The Velvet Caress: On the edge of life and death (Velvet Lies Book 2) by C. P. Mandara (4)

'Not as well as I'd hoped.' The answer might have been a little clipped, but it was honest.

'Ah. He's not managed to pull off a deal then?'

If I wasn't much mistaken, Mr Big looked almost gleeful at the prospect of my joining him in purgatory. I didn't like his facial expression one little bit, although I was careful to keep my face neutral. There was only so much he was going to get out of me, and that was pretty much limited to bed and board. He could eat my food and steal my mattress, but if he laid a hand on me there was going to be trouble.

When the look continued I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was living on borrowed time. I figured I needed to keep him occupied somehow, at least until I could figure a way out of here, so I wracked my brains for something that would keep him talking for a while. Anything would do, but it needed to be a subject he knew plenty about.

'So I'm guessing this isn't your first time in the joint?' I asked. My prison slang was pretty poor, but I'd heard another suspect rattle on about it earlier, so I figured I'd beef up my street cred.

'Nah. I've already done five years for aggravated assault.'

'The missus?' Call me curious, but I needed to know.

'You're 'avin a laugh. The missus enjoys that kind of thing. It was me son's teacher. He'd given him a clip round the head and I don't like that kinda thing.'

Of course you don't, I thought dryly. Much better to get out a baseball bat and whack the living daylights out of the poor teacher who had the unfortunate fate of being stuck with your son. Having no wish to know what he'd done to the poor soul, I quickly changed the subject again.

'So, this will be my first time behind bars. Any tips for surviving on the inside?'

Mr Big looked me up and down and grinned. 'You sure you wanna hear this?'

I let out a long breath while I considered my question. It looked like he was going to enjoy this, and that wasn't a good sign, but what the hell. 'Go on then, give it to me straight.'

'Well, a pretty boy like you is going to be very popular.' He leered at me, but I made no notion of having noticed. 'And I don't mean popular in a sociable way, mate.' I'd already figured that out for myself, but I nodded my understanding. 'If I were you I'd get myself a big strong cellmate who could bash all the nasties away.'

It didn't take a genius to see where this was going. If Mr Big wasn't looking at me I'd have rolled my eyes, but as I preferred them located in the front of my head I resisted the urge.

'Someone like you, for instance?' Throwing the question out there was a bad idea, but I was full of them these days.

'Absolutely. You'd be safe as houses if I'd got your back.'

So, if I was reading between the lines, it went something like this: if you wanted to stay safe in prison you needed to get used to being sexually molested. I'd rather go down the broken ribs and black eye route, but he'd find that out soon enough. Keeping him sweet for the time being I said, 'So, let's say I'm your mate. What's your advice for staying out of trouble?'

The smile on his face was almost as big as his bloody hands. There was no way I was ever being this guy's cellmate. I'd rather spend twenty-five years in solitary confinement.

'Well, first of all you need to be patient. Nothing ever happens very quickly in prison. Staff aren't in any hurry to help inmates and you can expect to wait a very long time for just about everything.'

Great. Patience wasn't one of my strong points. I could barely wait for the rest of these little hints and tips.

'And you gotta be a little careful with your words. Come across as an asshole with attitude, chances are someone's going to adjust it for you. Unless you're built like me, that is. Then you can get away with being a dick.'

Good to know. This guy wasn't selling life in prison to me so far. I wondered what delights were coming up next.

'So, when you first get in the slammer, good idea to listen as much as you can. Sure you'll get a list of rules from the wardens, but it's the unwritten rules that are important. For starters, never grass up a fellow inmate. You do that, your life ain't going to be worth living.'

Christ, how old was I? Five. I think I could have figured that one out all by myself. It was no wonder this idiot was in jail.

'You also need to choose your friends carefully. Get to know the right people and you'll feel like you're doing a spell in the Hilton. Pick the wrong 'uns and you'll either get hurt, lots of solitary, or a few extra years added to your time.

I think he might have been slightly exaggerating with the Hilton remark, unless they'd really dropped their standards lately. Still, I was learning. I was listening intently and I'd already decided I wasn't going to interrupt.

'Probably best not to get involved with gambling, either. People have been killed over gambling debts inside. If you can't pay, don't play.'

That was probably the first piece of sensible advice he'd given me, if I hadn't been a millionaire several times over. Actually, it was probably still sensible, as I suspected it wouldn't take Jen long to spend all of my money if left up to her own devices. Women were good like that. I nodded again, to keep him talking.

'Don't accept anything from no one. When you first get inside people are going to lend you things. Cigarettes, drugs, you name it someone will have it. Trouble is that they'll expect two in return. If you can't deliver you're gonna get hurt in a real bad way.'

Thankfully I didn't do drugs or smoke anything but Cuban cigars, and they were for special occasions only. As I didn't see many special occasions coming up in prison I'd probably be good for a few years.

'Don't stare at no one either. Stare at someone too long and you're gonna get a kicking.'

Mr Big scratched his stubbly jaw and nodded at me with a frown. I couldn't help but wonder if he was the jealous type.

'You could do with working out a bit too. Makes you less of a target. Spend some time in the gym and bulk up. You'd look mighty fine with an eight pack, I think.'

Mr Big's eyes lit up at the thought and he stared at me intently, breaking one of his cardinal rules. There was a good chance, I thought, that I might actually go down for murder in the first degree rather than just attempted murder, by the time my spell with him was over.

'Good idea not to get involved with a gang, either. Once you get in you ain't never getting out.' Mr Big yawned. 'Hey, you heard enough yet, pretty boy?' He put his hands under his head and laid out flat upon the mattress. It looked like he was getting comfy and that had to be a good thing.

'Not nearly,' I lied. 'But is there much else left?' I thought it was a fair question. We seemed to have covered quite a bit in the last few minutes. If I could just keep him talking for a few more minutes the bastard might actually fall asleep on me, with any luck.

'Well we're just down to nit-picking now,' he said, yawning. 'Stuff like ordering dental floss picks; you can't bring the regular stuff in because people will try to take your head off with it. If you forget to order those picks the jailhouse dentist just loves pulling your teeth out, take it from me. I lost a couple on my last spell inside.'

Urgh. That was enough to put you off sugar for life, but I can't say I was saddened that prisons were trying to stop us from being garrotted.

'Finally, try to avoid getting your face smashed in. Do as you're told, no matter what they tell you. Don't touch anyone else's stuff. If your cellmates are cheating, lyin' or hogging the bathroom, you let 'em. Sit wherever the fuck you're told and don't raise your voice. There. I think that's about it.'

He stopped just when I was starting to enjoy myself. Seriously, though, I wasn't sure whether I was now feeling suicidal or murderous, or both.

'Oh wait. Good idea to choose your friends carefully, and your enemies even more carefully. Last thing - if you're going into the showers with ten or twenty other inmates, wear your boxers. That's especially important if you look like you do, and I get very jealous, darling.' The word 'darling' was slurred and his eyes were at half-mast. Mr Big had obviously had a tough day.

'Sounds like pretty good advice to me.' My voice was gentle and slow. All I wanted him to do now was shut up and go to sleep. I needed to think and I couldn't do that with his voice droning away in my ear.

'You have no idea.' That was the last thing he said to me for some time.

 

Sleep inside a jail cell was even more elusive than it usually was, and for an insomniac such as myself that was saying something. Lying down on my stomach on a cold, hard, unforgiving concrete floor was not an experience I ever wanted to repeat. Although we had been given a couple of thin orange blankets, Mr Big had already got his mitts on those, so I was either going to have to cuddle up with him or suffer in silence. It wasn't a hard choice.

As I lay there, aching in nearly every bone in my body, I began to wonder whether it might have been a good idea to have antagonized Mr Big after all. He might have done me a favour and knocked me out. All I was doing now was going over and over the events of the last few days. It had been quite an epic rollercoaster. At least I knew Jen was okay. That might have been the only reason I was holding it together. I'd prayed, and my prayers had been answered. If twenty years in prison was going to be my punishment, then I'd take it. Up until now I'd lived my life in excess, in just about everything possible, and now it looked like the tables were turning. Then again, maybe I was being overly pessimistic. I hadn't been tried and convicted yet, and Khalil and Jonathon would stop at nothing to try and clear my name. It was too soon to abandon all hope, and I just needed to keep myself in a positive frame of mind.

This was easier said than done when you'd been awake for the better part of twenty-three hours or so. It looked like it was going to be a long night.

 

Morning dawned blue, bright and sunny, according to the tiny rectangle above me. It should have been a portent for a fantastic day, but I wasn't prepared to stake any money on that kind of outcome. Just lately lady luck had not been on my side. Dragging myself up from the concrete floor my back protested in earnest. I ignored it. My thoughts were solely centred on how to keep Mr Big occupied for the rest of the day, and I was coming up blank.

When the two breakfast trays sailed our way Mr Big was still asleep, so I managed to grab a slice of toast and cup of coffee for myself. If you ever need to lose any weight, I recommend prison. It has several ways of putting you off your food, including the appearance of the food itself. Whilst I knew they weren't exactly encouraging people to stay here, and for good reason, it still looked pretty grim. Deciding then and there that if I did somehow manage to get off this charge I would never put a foot wrong for the rest of my life, I scraped the eggs around in my tray for a bit. With a bit of salt and pepper they were almost edible. Leaving the rest of the glop for Big, I paced for a bit to try and loosen my legs up. My back did not feel good. Judging by the pain that hit me every time I moved I suspected I'd gotten an infection. At some point I would probably need medical attention, and I had a feeling the kind of attention I would receive in here was not going to be a fun experience. There was no one to blame but myself, and I'd do it all again if it meant bringing Jennifer back from the brink of death. Now I'd just have to deal with the consequences, and I could live with a bit of pain. I hoped.

By the time Mr Big woke up his breakfast, and what was left of mine, was thoroughly cold. In fact the eggs had congealed into something hard and nasty. As he slowly got up off the thin mattress he looked at both trays and then slowly advanced towards me. By the look on his face I figured he was quite upset about something. Maintaining my stance and refusing to back off only made him angrier.

'Oh, so we're Billy Big Balls now, are we?' He began flexing his knuckles in front of me and I couldn't help but think about all that money I'd wasted on private health insurance. None of that was going to help me in here, was it?

'What's up?' I looked at him genially, hoping to diffuse the tension. It was the wrong move. I saw his fist coming a split second before it smashed into my face. Then he grabbed me by the shirt collar and lifted me a foot up off the floor. Breathing became rather difficult as I waited for him to explain what I'd done wrong. As far as I could see I'd been an angel so far. I'd let him lie in, I'd left him some breakfast and I'd given him sole use of the bed. What more did the bastard want? He was about to tell me.

'Your breakfast is my breakfast. That means I eat first, punk. When the chow comes you wake me and wait for me to finish. Is that clear?' Spittle flew into my face as he spat out his sentence, and all I could do was nod in response. As he'd already cut off my air supply trying to do anything else was near impossible. Unfortunately a nod didn't seem to be enough for him. My face got redder and redder as he left me hanging there, and at a guess he was probably debating what to do with me. I had a sinking feeling I wasn't going to like what happened next.

