Eraser Lilac (3 page)

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Authors: Megan Keith

BOOK: Eraser Lilac
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Mackenzie had her ear pressed against him.  She could hear his heart beating, steady and strong. 
Who knew the sound of someone’s heartbeat could be such a comfort? 
Mackenzie closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of his heavenly scent. She lost track of time, being held in his strong arms, while he gently stroked her hair, his body pressed against hers and her eyes shut. Eventually Sir relaxed his hold and pulled back. She gazed up at him when he lifted her chin with his fingers. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

“Are you hungry?” he asked softly. She silently nodded then smiled against his skin when he pushed her back into his chest and made no attempt to leave the bed. “I’ll get Hilda to rustle us up something to eat,” he said a few minutes later, before untangling himself from her and jumping from the bed.

Mackenzie rolled over to watch his naked body walk into the closet.  She bit her lip at the sight of his scrumptious tight ass.  His body truly was superb.  He returned a moment later wearing black satin pajama bottoms, the look stole her breath away.  There was something about his gorgeous body tucked into that expensive material that did her in.  She was so busy admiring his taut abs and defined V that, at first, she didn’t hear him say her name.

“Mmm?” was her eventual reply, when she finally tore her eyes from his body and looked back up to his expectant face.

“Would you like to shower?” he repeated, cocking his eyebrow.  He was pleased to see her eyeing his body appreciatively, lust again swarming her eyes. 

He wants to go again? In the shower? He’s insatiable
, she thought in a daze.
 
She nodded her head in answer and sat up.  As tired as her body was, she wasn’t about to turn him down. 

“Put that on after your shower and meet me in the dining room,” he said, surprising her.

He pointed to something he had laid on the end of the dresser, beside the bathroom door, and then left the room. She sighed with disappointment, and perhaps a little relief, too.

Idiot. He put pants on, of course he wasn’t about to join you in the shower. You’re the one that’s insatiable!

She stood on wobbly legs and turned to see the remains of her clothing, shredded and in a crumpled mess, strewn across the bed. She smiled to herself.

Whatever this is … I want more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mackenzie closed her eyes and lifted her face to the hot spray of the shower. She thought over her time with Sir. She was struggling to come to terms with the fact that she had just allowed a man to do whatever he wanted with her body, destroy her clothing, scare her and then fuck her until she ached. She had submitted to him, something that, until a week ago, she didn’t think she ever wanted. Even though he hadn’t said it directly, yet, it seemed that’s what he was – a Dom. She didn’t really know much about the Dominant/submissive world but she had quickly agreed to call him Sir and allowed him to do whatever he pleased. It scared her and excited her all at once.

The mysterious man from the bar, which she had fantasized about, was so much more than she could ever have imagined. 
One night.
  That’s all she had ever really expected, or hoped for, until she’d had it, that is.  Then she had wanted nothing but to do it all over again.  And again.  Now he was back – in a major way – and she was thrilled, but he was so unpredictable, it was hard to tell what would come next with him.  Sir was so serious and demanding but she saw glimpses of humor and kindness as well.  She wondered who exactly she would be starting this ‘relationship’ of sorts with, if that’s what he wanted.  Whatever the goal was, Mackenzie was determined to get some answers at breakfast.

After drying herself with a luxuriously soft towel, she fingered her wet hair until it resembled something slightly untangled.  She really needed a brush or comb but didn’t feel right searching through Sir’s bathroom vanity to find one.  She breathed in the room around her, it smelled of him.  She had used copious amounts of his shampoo, conditioner and liquid soap while showering and she revelled in the scent.  She grabbed the item Sir had told her to wear and held it up.  It was a black satin robe that matched the pajama bottoms he had on.  When she slid it on and wrapped it around her body she couldn’t help but feel enveloped by him.  The silkiness of the material sent goose bumps across her skin.

She exited the bedroom and looked first left, then right.  She had no idea how to get to the dining room from here (having been brought up while she was unconscious) but spotting the balustrade of a staircase on her left she figured that was a good place to start.  Trailing her hand along the dark, glossy, intricately carved wood railing, she made her way to the top of the stairs.  The foyer below looked larger from this angle than what she remembered from last night.  When Simon had ushered her into the dining room she had been so nervous that she hadn’t really taken it all in.  The large, open space looked different in the daylight too. It was bright and airy. The black marble floor tiles were so shiny that they reflected every surface and piece of furniture dotting the outskirts of the room, as well as the large chandelier above her head. The dark walls and the white trimmings were striking, it really was a prominent entrance way. As she descended the stairs, the majesty of the space was a little overwhelming.

Her bare feet hit the cool tiles at the bottom of the staircase, sending a chill through her body.  She hastened her pace to reach the comfort of the carpet in the dining room at a quicker speed. 
If only I could remember where that is.
 

Heading through the foyer she looked into the room on the left.  It appeared to be some sort of sitting room.  It was straight from the pages of an architectural or interior decorators’ magazine.  Styled to perfection, to resemble some sort of old English country manor, it was filled with art work and early twentieth century décor.  It was a contradiction to the modern foyer but somehow it worked. 

