Marissa Day (14 page)

Slowly, Thomas released her and stood. He planted one booted foot on the stool and rested his arm against his thigh so he could look down on her, and let her take a long look at him. She felt a tiny, fragile thing, quite helpless against his strength. Her mouth went dry and her heart fluttered.

“You made me lose control the other night, Jane,” Thomas said sternly.

“I . . . ?” She feigned surprise.

“Yes, my pretty wanton. With that pert mouth on my cock, so very eager and greedy.” He reached down and ran his thumb across her lower lip. A shiver of desire danced across her skin. “You liked it, didn’t you? You liked sucking on my cock.”

Jane lowered her eyes in a mock show of humility. “I did like sucking your cock, Master Thomas. But I thought . . . I thought only to please you.”

“Very aptly spoken.” He strode to the fireplace and folded his hands behind his back, slapping the back of one into the palm of the other in a steady rhythm. She watched his profile closely, thought she saw a moment of indecision, but it was gone so quickly she could not be sure. “I have told you time and again, I expect discipline from you,” he said firmly. “I will have you understand I know more of pleasure than you, and it is I who will decide how it is meted out.”

“Yes, Master Thomas,” she whispered.

“So, another lesson is in order, do you not agree?”

“Yes, sir.” All the muscles at her center tightened. She was flushed and hot, and just a little bit frightened. What would he demand of her this time?

“Very good.” He dropped himself into a nearby chair, his legs splayed wide, his posture both indolent and utterly confident. “Then undress for me. Now.”

J
ane’s heart hammered as she rose to her feet. The game had begun, and she wanted to play her best. So she curtsied low with her eyes demurely downcast. She undid the sash and hooks of her robe, found the ribbons for the nightdress underneath and loosened the knots. Then she shrugged both garments from her shoulders, letting them pool at her feet so she could step out of their confining drapery.

She stood before Thomas in just her chemise. His eyes traveled up and down her body, lingering at her breasts. Her nipples tightened under his heated gaze. The corner of his mouth curled up into a lustful and appreciative smile. The candlelight showed the outline of his swelling cock under his buckskins, and Jane felt her mouth watering again. Her pussy was already soft, and she felt the formation of its hot, greedy tears as she anticipated his touch. Feeling greatly daring Jane walked toward him, loosening the ribbons on her chemise as she went. She slipped down one muslin sleeve, then the other. The sheer undergarment slid to the floor, the fabric caressing her body deliciously as it fell.

She stood before him, entirely naked. His gaze swept her body as the falling chemise had, touching her everywhere, lingering on her pussy until she thought she would scream from desire.

“Open my buttons, Jane,” he said at last. “Take out my cock.”

Trembling, she knelt and quickly undid the buttons on his fly. He was going to order her to suck him, she was sure of it. It had felt so good to have him filling her mouth, to run her tongue around his taut velvet skin and hear him groan. Now she would have that power and pleasure again. Excitement coiled tight inside her.

She ran her hand under his balls as she lifted him free, savoring how tight they were already. She licked her lip deliberately, ready to take him, waiting only for his command.

“Now back away.”

Her eyes flew to his. “But . . .”

“Do as you are told.”

Confused, Jane stood and retreated three small, uncertain steps. Thomas nodded. “That’s right, Jane. Remember, you are in need of your lesson. You will go to the cabinet and open it. Inside, there is a red velvet rope. Bring it to me.”

There was no mistaking the cabinet he meant. She had noted it on her first visit. It was a huge, japanned wardrobe, its gleaming black surface decorated with a design of flying cranes and golden fans. Jane turned the slick handles to open both doors, and stopped, stunned.

Inside was a collection of objects such as she had never seen. Ropes of silk and velvet hung on hooks, some knotted, some plain. A coiled, velvet whip hung next to a complex arrangement of silver chains. One shelf was filled with lengths of colored satin folded beside circlets of fur and velveteen. On other shelves, intricately carved wooden boxes and beautiful perfume bottles waited with elongated objects of glass, jade and ivory, some of which looked startlingly like penises.

“I’m waiting, Jane,” growled Thomas.

Jane swallowed against the nervousness that quivered at the base of her throat. After a moment’s searching, she found a coil of red velvet rope hanging at the back of the cabinet. She reached for it and turned. Thomas’s eyes glowed hungrily, almost predatorily, in the firelight. The fingers of one hand ran idly up and down his gorgeously exposed cock. A sigh escaped Jane. She wanted that to be her hand fondling him. She wanted to kneel at his feet where she could give him pleasure and receive his touch.

“You like it, don’t you, Jane.” He stroked himself roughly once. “You like a hard cock.”

“Yes, sir.” Her fingers tightened around the velvet rope.

“You like looking at it, but you like touching it more.”

“Yes.”

“What else do you like? Say it.”

“I like your cock in my mouth.” She squeezed the rope, twisted it, wished desperately she had his cock in her hands instead. “And in my pussy.”

“Are you wet, Jane?”

“Yes, sir. Very.”

“That’s good. Now.” He held out his free hand. “Bring me the rope and go lie down on the bed.”

She could barely make herself move, even to go closer to him. It was torment to watch him touching himself and yet to be unable to touch him. Her nipples hardened to the point of pain, and her heart hammered against her ribs. Her thighs rubbed together with each step, and all she could think about was how his hand would feel between her legs, sliding upward to press against the drenched folds of her pussy.

She laid the rope across Thomas’s palm and turned. She couldn’t breathe. She could barely see straight. His heated gaze was like a caress against her back. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

As she drew closer to the bed, Jane could see the headboard’s design of swans, lilies and swirling water was actually pierced through in several places. The green silk coverlet felt cool and sensuously smooth under her buttocks as she sat down.

