The Dom of My Dreams: A BDSM Novel (43 page)

           
 
I had entertained the thought of moving into this place.
 
I’d even redecorated it in my mind, changing the bed’s blue and black comforter to one with more neutral, less masculine colors, adding a bit of a feminine touch to the rather elegant bachelor pad.
 
But, of course, it would never happen, especially now that I knew what Seton had been up to all of this time.

           
I heard footsteps approaching the door.
 
Hurriedly, I closed my eyes and crossed my hands over my stomach, trying to relax and go with the flow.
 
This little game Seton was playing with me would have to come to an end eventually.
 
But, for now, I’d just soak it up.
 
I would enjoy the sex.
 
I’d enjoy
him
.

           
I heard him enter the room, closing the door softly behind him.
 

“Keep your eyes closed,” he bit out.

He stood in front of me, staring at me (I presumed) in silence, only the sounds of his steady breathing poured into my ears.
 
Then he reached out and caught my wrists, guiding them toward the headboard.
 
He tied my wrists together against one of the board’s wooden grills using a smooth, satiny material.
 
Then he lifted my head slightly off the pillow and wrapped something around my head and over my eyes, tightening it on the back.
 
A blindfold.
 
Darkness surrounded me now, and I couldn’t simply open my eyes to make it go away.
 
My heart began to pound with trepidation.

           
The total loss of sight made me aware of my other senses.
 
I could smell the faint scent of Seton’s cologne and aftershave mixed with sweat and man, and heard the sounds of his movements and the occasional rumble of a passing car from outside.

           
I felt Seton bend his head close to my ear.
 

           
“Are you afraid, my pet?” he whispered, his breath warm against my neck.

           
My hands constricted against their restraints.
 
“Yes.”

           
“What are you afraid of?”

           
A mixture of apprehension and confusion stirred within me.
 
“I—I don’t know.”

           
“Afraid of me or…what?”

           
“I don’t know,” I repeated, my voice barely audible, even to my own ears.
 
“All I know is that I’m afraid.”

           
“Good.
 
You should be afraid.”
 
He took my earlobe between his lips and sucked in gently.
 
“What I’m about to do to you will be the scariest thing you will ever experience in your life.”

           
I gasped at his words.
 
So, he
did
intend to punish me!
 
And what could be worse than the spanking I’d been subjected to just a few weeks ago?
 
Horrible images flashed in my head, and I immediately shut them out.

           
He curled one arm around my waist and lifted me lightly off the bed, placing a small cushion underneath me.
 
My back was now arched, my nipples jutted up and my pussy scraped against the rough comforter.
 
The warmth of Seton’s body heat radiated from him, and I fought the urge to arch toward him, to drive away the chill that came from both the air conditioner and the cold fear coursing within me.
 
I fidgeted and kicked my feet against the bed, trying to figure out a way to break free from the restraints.

“Keep still!” Seton thundered.

“How long are you going to keep me here?”

“Until you’ve learned your lesson,” he answered darkly.
 
“Relax, Marjorie.
 
This will take some time.”

A fresh rush of fear coiled in the pit of my stomach.
 
My heart pounded cold blood through my veins, panic seeping its way through my entire system.
 
I shuddered and moved my wrists slightly in their bindings.
 
By now the silky restraints were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight.
 
My fingers itched to try to rip off the fabric somehow.
 
But I made no protests.
 
I would not defy Seton.
 
Not now.

There was a long silence in the room.
 
Where was he?

“Sir?”

“My pet.”
 
His deep voice came from somewhere beside me.
 
He hadn’t moved away.

I heard him open a drawer to his bedside table and rummage through papers and things.
 
Then I heard the drawer close shut.
 
I nearly fainted with fear when a cold, leathery, multi-tongued instrument brushed against the base of my throat.

“What—what is that?”

“It’s called a flogger.
 
Ever heard of it?”

My throat tightened as I nodded.
  
I had heard of floggers.
 
They were whipping instruments, commonly used during BDSM encounters.
 
Most of them were pretty harmless, while others—

“This is the cat o’ nine tails variety, similar to the ones used by the British Army centuries ago,” Seton said conversationally, sliding the tip of the flogger slowly down my neck.
 
“This will burn and mark your flesh.
 
The marks aren’t permanent, but they last for days, sometimes weeks.
 
And the whippings are painful.
 
Very
painful.
 
My spankings are gentle caresses compared to this.”

“Sir, please—”

His low chuckle echoed in my ears.
 
“What, are you begging me to whip you?”

“No.
 
Please don’t hurt me, Sir.”

