CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“He did what?” I asked, my phone pressed hard to my ear.
Alone in Noah’s apartment, I wore a silk robe the color of cherry blossoms, which he had left for me. I talked to Julia while I looked out on the city, counting the lights that dotted the skyline as rain tapped against the window. Noah was still at his office, but I was meant to wait for him here. With the gentleness of the rain, it was serene.
“He asked me if I wanted to meet his parents,” Julia sputtered. “It’s a little soon for that, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve only been dating a few weeks. I’m not sure we’re ready for that.”
“Then don’t meet his parents,” I counseled. “If you want to wait, it’s okay. Don’t rush it.”
“This is prom night all over again,” she cracked. “But you’re right. It’s okay to go at my own pace.” Pausing, she hummed. “Funny, now that I say it out loud, I do kind of want to meet his parents. I just had to know I had the choice. Thanks.”
“That’s what sisters are for,” I said, tracing a drop of rain as it drizzled down the window.
“I’m nervous,” she admitted. “I mean, I don’t have a family of my own. I’m not in contact with any of the foster parents I lived with growing up. If this progresses as far as it might, then his family could potentially one day be my family. That kinda freaks me out.”
My heart melted for her. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll love you.”
“It’s not about whether they like me; it’s about whether I like them.”
In good humor, I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me. “Well, I’m sure you’ll like them. And if you don’t, remember it’s about you and Ronald. It’s not about anyone else. It’s not about his family or your family. Or his lack of family or your lack of family. It’s just about you two.”
“You’re so wise,” she said, her voice almost a sigh. “How come you didn’t attend Harvard? I wish we had been roommates in college. Can you imagine the stories we’d have to share?”
“We already have stories we can share,” I said as my line beeped. “Hey Julia, that’s Peter. He might have a message from Noah. Do you mind if we talk later?”
“Go. Be happy. Be free.”
I smiled, knowing she said so only because she was happy and free.
“Hi,” I said, answering the line.
In reply, I heard a very boyish shout. “I loooove you!” Peter declared. “I love you, and I’m not afraid to admit it. But like a sister, of course. It’d be weird otherwise. Thank you so much for giving me Gloria’s number. Gloria is, well, she’s glorious. I’m so excited!”
Giggling, I wondered if he had illegally chugged down a bottle of bourbon. “I’m glad you guys hit it off. Are you still at the office?”
“Yeah. It’s really intense with the convention next week. I could drop a needle, and I would probably startle the entire building.”
“Don’t let it ruin your good mood,” I said, yawning.
He heard it. “Get some rest. You’ll need it before the convention. We all will.” Without another word, he hung up.
It was the first time I’d been alone in the apartment for so long. By making me wait here, I wondered if Noah was putting me in a cage, his little bird that he was keeping track of. But no. Noah didn’t like cages. Requiring me to obey his rules was his way of setting me free.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be as free as everyone thought I did. If settling down meant being trapped, maybe living in a cage wasn’t so bad. A cage was safe. It protected those inside. And their families.
Needing a distraction from my thoughts, I explored rooms I had never been in. Given everything he demanded of me, I figured I was at liberty to hunt around. But there was nothing really of interest, just a lot of expensive things tucked away in expensive cabinets, never to see the light of day. But Noah wasn’t about the day. He was about the night.
Eventually, I made my way into Noah’s bedroom and to a closet door that he never opened when I was around. It was the width of his mattress with sliding walnut doors that matched the railings of his headboard. Intrigued, I went to the closet, but it was locked. Not one to back down from a challenge, I took a hair pin from my pocket and tried to jimmy it open, but it wouldn’t budge.
“You know you can’t break into a digital lock with a hair pin,” Noah said, finding me in the room.
I whirled around, my heart leaping when I saw him, but not because I was embarrassed. My snooping was his fault for leaving me alone for so long. Curiosity was bound to get the better of me. It was his pure masculinity, the power of his smile, and the smolder in his eyes that made me breathless.
“What’s in there?” I asked, pointing toward the closet.
“I’m so glad you asked,” he said, undoing his tie and tucking it away in a drawer with others, all neatly lined up in a row. “Tonight’s lesson is pain tolerance.”
I nearly sank onto the floor.
“I don’t like the sound of that. I’ve experienced enough pain in my life,” I said defiantly, straightening my spine.
“You’ve experienced emotional pain, but I’m talking about physical pain, the kind that can bring you pleasure. Trust me and soon all you’ll know is incredible joy.”
