Enraptured (19 page)

Jessica seemed more at home in the store and was riffling through the racks with ease, gathering a few T-shirts, a pair of store-brand jeans, and a bright pink fleece jacket.

“Oh, underwear and socks,” she murmured, and grabbed a pack of each from the brightly lit shelves.

“What size shoes?” Roman asked, pointing to the small amount of hiking sneakers available.

Jessica grabbed a pair that looked ridiculously small compared to his, and they rolled the cart to the checkout line. It reminded him of a grocery store.

“Oh, sir, I forgot antibacterial soap, and fresh water to clean my piercings.”

“They have that stuff here?” he asked.

Jessica laughed and ran off, coming back a few minutes later with the items.

They changed in the bathroom, ripping off the tags, and emerging looking like any middle-class couple ready for adventure.

“You look hot, sir,” she said, nodding.

“This shirt won’t last the weekend,” he grumbled.

“You’d be surprised,” Jessica said, and they got back into the Jeep.

Roman had a sudden desire to change his mind, to drive them back home to his mansion, shower, dress in his own clothing, and drive his own cars. But this was important. He needed to know how he and Jessica got along without the trappings of wealth. If things weren’t always so easy, would she still like him? Still want to be his?

They drove for over three hours, listening to the radio, talking about politics, and debating the pros and cons of the electoral college. He loved how smart she was, how interested in everything around her.

Love. Stop thinking that damn word. It’s gonna be the death of you.

“I’m really excited to go camping,” Jessica said, looking over her shoulder at the fishing equipment.

“We’ll need to catch something, because that’s what’s for dinner.”

“Really? What if . . . what if we don’t catch anything?”

Roman kept his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes on the road. “Then we don’t eat.”

Chapter Ten

J
essica followed Roman down the trail to their campsite. It was an official campground with rangers, at least, so they probably wouldn’t die out there in the forests of upstate New York. Stranger things had happened though.

“You okay there?” Roman asked, walking just ahead of her.

She readjusted the load of firewood in her arms and grinned. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Roman, for his part, was carrying all of the rest of the stuff— the two sleeping bag rolls, the tote bag of clothing, and whatever else was in that heavy bag. So carrying the firewood was getting off easy. Still, it was bulky and dirty.

Jessica could see the old fire-pit and flattened grass that marked their site just ahead.

“Is that it, sir?”

He nodded, and set down the supplies before taking the wood from her arms. She breathed a sigh of relief as her arms fell to her sides.

“It’s beautiful up here,” she said, looking around at the trees, the lake in the distance, and the post-and-rail fence that marked some unknown border in the distance.

Roman picked her up in his arms and kissed her, taking her by surprise. He smelled wonderful, in a different sort of way than she was used to. Instead of his normal cologne, he smelled like clean sweat, dirt, and . . . DEET. She felt like she was making out with a cowboy, albeit one who preferred not to get bitten by mosquitoes.

“See that fence out there?” Roman asked.

Jessica turned her head and looked at it again. “What do you suppose is being fenced?” she asked. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s a property fence, probably to keep someone’s horses from wandering off if they get out of their stables,” Roman said. “Sometimes out here all you’ll see is a big long pile of stones to mark property lines.”

“I’ll race you to it,” Jessica said, feeling energized by the sun and the crisp air.

“What do I win when I beat you?”

“Anything, of course. Even if I beat you, you win anything,” Jessica teased.

“I like that kind of race.” He set her down. “Go forward until I say stop. I’m giving you a head start.”

“Sir, no offense, but I’m a pretty fast runner. You don’t need to give me a head start.”

He just raised his eyebrows, and she squeaked as if he’d spanked her.

“Sorry!” She walked briskly toward the fence, waiting for his order to stop.

After she was a good fifty yards away, he said, “Okay. One, two, three, go!”

Jessica ran toward the fence as fast as she could, her new hiking boots crushing the dry ground beneath her. Amazingly, he was coming up behind her fast, and it seemed he wasn’t going for the fence— no, he was chasing her.

She was his prey.

With a lunge, Roman tackled her from behind and she fell with a whoosh to the ground, cradled in his arms.

“I got you,” he said, pinning her arms above her head.

“What about the fence?” she asked, but he silenced her with a deep kiss.

“Oh, that’s right. The fence.” He rolled off of her and ran to the fence, leaving her completely aroused, and confused, on the forest floor.

“I won,” he said, patting the wood rail of the fence with a grin.

“You bastard,” she teased, standing, brushing the dirt off of her clothes. “You totally cheated.”

“What can I say? I like to win.” He picked her up when she reached him and set her on the fence.

Jessica kicked her heels against the sturdy post, panting from their exertion. “Want to sit next to me, sir?”

“No.”

God, he looked so incredibly handsome, even with dirt on his shirt, and a twig stuck in his long hair. She reached out and pulled the twig out for him, smiling.

“Do you know what I really want?” he asked, his hands on her thighs.

Please want to make me come
, she thought. But no. He’d said no orgasms this weekend, and she believed him.

“I’ll do anything you want, sir.”

“Put your leg over. Straddle the fence.”

She obeyed, the hard wooden fence pressing against her private parts. Jessica shifted position, leaning back a bit, but it just relocated the pressure to her butt. With her hands, she was able to push up a bit to relieve the aching feeling.

“Not too comfy,” she joked. “But I’m guessing you knew that.”

“I did.” He stepped back, and watched her.

Jessica kept rocking, moving back and forth, shifting her weight, using her hands and her feet on the lower rail of the fence to find a less painful position. Within seconds, though, that position became uncomfortable too, and she had to move again.

