CHAPTER FOUR
MY RITUAL
PAST
I checked my watch again, then took it off impatiently, tossing it into a drawer.
She was supposed to be here in fifteen minutes, but I'd been ready for her for hours. I was too preoccupied to work, instead putting my efforts into grueling workouts and dinner prep.
I began to pace.
I was antsy, distracted, and restless in a way that was foreign to me.
I'd dismissed my staff halfway through the day, needing total solitude in this strange mood of mine.
For the first time that I could remember, I wasn't sure how the evening was supposed to play out or the best way to handle things. This sort of meeting usually only went one way for me. It didn't start with dinner, and it didn't end with a sleepover.
I didn't know what she wanted from me, or what she expected, and that was the whole problem, because I wanted many things from her. Things she didn't seem remotely interested in.
It was safe to say I'd never run into this problem before.
Taking off my watch was no help, as I was checking the time again a scant two minutes later.
Where was she? Would she really cut it this close?
With a curse, I sought out a phone and called her.
"Hello," Bianca answered breathlessly.
It had me on instant alert, my entire body stiffening. "Where are you?" I heard myself asking, voice unwillingly harsh.
"I was just about to head out," she said, tone so strange that I found myself dissecting every word, looking for a clue to what it was about it that had my jaw clenching.
"I'll be there in about twenty minutes," she continued, "if I don't make any wrong turns."
"What's going on? You sound strange. And you're going to be late. This is one of many reasons why I wanted to send a driver."
"I'll be right there." Her voice broke on that sentence, and that's when I knew what I heard in her voice.
Desire. Need.
"What are you doing?" I purred, eyes closing in pleasure. If she was in this state now, I knew just how to control the situation, and the shift in power gave me instant relief. Reaching down, I pinched the tip of my erect cock hard. "Why do you sound so breathless?"
There was a long pause on the other end, but finally she answered, "Nothing."
A lie.
My jaw clenched, and I pinched myself harder. "Are you touching yourself?" I bit out.
"No," she lied again.
"Do you remember what I said I'd do to you if you lied to me?" I asked her, in equal parts turned on and infuriated by her defiance. "I believe that's three times now. Don't make yourself come. Your cunt is mine, and so is your pleasure. You're not allowed to come unless I say so."
She moaned, and I just about came in my hand.
"If you don't get into your car this second, I'm coming there, and then I won't let you come for hours," I barked, hanging up on her.
I went into the one of the property's control rooms, waiting impatiently for her vehicle, my mind filled with the ways I would own her in a few short minutes.
It was her first time, but I didn't want to take it slow or easy on her, didn't know if I was capable of it. Was she a true masochist? Would she find some enjoyment even in that sort of pain?
I was beyond impatient, yearning, longing to find out.
I opened the gate as soon as I finally saw a car approach, shrugging out of my shirt and heading to the entrance hall to watch for her.
I swung the front door wide as she reached the bottom of the small set of stairs that led up to the entrance, taking her in with gimlet-eyed satisfaction.
She paused there, and we stared at each other for a long time.
The lust in the air just then was so thick I felt like I could reach out and touch it with my hand. Could stick out my tongue and taste it. It was heady, drugging.
All-consuming.
She wore a sheer black dress with flowers painted across it. It was flimsy, revealing her figure even in the near dark.
Even delivered to my doorstep, clearly dressed for sex, she looked cool and untouchable.
I would make her touchable. I knew it and she knew it, and it drove me wild.
"Get in here," I told her, wondering how I was even going to last from here to the bedroom.
She obeyed without a word, her expression stoic.
I was taking up most of the open doorway, which forced her to brush very close to me.
I sucked in a breath.
Just how out of line would it be to take her virginity on the floor of my entryway? How uncouth and unforgivable? I wondered. Because it was about a second away from happening.
"I had dinner ready, but that's going to have to wait," I informed her, my tone clipped, patience shot. "You're a little minx, you know that?"
