Darkest Fantasies

by

Darkest
Fantasies first published in 2000 by Chimera Publishing. Published
as an eBook in 2011 by Chimera eBooks.

ePub ISBN
9781780800769

mobi ISBN
9781780800776

www.chimerabooks.co.uk

Chimera (
ki-mir'a,
ki-
) a creation of the imagination, a wild
fantasy.

New authors
are always
welcome, or if you’re already a published author and have existing
work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to
you, we would love to
hear from you
.

This work is
sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or
otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated
without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of
binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and
without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser. The author asserts that all characters depicted in this
work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older, and that all
characters and situations are entirely imaginary and bear no
relation to any real person or actual happening.

Copyright
Kimberley Raines. The right of Kimberley Raines to be identified as
author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77
and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Ladies

Are you lacking
in self-confidence?

Are you fed-up
with being a doormat for your partner?

Come and learn
the art of

DOMINANCE

with an
expert

Alicia felt a
jolt of desire hit her middle as she took Kevin's overcoat from him
at the door; a single glance told her he was already blatantly
aroused. It was hard to believe, but she had really done it; the
sexiest man in the office was really here in her flat. His cold
grey eyes bored through her, and she shivered with a belated sense
of apprehension, but thrust it aside. He was married, and had a
reputation as being a bit of a philanderer, but as far as she was
concerned that was both the challenge and the safety net. Taking a
deep breath she closed the door on the outside world.

His hands bit
into her shoulders as he leaned down and kissed her. He didn't
close his eyes, neither did she, and lust billowed tangibly between
them. There was nothing refined in the way his hands gripped her
shoulders, held her there while his tongue played along her teeth,
then thrust deep into her mouth, pushing her tongue aside. She felt
a moment's claustrophobic panic, and tensed. He retracted his head
slightly, malicious amusement sparkling within the flecks of silver
in his strange eyes. When he spoke his breath warmed her open lips.
'Scared?'

'Of what?' she
said breathlessly, hearing a slight taunt in the tone, and feeling
desire blossom even more strongly at the hint of threat. She leaned
forward to kiss him again, but was left discomfited as he turned
casually away as if he had not noticed.

'Go over
there, by the window,' he said abruptly.

She went,
confused, but obedient.

'Now, undress.
Very, very slowly. I want to watch.'

Alicia felt
that strange jolt again. He was deliberately belittling her, yet it
was not anger that blossomed, but something else. Something deeper,
more primitive. As she undid the buttons of her silk blouse, one by
one, he wandered to the dresser and poured himself a glass of red
wine, never once taking his eyes from hers. Trapped in his avid
gaze Alicia licked her lips, something telling her this was not a
good time to insist that he repeat the action for her. She wished
she had knocked back a glass before he had arrived, but she had
not, intending to share the wine with him during the softening
process that usually preceded sex. But it was too late now, and she
belatedly realised that with Kevin Mellinton she was a foregone
conclusion, ergo, did not need softening.

Without the
comforting haze of alcohol she felt strangely exposed to her own
confused feelings, and felt uncomfortably aware that this was going
to be an experience somewhat different to normal. But then, Kevin
had hinted as much during their clandestine challenges at work. She
wanted to walk over and turn on the CD player, put on something
sultry and moody, but she didn't. This was to be done in silence,
stone cold sober.

She wasn't
looking at him now, but felt his eyes on her as she slid the blouse
down over her shoulders very, very slowly, shuddering as the light
pressure of the silk slid against the hair follicles on her arms.
Almost every hair on her body seemed to be tingling with a charge
like static electricity as the blouse fluttered to the floor in a
rich green puddle. Now goosebumps chilled her torso. She breathed
in deeply, watching his reaction as she stood, knowing what she
looked like with her full cleavage straining against the tiny, lacy
bra.

She reached
behind her for the zip of her skirt, which opened with a soft sigh.
She bent to slip the skirt slowly down to her feet, then stepped
carefully over the waistband, trying not to catch the high heel in
the fabric. She reached for the buckle to her shoe.

'No. Leave
those on.'

Kevin's voice
was abrupt, his very arrogance sending the juices flowing. Oh, God,
he was wonderful. She had known he would be. She was captivated by
the hawk-like gaze that never left her body. His erection was
thrusting proudly against his trousers, but he didn't move, didn't
touch himself.

She shivered
again as she undressed herself, feeling strangely violated, as
though his hands were all over her body, touching, smoothing her
pale skin. The waistband of the suspenders dug into her skin, an
alien sensation, but when Kevin had presented her with the
beribboned package in a sly moment when she was alone, she had felt
exhilarated, because no one had ever bought her anything like that
before. Of course she had to wear them, show him that she
appreciated the gift; besides, it was obviously expected.

'Slip the
knickers off,' he said, and now she could hear a faint tremor in
the husky depth of his voice. She had never been asked to do this
before. There had always been a kiss and a grope on the settee,
hands ripping frantically at clothes. This leisurely, solitary
disrobing was faintly disturbing.

She slid the
elastic of the silk French knickers down over the clasps that held
up the stockings, and stepped out of them. She stood in bra and
stockings and high heels, and was shocked at the blast of
excitement that hit her middle. She must look like a tart; she felt
like one. She had never experienced anything like it before.

