Locked (15 page)

"Oh god, oh fuck," I cried, already well past the point of no return.

"Now Sophia, I'm coming!"

I'd always thought simultaneous orgasms were a phenomenon reserved for porn and cheap romance novels, but Sebastian seemed to be making it a mission to show me how much I didn't know. We rocked together, our bodies writhing in ecstatic unison as our climaxes took hold. There was an incredible sense of connection in that moment, like we were sharing one orgasm that burst outward into both of us. He buried himself inside me almost to the point of pain, and I pushed back, my whole body clenching and tingling.

When it was over, we both fell boneless and breathless to the bed. For a while we just dozed in silence, content to bask in the glow of what had just happened. It seemed like I should say something, but I wasn't sure I could put into words what I was feeling at that moment.

My arms and legs were still bound, but I didn't mind. Lying there with one of his powerful arms wrapped around me, I felt completely safe.

"That was wonderful," he said, sometime later.

I nodded and let out a little sigh.

He reached up and began to unbind me. "You're a natural submissive, you know that? I know you were afraid, but once we began, you were perfect."

"I didn't know being tied up was considered a skill."

He laughed. It was a big, boisterous sound that shook the bed beneath me. "Don't think of it as a skill. Think of it as a mindset. It takes a lot of courage to give yourself to someone like that. Not everyone can do it."

"I guess so." A shiver rolled down my spine as I thought back on all the things I'd just let him do. "To be honest, it wasn't really what I was expecting," I continued. "Even after the other night, part of me still thought it would feel... wrong somehow. Like I was being exploited."

He nodded slowly. "Society has a lot of misconceptions about what we do. That's one of the big ones. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of guys out there who use it as an excuse to abuse women, but that's not what submission is really about. A true dom only has as much control as their partner allows. It's a gift given from one person to another, and don't think for one second I'm not thankful for that."

"Well, you're welcome," I replied, feeling a little bewildered by his words. "I hadn't really thought of it that way before, but it makes me feel better knowing you're not just waiting for the right moment to chain me to the bed and never let me leave."

"Only if you give me permission," he said with a grin.

"I'll keep that in mind."

A few minutes later, he drifted off. I tried to join him, but sleep wouldn't come. My mind was spinning, still trying to process all the new sensations and emotions that were swirling inside me.

I no longer had any doubt that Sebastian was right. I was a submissive. The way my body turned to hot clay in his hands was proof enough of that. But I had to be careful. I couldn't let myself get in too deep. It was hard not to feel some kind of connection when you gave yourself to somebody so completely like that, but the fact was that this was just business as usual for him. Something fun to pass the time. Letting myself believe it was anything else was dangerous. All I could do was enjoy it for what it was.

After another twenty minutes of tossing and turning, I decided that maybe I needed a little help shutting down. Slipping out from under the covers I headed over to the mini bar. The tiny bottle of champagne was thirty dollars, but given the rate for the room was almost certainly more than my monthly rent, I figured Sebastian wouldn't mind.

I'd been so drained by what we'd done, I'd had no time to look at the aftermath, but standing there in the moonlight, gazing at the scattered clothing, underwear, and kinky paraphernalia that littered the floor, I couldn't help but smile. If anyone were to burst in at that moment they'd have no trouble guessing what we'd been up to.

Surveying the room really highlighted how impressive it was. I made pretty good money, and was no stranger to splurging on the occasional fancy hotel when I felt like a treat, but this was unlike anything I'd ever seen. It made me wonder again about the man I'd tangled myself up with. I knew that kind of wanton disregard for money was common amongst the super-rich, and although I'd had my suspicions, he'd had answers to all of my questions. It should have been enough, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him than that.

Then again, perhaps I was just being paranoid. I had no illusions about my trust issues, and I didn't put it past my subconscious to try and sabotage a good thing before it could hurt me.

My reverie was interrupted by a buzzing sound behind me. Turning, I discovered that Sebastian had left his phone on the counter above the bar. The screen was lit up with a text message that had just arrived. My eyes ran over it before I could stop them. It took me a few seconds to process what I saw.

His wallpaper was a picture of a girl. Slim and blonde with a stunningly beautiful face, she wore one of those serene smiles that screams 'young and in love.' I felt a pang of jealousy gazing at those perfect features.

But it was the text message that had just arrived which really caught my eye.

Still thinking of you. Call me.

The number was not a listed contact, but there was an accompanying attachment. With shaking fingers I scooped it up and tapped the screen to open it, and a naked female body appeared before me. Her head wasn't visible, but her open legs and seductive pose left little doubt as to her intentions.

Nausea twisted my stomach, and the phone fell from my hand. I couldn't believe it. I'd just let Sebastian tie me up and do unspeakable things to me, and he'd been lying all along. My first instinct had been right. He wasn't any different, just another guy who would say and do whatever it took to get a girl into bed, and I'd fallen for it hook line and sinker. Who knew how many other women there were right now.

I suddenly felt dirty. Used. Nothing more than another water cooler story for the office next week.

Before I knew it, I was out the door, and then stumbling through the lobby. There was a different woman behind the counter now, younger and kinder looking. She gave me a sympathetic smile as I stormed past. It didn't surprise me. I was probably quite a sight. With my hair a mess, my makeup smeared, and my dress unfastened, I probably looked the epitome of a jilted lover.

Outside the storm had passed, leaving the ground slick and the air sharp. I wrapped my arms around myself to try and ward off the chill. It was late and I was a long way from my house, but I stubbornly ignored the taxis driving past. I couldn't stomach the idea of being around anyone at that moment.

The entire way home one thought just kept playing through my mind.

How could I have been so stupid?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Maya Cross is writer who enjoys making people blush. Growing up with a mother who worked in a book store, she read a lot from a very young age, and soon enough picked up a pen of her own. Her previous work spans many genres including horror, science fiction, and fantasy, and she has now started this pen name as an outlet for her spicier thoughts (they were starting to overflow). She likes her heroes strong but mysterious, her encounters sizzling, and her characters true to life.

She believes in writing familiar narratives told with a twist, so most of her stories will feel comfortable, but hopefully a little unique. Whatever genre she's writing, finding a fascinating concept is the first, and most important step.

The Alpha Group is her first attempt at erotic romance, and she is absolutely loving writing it.

When she's not writing, she's playing tennis, trawling her home town of Sydney for new inspiration, and drinking too much coffee.

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