She didn’t dare ask to get down, because she knew what the answer would be. Without a dungeon at his disposal, Roman was still king of his domain. Even in the woods.

“Let your legs dangle,” he ordered. “No more pushing yourself up with your feet.”

“Yes, sir.” She let her legs fall, and the pressure became immediately more severe. “Holy sh—”

“No cursing, naughty girl. Just stay on that fence until I say so.”

Jessica gasped as the pain got more intense. She used her arms to push herself up for moment or two before her strength gave out, then she fell back onto the hard wood.

It seemed like she’d been straddling the fence forever when he spoke again.

“Hands on your head.”

Oh God. She couldn’t. She couldn’t! But she did. With her hands laced on her head, there was nothing to stop the pain, the pressure on her clit, on her pussy, making her entire body quiver with sensation. Rocking hurt but staying still hurt more. After five minutes—maybe it was five minutes, maybe it was shorter, or longer, who could tell when Roman himself controlled the time? After some time she couldn’t stay silent.

“Please, sir, please let me down, it hurts.”

“Are you safewording?”

She thought about it. Damn, she thought about it. But she’d told him she’d do anything, and this was anything. Fuck.

“No, sir. Please sir, please. God, it hurts.”

“What will you do for me if I give you permission to come down?”

“Anything, sir. Anything.”

“Really?” He smiled slowly, languidly, the way only a person who’s not in excruciating pain can smile. “But you told me that before, and I picked having you straddle the fence.”

“Please, sir, I’ll do anything, I’ll fuck you, you can fuck me, I’ll do anything,” she begged, unsure of what she was even saying at this point. She continued, panting, saying everything that could come to mind, everything she knew would get him hot.

“Good girl,” he whispered, finally, finally. And he lifted her up off the fence and into his arms.

“Thank you, sir, thank you thank you . . .”

The gratitude was as intense as the pain had been, even though a part of her deep down knew it was strange to thank him for something she could have so easily ended herself—all she had to do was hop off the fence.

She wasn’t bound. She could have safeworded out. Instead, she wanted him to be in complete control of her, of her movement, her pain, her pleasure. If her Master wanted her to torture herself for his enjoyment, then she’d do it with a smile and thank him.

“I liked your performance,” he said, taking her hand, still shaking with adrenaline, and running it over his hard cock, straining against his jeans. “Your face, your cries, your begging. You get me so hot, Jessica, I can’t even—”

He interrupted himself by turning her around, pushing her hands up against the fence, the fence that had just imparted such pain. Without another word, he pulled her pants down around her thighs, and she squirmed, not to get away, just because she could. The sound of his zipper coming down turned her on—knowing he was about to fuck her broken, sore pussy as hard as he could turned her on even more.

When he rammed inside of her, she was already dripping wet. Straddling the fence alone had done that to her. Knowing that she gave him pleasure, that she’d submitted to him, to his sadistic urges, made her high with arousal.

“Fuck me, sir, please, fuck me, I need you,” she gasped, and he tangled his hands in her hair, slamming inside her again before coming with a roar that rung in her ears.

“What will I do without you?” he whispered, and she turned to him.

“Without me? I’m not going anywhere, Roman. I . . . I—”

I love you.

But the words stuck in her throat. Surely if she told him how she felt, he’d run. He’d never committed to a woman like he had to her. She had him now, or rather, he had her. He’d collared her, allowed her to live with him in his home, sleep in his bed, kneel at his feet.

What more could she ask for, other than those three little words?

No. She needed to be smart about this. Declaring her love would scare him off, and when her parents arrived he’d find some excuse to send her back home with them. Perhaps that’s what this camping excursion was all about. The pain. The orgasm denial. Roman had to be testing her, trying to make her break up with him, so that he wouldn’t have to.

No wonder he asked what he’d do without her.

R
oman sat silently later that evening by the lake with his landscaper’s fishing rod in his hands, waiting for a bite. There was a rock jutting out that should provide a nice place for fish to hang out, so he just let the line ride, and waited.

He knew how to wait a long time for something he wanted. After all, he’d waited a lifetime to find a woman like Jessica. Now that he had her, would she stay?

How could he make her stay?

You’re sabotaging yourself, trying to make her leave you like this
, he thought. But it was the only way to know for sure that she really wanted to be with him. Unlike every other sub. Unlike Elisabeth, who’d broken his heart when she left.

Strange, though—what he’d thought was an unbearable loss at the time would seem like a paper-cut compared to how he’d feel if he lost Jessica. The way she submitted to him so naturally—as if her submission was as inherent in her being as breathing—instilled in him the desire to take care of her for as long as she’d allow. Even the way she took to training her body to be aroused by pain, to be the masochist to his sadist, proved that this girl was special. No . . . not just special. Jessica was everything.

He had to be sure that she wouldn’t break his heart. That was what this weekend was about. He didn’t truly think she only wanted his wealth. There were easier ways for a beautiful young woman to get rich other than putting up with him.

Exactly how much of him, the real Roman, could she handle?

No other woman had ever wanted to stay before. He had to find out, to know without a doubt, that she would stay.

Then there were her parents. They already didn’t approve of him being so much older than their baby girl. What would happen when they came to his home and realized he had money? He’d learned from experience not to assume that everyone would be thrilled with his success. Generations of people grew up with the belief that there was only a finite amount of money in the world, and that those who had it, had it at the expense of someone who didn’t.

It wasn’t true, of course. Roman hadn’t always been rich. He’d built his wealth with Trevor and Marc, the three of them. He donated to charities, gave freely of his time when he could. But her parents wouldn’t see any of that. They’d only see his financial domination over Jessica. They’d worry that she was only with him for his money. They’d worry that the money he had meant he was bad. Evil.