She shook her head, looking nonchalant as she glanced around.
Her silence made my jaw clench. I didn't know what to do with it.
"I gave my entire staff the night off, so we're quite alone," I explained to her, to reassure her of our privacy in the event that I did, in fact, take her where she stood.
I held onto my control by the thinnest thread. I'd had my fingers inside of her, had felt the barrier of her hymen, and been obsessed with it ever since. I'd had time to dwell on just why it consumed my thoughts and came to the conclusion that it was the ownership it gave me. It was mine to take, to claim, to break, and in the breaking, I'd own a part of her that no one else had ever touched.
She ignored me as though I hadn't spoken, moving to run her hand along the heavy rail of the stairway that ran to the second floor.
I couldn't take it. I moved behind her, a breath away from touching her, a heartbeat away from losing it.
"Where's your bedroom?" she asked, her tone damn near casual.
A deep, primitive hunger rocked through my body. I shuddered in pleasure, my hand gripping her nape. I squeezed, then began to rub.
She leaned into the contact.
I grabbed her hair, making it into a handle at her nape, and began to lead her upstairs.
If she was going to refrain from all artifice, all teasing, I could restrain myself for at least the time I took to get near my bed.
I led her like that to my bedroom, stopping just inside of the door to let her take it in.
I'd arranged things just how I liked them, not pulling any punches. I wanted no misunderstanding here.
Restraints hung from the latticed top of the bed, others strewn at the posters. It was spelled out in barbaric letters all over the room. This was where I would take her body, claim ownership of it.
"Are those ropes?" she finally asked breathlessly.
"Yes," I answered, watching her.
"Is that a riding crop?"
If I'd been capable of idle chat, I'd have asked her then if she liked riding, if she knew how, but I was not. My vision had gone into tunnel vision just then, with only one thing on my mind.
"Yes," I said, moving to nudge her forward with my hand in her hair until she was only steps from the bed. "I have more toys that I want to use on you, but I didn't want to intimidate you by laying them all out."
She laughed, and it was a touch hysterical.
That only made my heart pound harder. "You need to pick a safe word," I told her.
I watched her heavy breasts move as she took a deep breath. "I assume you know I've never done any of this before?" It was a question.
That got to me, because I did know it. It had become the single biggest obsession of my life these past days.
"Yes," I breathed, voice thick and intense.
She paused before finally answering, "Sotnos."
"Sotnos?" I questioned, rolling the word around in my mouth, like she had.
"Yes," she said shortly. Nothing else.
Infuriating woman.
I pulled on her hair hard, tilting her head back and to the side until she looked at me. "There are rules here," I explained harshly. "I become your Master in here, and I will punish you when you defy me. I will read your reactions, and try not to go too far, but if I do, or if there's something you just can't handle, that's the word you use."
She didn't seem the least intimidated, in fact her chin had lifted defiantly at my words. "What about outside of here? Didn't you say you would punish me for lying to you? But we weren't in here when I lied to you."
I smiled. I enjoyed her spirit. "There are exceptions. I will never lie to you, and I expect you to learn to do the same. Tell me what your safe word means."
She shook her head, jaw set stubbornly. "No."
I drew in a steadying breath. "Would you rather take more lashes than just tell me what that means?"
She didn't hesitate to nod. "Yes." She sounded confident.
I studied her. "How about an exchange?" I cajoled. "Is there something I could give you in exchange for that information? Something you want to know about me? Something you want in general?"
Again, she didn't hesitate, shaking that stubborn head of hers.
I gripped her hair harder. "You're driving me crazy," I told her softly, maneuvering her towards the bed. "We need to talk. We need to figure out this arrangement. But I can't wait any more for this. Nothing has ever made me feel this wild before. I need to mark you. I need to own you. I need to punish you. I need to open you up and strip every detail out of you. And I will get you to tell me what that word means to you."
There was a pregnant pause, where she neither agreed nor protested.
