The Swear Jar (26 page)

Chapter Thirty

Duncan led Meara across the path to
the cottage.  He opened the door and she stepped inside.  On the living room
wall were photographs of family and beach landscapes.  She became engrossed in
the photos while he locked the door behind them.  She heard the lock snap shut
and jumped.

He held her from behind.  “Relax. 
I don’t want us to be disturbed.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“I’m not going to hurt you or cut
you up into little pieces.  This time.”  He grabbed her waist.

She squirmed.  “You’re joking,
right?”

He held her tight.  “Yes, I’m
joking.  Do you trust me?”

She stopped squirming.  “Yes.”

He stroked her neck.  “Do you trust
me enough to let me do what I want to you?”

She gasped, arching her back
against his chest.  Her mind screamed for her to run, but she stayed rooted to
the spot.  The butterflies in her stomach were rioting.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Let’s have some fun.  If it gets
to be too much, we’ll stop.  We could use a safe word.”

Her heart was pounding.  “If things
get too crazy, we won’t need a safe word.  You’ll know it.  What are we talking
about here?”

He whispered in her ear.  “I owe
you a spanking.  We’ll have a bath and a snack.  Then we’ll make love.”

She relaxed.  “That doesn’t sound
so bad.  I had visions of an S&M dungeon.  A spanking?”

“A little role-playing?  Nothing
harmful, I promise.”

Sitting on the loveseat, he pulled
her down next to him.  Cupping her cheek, he ran his fingers through her hair
while he kissing her.  He snaked his arm around her waist and kissed her
deeply.

“You taste like the ocean.”  He ran
his hand down to her buttocks.  “Meara!  You have sand in your swimsuit. 
You’re going to get sand all over.  Take it off right now.  NOW.”

Clenching her jaw, her eyes
narrowed.  “You’re the one who pulled me onto the couch.”

“Are you being defiant?” he smirked
and then his voice changed.  “This would work better if you were defiant. 
Refuse to take it off.  I like that smoldering hate look in your eyes.”

She laughed.  “I get it.  Bad
girl.  I’ll try bad girl.  You want me to take it off?  No, I won’t.  I like
having sand between my cheeks.  It’s nice and itchy.”

He rolled his eyes.

She giggled.  “Sorry.  What are you
going to do about it, big guy?  I refuse to take it off.  I’m going to get sand
everywhere.”

He pulled her across his legs.  Her
knees were on the cushions and her hands were on the armrests.  Her buttocks
were right above his lap.  He pulled a wooden paddle from the night stand.

“What’s that?” she asked, eyes
widening.

“It’s the paddle from a paddle ball
set.  You’re long overdue for a spanking.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist
and pulled up the skirt to her swimsuit.  He slapped her buttocks carefully
with the paddle.  She gave a little squeak.  He slapped her again, a little
harder.  She gave a breathy gasp.

“Will you take your swimsuit off?” 
His voice was deep.

“No.”  She gave a low moan.  “Is
that all you’ve got?”

He raised his eyebrows.  He slapped
her lower on her buttocks.  She gasped, lowering her head and moving her
buttocks higher in the air.  She took a few ragged breaths.

“Again,” she said.

He slapped her harder.  She rocked
back and forth, breathing heavily.  He wasn’t interested in hurting her, but
her reactions were arousing him.

“Don’t stop.  I’ve been bad.  Show
me how bad I’ve been,” she whispered.

He slapped her four more times.  He
slapped the spot where she had had the best reaction, increasing the strength
of his slap each time.  She was gasping and moaning.

“Are you going to take it off now?”
he demanded huskily.

“Yes.  I’ll take it off.  Where?”

“In the bathroom.”

Her eyes were smoldering.  She
wanted him.  He pulled her into the bathroom.  The room was illuminated by
candles.  The large garden tub was filled with bubbles.  Candles, sand pebbles
and chocolate kisses lined the rim of the tub.  A sand bucket held a bottle of
champagne on ice.  Two fluted glasses stood ready.  It was a romantic scene and
she had a dreamy look on her face.  She pressed close to him, finding out she
wasn’t the only one aroused.

He slipped his fingers under her
swimsuit straps.  He roughly pushed them down to her hips.  He slipped his
hands inside, working it past her hips and to the floor.  She was naked and
vulnerable.  He stepped back to look at her.  She had never been confident
about her body.  He didn’t touch her and she began to tremble.  She dipped her
head and covered her breasts.