'Maybe I don't want you as my cellmate after all. Maybe you need to learn some fucking manners.' He eyeballed me for a very long time, especially considering I still couldn't breathe. 'Now, what should I do to teach you a lesson?' As the man was well aware I couldn't talk, I just hung around waiting for him to decide. It didn't take him long.

First he put me back on the floor, and then he spun me around so my back was towards him. Sucking in a huge lungful of air I wheezed for a few seconds as I tried to even up the oxygen and carbon dioxide balance currently circulating through my blood. Meanwhile I felt the zipper of my jumpsuit being slid down and Mr Big's hands slowly sliding inside the elasticated waistband of my trousers. I immediately saw red. It took two more breaths before I felt capable of moving, and in that time he was trying his best to get my trousers down around my ankles, while his hand began searching around for my cock. Not fucking likely. Adrenaline flowed everywhere at once, and if I'm honest given half a chance I probably would have killed the bastard. Fortunately for me, or should I say unfortunately, he was a solid wall of muscle and even when my fist connected with his chin he barely flinched, my retaliation just angering him more. His face was a great big mottled red thing, pulsing with fury. For a minute I thought he might explode, but then he managed to direct his anger - at me. Pulling some kind of implement from within his jumpsuit he thrust it towards me and I lunged out of its way. At first glance it appeared to be some kind of makeshift knife, but I didn't get a good enough look at it to decide how dangerous it was. The second lunge proved a little more insightful. It came within a whisker of taking my left eye out. At close range I could see it was a spoon that had been sharpened into a vicious point, with some kind of wooden base taped to it. Mr Big liked his DIY by the looks of it. The bastard stood a reasonably good chance at killing me if no one decided to intervene. Circling around the room, with nowhere to go, I began yelling at the top of my lungs, hoping against hope to attract someone's attention. Not for one minute did I think the prison guards were going to come running immediately, but I hoped that if I made enough noise to annoy them they might investigate.

'Help! He's trying to kill me. Someone help!'

Mr Big thought this was highly amusing. Bringing up one of his thick legs he slammed his sneaker-covered foot into me and flung me against the back wall. I screamed myself silly as I flew through the air, knowing exactly what was coming and what the likely outcome would be. Praying that when I woke up I wouldn't be carved into one hundred pieces, I felt my back slam into the concrete wall. Indescribable pain burned through me as my back smashed itself open, and then I felt black spots immediately dance around in my head. In a matter of seconds I was going to pass out. If Mr Big was into necrophilia, now was his chance.

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Jennifer

My blood pressure was going through the roof. The doctors had threatened to sedate me if I didn't calm myself down, but that wasn't easy after I'd found out my father was trying to destroy my husband. Now the poisoning tactic had failed I guess he was going to settle for the next best thing, and let's face it, it was still getting rid of him. Yes he might surface after a few years or so, but it would be long enough for my father to get what he wanted, whatever that was.

I kept going over the conversation I'd had with the officers and tried to see if there was anything I could salvage from it. Are you sure you don't want to change your story? Those words kept going over and over in my head. I swear they were going to haunt me, because every time I repeated them I saw the disbelieving looks on the officers' faces. They probably thought I'd gone mad, and I have to confess it was a close run thing for a while.

His apartment was searched and some incriminating evidence was found. Those were the words the elderly officer had said to me just before they asked me if I was sure I didn't want to tell them the truth. His apartment. We hadn't been to his apartment in months. We'd been staying at his estate in Hertfordshire. There was no way in the world someone could refer to a large mansion as an apartment, surely? Had the poison been planted in his London apartment? There was a good possibility that it had. Daddy dearest probably thought Mark would take me straight back to London, and hadn't thought we'd be taking a 'honeymoon', if anything we'd done there could be called that. He'd have assumed Mark would go straight back to work. Perhaps this was the missing link I'd been looking for. Rifling through my bedside drawer for Mark's cell I quickly called Khalil. It was picked up after a single ring.

'My father planted poison in Mark's apartment,' I said in one sentence without pause. Thankfully Khalil understood me.

'I know.' Of course he knew. Mark would have called him, or Mark's lawyer would have told him.

'You're not listening,' I said, this time remembering that pauses are important. 'He planted poison in Mark's apartment. Not the country estate in Hertfordshire where we've been staying, but his London apartment. Mark hasn't been anywhere near it. He has some ironclad alibis, too. Both the CCTV footage he has wired throughout the house, me, the personal trainer he hired and several other girls who came over for a… spa evening.' That wasn't exactly the truth, but I'm pretty sure Khalil didn't want to hear exactly what we'd been up to. Neither would the courts for that matter. Oh my God. If this went to court my face, Mark's face, all the details of our sex life… they would all be splattered across the front page in one of the juiciest scandals of the twenty-first century. I would never be able to step out in public ever again. To be fair, as long as I was with Mark that might not necessarily be a bad thing. Even if my father splashed around the footage he had of Mark strung up and at his mercy, and it wouldn't be the brightest move he'd ever made, I suspected we'd get through it. News was only news for a month or so, tops. As soon as something more exciting came along we'd be forgotten. I then remembered there was someone else on the other side of the phone and that they hadn't spoke for quite a while.

'Khalil?'

There was some scratching and shuffling and suddenly his voice was back on the line.

'My apologies, Jen. I'm trying to get a message across to Jonathon so he can act accordingly, and I'm also trying to get the Metropolitan Police on the other line. Can I call you back?'

'Yes, no problem. Call me as soon as you know anything?' There may have been a pleading note in my voice but I didn't care. I needed Mark by my side. He'd get me out of here and back home in no time, which would hopefully stop all the incessant prodding and pulling about that the doctors were performing on a regular basis.

'Will do.' With that the line went dead and I was left to my own devices again. Oh joy. Sighing heavily, I wondered how Mark was faring in prison. Every time I thought about him behind bars my pulse accelerated, though I knew it was ridiculous. He'd be in a holding cell, bored out of his mind whilst pacing up and down. It wouldn't do him any harm to reflect upon his transgressions for a day or so, and he'd made plenty of them in the past, that was for sure. I couldn't help a smile. That night at Escape had been really something, excluding the being poisoned part and vomiting up copious amounts of stomach acid.

Interestingly enough, the nipple chain and piercings I'd been wearing when I left Escape had disappeared. I wondered if this was some weird and wonderful hospital policy. Too embarrassed to ask, I'd used some of my cash to try and Google the reason. It didn't take long to find the answer. The skin burns on my chest had already indicated that I'd needed a defibrillator to remain alive, and there could be no metal upon my body when they were placing an electrical current through me. To be honest, I reckoned that would have been reasonably tame considering what I'd been through at Escape, but all the same, I'm glad they took suitable precautions.

Silly as it may seem, I missed the chain and piercings. Mark had the most amazing way of making me feel 'owned' and giving up all control to him had never been a problem. Whilst the days spent at Fountaine Bleu had been stressful, they'd also been charged with the most amazing sexual chemistry I'd ever known. It was something I'd never experienced with anyone else, ever. There was a chance we could make this relationship work if we just tried to be honest with each other. How hard could that be? All we needed to do was talk. The trouble was, all we seemed to do was fuck, and whilst I didn't have a problem with that exactly, it didn't make a great basis for getting married. Marriage was all about compromise, or that's what I'd been told. I laughed to myself.

Who would be doing all the compromising? Me of course, if somehow we managed to stay together, but I didn't think I'd mind all that much. He'd said he loved me. I distinctly remember him saying the 'L' word not once, but twice. That had to mean something. It at least meant he wanted to try and make a go of our arrangement, or I thought it did, but nothing was certain with Mark. This was why I needed to talk to him.

Interrupted from my worries by a lady who was walking towards me with a very determined look on her face, I realized she looked vaguely familiar. This was mainly because I looked exactly like her, but I also had a hazy recollection that she'd been beside my hospital bed a few days ago. Great. This was just the kind of excitement I needed right now.

She sat down beside me, running a hand through her jet-black hair and smoothing it down towards her shoulders. She then adjusted her black alligator skin Dior handbag, so it rested smartly on her knees. I couldn't help but wonder if she had a gun in there, and whether she was keeping it handy just in case.

'Hello. Do I know you?' I knew exactly who she was, but it was going to amuse me to see what story she'd come up with.

She held out her hand and waited to shake mine. I did so, noting that her hands were just as delicate as mine.

'I'm here to assess you. I just want to ask you a few questions about the poisoning incident, see how you're handling things and whether we can offer any help.' As if to reinforce this message she pulled a notebook out of her bag. I had to give it to the lady, she came well prepared.

'Hi Mum. You can put the notebook away now.' I gave her a dark stare. By all rights I should tell her to get the hell out, but if what I'd heard before was correct it might be prudent to make sure she wasn't still trying to kill my husband.

'Sorry?' She looked around me, as if expecting to see someone else and smiled politely. It was a good ploy, but it wasn't going to work. I was not mad.

'Nice try, Mum, but you're the spitting image of me and I woke up for a couple of seconds when you came to see me a few days ago. Please tell me you haven't killed my husband.' As far as introductory sentences went it was harsh, but she'd abandoned me, so I felt no need to tiptoe around the woman.

She took a deep breath as if wondering whether to try and continue with her charade, but obviously thought better of it. 'Don't worry about him,' she said. 'I've well and truly taken care of that.'

I didn't like the sound of that at all. The feeling of dread that had been with me all morning intensified considerably.

'Please tell me you haven't done anything stupid, Mum. I love my husband. He wasn't the one that tried to kill me. Michael is the one you should be looking for.'

She looked at me oddly with sparkling, sky-blue eyes that were so similar to mine it was almost uncanny.

'Well, I'd have thought you would be pleased I'd taken care of this mess for you. I know you didn't enter this marriage willingly. What did Mark do to get you to agree to it?' She frowned at me.

'Not Mark. Michael. He tortured Mark until he agreed to marry me and filmed the whole thing. Mark didn't have a choice. As for me, well I've never had a choice. The threat of being shipped off to Albrecht again was enough to make sure I did everything I was told.'

My mother's jaw hung open. It seemed she really had been out of the loop.

'Are you telling me you've been to Albrecht Stables?' Her jaw still hadn't closed.

'Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you and involuntarily, I might add. He got me there under false pretences, and once you go through those closed doors there is no going back.' I gave her another dark look.

'Wait a minute. Do you mean to tell me he had you trained up as a ponygirl?' The jaw had closed now, and her look had gone from shocked to horrified.

'That's exactly what I'm telling you. Mark tried to rescue me. He offered Michael virtually as much money as he wanted for me, but dear old daddy didn't want to sell. Oh, and while we're on the subject of Albrecht Stables, this is only some of what happened while I was there.' Turning around so my back faced her I lifted up my pyjama top and showed her the mess Kyle had made of my back. Her eyes widened, she pursed her lips, and then she began to tap her left foot furiously. Did that mean she was concerned about me? There were some confusing mixed signals going on around here.