"Lift your arms," I told her when I'd moved her very close to the bed.
She did, and I peeled her dress off her swiftly, sucking in a breath at the sight that greeted me.
I was feverish with want. I needed everything at once. To touch her, to taste her mouth. To take out my cock, make her suck it, climb inside of her bare.
I restrained myself. Barely.
Instead, I circled, eyes devouring every sweet inch of her. She wore nothing but a bra and thong now, her big breasts heavy and swelling out of the thin material of her joke of a bra, the coral tips pebbled into tight, hard peaks. Best rack I'd seen in my life, bar none.
I bent down swiftly and bit her through her bra. Hard.
She made a delicious little noise, and I straightened, continuing to circle her.
I snapped her tiny little thong as I passed her hip. She was shapelier than I'd realized, her torso more hourglass than straight, rounding into soft hips that were just perfect for gripping.
"You are too much," I told her as I studied her shapely little ass. "A virgin with the sexiest body I've ever seen in my life. Too fucking perfect."
I knelt behind her, leaned forward and bit one pert cheek hard.
She sobbed in a breath and glanced back at me.
I kissed the mark I'd left there, looking up to meet her eyes.
She turned to face forward again, her breathing agitated.
I fingered the tiny scrap of material at her hip. "I want to cut all of your clothes off, but I love everything I see you wear, and I have no idea where you got any of it, so I don't know how to replace it."
"The thongs are from Victoria's Secret. So is the bra."
I smiled at her approvingly, then slapped her ass.
"Don't move," I ordered, moving to grab a knife.
The look on her face made me laugh. "It's just for cutting clothes. I would never cut your skin. The thought is abhorrent to me. I just want to blister it a little."
I moved to her, grabbing the front of her bra, pulling it out, and cutting it cleanly in one motion, taking the cups apart.
I watched her nipples tighten, pinching them several times, each time harder than the next. "How sensitive are they? Did you like the first touch better, or the last?" I pinched harder, until she moaned, and had to stifle my own moan. "Or the fourth time?"
She swallowed hard but answered quickly. "The fourth."
"Good. I have something for you." I went back to the nightstand drawer, put the knife away, and grabbed a pair of nipple clamps I'd picked out earlier.
The clamps were peach colored, with a silver chain connected between them. I wrapped the chain around the back of her neck, fastening it there.
She took it well when I pinched them onto each hard peak.
"Nipple clamps," I explained. "Are they too tight?"
She shook her head, studying them.
They looked perfect on her. In fact, I couldn't decide if I even wanted to pierce her, they looked so right.
Next, I cut off her thong, watching her face to gauge her reaction.
"Climb on the bed," I ordered, voice gone hoarse.
She obeyed.
"Climb over to that ramp until your knees are touching it. Yes, right there."
I climbed up behind her, pushing her face down onto the ramp I'd arranged in the middle of the bed, which pushed her ass up just where I wanted it.
Her cheek was touching the riding crop, and she was trembling. It was almost too much.
"This isn't your knee," she told me.
That surprised a laugh out of me. "It is not. My lap isn't a safe place for you at the moment. We'll get to that, though, I promise."
I slipped a rope over her ankle, then drew it taut.
"The more you struggle, the more these will chafe. Keep that in mind." I secured her other ankle, then moved to her wrists, binding her quickly.
I moved behind her again, leaning over her until I was flush against her back, my erection digging into her ass.
She wiggled, and I swatted one cheek lightly.
"Hold still," I ordered and slid the crop out from under her cheek.
I moved off her.
She moaned in protest, and I lightly spanked her again.
My heart tried to beat its way out of my chest as I just studied her for a long time, almost nervous to start.
She looked so beautiful like that. So perfect, tied up, bound for my use.
This was my poetry, my art, her body my canvas.
I felt giddy for what was to come.
"Do you have anything to say before I begin?" I asked her.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Cavendish," she said, arching her back.
