Until I Break (25 page)

At the top of the stairs, I turn to the
right, toward the room my things are in. All my senses are on high
alert, but I’m not as nervous as I would’ve been had I not downed a
couple of drinks before Alec arrived. I’m far from drunk, but it
did manage to take the edge off.

I twist the knob and push open the door,
stopping just outside it so Alec can look in. I’m sure he has an
inkling of what I’m up to, but I want to give him the full
effect.

Nearly every surface is covered in lit
candles, giving the room a soft, dreamy feel that’s incongruous
with the kinky paraphernalia scattered about. I watch Alec’s face
as he scans the area, making note of several items before glancing
back at me.

He says nothing, just arches that one brow.
It’s almost like he’s daring me.

My stomach flips over. I tug on his hand,
pulling him further into the room and closing the door behind him.
I reach up to remove his domino. And then I remove mine.

“You promised you’d help me. And I’m not
cured yet,” I explain as I reach for his tie, loosening the
knot.

“Is that right?”

I nod, releasing the first button on his
shirt and then letting my hands trail down his flat stomach to
coyly graze the bulge behind his zipper.

I throw off every “Samantha” insecurity and
embrace the brazen Laura Drake in me. I trade soft for sexy, docile
for daring, fearful for fearless.

I cup him boldly, leaning in to whisper in
his ear, “Now’s your chance to show me.” I nip his lobe, hard
enough to feel it all the way in
my
stomach. There’s
something intoxicating about being this way, about burying Samantha
and all her issues for a little while and just feeling, exploring.
Risking.

“Show you what,” he asks, his arm winding
around my waist to pull me closer.

I lean back to look into his face.
“Everything.”

Alec’s hand moves up my back and into my
loose hair. I feel his fingers curl into a fist. “Are you sure you
want to do this? Are you sure you’re ready?”

I cup his face in my hands and drag my tongue
along his lower lip before I suck it into my mouth. “As ready as
I’ll ever be.”

Alec’s hand tugs on my head, roughly angling
it for his mouth. When it descends on mine, I taste his hunger. I
taste the ravenous beast I’m attempting to unleash. And while there
is excitement and anticipation and desire like nothing I’ve ever
known, still, there is a dash of fear sprinkled among the rest. But
Alec needs this. And so do I. It’s for those reasons that I
continue.

I plant my hands against Alec’s chest and
push with all my might. He lets me go, his breathing ragged and his
eyes dark with wicked, feral passion.

I back away from him, reaching behind me to
unzip my dress as I go. I pull the sleeves off my shoulders and let
the garment fall to my waist, revealing the black gossamer teddy
beneath.

Alec’s eyes travel to my length and back
again, stopping to focus on my nipples. I feel them harden, ready
for what’s to come. I know he can see them perfectly through the
sheer material. It’s not meant to leave much to the
imagination.

I stop and wiggle my hips, letting the
material of my dress fall to a heap on the floor around my black
high heels. I stand straight and tall before him, knowing that he
can see every curve and valley and shadow, even in the pale
candlelight. And he can see the delicate zippers that give him
access to various body parts, all his for the quick flick of his
fingers. But I’m sure he knows that. I found this among the items
he ordered from Ursula. I was appalled at first. Now I’m
excited.

Carefully stepping out of the puddle of my
dress, I walk to the bed and climb onto it, standing with my legs
spread and my hair teasing my shoulders. Alec’s eyes are like hot
coals on me, burning every surface they touch, setting my world on
fire.

Slowly, I reach down and take the zipper tabs
that begin at my navel and I pull down and out, at an angle toward
my hips. When the zippers stop, I tug and a large piece of sheer
material falls away from my lower abdomen and crotch, leaving me
bare from waist to groin. With a flourish I fling it to the side
and drop to my knees on the bed, reaching to my left and right to
take the ends of two black silk scarves tied to the bed. I wind
them around my wrists.

“Show me,” I repeat, my eyes trained on
his.