'The utter bastard. What the hell is he playing at? When I get my hands on him…'

'Mum, can we worry about Michael later? What I want to know is are you still trying to kill my husband, because I'd quite like to keep him alive.' I looked at her pleadingly and hoped I was worrying over nothing. This mafia story had to be nonsense, right? I'd just had too much time to think in this place.

'Oh fuck.' She pulled her phone out of her handbag with lightning-quick fingers and hit speed dial. My stomach sank like a submarine that had just been torpedoed. Immediately I pictured Mark bleeding out on his cell floor, wheezing and gasping for breath. I could see sightless eyes staring at the wall, his skin turning an unpleasant shade of blue. Was he already dead? Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

'Hi Mickey. You know that hit we put out? Did your guy get the shank? He did? Ah, yes, there's been a complication. We need the target alive. Can you get in there ASAP?' There was a long pause. 'Let's just say I'm going to be very unhappy if the guy turns up dead, darling. Do I make myself clear?' There was a lot of venom in that last sentence. There was a chance I had the scariest mother in the universe. 'Then why are you still talking? Get moving sunshine.' She threw her phone back in her handbag, looked at me, and smiled.

'Is he still alive?' I asked nervously.

'Let's hope so. I'm going to be very put out if he isn't, and I'm generally not a nice person to be around if that happens.'

I nodded slowly, wondering what the hell that meant.

'Well, my guy is going to let me know the outcome of that call as soon as he can. What should we do in the meantime?' My mother was the epitome of calm, cool and collected. It was all right for her. The love of her life wasn't currently at the mercy of some god-awful criminal who was trying to execute him. What if he was on the cell floor, slowly dying, and there was no one around to raise the alarm? A thousand what-if scenarios flew through my head, none of which were very pleasant. I was going to go mad as I waited for that call. Absolutely, stir-crazy, dementia-style mad.

'So, what have you been doing with yourself lately? I've tried to keep tabs on you as best as I was able, but Michael wasn't particularly helpful on that score. Why don't you fill me in on how you did in school, where you've been travelling, what you like to eat, who your friends are - that kind of thing?' She gave me a friendly, encouraging smile, but that simply wasn't going to cut it.

'I can't talk about any of that now, and quite honestly, if you abandoned me you have no right to know. The only reason I am talking to you is because I know you're trying to kill my husband, otherwise I'd have asked you to leave. Oh, and for the record, it's a bit weird finding out that your mum is in the mafia. What was wrong with the PTA? Was that too dull for you?' We did not look at each other for a moment. I needed to calm down and she seemed to be at a loss for words. What I wouldn't give for a vodka and tonic right now. I couldn't help but wonder if that would interfere with the prescription meds. If it did, I was even more for the idea.

'You don't choose the mafia.' When my mother finally spoke again she made me jump. It had gone quiet for a few minutes, and I was on tenterhooks as it was waiting for her damn phone to ring. I rubbed my hands down over my eyes and then dragged them down my skin. It wasn't a pretty look, but I didn't much care.

'Oh, right. A gun suddenly floats down magically into your hand and says, hey lady, you'd look real good with your hands covered in blood.' I gave her one of Mark's ironic looks, sure to put the fear of God into anyone. Except someone in the mafia, of course.

'Something like that.'

'So you want me to sit and chat about the last few years of my life which you've chosen to have nothing to do with, as if none of this has actually happened? Hello! You're trying to kill my husband or may actually have killed him. How are we supposed to start up a genial conversation after that?'

'He'll be fine, and for the record, I thought he'd tried to kill you. I was only trying to protect you.'

'Normal mothers don't protect their daughters by killing people. They might call the police, or a lawyer, but they generally don't try and murder people.' My voice was a little strained and my blood pressure was rocketing again.

'The police are utterly useless and you already know that, Missy.' She then gave me a stern look.

'It's nice to see you've been keeping tabs on me. Pity you couldn't have rescued me from my father.' I made a sour face. I would have given anything for someone to have whisked me out of Michael's house and far, far away. A tiny little cottage somewhere, a flat… all I'd ever wanted was for someone to love me.

'He's not your father.' She looked at me carefully. I wondered if she thought Michael would have told me that. She'd have been wrong. Some things you just had to find out on your own.

'I'm well aware of that. I'm an excellent snoop. Even so, I never found any details about your whereabouts anywhere.' And I'd looked. All over. There wasn't a single clue to indicate where my mother had been hiding all these years. 'Anyway, enough of this. How long does it take to rescue a man from jail? A few minutes? A few hours?'

Please don't let it be any longer than a few minutes, I thought. I was already hysterical with worry.

 

We had to wait over thirty minutes before her phone rang. By the end of it I could barely string two words together, and she gave up all pretence of trying to carry on a conversation with me. It was clear I was a mess.

When my mother answered the call she didn't say a lot. Words like 'I see' and 'okay' were uttered, but nothing more useful than that. By the end of the call I was nearly ready to kill her.

'Is he alive?' I almost screamed at her.

My mother quietly put her phone back in her handbag and rested her hands on top of the shiny black handles. That immediately sent me into a panicked frenzy. If he was fine she'd have just said it.

'Tell me,' I whispered, fearing the worst.

Smoothing her hair away from her face she then said, 'Do you want the good news or the bad news?'

'Don't mess around with me. Is he alive or is he dead?' If he was dead I swore she would shortly be following him.

'Well, the good news is he's not dead.' The smile she gave me didn't reach her eyes. This was not good.

'I'd rather have started with the bad news.' I glared at her and waited impatiently.

'Okay.' She drawled that word for a good three seconds, as if afraid of what she was going to say next. I already knew, without a doubt, that I wasn't going to like it. What was happening to my life lately? It was as if I was trying to swim uphill with my arms tied behind my back.

'Fine.' She took both hands off her handbag, holding them up towards me as stop signs, before saying, 'There's no easy way to say this. He's been stabbed and is now on his way to hospital.'

My lip wobbled, although I knew something like this had been coming. Closing my eyes I tried to keep things together. I did not want to break down in front of a mother who thought killing people was a fun sport.

'You need to go,' I got out through gritted teeth. I meant it. My fingers wanted to wrap themselves around her throat and squeeze until there was no life left in her body, but logic informed me that the gun in her bag would be out before I lifted a finger towards her, so I took a deep breath and stared her down. So what if she was a killer. If she'd wanted to kill me she'd have done so a long time ago.

When she made no move to do as I'd asked I yelled at the top of my lungs, 'Go!'

'You need someone here,' she said quietly. Trying to grab my hand I whisked it as far out of her way as I could.

'Go!' I screamed.

This time she took me at my word. She walked towards the door with her head held high, but risked one last glance towards me. The look I bore was one of hatred, she acknowledged it, and then made her leave.

When the room returned to silence it took almost more energy than I had not to succumb to tears. I didn't have time for tears. Mark needed me. Dragging myself out of bed, I tore the IV out of my arm and picked off all the electrodes that still decorated my body. It felt good to be rid of the things. Then I shrugged off my pyjamas and struggled into a pair of jeans and a sweater that had been left for me. I could barely bend over my stomach was so sore, but somehow I managed to put a pair of sneakers on and tie the laces up. I was getting out of here today. Wherever they were holding Mark they needed to make space for me, because I was going to create holy hell until they did. Tearing open the bedside drawer I grabbed Mark's phone and prepared to do battle with the doctors and nurses. Standing up tall, I was fully prepared to annihilate the lot of them. Worry was eating me alive and no one was going to stand in my way until I got what I wanted.

As it turned out I had good reason to be worried. The next time I saw Mark he was bleeding out in hospital with septicaemia.

Chapter Thirty - Mark

Later I found out that Mr Big had only managed to stab me once before the guards burst in and restrained him. It had taken four of them to get him under control, so I considered one stab wound to the thigh a small price to pay for being alive. Unfortunately he smashed my back open again, and I can't even begin to describe how painful that was, but there was a bright side to all of that. I was now in my very own hospital bed, which not only had a decent sized mattress but clean sheets as well. Impressive painkillers had been liberally provided, and the staff were really quite pleasant considering they thought I was a murderer. The hospital also had the benefit of not housing any criminals, bar myself of course, though I guessed they had some kind of security on me.

Now before you start thinking that everything was going swimmingly well, I have to confess I wasn't in amazing shape. From what I could gather I had some kind of infection that they were now treating with a hefty dose of antibiotics. This is about as much as I could gather whilst sky-high on meds. Clouds were floating around inside my head, and rainbows were twinkling. The doctors were poking and prodding at my back, and I couldn't feel a thing. It was great. Unfortunately it completely interfered with any rational thought pattern. Lying there, dreaming mostly happy thoughts, I really was quite content for a moment or two. I'd come back to reality eventually, but I fully intended to enjoy this for as long as I could. When it came to end I'd no doubt I'd be straight back in jail. Settling back on a hazy cloud of morphine I decided that I might look into recreational drugs in prison. Seriously… what could go wrong?

 

I must have dozed off for a while, because when I came to my pillow was soaking wet and covered in drool. Urgh. Mind you, at least I'd had some sleep, and there was a lot to be said for that.

Pushing the pillow out of my way I turned my head around slowly, trying to gauge what time of day it was. The large window behind my bed confirmed it was nearing dusk. God, how many hours had I been asleep for? It was probably an all time record for me.

'Good evening, Mark.' There was a soft whisper from behind me - a soft, familiar whisper. As I'd been lying on my stomach I hadn't seen anyone yet. Twisting my head around in the opposite direction it was to find my wife seated next to me. She looked like an angel. Actually, she might have been an angel for all I knew.

'This morphine stuff is really good. I thoroughly recommend the hallucinations,' I said to her. 'Is there any chance we could have filthy, hot, dirty sex as well?'

The angel, who looked exactly like my wife, rolled her eyes and said, 'You aren't hallucinating, you're nearing the end of your morphine trip, and I don't think you're in any shape for sex of any variety at the moment.'

'You told the police I tried to kill you.' I thought I'd just put that out there. I was still a little put out that she'd screamed at me and got me arrested less than five minutes after she'd woken up.

'There was a nurse at your back with a syringe loaded with something very unpleasant. Better to get you tossed into jail than into a coffin ten foot underground.'

My brow furrowed in deep lines. 'So you don't hate me.'

'I wouldn't go that far. You're still one of the biggest assholes I've ever met. Oh, and by the way, my mother wants you dead. The guy who stabbed you in the thigh missed his actual target by some considerable margin. I rescued you from that too, by the way.'

That took a few moments of processing. That meant that Jen's mum was actually…

'You're welcome.' She raised an eyebrow at me.

'You want a thank you? Seriously, you'd have needed to rescue me a whole lot earlier if you wanted a thank you. Preferably before I got stabbed.' I smiled grimly.