“In the center,” Thomas ordered.

Rebellion sparked. He meant to make her crawl, or slide awkwardly. She would do neither. If he was going to make her watch him, she would repay the favor. Jane swung her legs up until she lay flat on her back, threw her arms over her head and rolled to the center of the luxurious emerald sea.

“Very pretty,” he murmured.

She glanced sideways. Oh, yes, he was stroking himself, harder now. He liked what he saw.

“I am so glad you approve, sir.” She smiled at him, and shimmied a little.

“Mischief, mischief.” Thomas stood and swiftly rid himself of his clothes. But all that time, his hungry gaze remained focused on her, pinning her in place on the soft bed. Proud and powerful in his nakedness, he loomed over her, his eyes on fire, his heavy cock rock-hard and ready for her, and the velvet rope coiled in his fist. Jane looked up at him, ready to beg or do any other thing he asked, if only he would touch her.

Thomas lifted the rope and laid one loop between her breasts. “You must learn to trust me, Jane.” He drew the velvet across her straining nipples. She gasped in surprise at how good the caress of the soft fabric felt, which only made Thomas smile. “I do not simply command your pleasure. I desire it, and I will have it, every aspect of it. Each order I give is to discover that pleasure. Each punishment is to teach you to trust in our . . . in your pleasure.”

Slowly, so she could see each motion, he lifted the rope from her and began uncoiling it. Jane’s heart thumped once. What was he doing?

“Spread your arms.”

The nervousness that had been confined to her throat spread through body, but, strangely, it in no way dampened the burn of her desire. Jane stretched her arms out to either side, and waited.

Swiftly, Thomas slipped a length of velvet rope around her wrist, then secured the other end to the pierced headboard.

“What . . . ?”

“You are unruly and undisciplined, miss,” he announced as he circled the bed. “It is time someone taught you to behave properly.” He looped a second segment of velvet around her other wrist and secured it similarly.

“But . . .”

“But what?” he snapped.

“I won’t be able to touch you.”

“No. Not until I give my consent.” He stood back and his shining eyes raked her. “It is so very pleasant, to see my sweet Jane lying helpless in my bed. I’ve half a mind to leave you like this, while I sit on the sofa and tell you the many games I have planned. Perhaps I’ll touch myself and make you watch.” He stroked his shaft thoughtfully and Jane could not suppress a moan. “Oh, how you would beg to be allowed to make me come with that pretty mouth.”

“Yes,” groaned Jane. His words were building new tension within her. She imagined him stroking himself, harder and faster, imagined watching his desire take him to the peak of pleasure. She’d ache, she’d burn, but oh, how sweet it would be.

“And after I’ve spilled myself, I might make you suck me until I grew hard again and ready to take you however I fancied.”

“Yes.” She shifted her hips, straining against the ropes to reach him. “Anything.”

“Another time, perhaps.” Thomas smiled wickedly. “Tonight I have other delights in mind.”

Thomas turned and walked out of her field of vision. Jane let her head flop down onto the silken pillow with a groan of frustration, which only earned her a chuckle. It was as well she was tied, or she might have been tempted to slap him for that. But that would probably have just earned her yet another punishment, and really it was all too much.

The mattress sank and Jane turned her head. Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and lifted up one of the delicate glass bottles she had seen in the black and gold cabinet.

“Sandalwood oil,” he told her as he swirled the amber-colored liquid above the candle flame. “Highly prized for the making of perfumes, and very precious.” He undid the stopper and released a warm and spicy scent into the room.

He tipped the bottle over her, pouring out shimmering liquid across her breasts and nipples, down her belly and onto each outstretched arm. Jane gasped and shrugged her shoulders, uncertain whether she liked this new tickling sensation or not. But before she could protest, Thomas set the bottle down, and slung his leg over her, capturing her thighs between his. He wrapped his broad hands firmly around her ribcage, and began to rub the oil into her skin.

This was nothing like his other caresses. There was nothing teasing or demanding in this touch, and yet a pleasant languor spread through her body.

“Mmmm . . .” Jane’s eyelids slowly fluttered closed.

He stroked her skin firmly, kneading her muscles in a way that was quite new and strange to her. The oil warmed as he rubbed it into her skin. Where it touched, Jane imagined she shimmered golden with the precious substance. She floated adrift in a world where there was only the cloud of spiced scent and the mellow pleasure of his touch. She was beyond thought or worry or mischief. Even when he cupped her pussy to rub the sandalwood oil there, even when he stroked her forehead and temples, his oiled fingers sliding sensuously across her skin, she only sighed softly. She forgot the ropes that held her, forgot the spikes of need that had pierced her only moments before. This was a constant, perfect sweetness. She could lie here forever, with him massaging her in just this way and be content.

“So beautiful,” Thomas breathed. “Never has there been a woman so beautiful.”

Jane’s eyelids drifted open, and what she saw caught her breath. His face had relaxed, and though she had never thought of him as old, he looked much younger somehow, as if some part of him long held closed had been opened. Instead of mischief, there was wonder in his green eyes. No, not wonder. Awe.

“Only with you,” she breathed. “Only for you.”

“Oh, by all that’s holy, Jane . . .” Thomas leaned forward, stretching his body fully against hers and kissed her. It was a slow kiss, lingering, thorough and fully in the moment, just like his touch had been. Jane kissed him back, delighting in the play of her tongue against his, the weight of his chest against her heavy breasts, and best of all, his cock stroking against her belly. The mellow contentment began to ebb from her limbs, replaced by desire’s more urgent compulsions. She felt it in Thomas too, not just in his hot, hard cock, but in his increasing heartbeat, in the press of his mouth as he strove to thrust more deeply into her. She moved to wrap her arms around him, but the ropes she had forgotten for so long brought her up short.