Alec hesitates only for a second. I’m not
sure why, whether it’s the fact that
I’m
challenging
him,
or the thought that I might end up freaking out.
Whatever the cause, it lasts only for a split second. I know the
instant he gives in. I see it the moment that the wild side takes
over.

Walking slowly toward me, further loosening
his tie and pulling it from around his neck, Alec puts one knee on
the bed and reaches for my legs, jerking me roughly toward him.
Twisting one hand in my hair, he yanks my head back and crushes his
lips against mine, his tongue invading my mouth, demanding more of
me than I’ve ever before given.

I’m breathless when he releases me. His eyes
are steady on me as he reaches out to unwind the scarves from my
wrists and bring my hands together in front of me. With three quick
turns, he binds them together with his tie.

“Lie back,” he orders.

I pull my legs from beneath me and relax onto
my back. I’m surprised when Alec walks around the bed and unties
one of the black scarves. He kneels on the bed and drapes it over
my eyes.

“Lift.” Obediently, I lift my head so he can
make a knot in the material. My mouth is bone dry and my pulse is
flying like a runaway train. I can see shadows and shapes through
the thin scarf, but nothing clearly enough to make me feel
comfortable.

For the space of one breath, I feel I’ve made
a mistake. Now, I’m bound and blindfolded, basically at Alec’s
mercy. In a way that I’ve feared more than anything for half of my
life. And I did it willingly.

Because I trust him,
I remind myself.
And I love him.

I jump when I feel Alec’s fingers at my
stomach. It’s the lightest brush, like butterfly wings, as he grips
the zipper tongue and pulls it upward. There’s a soft click when it
reaches the end of its track. With a tug, Alec frees the two halves
of my top part, peeling them back to expose my breasts to him.

I hear the soft rustle of clothes as he
moves. I don’t know if he’s undressing or walking around the room.
Or both. The anticipation of what he might do, where he might touch
is sweet torture.

A few seconds later, I feel his hand cup my
right breast, kneading it, rolling and pinching the nipple. I feel
the heat of his mouth closing over it at the same time that I feel
the burn of hot wax hitting my navel.

I cry out and Alec bites down. Pleasure
shoots through me, landing between my legs like a wet clap of
thunder. I arch my back, straining for more of Alec’s mouth, but he
doesn’t give it. He pulls away.

For a few seconds, there’s nothing. No sound,
no touch, nothing but the tingle of my skin under the wax and the
cool air tickling my face. Until Alec’s lips close over my other
nipple. His mouth is cold and I gasp.

He teases me for a moment and then he’s gone
again. I feel nothing until I hear Alec’s hiss followed by the
blazing touch of his fingers. They’re covered in something
scorching hot and sticky as they tease and rub my nipple.

I cry out again, writhing on the bed, never
more in need of his touch at my core, never more in need of his
penetration.

More rustling sounds just before Alec scoots
me up the bed, toward the headboard. I hear the sound of a chain
moving before he takes my bound hands and hooks them onto something
that anchors them above my head.

I feel vulnerable. Exposed. I fight the urge
to draw my legs up, to cover myself, to protect myself.

“Very good,” Alec says, as if reading my mind
and commending my control.

I hear a buzzing sound and my stomach muscles
clench. The first contact of the vibrator is the tip against my
lips. Alec drags it over my mouth, back and forth. “Open,” he
commands. I part my lips and he slips the rounded head into my
mouth about an inch. “Lick it.”

I do, swirling my tongue around the smooth
latex. It doesn’t have much of a taste, not nearly as strong as the
rubber smell.

He slides it in a little further, gliding it
between my lips and over my tongue. Abruptly, he withdraws it and
the buzzing sound grows distant.

Every inch of my skin is alive with the
anticipation of where he might touch me next. And with what. When I
finally feel his palm against the inside of my thigh, warmth gushes
through me, pooling a few inches from his hand.

He pushes on my legs, moving them further
apart, spreading my body open for him. I gasp when I feel the tip
of the vibrator graze my clitoris. Alec circles it before sliding
down the crease of my lips then pushing it up into me. He moves the
vibrator around, rotating it just inside my entrance, then
retreating, teasing me mercilessly.