I hummed, deep in my throat, and let the crop fly.
I started lightly, only hitting harder when I saw her reaction.
She moaned and wriggled, and I could see how wet this was making her.
I made myself stop, panting at the effort. I didn't want to overdo it, when I was still so unsure of her limits.
She arched and muttered a protest, rubbing her chest against the ramp.
I felt dizzy. I held my hand out in front of me, and it was shaking.
I'd never jumped into something so fast or carelessly before. My instincts told me she wasn't a liar, but instincts could be wrong, and for all I knew, she wasn't even on the pill.
I'd been scrupulous about protection from the time I'd become sexually active. Getting some random woman pregnant simply wasn't an option for me, as plenty of fortune hunters would have loved nothing more than to take advantage of a careless moment.
None of this had slipped my mind. It wasn't a matter of oversight. Not at all.
It was a change of heart.
My MO was evolving rapidly into something even I didn't recognize or completely understand. But I did understand something. I'd be coming inside of her bare. The thought of getting her pregnant wasn't even that alarming to me. In fact, if I was honest with myself, the idea of tying her to me in such a way was more than a little appealing.
I glanced down at my heavy erection. It was swollen to the point of painful, turning red, thick veins apparent along my shaft. I twitched, pre-cum dribbling out from my tip.
I'd never been so aroused in my life.
"I need to stop there," I told her gruffly. "I don't want you too sore to lie on your back when I take you."
More of that silence from her that I had no notion what to do with.
My attention caught on her creamy white flesh. "Fuck. I can see the liquid running down your legs." I fingered the trail of moisture on her thigh.
"We need to do a few things before I fuck you. I have a health exam on the table over there. I've been tested. All the results are clean. Do you want to see it? It's available for you. I want to bury my cock in you bare, if you'll allow. You said you're on the pill, right?"
She nodded. "I am. I'll take your word for it. If I thought you'd lie about something like that, I wouldn't be letting you tie me up and pound the V-card out of me, now would I?"
I laughed and bent to kiss her cheek.
I pushed the ramp out from under her, letting her fall to the bed.
I freed her ankles. I gripped them, pushing her up higher on the bed. I flipped her over with just that contact, surprising the breath out of her.
This twisted her arms above her head and allowed me to spread her legs wide. I tied them like that, devouring the sight.
She was so lusciously blonde. Everywhere. She was breathtaking, her ripe body with all of its perfect alabaster skin, trembling before me.
Mine.
I claimed her with my mouth first, beginning with a chaste kiss to her lips that was nothing so much as an assertion of my will, then moving south to stake my claim on every inch of her untouched skin.
Next, I took her body with mine. I did it with ruthless skill, and the closest I'd ever come to wild abandon. I broke through her barrier and became frenzied to the point of madness.
I heard my own low, guttural moans as I took her. I'd never been loud, had always controlled my noises, but now, now, I just couldn't hold things like that back.
I never took my gaze off hers. Those pale eyes of hers both devoured me and fed me.
They swallowed me whole and kept me intact.
I felt her around me, felt her tender flesh clench, and I went insane.
I cursed silently, groaned aloud, tensed, then started heaving like a madman, hurting her I was sure, because she wasn't accustomed to an invasion like this.
And thinking of that had me losing my mind even more.
She was sobbing out her pleasure at the end, begging for release.
I kept going, rutting in her uncontrollably, driven like a fiend.
Finally, when I reached my limit, I took her to the edge. I started rubbing her clit relentlessly as I pounded in and out. "Come, Bianca," I commanded, my eyes eating up every detail of her passion-slackened face.
Incredibly, she obeyed. Like she was an instrument already tuned to my touch. Like she was made for me.
Because she was.
Mine.
Irreversibly. Irrevocably.
I jarred into her hard with one last brutal thrust and emptied my seed deep inside of her.