“No.  Don’t.  You’re beautiful. 
Don’t hide.”  He slipped off his swimsuit.

She couldn’t help looking at him. 
She smiled shyly when she saw he was aroused.  She ached to touch him.  She
reached out for him.  He grabbed her wrists.

He laughed.  “Into the bathtub, you
dirty girl.”

“I’m not a bad girl anymore?  I’m a
dirty girl?  How dirty am I?”

They climbed into the deep tub. 
Her breasts bobbed in the water, making the bubbles swirl.

“You’re a VERY dirty girl.  It’ll
take a lot of hard work to get you clean.”  He reached for the champagne.

One last turn of the corkscrew made
the bottle pop, spilling a little into the bathwater.  He poured the glasses
while she held them.  He put the bottle back and she handed him a glass.

“Nice use of a sand bucket,” she
giggled.

“It was a nice touch,” he grinned. 
“A toast.  To us.”

“To us.  I should warn you, it
doesn’t take much alcohol to get me silly.”

“Then I’ll make you finish that
glass and have another.  To my silly Meara.”

“To my surprise planning Duncan.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“I’m having a very good time.  I
may not be able to sit down tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it.”  She lowered her
voice.

With his glass empty, Duncan moved
closer to Meara.  She watched him carefully.  Unwrapping a piece of chocolate, he
placed it in her mouth.  She let the chocolate melt.  Wanting to stay in
control of herself, she slowly drank her champagne.  She didn’t want to spoil
his fun by becoming too giggly.

“Finish it,” he ordered.  “I won’t
let anything happen to you.  I promise.”

She drank the last bit of
champagne.  He took the glass from her and placed it next to his.  She picked
up a piece of chocolate and placed it on his tongue.  He kissed her.  Her mouth
tasted like champagne and chocolate.  A flush extended down from her cheeks to
her neck.  She wasn’t kidding about her reaction to alcohol.  He had to be very
careful.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.  A little warm, but I’m okay. 
If I start to giggle uncontrollably, we’re in trouble,” she said.

He took two small facecloths from
the other sand bucket.  He threw one in the water and with the other, moved towards
her.

“My dirty girl needs to be
cleaned.  I can’t trust you to clean yourself.  I’ll have to do it for you. 
Now hold still.”

She giggled.  “Wait!  What do you
think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to take this cloth and
rub it all over you until you are clean.  The bath and bubbles will get rid of
all that nasty sand.”  He rubbed the facecloth over her shoulders.

She watched him, lust in her eyes. 
He rubbed her arms and chest, then her breasts.  She panted, her face turning a
light red.  The champagne was kicking in as he wrapped his arm around her
waist.  He rubbed her buttocks, legs and feet.  She giggled, taking great gulps
of air.  He worked his way to her inner thighs.  As he locked eyes with her,
the giggling stopped.  She eased back against the tub and sighed.  He gently
massaged between her legs.  Her flush subsided.

She took the other facecloth.  She
washed his chest.  He was sitting on the floor of the tub.  He pulled her onto
his lap.  She wrapped her legs around him.  He slowly bounced her up and down
to thwart her attempts to reach between his legs.  She held his shoulders as
she moaned softly.  She was riding in his lap, her breasts bobbing with each
bounce.  She was trembling.  She wanted him to take her now.  He stopped
bouncing her.

“The water’s getting cold,” he
said, holding up her hand.  “Look, you’re pruning.  Time to get out of the tub,
you naughty little girl.”

Not expecting this, she was dazed. 
“Get out?”

He pulled the stopper, letting the
water drain out.  He stepped out of the tub, pulling her after him.  He wrapped
a towel around himself and then one around her.  He tucked the end of the towel
into her cleavage.  He took a smaller towel and wrapped her hair.

“Naughty girl?” she asked,
confused.

“Naughty, hungry girl.  All pruned
up and in need of a snack.”  He led her to the bedroom.

He sat her on the bed, tousling her
hair with the towel.  She sat with her hands on her chest, holding the towel
closed.  Once he was satisfied her hair wasn’t damp, he lovingly dried her face
and neck.  Walking back to the bathroom, he dried his own hair and tossed the
wet towel into the bathtub.  He retrieved his surprises from the kitchenette
and put them on the night stand.  She sat on the edge of the bed with a puzzled
expression.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
she whispered.