'Now turn
away. Face the window. Lift your arms up high. Spread your legs.'
His commands were like her actions, slow and deliberate, and there
was nothing seductive about them. He was using her for his own
pleasure, and she was obeying because she wanted to. At any moment
she could just say 'no', but she knew that would be the end of it.
Erection or no, she sensed he would simply take his coat and walk
out of the door. She wasn't sure why she cared, cold bastard that
he was.

She opened her
legs, wobbling slightly on the high heels, and felt the dampness
between her legs chill slightly. Again she had a mental impression
of what she looked like, standing there with her white cheeks like
two globes either side of her deep crack.

'Twist your
hips,' he said. 'One way, then the other. Slowly.'

She did so, as
far as she could, perched on the high heels, lifting one cheek,
then the other, in a gyrating motion. She heard glass tinkle and
knew he was pouring himself some more wine. She felt slightly
cheated. 'I'd like―'

'Shut up.'

His tone bit
her into instant silence. She was faintly shocked at her response.
He was talking to her as if she was a dog, yet something stopped
her from complaining. She was not under duress here, she could put
her skirt back on any time she wanted, and to her surprise, she
didn't want. What she couldn't understand was why. What was it in
his arrogance that made her want to carry on pleasing him? Yet her
body knew no such hesitation. It was fired with need in a way she
had never experienced before.

'Now rub your
hands down your body. Press your tits together, then down your
sides, up the cheeks of your arse, nice and slow. Round and round,
that's good. Very good.'

She felt
chuffed at his slow, deliberate praise.

'Now put your
hands on your hips and bend down. Right down, that's it. Lift your
head back, stick your bottom out. I want to see it. All of it.
Every sweet, juicy inch.' She stood there for a moment, and heard
faint movement behind her.

'Hold the
window sill.'

She did as she
was told and was shocked to feel warmth at the mouth of her sex
just a second before he thrust inside her, hard as a rock, more
brutal than any man had ever been with her. She gasped with shock,
with an explosion of sexual excitement, feeling the roughness of
his clothes against her, knowing he was within seconds of
coming.

There was no
finesse about the way Kevin rammed into her, about the way his
hands grasped her thighs for better purchase. Her displays had made
him as ready as he ever would be; he didn't need hands touching him
to get him hot. He needed mastery, that was all. He thrust hard, in
and out, nearly lifting her from her feet at every movement, and
she felt it building inside him, ready to burst.

Because her
legs were spread wide, Alicia had no control over any muscles. The
rough penetration was painful, but clutching hard at the
white-painted sill she found her lack of control as erotic an
experience as she could recall, the pain itself an aphrodisiac.

Finally he
gave a great shudder and shot his seed inside her, and as she felt
the warmth of his balls pulsing against her clitoris, she gave a
faint gasp of something akin to relief as she felt the strength of
his orgasm.

'Jesus!' she
sighed as he finally slid out, depleted.

Kevin slapped
her bottom. 'Nice arse,' he said. 'Now go and rustle up some grub,
there's a good girl.'

She stood up,
wincing, and turned, hands on hips, suddenly irritated. 'You are a
conceited arsehole, Kevin!'

His lip
curled. In exasperation she reached for her clothes, but he stopped
her. 'Like that. I like to watch.'

Torn between
the desire to hit him or thank him for the compliment, she stormed
into the kitchen in high heels, stockings and bra, and began to
rustle up some grub as ordered.

Alicia felt
like stamping around the kitchen, but it was hard to stamp in
ridiculously high heels and little else. After a while she began to
smile to herself, and the ache between her legs was almost a badge
of honour. What a stud! Christ, she'd never felt so goddamned
horny. She had known from the first instant she saw him in the
foyer that she was going to have him, but she hadn't expected to
get him this easily. What the hell kind of wife did he have? One
who wasn't interested in sex, in which case this was
understandable, or was Kevin just so sexy she was unable to keep up
with his demands? She shrugged. It didn't really matter. He'd been
turned on merely at the sight of her, and the feeling was mutual.
She didn't have to like the bastard. She was smirking with
self-satisfaction as she took his food into the living room on a
tray, almost as if they were a married couple, for God sake. She
put the tray on the small table and turned around.

'Where are you
going?'

'To get
mine.'

'Come here.
Take off your bra and stockings.'

She undid the
catch and let her large breasts fall free, then sat beside him on
the sofa and unbuckled her shoes, sighing with relief. He held a
hand out for the stockings, and she handed them over, puzzled.

'Turn around.
Give me your hands.'

'I don't
think—'

'Do it, or
I'll leave right now.'

She turned,
crossed her hands behind her back, and he wrapped one stocking
around her wrists several times. Something went zing between her
legs as he worked. She had never been tied before. She felt him
pull the knot tight. 'What are you doing?'

It was such a
silly question, he didn't deign to answer. He yanked the free ends
of the stocking around her middle, pulling her wrists tightly into
the small of her back. 'Breath in hard. Harder. That's better.'

She inhaled so
hard her breasts jutted proudly, and her middle sank in smaller
than she had ever seen it. He pulled the knot tight around her
waist, ensuring that she stayed in that hourglass condition.