'You'd better not mess with me, darling. I have connections. Next time I can make it hurt…' She grinned sweetly at me and waved my cell phone around.

'Urgh. You're serious. You have a mother who's in the mafia. Fucking hell. I'm going to be eating my own testicles shortly.' I grimaced. Whilst few men were great fans of their mother-in-law, at least they didn't need to worry about being iced if they put a single foot wrong with their daughter. My life had just taken a drastic turn for the worse.

'Maybe you should kill me now. If you let your mother do it I'm pretty sure it will hurt a whole lot more.' Judging by the last attempt on my life she really didn't like me all that much.

'Nah. Where's the fun in that? I'd much rather have you scared witless and looking over your shoulder every five seconds.' She smiled again, this time evilly. 'Oh, and by the way, apparently I have more money than you do.'

Fuck. If Jen had lots of money at her disposal she'd leave me in ten seconds flat. If it was true, and it might not be.

'Yes, but yours is filthy dirty. Who'd want that money when you can have nice clean shiny stuff?' I laughed at my own joke and then moaned painfully as my lungs pulled at the skin of my back. The morphine was indeed wearing off and it was not a happy experience.

'You're not telling me yours is all angelically gained, are you? If you're in business with Leyland I hope all your notes are wipe clean.' She stuck her tongue out at me. The woman actually stuck her tongue out at me! If I could have slung her ass over my knee right there and then I would have done. As it was I had to settle for a frosty look.

'Ladies do not stick their tongues out. As to my money being wipe clean, the Royal Mint seems to have decided that we are to have those disgusting plastic notes in place of paper ones, so in actual fact it is wipe clean. Oh, and I'm not staying in business with Forbes much longer. I'm pretty sure he'll buy me out given the right encouragement.'

'Oh, I don't know. Leyland and I could come to some arrangement about you staying in the drugs business, I think. It's not going to be so easy to pin murder on you if you don't have a ready supply of poison to hand, is it?'

'Since when do you think that you call the shots around here?' I said acerbically.

'Since you've been incapacitated and drugged up with morphine. Oh, and since I have a mother who's really keen on killing you, should you become a problem.' Jennifer patted my head affectionately.

'I swear as soon as I get out of this bed your ass is going to be bright red and that mouth is going to be gagged with the biggest ball gag I can find. After I've done that we're moving to a very small island located in the middle of nowhere, where no one will be able to find us. Ever.'

Jennifer bit her lip to stop from laughing. 'And then what are you going to do with me?'

'Fuck you senseless every single day, over and over again until we both become so exhausted we can't move. Then you'll get a day off before I start all over again.'

'Sounds like fun.'

'Actually, it does.' My wife slowly sucked her index finger into her mouth and then proceeded to move it up and down to torment me.

'Are you taking advantage of the fact I'm sick?' I growled the words at her, but was somewhat relieved that certain parts of my anatomy were working just fine. It appeared I wasn't a complete cripple.

'I've got to take my advantages where I can. You've certainly made use of yours in the past.' Jennifer's voice sounded somewhat dry, and yes, I deserved the low blow.

'This is probably about the time I should say I'm sorry,' I said. 'Jen, you don't know how grateful I am that you're alive.' I hoped I looked suitably contrite, but mastering facial expressions other than pain was beyond me at the moment. Instead I reached for her hand, grabbed it and squeezed it, hoping that would convey a little of the sincerity I felt. 'Oh and just in case one of us gets killed before we have the chance to speak again, I realize you had nothing to do with what your father did to me. I was an idiot. At the time I was blinded by rage and just wanted revenge in whichever shape or form I could find it in, and unfortunately that happened to be you. Actually, it wasn't unfortunately, because I happen to have fallen in love with you. If this is the point where you tell me I'm a monster and you never want to see me again I'd rather you do it now than later, so let's get it over with.' I squeezed her pale hand again. She was far too thin. I wanted to fatten her up. I would fatten her up, if she'd let me.

Jen inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. 'If I was any kind of sensible I would leave you. I would run as fast as my legs would carry me, never look back, and never think of you again for a moment.' The last 't' was a staccato burst on her tongue and I thought I detected some resentment there. I could work with anger and resentment, but I couldn't work with a running divorcee. I looked down to try and figure out whether she was wearing heels. Craning my neck, I had a sinking feeling as I saw a pair of sneakers. They were running shoes all right. When the room had been silent for far too long and I could bear it no longer I asked, 'And are you going to leave me?'

'It depends.' She withdrew her hand from my grasp, folded her hands in her lap and looked heavenward. I wanted to gasp in vexation. Just spit it out woman. What is it you want? To be fair I was prepared to do just about anything for her, she just needed to tell me what it was.

'Name your demands. Never let it be said that I'm a man who is not willing to compromise.'

She turned her head and gave me an enquiring look. 'You're prepared to compromise on the sexual side of our relationship?'

Oh fuck. This was exactly what I'd been afraid of. She wanted everything vanilla, or worse, maybe none at all. The pained look I gave her had nothing to do with my back, as I said, 'I'm prepared to stop being a whip-wielding monster and leave the handcuffs and rope alone, if that's what you're asking. I can't be a monk, though. If you want a celibate relationship you'll need to walk. Every time I look at you all I want to do is rip your clothes off, and that's doubly frustrating at the moment, because I can't.'

'Then the deal's off. We'll have to get a divorce.' She lowered her eyes to look at mine, and with horror I saw that she was deadly serious. Oh God. Could I go cold turkey on sex? Could I do that for her? I didn't even want to think of the amount of suffering that would entail, but neither did I want to think about life without her.

Jen burst out laughing, utterly confusing me for a moment. 'There's no way I'm staying married to a vanilla man after you've introduced me to kinky sex. It's a bit like choosing between braising steak and fillet; one's tough and unappetizing, and the other is exquisitely amazing. They don't compare. If there's one thing in our relationship that cannot change at all costs, it's the fact that you're a sex-crazed monster.' She winked at me.

Burying my head into the pillow I groaned. What was I going to do with her? She thought I was a monster? Seriously, what had I created here?

'As soon as I'm back to fighting fitness you are going to suffer for doing that to me, little miss.' I threw her 'the look', but it didn't faze her in the slightest.

'I'm enjoying you like this. Maybe I could have you stabbed more often.'

I think she was only half joking. 'It's not the stab wound that's the problem,' I groaned, before I realized my mistake.

'You've got another injury? Is that why you're lying on your stomach? What happened?'

'I had a little incident with a very nasty whip.' There was no point beating about the bush. As soon as she saw the marks she'd know anyway.

'In prison? You're kidding me. I'm surprised they didn't smuggle a gun in there and blow your brains out. Would have been easier.' She looked pretty horrified, so I decided I'd let her get away with that remark, though she was building up an impressive tally of spanks, let me tell you.

'I was whipped before I went to prison. Quite honestly, I hadn't counted on spending the night in jail.'

'Who whipped you? Why?' A flood of questions then rained down, but I fielded them away with my hand.

'I thought you were going to die. I felt guilty as hell and I needed some way to atone for my sins. I'm not sure I'd have survived with your death on my hands.'

Jennifer shook her head and looked aghast before saying, 'Couldn't you have just given all your money away to charity or something?'

'That thought hadn't occurred to me, but I wouldn't have suffered nearly enough anyway. I needed pain. I'm a visceral, tearing agony and blood kinda guy. I can still give all my money away to charity though, if you like.' I raised my eyebrows in question although I might have worn a slightly dry expression.

'Perhaps we'll settle on you giving some of your money away. If you suddenly leave yourself destitute you'll just work yourself silly trying to earn it all back again, and it will feel weird if I have more money than you.' She broke into a big smile then.

I frowned. 'I think you will need to donate all of your money to charity, so that you're completely reliant on me forever. I think this term should be non-negotiable,' I muttered, having almost forgotten that my wife was shortly about to inherit a vast sum of cash.

'I don't think you're in any position to make demands,' she said. 'I also think that those kind of demands could lead to a very messy and very expensive divorce.' The half-lidded look she wore was devilish.

'You forget that I'm still allowed to use rope, cuffs and I can withhold sexual gratification. You'll be putty in my hands.' I returned the look with interest, feeling quite pleased with myself.

'Not yet you can't. For now you're reliant on the doctors, nurses, and me. We're going to have a lot of fun at your expense. Trust me.' The infuriating woman blew me a kiss.

'Maybe we should get that divorce after all…' I was only half joking.

Jennifer blew me another kiss, which irritated me all the more. I wasn't sure if I should be glad that I'd managed to get a woman with lots of fire and spirit, or saddened that I was going to be spending the rest of my life trying to spank it out of her. Oh, wait a minute, I enjoyed that kind of thing. Unfortunately, so did she.

'Oh and by the way, darling, did I mention they had dropped the charges against you?' She did the finger-sucking thing again and my cock immediately tried to poke a hole through the mattress. I swear this woman was going to drive me insane, whether mentally or with longing remained to be seen.

'And you thought you'd just tell me this now?' I queried sweetly. It's a good thing you've got your running shoes on today; you might need those. I glared at her with all the disapproval I could muster, and began thinking about all the delightful torments I could put her through as soon as I got out of this damn place. It was a good thing I healed quickly. If I had to spend too much time around my wife like this I might actually murder her.

'Ha. You have me to thank for that. The police were talking about poison found in your apartment. Does that ring a bell?' She stretched out her beautiful neck and slowly moved it from side to side, loosening it up. I realized then that she still looked far too pale.

'Did you discharge yourself from hospital?' I narrowed my eyes at her darkly.

'Do you want to know how I managed to get you acquitted for murder or would you rather go down that…?'

'Don't change the subject young lady, or there will be consequences.' I ground my teeth together. She was going to drive me mad - it was official.

'Yes. I discharged myself. My mother was trying her best to murder you and I wanted to make sure she didn't try anything else. You can sue me later.' She also narrowed her eyes at me and we had our first married 'staring match'. Hell, why hadn't I got married earlier? The way she was going she'd be in cuffs and chains for at least the next decade.

I waved my hand at her. We could discuss her transgressions later. Right now I wanted to know how she'd managed to get my name off the shit list.

'Go back. What about the apartment?' I twirled my finger in the air to demonstrate my point. I was going to need to get good at gestures in the next few days. Any movement upon anything bar my arms and neck was pretty grim.

'So now you want to speak to me?'

'That is three hundred and sixty-four spanks you've just earned yourself in less than an hour. Are you really sure you want to continue with the sass?' I was deadly serious. She'd earned at least that many, probably more, although I didn't intend to deliver them all on the same day. I like to take my time about these things.

'Promises, promises,' she replied insouciantly.

'Make that four-hundred and sixty-four spanks,' I said. 'Anyway, back to the apartment.' I took a deep breath and hoped we'd get somewhere this time.

