes like floor cleaner.’
‘Dorian, please play with me.’