I couldn't stop kissing her as I came down from that giddy high. Her lips were lush, but that wasn't why I couldn't stop obsessing about them. It was their softness, their malleable, pulpy, trembling silkiness that had me craving, needing more.
Afterward I drew a bath, my mind reeling, racing, reconfiguring my life as I knew it.
I moved back to the bed when the bath was ready, studying her limp, sated form with vivid pleasure.
I tried to place what I was feeling. It was beyond satisfaction. More like something akin to fierce pride. She couldn't know it yet, but this beautiful creature had sealed her fate in that bed.
I wasn't letting her go. She was skittish, but I wouldn't let that daunt me.
It wasn't a question of if anymore, not after that. I'd be keeping her. Now it was just a question of how.
I carried her to the bath and washed her clean with my dirty hands.
In spite of my thoughts, my desires, I could tell I said something wrong when she tried to leave before dinner and only barely cajoled her into staying for a meal.
I lost all of my usual finesse with this woman; the charm I counted on seemed to have no effect.
She was close-lipped and distant, but I managed to wrestle small bits of information out of her.
She didn't trust me, or expect much from me, but I meant to change that.
I had her again, taking her on the table with dessert.
I shouldn't have. I knew it. I'd used her roughly her first time, but she swore she wasn't too sore, and I didn't have the self-control to keep from slaking my thirst with her luscious body a second time.
I kissed the rope marks on her wrists. "I love seeing this on you," I spoke against her skin, voice thick with something far stronger than mere desire.
I pushed her back flat against the surface of the table, spreading her legs wide.
I moved between her legs, my cock a whisper from her entrance.
"Look at me," I commanded. When her eyes met mine, I continued, "Watch me. I'll punish you every time you look away from me when I'm inside of you."
She nodded, lips trembling, pale eyes steady and relentless, claiming pieces of my soul with but a look.
"Ask me for it," I ordered, stroking myself.
"Please, Mr. Cavendish, fuck me."
I obliged, pushing into her roughly.
I couldn't contain a deep groan as I began to thrust in earnest.
"Does it hurt?" I asked without slowing.
"It's perfect," she moaned.
Even after we'd finished, I stayed inside of her, carrying her up to my room while I bounced her on my insatiable cock.
"Let me know if you reach your limit," I told her roughly when I'd carried her back to my room. I still held her, still buried deep. "You should be sore and tender after your first time. I should be considerate and let your body recover."
"Please, don't."
That nearly undid me, combined with her needy tone.
"You want me to finish you like this, standing up and impaled on my cock?" I asked, anchoring her to me as I worked her up and down my stiff length.
"Y-yes please. Oh, yes."
She was on the edge, and I was right there with her when I clipped, "Come, Bianca."
She fell apart, and I fell with her.
I stayed up all night.
I'd worn her out, and she slept like a baby. I'd worn myself out, and somehow it wasn't enough. I wanted, needed more.
I left the bathroom light on, door open, and left the room illuminated enough to watch her, touch her, and stare at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I was going to do.
This, this was what my agnostic mind pictured the spiritual mind feeling when it attended confession. A leaking out of all that was bad and a flowing back in, a joyful inhalation, of the most substantial life-sustaining nourishment.
So much of this ritual had become a habit; one that I knew was designed in part to avoid intimacy. If our bodies were temples, the things I did to my subs were meant as sacrilege.
This was not that.
This was beyond the ritual, beyond the habit. I had wallowed in her, basking, reveling, and in my revelry, I had slaked beyond my physical thirst and delved into another need entirely.
This was different.
This was intimacy. This was sacred.
I couldn't get enough. I couldn't stop, even when I knew it should be enough, that I was overusing her unused body.
Somehow, I knew, just knew, deep in my gut, where certainties held the most sway, that I would never have enough of her.
I was lost. I was found.
I, James Cavendish, unrepentant dominant, sexual deviant, and prolific slut for more years than I cared to count, was in love.
I'd taken her virgin body, but just as surely, she'd taken my virgin heart.