'Ah, yes, that.' She sniffed, and I wondered if she was going to prevaricate a little more, but thankfully she decided against it. 'Well, you weren't staying in your apartment, were you? You'd been at Fountaine Bleu with me. There was CCTV footage, staff testimonials and my own statement that proved you were nowhere near that apartment. Although on its own that probably wouldn't have been enough.' She paused and I filled in the blanks for her.

'I might have taken the poison with me, or I could have had someone pop back to the house and get it.'

'Exactly. What actually got you off the hook in the end was some of your neighbours' security footage, which saw a deliveryman getting into the lift with a parcel but then reappearing later with his parcel still in tow. The uniform he was wearing was not connected with any parcel delivery firm that we know of in the UK, and no one recalls having missed a delivery. Security footage from outside the building saw the gentleman walk away, with no van in sight. All rather strange, wouldn't you say?' She looked at me questioningly.

'Yes. Most odd,' I replied, 'but still not enough to get me off the hook for murder in my opinion.' My fingers were crossed that there was more, because I wanted this to be an open and shut case. I did not want to be tangled up in court for the next several months, even if I might stand a chance at getting bail now.

'Leyland stepped in to inform the officers that anything you might have managed to get from him wouldn't have been strong enough to do any damage, unless taken in a massive dose. According to my statement it had been a tiny packet, which was consistent with me having taken it with a glass of water. They also still had some left over crystals, the one's they'd gathered from the table at Escape, that confirmed that the two poisons were not of the same strength. Whoever tried to frame you did a sloppy job.' Jen looked thoughtful.

'Well, they were assuming that I'd be dead. They hadn't figured on you being the one to take the poison. Everything that happened after that was going to be a rush job at best.'

'And thank goodness for that, else you'd either be dead or heading for a long spell behind bars.'

'Are you disappointed darling?' I had to ask. Her life might have been much easier with me out of the way.

She looked at me for a minute, as if surprised by the question, but then grinned.

'Hell no. If you were behind bars the sex was almost guaranteed to be non-existent or terrible. Where is the fun in that?'

'I'll have you know that my phone sex sessions are fucking amazing,' I said, and I was deadly serious.

Jennifer looked at me coyly, as if deciding whether to say something or not. I was not going to like this, unless I was much mistaken. 'If in any doubt don't say it,' I muttered darkly.

'I wasn't talking about your sex, phone-style or otherwise. I was talking about all the sex I'd have to have with random men in your absence in order to stop myself from committing suicide at the thought of you being behind bars for the better part of a decade or two. That kind of terrible sex.'

I was gobsmacked for at least a minute or two. The air around me turned frosty shades of blue and green as I wished I could haul her over my lap and spank her so hard she'd need to beg over and over again for my forgiveness.

In lieu of being able to move I said through gritted teeth, 'You have now earned yourself a nice even number of one thousand spanks. Never mention the word 'sex' with any other man ever again if you want to live through the ordeal. When I'm finished with you, mark my words there will be tears.'

My wife burst into hysterical laughter. 'Not if you want to remain on the right side of your mother-in-law you won't.'

Rather sourly I watched Jennifer laugh so hard that she actually cried.

I needed to sort this mother-in-law problem out fast. My life was going to hell otherwise.

Chapter Thirty-One - Mark

After having spent an entire two weeks in hospital, I was finally signed off and able to go home again. My wife took an inordinate amount of pleasure in wheeling my wheelchair out to the limo (company policy, apparently) and had pretty much done her best to irritate the hell out of me as soon as she knew I was on the mend. I had borne most of the teasing with good humour and grace, but only because I knew the day would come when I would get my own back. That day was now approaching.

As soon as we were in the car and the driver was happily manoeuvring his way through London, I turned to Jennifer and smiled. She looked magnificent in a dark navy suit, accompanied by a silk scarf in a brilliant shade of scarlet. I wanted to eat her - whole - and no seasoning would be required.

Turning towards her, almost amazed at our good fortune considering both of us should be dead, I said, 'Looking forward to being at my mercy?' I might as well get it out there. The status quo was about to change for the better and she might as well brace herself in advance.

She didn't quake in her boots, which would have been the appropriate response, but instead looked at me with a heated gaze. Her voice dropped two octaves as she said, 'I've been looking forward to being at your mercy, Sir, for a very long time. Two weeks is an extraordinarily long time without sex and vibrators are just not the same.' She pouted at me.

I shook my head, absolutely horrified. 'Wait a minute. While I've been suffering and at death's door you've been having orgasms in your free time?' My face bore a thunderous expression.

'Obviously. What else was I going to do to while away the hours?' Whilst her expression was innocent, or as innocent as it could be whilst talking about vibrators and orgasms, I began to wonder whether this woman was pulling my chain. Anyone would think she wanted to be taken to task, the rate her misdemeanours were racking up.

'We need to go over the rules.' I sighed. Punishing her for a rule she knew nothing about wasn't my style, although it was tempting. If my wife wanted to become my submissive, as she had previously indicated, we had a long way to go. Shifting awkwardly in the back seat of the car I turned slowly in order to face her. The splint my leg wore made movement difficult and ungainly. It was going to be a problem for some of the things I had planned, but not an insurmountable one. Where there's a will…

'We have rules?' Jennifer blinked up at me, and there was the twinkle in her eye. Dammit. I knew she was playing with me.

'I have rules. You just need to follow them, and rule number one is that you are not allowed to orgasm at any time without my express permission.' There. That'd take the smile off her face.

'Or what?' She winked at me. The woman had the audacity to wink at me. Seriously. Where was I going wrong? I'd had an office full of obedient submissives not less than a month ago, and now look where I was.

'Or there will be consequences,' I managed to reply calmly.

'I'm not sure you're much of a threat at the moment,' she remarked cheekily.

Although she had a point I'd already got my argument ready to counter that one.

'Do you want my help locating daddy dearest and putting him in his place, or would you like a divorce? It'll be great fun moving in with your mother, that's for sure.' She scowled, and I knew I had her.

'Fine. We'll play it your way for now, but don't push your luck.'

We were always going to play it my way, but she'd figure that out soon enough.

 

When we pulled up at Fountaine Bleu it was not a moment too soon. I'd been itching to get my hands on my wife for the last two weeks, and my patience these last few days wasn't what it had been.

While the driver opened the car door for me Jennifer retrieved my crutches and passed them towards me. This might have been a very considerate gesture on her part, but I hated displaying weakness of any kind and hobbling about was going to get on my nerves. On the plus side, I had ways of working that frustration out of me now.

'Why are we back here? I thought you might have wanted to go back to your apartment? Don't you need to be able to keep up with…?'

'People will be able to hear your screams back in the apartment,' I said, grinning wolfishly at her. 'Besides, I'm having the security updated after the recent break in. As to work, I have a computer and a cell phone, and there isn't much that Cynthia can't handle given half a chance.'

'Oh,' she said quietly.

'Oh indeed,' I reiterated. 'Which gives me lots and lots of previously never used vacation time in order to do whatever I like with you.' Funnily enough I'd never wanted to take a vacation before, but in the near future I figured I was going to be catching up on lost time.

'Head on up to the Velvet Room, darling. There's an outfit for you there. Put it on and wait for me.' My voice was a low, seductive purr, as I ran my hand over her backside urging her up the stairs.

She faltered for a moment. I could see her swallow, and her face was drawn into a tight line. Although I probably should have let her suffer, after what had happened I didn't have the heart to do so.

'Relax, darling. The monster has gone.' I gave her ass a friendly squeeze. 'I still expect you to pay for your previous crimes, of course, but it won't be the same as before. Now go and do as you're told.'

Her legs were a little slow in obeying my command, but I understood her nervousness. A lot had happened here in the space of a few days, when I had been consumed with hatred and revenge. Now was the time to put that right. We needed to start again.

 

Giving her a while to get ready, I couldn't help but wonder what she would think of the latest outfit I had given her. It probably wasn't quite what she was expecting. Having had far too much time to think and reflect whilst banged up in a hospital bed, I decided to do things differently this time around. Life had given me a second chance, and I didn't intend to blow it this time. We would take things slow and easy. Scrap that. We would take some things slow and easy, other things hard and fast. It was the only way to roll.

Pressing the call button for the lift I found myself very grateful that I'd had one installed. Traipsing up a flight of steps with a set of crutches and a cast would have been disastrous, and my manhood already felt under threat from my extremely spirited and unreasonably independent wife. Keeping her under control was going to take up a vast amount of my time, but I suspected there'd be plenty of fun and games along the way.

Taking a slow and awkward stroll along the corridor, it wasn't long before Jennifer's room came into view. The velvet room. The one I'd created especially to torment her with. Now she would be pampered and cossetted, and probably frequently but lovingly disciplined here. I didn't think I was ready to move her into my room yet. We needed time to get to know each other, time we should have had before we married.

Pausing at the door to knock, I waited for a reply. When there was no immediate answer I frowned. Twisting the handle I slowly pushed it open and wondered if my delightful wife was going to throw anything at me. I hoped not. It had taken a lot of time and effort to pick this particular outfit out, and I'd been almost convinced she'd like it. If I'd got it all wrong it was going to be a bad omen for the rest of the day, at least.

When the door in front of me parted enough to reveal what was hidden inside it felt as though someone had sucked all the air out of the room. My eyes bulged as though someone had punched me in the stomach, and my cock instantly sprang into life. The vision before me was utterly stunning.

'You look…' For once in my life I was at a loss for words. I stood there with my jaw wide open and my tongue hanging out. Well, that's what it felt like, anyway.

'Edible? Divine? Fuckable? Delicious?' Jennifer directed the full power of her cerulean eyes my way, and being the mere mortal that I was I dissolved into a puddle on the floor.

'All of those and more,' I whispered. Jennifer smiled a slow and seductive smile from where she stood, her leg propped up on the silver-backed, velvet-lined chair. The dress she wore was sensational. Made of iridescent red organza, it left little to the imagination and hugged every single one of her curves effortlessly. There was a completely transparent cut-out to each side of the dress, which outlined the curve of her buttocks and the sleek shape of her legs perfectly. It tied in a halter-neck style, which would do for a collar until I had the chance to buy her one, featuring a single diamond clasp at her nape. She looked like a fucking goddess. There was no other word for it.

'There were no panties provided with this dress,' Jennifer remarked, the merest twitch of her lips informing me that she was amused by my antics.

'Nor will there ever be,' I said firmly. 'If I had my way you'd never wear clothes again, but I'm beginning to discover that a little compromise here and there isn't entirely bad for me.' Actually, the dress screamed 'fuck me' far greater than any naked body ever had, and that was saying something.

'So I'm going to parade around in nearly naked dresses every day?' The twitch had developed into a full blow smile, and she brushed her fingers through her now blonde locks, mussing them up until she looked almost feral. Oh God. How was I ever going to be able to concentrate with my wife in the house?

'If I so choose, yes.' I meant it, too.