Then I feel his tongue. He licks lazily at my
clitoris, like he’s lapping up fine cream, all the while
penetrating me with the vibrator. Short strokes, in and out. He
begins moving his hand and his lips faster and faster, pushing me
further and further, until I’m grinding my hips against him. His
tongue becomes more insistent as he moves the vibrator deeper and
deeper, in and out.

The tension is building. I know what’s
coming. I know what’s on the other side. And I’m helpless,
literally helpless, to prevent it. I couldn’t escape if I
tried.

I strain against my bonds, my back arching
off the bed, my pelvis gyrating in time with Alec. And then his
mouth is gone and he’s turning me onto my stomach, the chains
moving easily with me as he urges me up onto my knees. I lean on my
elbows, panting as Alec continues to thrust the vibrator into
me.

I feel the hot sting of wax running over the
curve of one butt cheek. One rivulet runs down into the crease. The
other gathers into a pool on my lower back. I moan at the assault
against my sensitized skin, but it only makes the soft lick of
Alec’s tongue more pronounced.

I push back against his hand until it
disappears. I hear his zipper and I hold back tears of desperation,
never wanting to feel him inside me so badly before.

His hands brush my hips then my stomach as he
rolls me onto my back. I feel him stretch over me and release my
hands and then I feel the whisper of his breath as he hovers near
my face, removing the blindfold.

I blink to adjust to the dim light. Above me,
I see Alec’s handsome face, contorted in a way that closely mimics
pain.

“I want you like this,” he says, his lips
closing over mine as he pushes his body deep into mine.

I explode all around him. Wave after wave
rolls over me, stealing my breath, my voice and my vision.

I can only hear—Alec whispering softly in my
ear, telling me how perfect I am.

And I can feel—his lips on my chin, his teeth
at my nipple, his body spewing hot liquid into mine.

My limbs are numb and my skin is tingling as
I settle back down to earth. There’s only one thing on my mind as
thought returns.

“Why did you let me go?”

Several seconds pass before Alec lifts his
head and looks down at me. “You surrendered to me a long time ago.
I just didn’t realize it until tonight. Tonight was about you,
about you overcoming, about you giving me the most important thing
you could give me.”

“But I—”

Alec cuts me off with a finger to my lips.
“Shh,” he says softly, tilting his head and looking deeply into my
eyes. He watches me for a long time before he brushes my bangs out
of my eyes and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, like
he’s done so many times before. “All good,” he croaks, his lips
twisting into a small smile.

I smile up at him, my heart in my eyes. It’s
not a question this time, but a statement. “All good,” I
repeat.

And it is. For me anyway.

I’m unchained, both physically and
emotionally. But I get the feeling that Alec isn’t. He’s still
tethered to the past, to his guilt.

And I don’t know if I’m enough to set him
free.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT- Alec

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I turn
on my internal clinical lamp and examine the situation.

On the one hand, I’m satisfied. Maybe more
satisfied than I can ever remember being. But on the other hand
there’s…something. And
that
is what’s making me
restless.

Despite Samantha’s unconditional surrender to
me, there’s something that’s still haunting me. As is the problem
with most psychiatrists who try to heal themselves, I find that I’m
too close to the subject matter to be objective.

Based on past endeavors, I know that at this
point in our relationship, I should be feeling satiated, very smug
after Samantha’s submission. That is followed closely by a marked
decline in interest. It’s the natural order of things after I
achieve this…level with a woman. It rarely lasts past their
surrender, body and soul. It sounds shallow and cavalier and
monstrous, but it’s the truth.

But, largely, I feel neither, especially not
the disinterest. If anything, I want to further explore Samantha
and all her fascinating facets. Knowing I can make her feel things
she’s never felt, knowing that I can make her open to me like she’s
never opened up makes me feel gratified. And possessive. And
hungry.

She’s so much more than I ever expected. And
I feel
so much more than I ever expected.

That doesn’t, however, erase this…other thing
that niggles at me. This thing that still feels like guilt over
Alyssa.

I don’t know how to overcome it. And, after
all this time, I’m not sure I ever can.