He paused, then continued with his descent.
 
I gasped when I felt the flogger’s tails brush against my breasts.
 
I squirmed against the soft cushion that held my body up, but Seton grasped my shoulder firmly, holding me still.
 
The flogger trailed along my skin, over my breasts, circling a nipple with a slowness that made me shiver.
 
My nipples puckered in response in spite of the fear coursing through me.
 
Seton withdrew the flogger from my nipple, replacing it with his tongue.
 
His mouth captured my nipple, suctioning it and then withdrawing with a loud pop.
 

I gasped with pleasure, but remained guarded.
 
I remembered what he did at Mitch’s house—how he’d soothed and relaxed me just moments before the spankings began.
 
I wouldn’t let him fool me again.
 
Horrible pain was imminent, and I wanted to be prepared for it.
 
My breath came in rapid movements and my body tensed, bracing itself for sudden blows.

“Are you still afraid?” he asked me after moving away from my nipple.

“Yes.”

I felt his smile against my skin.
 
“You bloody well ought to be,” he murmured, his voice dark and intense.
 
“You have no idea how dangerous these bondage games can be in the hands of the wrong person.
 
You’re in a helpless state, my pet, and unspeakable things could be done to you right now.
 
Someone could hurt you, harm you, possibly even kill you, and there’s not a bloody thing you’d be able to do about it.”

My breath grew heavier as I lay there, body rigid, my outstretched arms straining against the smooth material that held them.
 
My throat constricted all the tighter at the sound of Seton’s harsh words.
 
I was aware of the dangers, and the risks, in this lifestyle.
 
But Seton would never hurt me that way—would he?
 

He smoothed the flogger all the way down to my abdomen, tracing a path down to my vagina.
 
Then I felt Seton’s fingers move down the smooth triangle between my thighs, slipping inside my aching folds.
 
He let out a low, raspy chuckle.
 

“You’re wet,” he teased.
 
“You know, I don’t think you’re quite as frightened as you say.”

“I
am
frightened,” I croaked.
 

“Yes,” he responded.
 
“But you’re also aroused.”

I was afraid, yet my body managed to respond favorably to Seton’s ministrations.
 
Either my brain was sending out all kinds of mixed signals, or my body knew better than to respond to my fear.
 

Seton’s fingers encircled my clit, causing me to gasp and wiggle against him.
 
A quivering urgency surged through my lower belly and radiated to the center of my being.
 
My body felt empty and unfulfilled, longing to surrender completely to Seton’s heady ministrations, but my mind willed it to remain rigid and to steel itself for impromptu blows.
 

But the blows never came.
 
Seton opened up his bedside drawer again and closed it.
 
Then I felt him move away.
 
I almost panicked when I heard the bedroom door open and close.

           
“Sir?”

           
Silence.

           
“Sir?”

           
More silence.
 
He was gone.
 
Or, at least, I assumed he was.
 
I lifted my head slightly off the plush pillows, straining my ears for any sign of movement.
 
But I heard nothing.
 
It was quiet, eerily so, and I’d never felt more afraid in my life.
 
I slumped back down on the bed and sighed.
 
I felt totally powerless, unable to see, unable to move, unable to do anything except to lie there, waiting for Seton to impose his power over me yet again, to prove that he called the shots, and to let me know that it would be that way until he got tired of me.
 
Tears filled my eyes behind the smooth silk of my blindfold.
 
I fought to hold them back, but it was only a matter of time before they trickled down my face.
 

           
A few minutes must have passed, but they felt like an eternity.
 
My thoughts were scrambled by the dull ache that had started in my raised arms and now swept up to my bound wrists, but one thought had escaped all of the confusion and remained in the forefront of my brain: I was lonely.
 
I had been lonely my whole life.
 
Jeremy was right.
 
No wonder I fell for Seton so fast!
 
My heart had been desperate for someone who remotely resembled what I had longed for.
 
And Seton was everything I’d ever longed for.
 
But he would leave me, and I would be alone again.
 
This is how it’s going to be, I thought, a soft sob escaping me.
 
This is how it’s going to feel like after he’s gone.
 
I will be alone again, and I’ll go back to that sad, pointless existence I had once bragged about so much.
 
I’ll go back to a life without hope.
 
Without love.
 
Without
him
.

“Don’t be afraid, my pet,” a velvety-smooth voice came from somewhere near the door.
 

           
I started at the sudden sound.
 
Had he been in this room all along?

           
“Yes,” he said, as if reading my mind.
 
“I’ve been standing here.
 
I didn’t leave you, my pet.
 
And I won’t leave you.”