'Do I get to wear slacks and jeans for good behaviour? I'm not sure this would be a great look in the grocery aisle.' She bit her lip, trying to stop herself from grinning and failing miserably.

'You do not need to do the grocery shopping darling, but if I ever let you outside unaccompanied you will be wearing a sack, and possibly a full burka, too. And I'm pretty sure you will never go swimming in public again. In fact, scrap all of that. I'm going to chain you to the bed twenty-four-seven. There is no reason for me to worry about all of this.'

'We need to work on your idea of compromising. Remember that I have a mother with connections. If I'm unhappy, she will be unhappy.'

'Hmmm. About that,' I remarked casually, 'how is she going to be unhappy if you don't talk to her? Your mobile phone was disposed of not five minutes ago as it happens. It had a nasty accident with the trash compacter. Even if you've managed to memorise her number the home phone has a code that you are not going to be privy to, darling.' Unfortunately this did not seem to quell her good humour in the slightest.

'You are not going to get rid of my mother that easily, but suit yourself. Now was there a point to this dress, or should I just continue posing prettily?'

'Patience is a virtue, darling. Firstly, I want to confirm that you wished to be trained up as my submissive. If you don't want to do the kinky sex thing this is your last chance to get out of it. I'm going to be rather put out if you don't, but I'll find a way to live with it somehow.'

She laughed, a full-blow belly laugh that nearly brought tears to her eyes. When she could finally speak again she said, 'You'd be unbearable to live with. We might as well get a divorce now if that's the case.'

'And are we getting a divorce?' I found I was very anxious to hear her reply. She let me wait for it, of course. Walking towards me she put two hands around my neck and nuzzled into me. It was the nicest feeling, and I decided we'd need to do a lot more of it.

'I'm prepared to give it a whirl, provided you are a reasonable master.'

'Define reasonable,' I said, my eyes narrowing.

'We'll figure it out as we go along.'

And that was all the indication I needed that we were ready to begin.

Chapter Thirty-Two - Mark

'It's called a spreader bar,' I said, as I fastened the last cast iron shackle around her ankles. The solid black bar positioned between her legs was a metre wide and it would do for now.

'I know. I've been in one before. You put me in one, shortly after we first met.' Jennifer gave me 'the look'. I returned it. It was hard to tell whether I'd been giving out more of them lately, or whether she had. Anyway, we'd address disrespectful looks along with a whole mountain load of other things shortly.

'It's not hard to guess why it's called that, either.' She wiggled her ankles around experimentally and found that there wasn't much give inside the metal fur-lined cuffs.

'Do you mind being spread open wide for me?' I sneaked a hand inside her barely there dress and slowly slid it up her thigh. She slapped it away just after I'd passed her knee. I'd need to take care of that too.

Giving her a disapproving glance I said, 'Hold your arms out in front of you.' She shook her head quickly. 'Ah, not too confident now, are we?' I smacked her butt lightly. 'Don't tell me you're worried about the cripple taking advantage of you. You can probably still run faster than I can, even in that get up.'

'That's a good point,' she whispered.

Her eyes, which had been focused on the floor up until now, chose that moment to look up at me. It was in those that I finally spotted the fear I suspected had been lurking there all along, carefully hidden and pushed out of view.

'Are you scared of me?' I hoped she would answer me truthfully.

There was a pause as she considered the question and a little nervous fidgeting with her hands. She couldn't do much with her legs, but I suspected they'd be fidgeting too, given half a chance.

'A little.' Her voice was soft and low, a mere whisper of sound, but still incredibly beautiful. It was shocking to admit that I loved nearly everything about the woman.

I nodded. 'We don't have to do this now. We can wait a while, take some time to get to know each other and come back to it later.' If there was one thing I didn't want to do it was rush her. If I sent her flying out of the front door I knew without doubt that she would never come back.

'Actually, we do need to do this. Once it's over the fear will go away. Before, you've never given me a choice. You just catapulted me into a scene and began throwing things at me. A surge of adrenaline usually carried me through. This is different. This time I need to see whether I can do this for the rest of my life. Can we make this work? I'm scared of failure. I don't want to lose you. What if I do something wrong? What if I can't cope with what you throw at me?'

The words came out in a rush, but I understood them perfectly. All the bravado of the last couple of weeks had finally worn thin and she was now bearing a little of herself, showing me that we could talk with a degree of honesty between us.

'You can't do anything wrong. This relationship is a glittering new present for both of us. We can unwrap it slowly and see if it fits. If it doesn't, we'll talk about that later... but I think we fit. I need you, Mrs Matthews, and if you don't need me, mark my words, you will soon.' I brushed a brief, chaste kiss across her lips. Nothing more than a quick meeting of lips and flesh, but I felt her body tighten. I could sense it. We were more attuned to each other than she knew.

Picking up a long swathe of velvet ribbon from the chest of drawers in front of me, I gathered it up and ran it along her cheek. Then I smoothed the length out and draped it over her shoulder, slowly running the material around her neck.

'Can you feel that?' I purred. 'That's a touch that is assured and confident, yet soft and gentle. I intend to be many things to you, darling, but most of all I want you to feel safe, loved, and happy. If you don't feel any of those things this won't work. So now you know where I stand. If you're my submissive, I intend to make sure you feel like a goddess. I will worship your body, mind and soul, and all I would like in return is that you try to do your best in all things I ask of you. Are you prepared to give this a try? Do you trust me?'

Threading the length of ribbon between her legs, I took one end in each hand and slowly moved it back and forth. She groaned sweetly at the kiss of velvet, and raised her head fully to look me in the eye.

'You don't play fair,' she moaned, as the ribbon worked its way back and forth.

'I said nothing about playing fair. Life isn't fair. You can take the deal or leave it,' I rasped into her ear, watching as her body bent to each subtle twist of the material. Seeing her eyes darken with desire, I felt my body flood with almost uncontrollable lust. She had the most incredible effect on me, but if there were one thing I would always be in her presence, it would be controlled.

The ribbon continued its playful journey back and forth until I had her moaning in heat. Then, and only then, did I apply a little more pressure, seeking to torment her sweet spot, the one that would be aching for attention right now.

'Do you want me?' I whispered. My lips pressed gently against her collarbone and I followed the path along her neck until I reached the hollow of her throat. Her pulse was beating a fairly rapid tune, so I was reasonably certain that the answer was yes.

'You know I do.' She ground her hips down into the ribbon, but the touch still wasn't enough to satisfy her.

'Do you trust me?' I placed the ribbon back on the drawers and, working my way under her skirts, let my fingers find her pulsing little nub. They teased her a bit more, squeezing, flicking and rubbing. She nearly sobbed out loud. Relaxing her body into mine, she buried her head in my neck and let her teeth gently tease my neck before she considered her reply.

'Actually, you're probably the only person I trust at the moment. At least I know what your motives are around me.'

I nipped her neck with my teeth and let my fingers press a little harder. 'I am honoured.' Leaning in to whisper in her ear I then said, 'Will you let me tie your hands with the ribbon?' My fingers swirled and swirled around her swollen clit, taking regular dips inside her to lubricate their progress. Her whole body had just begun to tremble and as I stared into those deep, crystal clear blue eyes, I felt something burn brightly inside me.

'Will you let me come if I do?' she pleaded. Although she was trying her hardest to grind her body onto my fingers, they were never quite firm enough to satisfy her.

'I don't make bargains, Jennifer. Losing control is part and parcel of becoming a submissive. So, I ask again, will you let me tie your hands?'

Letting out a huff of frustration she placed her hands in front of her body and I wasted no time in securing them with the velvet ribbon. When I'd finished I surveyed my work carefully.

'You're not running away from me any time soon,' I said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

'Very funny. Finish what you started, oh deviously delicious one.' She turned around and wiggled her ass in my direction. I put my hand to my forehead in mock horror. We had so much work to do.

'Try moving around, sweetheart.'

'I thought you'd got me in this ridiculous get up to stop me moving around.' Jennifer was getting a little fractious. She wanted her orgasm and she wasn't the most patient of people. Clucking my tongue, I waited to see if she would do as she was told. That was the only way she was getting the orgasm she desperately wanted, so she'd better play ball.

Flattening her lips, she grimaced before doing what I'd asked. Her steps were awkward, ungainly and exactly what was needed to show her who was boss around these parts.

'Why do you think I've put you in that?' I nodded towards the spreader bar.

'To humiliate me? To get your own back for all the horrible jokes I told in the hospital at your expense? Because you're just plain mean and nasty?' She said all of that and more as she slowly lurched towards me, one foot at a time. It would have been amusing had I not been so aroused. I could smell the scent of her sex on the air and I wanted to bury myself inside her so badly my whole body ached with longing.

'Wrong on all accounts, darling. I have put you in that so you know who calls the shots around these parts.' I then pointed to myself and said, 'That's me, in case you were wondering.' Her left lip twitched as she tried to supress a grin. I continued, 'I have also put you in that to slow you down. I don't think I'll be able to chase you around the house anytime soon.'

Finally managing to cross the short distance between us, she looked up at me and caressed the side of my cheek with her tied hands. The ribbon she wore around her wrists imparted a soft kiss of velvety smoothness. 'If I wanted to run I would have done so by now,' she said reasonably.

'I know,' I said, taking her hands in mine, 'but these days I don't want to take any chances. Besides, neither of those are the main reasons I have you trussed up like that.'

She raised her eyebrows, and used her tongue to lick her lip sensuously. 'Are they not? Then do spill the beans, my darling beast, because I need to know.' She pressed her body into mine and I swear I could feel her heartbeat through the thin gauze of her dress.

'The main reason I have your legs stretched wide apart like that is so that my fingers can dip inside you whenever it takes their fancy. I want to know when you're aroused and wet. I want those legs splayed wide so I can taste and take you whenever I want to, over and over again, knowing you will never be able to refuse me. I want you to get used to walking like that around me, to know your pleasure belongs to me, and to always be needful of me.'

A soft sigh left her throat, though I hadn't touched her, and I wondered if I'd done something wrong. Running my hand gently underneath her sex I said, 'Do you think you could get used to my demands? Do you think you might enjoy the thought of serving me?' The right answer was being encouraged from her lips by my fingers, which were moving a little harder and faster against her swollen clit.

'I don't think it's going to be a good look when I'm grocery shopping or at the gym. Imagine all the funny looks…' I chose that moment to pinch her clit and she shot forward and gasped out loud.

'We've already discussed the fact that you will not be grocery shopping and you'll have a personal trainer and gym available next door.'

'If you're signing me up with Elsbeth again that's going to be a deal breaker for us.'

'Is it?'

'It absolutely is,' she whispered uncertainly as my fingers found their rhythm and began playing a very fast tune.

'Are you sure about that?' They spun faster and faster, creating a little web of magical enchantment. All I had to do was time this just right and she would do anything I asked of her.

'Absolutely.' She nodded her head shakily, but it was an uncoordinated movement and I knew she was faltering.