“A little,” he whispered, kneeling
by her feet and rubbing her thighs.  “Do you trust me?”

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“No, you don’t.  Not entirely.  I
don’t blame you.  It takes time.  I have your heart.  I know you love me.  I
have your soul.  I feel it when you’re in my arms.  I have your body.  I know
you want me.  I don’t have your mind, not yet.  You find it hard to let go.  I
can see it in your eyes, there’s a dragon inside you, Lady Meara.”

She flinched.  She tried to bow her
head.  He pulled up her chin to look at him.

“It’s true.  Don’t deny it.  I see
it smoldering in your eyes.  Those eyes can change from sky blue to
storm-tossed North Atlantic gray to green blue.  There’s a fire-breathing
dragon jealously protecting your mind.  I want your mind.  I want you to share
it with me.”

She squirmed.  He took her hands. 
He kissed her.  He locked eyes with her.  She panted.

“When you look into my eyes, the
dragon is lulled.  Your mind grows quiet and you’re happy.  I want you to be
like that all the time.  I don’t want to slay your dragon.  I want you to
unleash her power.  Use it.  Show me who you really are.  Make the dragon let
go of your mind.”

Putting a finger on her lips, he
led her to the top of the bed.  He pulled down the bedclothes and removed the
pillows.  He made her get into the bed, lying down in the center.  Her head was
close to the slatted wooden headboard.  He straddled her, pinning her legs
under him.  He leaned down, kissing her.  He pulled her wrists above her head. 
He wrapped a length of rope around her wrist, tying it to the headboard slat. 
He did the same to her other wrist with another length of rope.  He kissed her
deeply.  Reaching over to the night stand, he placed the sleep mask over her
eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she murmured.

She sighed.  Her heart pounded. 
She was panicking.  She felt helpless and trapped.  She curled her fingers into
fists.  She wondered what he was going to do.

Calmly, he said, “Say stop and
we’ll stop.  The ropes are wrapped around your wrists, not tied.  The mask will
heighten the sensations.  Let go and relax.”

Meara whispered, “What are you
going to do to me?”

“I’m not going to do anything to
you.  We’re going to do things together.  We’re going to have some fun.  I have
things for you to taste.  I want you to feel safe and relaxed.  Can you do
that?” asked Duncan.

“I’ll try,” she whimpered.

She unclenched her fists.  She took
a deep breath and then exhaled.  He nodded.

“You’ve been a naughty girl. 
Staying so long in the tub you pruned.  Making me bounce you while you were
trying to play with me.  Let’s see if you’re nice and dry and clean.”  Putting
his fingers inside the knotted towel at her cleavage, he pulled it open.

She took several ragged breaths. 
Her body was exposed.  He groaned appreciatively.  Still straddling her, he
kissed her deeply.  He cooed in her ear to calm her.  Sitting back on his
knees, he removed his own towel and reached for the first container on the
night stand.

He took out a strawberry.  “Are you
ready?”

She whispered, “Yes.”

He let her smell it.  “What is
this?”

“A strawberry.”

“Take a bite.”

She took a bite.  She chewed it and
swallowed.  He finished the strawberry and kissed her.  He tasted like
strawberries.  She licked her lips.

“See?  You were hungry, weren’t
you?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

He reached for the next container. 
It held blueberries.  He placed a blueberry in her belly button.  She jumped,
but he cooed reassuringly.  He placed a line of blueberries up her belly to her
chin.  He let her smell a blueberry.  He placed it in her mouth.  She ate it
slowly.  Starting at her belly button, Duncan used his tongue to pick them up
one by one.  He slowly made his way up to her neck.  Her fingers flexed and she
panted.  He picked up the last blueberry and kissed her, feeding it to her.

“Do you like blueberries?” he asked
huskily.

He had come up with this fantasy so
she would trust him, give him control and relax her mind.  He hadn’t counted on
this fantasy having a strong effect on him.

“Yes.”  She sounded sleepy.

She didn’t like being naked in
front of him.  She was vulnerable, but she was beginning to relax.  The
agitated butterflies were calming down.  He was right about the mask amplifying
the senses.  She felt a dull ache between her legs.  She wondered how he would
awaken the dragon.  She wondered if he was ready.  He reached for the
bear-shaped honey bottle.  He squeezed until there was a line of honey between
her breasts.  He put a dab on each of her nipples.