She heard the clank of dishes coming from the next room and quickly continued along, her feet aching with how cold the floor was. Walking through the open double doorway, she spotted Sir at the head of the table with his back to her and she paused. Memories of last night, of him seated in the chair adjacent to where he was now, while she was on her knees in front of him, flooded her mind.

“Come,” Sir beckoned, sensing her presence without having to turn. “Take a seat.”

Mackenzie stepped forward and sat in the chair she’d occupied last night. Spread before her was an array of foods, from fruit to croissants, bacon, a plate with pancakes and a bowl filled with muesli. As her eyes took it all in her belly made its intention clear with an appreciative rumble. She couldn’t decide what she wanted to eat, it all looked so scrumptious.

“Eat,” Sir commanded.

Mackenzie gingerly picked a croissant and placed it on the empty plate in front of her.

“Butter?” Sir asked, holding a dish to her.

“Thank you,” she replied, taking it.  As she prepared her breakfast she could feel his eyes on her.  It had been a strange morning,
the strangest
, and she couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. She wanted answers to her questions but her determination and confidence were faltering just being in his presence.

Her natural beauty was devastating. Straight from the shower, she wore no make-up, her hair a damp mess – it was refreshing to see. Far better than the women he usually saw. “Coffee?” he asked, presenting the jug to her.

“Yes, please.” She loved that he was serving her. She lifted her cup toward him, the fabric of the robe moving up her arm as she did. His eyes focused on her marked wrist and she felt the need to cover it up when she saw the worry in his eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, answering his unspoken question, when his eyes flicked to hers.

“Feeling refreshed after your shower?” he asked, purposely ignoring her comment. She looked far from fine, she looked damn magnificent. The marks on her wrists, while not exactly pretty and already fading, were a great reminder of what they had done. The thought of branding her as his had his body humming. He poured her coffee, replaced the jug to its stand and returned his eyes to hers.

“Yes, thank you… Sir.” She bit into the croissant, its buttery pastry melting in her mouth before she swallowed. His intense, dark eyes were focused on her lips as she ate. She couldn’t stop herself from licking them and smiling at his obvious reaction – lust was written all over his face. The power she felt at causing it helped her relax. “What is it that you do? For work I mean.”

“It’s not important.” He brushed off her attempt at a normal conversation and it annoyed her.

“It is to me, since I know nothing else about you.”

“Why is it vital to you?”

“Why is everything a secret?” she countered. When he didn’t answer she watched him in silence and she was sure she could detect vulnerability on his face. It was the way he avoided eye contact as he ate. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” he replied haughtily. “Eat your breakfast.”

Mackenzie shook her head, fought to roll her eyes at him, and continued to eat. Had she really felt like she belonged with him earlier this morning? She contemplated what belonging to the man seated with her actually meant. It was becoming more and more obvious that he wanted to have total control, over everything, even their conversation. But could she allow him full control over her?

“Do you know much about Dominant/submissive relationships?” he asked, as if reading her mind.

Mackenzie gulped, her heart raced. “Only what I’ve read in novels,” she admitted sheepishly.

He smiled his genuine smile. “You like to read smutty books, hey?”

“Of course.” She smiled back. “I’m a hot-blooded woman, why wouldn’t I?”

He nodded.  “I want you to bend to my will.  Obey me.  Give me control of your body.  Let me own you, Mackenzie.”

A shiver of delight went through her body.

“Be mine.” He stared at her intensely.

“I don’t do relationships,” she said numbly.

“Neither do I.”

And that was the truth. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. When he had first seen Mackenzie and started imagining her bowing to him, servicing him, submitting, it had caught him off guard. He was drawn to her on a primal level, in a way he had never felt before. Being an intellectual man, who liked to be informed, he started studying the art of the Dominant/submissive world. It fascinated him and thrilled him. It was something he hadn’t realized that he craved until he met her. He’d always tended to be possessive in the bedroom but it wasn’t until seeing Mackenzie that he’d felt the need for total domination.

He sat adjacent to her as they silently ate their breakfast, both of them lost to their thoughts.  He had learned a thing or two since discovering his dominant tendencies, practiced them a little too.  While both satisfying and educational, his previous Dom/sub encounters had been lacking in some way.  He continued to hone his skills regardless – he wanted to succeed, and he wanted to claim Mackenzie as his prize. 
And hell, I love to fuck! Who doesn’t?

But somehow he knew it would be different with her. He originally thought one night and she would be out of his system. He was so very wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t want to date you Mackenzie,” he said, solemnly, cutting her from her thoughts.

She immediately got angry and upset. 
So he just wants me for sex, he doesn’t do relationships? I should feel relieved, so why do I feel hurt?

“What is it you want?” she asked, barely above a whisper. She bit her tongue to fight the unexpected tears that stung her eyes and threatened to fall.

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