'Oh. Well, okay then.' My fingers stopped abruptly in mid stride. I sighed. 'What should we do with the rest of the evening then? Watch some TV? Play chess? Perhaps we could lie in bed and do a spot of reading? You'd enjoy that right?' My wolfish look was back.

'Mark Matthews! You finish what you started or I'll… I'll…'

She tried to stamp her feet and failed miserably. I was going to fall in love with that bar, I was sure of it. 'Or you'll what, darling?'

'When my mother comes calling you are going to regret your high-handedness, oh decidedly evil one. Just remember I told you that.'

'You're probably right,' I remarked. 'But I'll take my chances nonetheless. Now, if we're done talking, bend over that chair and lift your skirts.' I waited to see if she would do as she was told. I wasn't holding my breath. It was just my luck to have landed myself with one of the most challenging, independent and feisty women I had ever met.

There was the longest pause, as if she was weighing my threat up in her head, before she then began moving towards the chair. I think I nearly orgasmed on the spot. Control yourself, I thought dryly. The fun and games were just beginning.

Elegantly draping herself across the arms of the chair, Jennifer thrust her ass high in the air and dragged her skirts slowly up over it. The sight was arresting, and for a moment or two I could do nothing but stare. The red organza framed her buttocks beautifully, and the picture she made was an exquisite masterpiece I could have framed and hung on the wall. I was such a lucky bastard. How had I never realised that before?

'You look amazing. I could stare at that ass forever. It's taking all the willpower I possess for me not to storm over there right now and sink my cock deep inside you.'

'Yay for willpower,' came the slightly muffled and extremely sarcastic response.

I shook my head, a little exasperated but now slightly more focused.

'So how many spanks should we begin with, darling? I wouldn't want to tire you out too much on the first day.' Stepping up close I ran my hand over the curve of her buttocks, and the satin smoothness that greeted my fingertips had me groaning.

'You're the old man. You just do as many as you're capable of before you need to lie down for your nap. I'll cope.'

My tongue firmly in my cheek, I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. I had created a monster - a gorgeous, fiery, sensuous little vixen. It would probably take me my whole life to tame her, but that would be half of the fun of it. One day she would be a purring kitten at my feet. One day.

Rubbing my hands gently across her buttocks again, before kneading them in my fingertips, I pressed myself up close and admired the feel of her warm body against mine. We fit so well together, she and I.

'Can you feel my cock rubbing against you, darling? Can you feel how much I need you? How much I've missed you?' My voice was liquid silk in her ear. My hands dipped between her legs again, teasing and tormenting, pulling gently at her throbbing little bud, watching as she squirmed and moaned delightfully.

'Then take me,' she wailed breathlessly. 'I need you.' The desperation in voice was a glorious sound.

'Oh I will, but not before you've had your spanks. As you have accrued so many in the past few weeks I think we'll work them off in increments of fifty. If you're a good girl and bear them well, then I'll make sure we satisfy that hungry little body of yours. Does that sound good to you?'

There was all sorts of complaints after that, mostly about the fact that fifty was quite a high number, but I just spoke over them loudly, drowning out her voice. 'Excellent, darling. I knew you'd approve.'

Wasting no more time with words I began quickly, administering quick slaps that would do little more than serve as a warm up. Fifty was a big number, but I didn't intend to make her suffer too much. Well not in pain, anyway.

Gradually building up the strength and heat of the smacks, it wasn't long before Jen was wriggling away like an upturned ladybug. This wasn't just because of the slaps though. After each set of five I allowed myself a minute or two to play with her. She was already soaking wet, and after her fifty spanks I predicted she'd be leaving a little puddle of herself on my floor. Maybe I'd make her lick it up later. Watching her crawl around on all fours with her legs splayed wide was also going to be fun, and I was already enjoying myself immensely.

After twenty-five spanks, and much moaning and groaning, I thought I'd better check in and see how I was doing. 'Are you having fun, darling? We're halfway through. I bet things are heating up down there quite nicely, aren't they?' There was a mewl of frustration in response. It was utterly adorable.

'How many days will I have to endure this kind of treatment?' she whispered. If I wasn't much mistaken she was pretty horrified at the thought, which was excellent. I had her right where I wanted her.

'Well, at last count I think you'd earned somewhere around fifteen hundred spanks. So if we break it down to an even fifty per day, I reckon you'll be finished in around a month. That's an approximate figure of course, because it's entirely likely that you'll earn some more in that time, so I wouldn't count on going anywhere without an extremely red backside for at least a couple of months.' I wriggled two fingers inside her, and then squeezed in a third. Taming my wife was going to be extremely satisfying. I was already having more fun than I'd had in ages.

There was a hiss of frustration, followed by a leg wiggle, which probably should have been a stamp.

'I don't think I'll be able to do this every day for a month,' she whispered, grinding her sex onto my fingers as hard as she could.

'You'd be surprised at what you're capable of, given the right encouragement,' I murmured in her ear, patting her backside fondly. 'The only time you're going to get fucked around these parts is after you've endured your fifty spanks, and believe me, by the end of the week you'll be begging for them. Actually, knowing you probably by the end of tomorrow.' Withdrawing my fingers I began spanking her again, but this time with considerably more vigour. They were supposed to be a deterrent to bad behaviour, so there was no reason she shouldn't feel the last few.

I didn't hear another word, so I guessed she was either enjoying the smarting heat beginning to spread through her buttocks, or the talented fingers of my left hand were hopelessly distracting her. Although I wasn't a betting man, I would have probably put money on the latter. Intending to keep her hovering on the edge of oblivion until the very last spank was administered I took my time with the final ten swats, judging each with precision, skill and timing.

When the final spank had slammed into her backside she was sobbing, but not with pain. Jen was so aroused she was literally crying with frustration. She kept saying 'please' over and over again, and I was pretty certain I knew what would wash the tears away.

'Do you want me inside you?' I purred.

'Yes,' she almost screamed, bucking her hips back to tell me the kind of urgency I should precede with. Unfortunately for her I was in no hurry.

'Then ask me nicely to fuck you.'

There was another scream of mock indignation and she tried to stamp her feet again, but was met with nothing more than a jangle of metal. I really was in love with that bar. Maybe I could get it welded shut around those legs one of these days…

'Mark Matthews, you are the husband from hell. Please will you fuck your wife? Now that you've tormented her for the last hour or so I'm so damn desperate I might have to…'

I never found out what she might have to do. Thrusting inside her with one single swoop she completely lost her voice, and I have to confess that mine also disappeared for a moment or two.

'There, there. Does that feel better?' I asked, when I'd got a hold of myself and managed to find a decent rhythm between us.

'No. It needs to be much harder and much faster,' she panted.

'Too bad,' I said, although my body very much wanted to do the harder and faster thing. 'We're doing this my way. We'll start with slow and easy and work our way up.'

'But I need to come now,' she wailed, and I decided that I liked the sound of my wife wailing, so much so in fact, that I was going to make her wail on a daily basis. I would make it my mission in life. All this sex was going to interfere with my current workaholic ethic, so I'd need to figure that out too. There was going to be lots of change around these parts.

'You'll come when I say you can come and not before,' I growled, biting her earlobe. She sobbed in response, but there wasn't much else she could do. With the bar splaying her legs nice and wide I could pretty much do whatever I liked with her, and when my body was pressed up this close there was nowhere for her to go. Oh happy days.

'Do I have to beg?' The little whimper that escaped her lips was utterly adorable and perfectly timed.

I pretended to think about it. 'Yes, I think you might have to,' I finally conceded, deciding that any kind of begging was absolutely okay with me.

'Please, for the love of God, will you let your wife come?' she yelled. 'Else I might decide to divorce you after all.'

My lips flattened a little at the second sentence. She'd been doing so well to begin with, and it was such a shame to spoil it.

'Better try that again, darling,' I whispered, pinching her clit between my fingers. She was so swollen and wet, and now moved frantically each time my fingers touched her. Jen was more than ready, but I love to drag these things out. Besides, she'd never learn if we didn't do things properly, and I intended to go by the book - for the most part.

'Please, please, please let me come. You can chain me to the bedroom for a month if you'll just let me orgasm. I'm fully prepared to get down on my knees should it please you, Sir.' The emphasis on 'Sir' was quite impressive.

It wouldn't please me, because with the splint on my leg it would be nearly impossible to manoeuvre, but the attempt was a much better one all round and she deserved an eight out of ten for effort.

'Not bad. Now promise that you'll suck my cock at least three times before we go to bed every night and you might be getting somewhere.' What can I say? I couldn't resist winding her up.

'Just give me the damn orgasm! I'll suck you off twenty times a day if it'll make you happy, just let me come...'

The last syllable of 'come' went on forever, and I nearly fucking exploded on the spot. Holding myself back as best as I was able I just managed to utter, 'You may come, Princess.' Then she went off like a rocket and I wasn't even a split second behind her.

After we'd calmed down we somehow managed to haul each other back onto the bed, and I contented myself with exploring every single inch of naked flesh I could find beneath the shimmering red dress she wore. It was a very entertaining game, and even Jen made no complaints.

Married life wasn't half as bad as all my friends made out. I had absolutely no idea why I'd insisted on avoiding the glorious state of matrimony for so long. Whatever we had between us was something special and I intended to hold on to it as tightly as I possibly could.

Chapter Thirty-Three - Jennifer

When I woke up, at least a couple of hours later, Mark was still asleep beside me. The man was so damn hot volcanic lava looked cool, and the best part was that he was all mine. He was going to be an asshole to live with, I already knew that, but there would be plenty of perks to sweeten the deal. The sex was astronomically good and he wasn't a bad guy, truth be told. He might be one of the few men who could keep me safe from my father, and that would be an achievement in itself. As to my mother, well I didn't even know where to start. What did you say to the woman who'd abandoned you? I didn't care about her money, and I didn't much care for her company, considering she'd recently tried to kill my husband, but I guessed I owed her a chance to explain. It was something I didn't want to think about right now. All I wanted to do was snuggle up to my husband and hope he woke up soon. I was hungry again, and not for food.

Talk of the devil, he chose that moment to roll over onto his back and open his eyes, great big chocolate eyes that were filled with heat. I grinned at him. I couldn't help myself. Massive orgasms do that to a girl.

'Shouldn't you be sucking, darling? I wouldn't want you to fall behind on your obligations.' He reached a hand under my backside and squeezed. Yelping, I tried my best to wriggle away, but I was going nowhere fast with that bar still attached.

'I don't believe I promised to do anything,' I said sweetly. 'I might have said a few things in the heat of orgasm, but you can't later rely on that kind of thing. It flits in one ear and flies out of the other.' I batted my eyelashes at him and wondered where he'd go with that.

'You do realise you're still tied up?' he said. I nodded. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. 'Then I should probably torment you silly for the next twenty-four hours and make sure you don't get to come for the next week at least. I could probably add another fifty spanks to your daily tally, as well as…'

'I'm sucking, I'm sucking,' I said petulantly, trying my best to work my way down the bed with legs that didn't want to cooperate. It was kind of amusing to think that we were both crippled for the time being, although for entirely different reasons.

To appease my grumpy husband I wasted no time in getting down to business. Employing every single tactic I'd learned in Albrecht, I had him pretty much exactly where I wanted him in just under three minutes, which was when I stopped.

'Beg me to let you come,' I said looking at him, licking my lips. Yes, I knew I was playing with fire but I couldn't resist.

At first he looked like he was going to throttle me, but then he inhaled a large, shaky breath and said, 'That is not how this works. You can suck or not suck, the choice is entirely yours, but if you fail to deliver on your end of the bargain I'm going to make good on all those threats I issued earlier.' He gave me a wolfish grin. 'I'll thoroughly enjoy myself, too.' He tilted his head slightly as if daring me to take on the challenge.

I was many things, but I wasn't completely stupid. In this relationship I was going to have to pick my battles wisely, and this was not one I needed to win. Besides, I was actually having a whole lot of fun, so I might as well continue.

'Spoilsport,' I uttered. It was the last word I said for some time.

 

Over the next three hours Mark got his three blowjobs and I managed to climax five times. We finally had to stop, because neither of us had the energy to continue without some food inside us.

As my cooking skills were virtually non-existent it was Mark who made dinner. I watched him the whole time, and the smell of whatever he was creating was magnificent. Maybe he'd teach me one day.

'What are you making?' I asked him, unable to hide my grin as he cast his eyes up and down my almost naked body not once but twice before he answered.

'I love that dress,' he purred. 'I'm going to have one made for every day of the week. It makes me hard just looking at it.' He gave me yet another look from top to bottom and I rolled my eyes at him.

'That's another fifty spanks to add to the tally,' he said, winking at me. Moving over towards one of the kitchen chairs I sat my backside down on one gingerly. It still had a rather fiery glow from earlier. I'd already figured out that I was always going to have a bright pink bottom under Mark's roof, and that I'd better get used to my daily spankings. I seemed to put a foot wrong approximately every twenty seconds, so at the rate I was going I would probably still have spankings to work off when I was sixty. It wasn't all bad news though, because there were definite perks to having your backside reddened.

'My apologies, darling. No more eye rolling.' I cast them down demurely and injected just the right amount of sincerity into my voice. I waited silently to see what he would make of that.

Before I knew what was happening an arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me upright, hauling me into his chest. I was so shocked at this display of affection that I blinked stupidly for a minute or two.

'Am I being too hard on you?' he whispered. 'I know it's early days, so if I'm giving you more than you can handle just say the word and I'll ease up. I want you to enjoy this kind of relationship. If you're not enjoying yourself we'll work something else out. I need you to be happy.' The emphasis on 'need' was heart-warming. Mark Matthews really did love me. He was even prepared to compromise. If you'd told me this two weeks ago I'd have laughed in your face.

'I'm just teasing you, sweetheart. I can take all you have to give and more, and I'm enjoying myself immensely, even if you are going to be spanking me well into my retirement,' I said wryly.

Mark squeezed my ass and chuckled. 'I bloody hope so. I would love to grow old with you, Jennifer Matthews.' The cooker timer interrupted that thought and he rushed over to the hob, where he began stirring and mixing things around.

'Which reminds me,' I spoke over the bleeping, 'what is for dinner?'

'A chilli prawn risotto, with sugar snap peas and cherry tomatoes. Oh, and we've got some garlic bread on the side. You might as well sit yourself down and get comfortable.' The look he gave me after that comment was hilarious.

Pressing my bottom once again into the cold white leather chair, I sat up straight and tried not to think about my pounding backside.

'Pull that dress up and then sit down again, sweet pea.'

'If I do that my ass is going to stick to the leather,' I said, and I glanced up at him pleadingly.

'Nice ladies do not say "ass". That's another fifty spanks. But you're right, it is, which is excellent because I'm going to play with you all through dinner. If pulling your butt up off that chair is going to hurt, you're not going to squirm, which means it's far less likely that I'll get sauce down my shirt. Now be a good girl and do as you're told.'

I rolled my eyes again before realising my mistake.

'That's another fifty,' Mark remarked as he put a large plate of the risotto before him with a single knife and fork.

'Are you feeding me dinner?' I was already beyond excited. Mark was going to play with me whilst feeding me. There was no greater heaven on earth.

'Yes. I'm always going to feed you. At the moment you need feeding up. After the poisoning thing you look like a bag of bones - and don't take that the wrong way. You are utterly adorable in every way, but I'm not going to be happy until there is some meat on you. Which brings me to the next topic of conversation.' He fed me a mouthful of risotto using his fork and my taste buds exploded with delight. If it were possible for taste buds to orgasm they were having multiples.

'I'd like at least three babies. What are your thoughts on the matter?'

I then choked on the most delicious thing I had eaten in ages. Why did he have to go and spoil the moment?

'Why not go for an even ten?' I finally remarked, after I'd somehow managed to swallow a mostly un-chewed mouthful of food.

'I'm happy with that if you are. Let's do ten,' he remarked amiably.

I swatted him upside the head. 'Mark, let's take this one step at a time, okay. I'm too young for babies. Give me a year or two and then we'll see. Oh, and the next time you bring up major announcements like that give me a warning for Christ sakes!'

'That's another fifty spanks,' he said, giving me a dark look, but then he brightened. 'I can wait. Now I have you here there is no immediate rush.'

'Glad to hear it,' I said dryly. 'Now how about you continue fattening me up? I was really enjoying that bit.'

If it were possible to be in heaven and hell at the same time, Mark managed to fly me there with ease during dinner. The food was magical but his tormenting fingers were merciless. When we'd eaten the risotto I was hoping he could finish what he'd started, but oh no. We had dessert to get through and it was even more diabolical than the main. It tasted wonderful, some mango and coconut mousse with raspberry coulis, I think. The problem was that Mark delighted in smearing it all over me and then kissing it off. He began with my lips, which was almost bearable, before moving on to arms, inner thighs, breasts and nipples. Then he deposited a rather large portion between my legs and I thought I might kill him. The bastard made me orgasm twice before he had finished it all up. Mark Matthews was going to be the death of me, I swear.

 

Some considerable time later I was in the bathtub, and Mark was soaping my body down with undisguised enthusiasm.

'How on earth did I manage before I met you? I had to wash myself, feed myself, dress myself…' There was a considerable degree of sarcasm in my voice. He appeared not to notice.

'And now all of that is behind you. What a lucky girl you are.' He squeezed the breast he was soaping fondly and continued as if he hadn't heard me. I decided there and then that if all my days were going to be like this, I had chosen my husband fairly well.

'You are going to spoil me rotten,' I whispered, sinking further in the bubbles, and on a whim deciding to blow some of my own.

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. 'You have no idea, Mrs Matthews. I am going to spoil you for any other man, period. You belong to me and I take very good care of what is mine.' There was another squeeze and he added a flick to my nipple to drive his point home. I groaned. I felt like a bitch in heat and had started to think about sex every ten seconds. Was this what it felt like to be a man? I almost snorted at my own joke.

'Well you've managed one day with me, darling. Do you think you can make it through two?'

'You're a pussycat. Bring it on,' I replied with a cheeky twinkle in my eye.

'Ah ha. So you want the old Mark back, already? That can be arranged.'

Although I knew he was joking I suspected that if we stayed married for longer than a week, at some point I was going to get a glimpse of the old Mark here and there. It didn't frighten me, strangely enough. The old Mark turned me on just as much, if not more, though he would be a pain to live with. Hopefully we'd managed to get some kind of balance between the two. Then my thoughts turned back to Michael. Where was he? What was he going to do next? I frowned and turned towards my husband.

It was time to finally bring up the conversation we'd both been avoiding. I needed to clear the air, and it was best if I did it now rather than later.

'My father wants something from you, from us. I'm not sure what. You know there is no love lost between us. I'm his stepdaughter, from a marriage that I thought ended so badly my mother just disappeared. We've since discovered that might not have been exactly how it happened. I've tried to unravel the mystery more times than I can count, with the help of several private investigators, but either Michael or my mother covered up all the loose ends neatly and each clue I had ended up in a dead end. For a while I lived for little else but to serve his purpose.' I sighed.

'So you have no idea what he's up to?' Mark looked thoughtful.

'None. I don't think he's finished with us yet though.' That was a lie. I knew he wasn't finished with us. My father didn't give up that easily.

'He'll be running scared for a bit. After your testimony the authorities will want to speak with him, so he won't show his face round these parts anytime soon. If he's sensible he'll retire to Mexico and hopefully this will be the last we'll ever see of him.' Mark said the words with conviction, mostly for my benefit, but I was pretty sure he didn't believe them any more than I did. If daddy dearest couldn't visit the UK he'd send someone who could. Then again, maybe I was being a little pessimistic. My father wasn't stupid. Perhaps he would stay hidden, and that would be that.

'My mother is after him, so maybe we won't have to worry too much. If she finds him anything he's done to me in the past will seem like child's play.' I shuddered to think what she'd do to him if she got her hands on him. She'd looked pretty mad when I told her the recent string of events that had happened to me. Perhaps my father was the one who should be worried, and not me.

'That reminds me, what did he threaten you with in order to go through with the poisoning?' Mark looked curious, as well he might be. It wasn't every day you married a monster of a billionaire under duress.

'My father has made so many threats it's hard to keep track of them. To get me to marry you he threatened to send me back to Albrecht and have me trained up to black, before I would be sold off. That was still the deal should I divorce you, by the way, which was why that was never an option. To poison you he used the same threat, but just gave it a different twist.'

'I'm listening,' he said grimly.

'I'd go back to Albrecht with Kyle as my trainer,' I whispered.

'That miserable fucking bastard. I'm going to kill your stepfather, Jen, and I hate to say it, but I'll probably enjoy myself. You are not to worry about him. No matter what happens I'll take care of you. You don't have to worry about anything. I will always be there for you. You know that, right?' Mark brought a great big fluffy white towel up to the side of the bath and motioned for me to get out. When I did so he wrapped it around me and lifted me up into his lap. I could get used to this kind of treatment.

'Well I am a little worried, but I think you could probably distract me,' I said, grinning at him. His eyes narrowed immediately, but with mock humour thankfully.

'Why, Mrs Matthews, I do believe I have created a monster.' He managed to sneak his hand between my legs, which were now free of the spreader bar, but I kept them wide open for him anyway. He was doing exactly what I wanted, and I was pretty sure it was in my best interests to keep him happy.

'You are insatiable, Jen. You know that, right?' He dipped his fingers inside me and sure enough, I was once again soaking wet.

'You made the monster,' I said, grinning. 'Now you'll just have to deal with it.'

Thankfully he spent hours and hours doing exactly that. If this was day one of my training under his hand, I couldn't wait to see what day two would bring…

 

The end of Book Two in The Velvet Lies series