He punched a code into the lock, and the door to the closet slid open. My knees went weak when I saw what was inside, and I fell to the bed, winded. Unlike Stafford Scientific and almost everything else Noah owned, there was nothing futuristic about the closet. It was as if he’d opened a portal to medieval times. Whips, straight-jackets, and muzzles hung imperiously from long racks that stretched the length of the closet. These weren’t nice toys. There were no pink bunnies or colorful little vibrators. They were sleek, and they were mean.
“I don’t want to do this,” I baulked. “I think this is one level too far.”
“I promised you joy, and I meant it. I won’t hurt you. If you feel at all frightened, you can tell me to stop. This is something we can experience together.”
Already alarmed, I looked away, unable to face whatever torture he had designed for me. “Noah, please. I can’t.”
“You can.” With his gaze fixed on me, silently reassuring me, he moved closer. “Have I ever made you feel anything but euphoric?”
“No,” I answered truthfully.
He knelt in front of me and cupped his strong hands on the sides of my face, steadying me. “That’s because everything I do is for your benefit.”
Peering past his shoulder, back into the closet, I saw something that enticed me. Hanging next to the whips was a set of shackles, chains that could bind a person down. I could be Andromeda. I could be the Chained Maiden.
“I can tell you when to stop?” I asked, my curiosity defeating my fear.
“Yes. Anytime.”
“Are we supposed to think of a word or something?”
He grinned. “No, you can just say stop. This isn’t a fetish. It’s a lesson. The more pain you can tolerate, the more pleasure you can experience.”
Standing, I strode into the closet, straight to the chains. “Only if you restrain me with these,” I said, running my hand beneath them until they swayed against the wall.
Noah beamed, lust radiating off of him as bright as the sun. “That’s a condition I’ll gladly oblige,” he agreed, needing no coercion. “Now come here.”
Bringing the chains with me and setting them on the bed, I faced Noah, allowing him to take charge. Kneeling before me, he wrapped his arms around my waist, behind the wings of my robe. I wasn’t wearing a bra, only a red lace thong, the color of cherries, leaving my breasts exposed and at his mercy. He rubbed his nose against my nipples then grazed them slightly with his tongue, but then he turned his focus to my naval, lightly biting and licking the skin around it as he lifted his arms, forcing my robe to slide off my shoulders.
Rising, he kissed me, his tongue fiercely wrestling mine, reminding me of his strength and dominance. Molten, I shuddered in his arms, powerless to him. With his sovereignty over me, he grabbed the chains from the bed and clasped the cuffs around my wrists. They were heavy, dragging my arms down, but not as heavy as my desire.
“You’ll enjoy this,” he declared, kissing each wrist then surprising me by taking the tie from my robe and wrapping it around my eyes.
Blindfolded, I could sense everything around me — the softness of the rug beneath my bare feet, the gentle caress of the air conditioner on my back, and the musky cologne Noah wore, the scent of which made my core flush its needy yearnings across my body. Inhaling it, my knees felt weak and achy, eager to feel his flesh against mine, to wallow in more of his luscious kisses.
With the strength of his sturdy, virile arms, Noah picked me up and sat me on the bed, arranging my body until I was on all fours, my knees sinking into the cushion of the mattress, molding me as if I were made of rubber.
“Keep your back straight,” he ordered, his low sexy voice a pendulum that entranced me, made me his slave.
The bed shook, and I heard the click of the chains being secured to the railings of his headboard. Moments later, Noah’s breath was vapor on my thighs as he pulled the lace of my thong to the side, exposing my pink flesh until I was completely at his mercy. Torturing me, he traced the borders of my crevasse with a moistened finger, slowly circling around until I was sodden, impatient for him to taste me. Turning onto his back, he slid between my legs until his lips and tongue were close to my opening, I was tempted to press down on his face, but that went against the rules. I was his chained maiden. He was my lord.
Digging his fingers into my backside, he held me in place, a statement of the ultimate authority he had over me. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. Long and slow, he finally stroked my inner folds with his tongue, his exploration of me intimate and plundering. Moaning as he lapped my inner lips, I bucked my hips and arched my back, my body buzzing with delirious carnality.
Gripping my ass tighter, he moved on to my clit, circling his tongue around the bud as I dripped my arousal into his mouth. Rapacious, he devoured me, spurring a joy that connected my pussy to the rest of my body to a point of near explosion. Whimpering with ecstasy, I tried to touch him, but my chains clinked against the headboard, preventing me from moving, leaving me to swim greedily in rapture as my clit swelled.
When he slipped his tongue into my opening, churning in and out, my body reached its breaking point. A gush of euphoria washed over me, and I came, crying out my gratification.
“Imogen,” he murmured. “Every part of you is so beautiful.”
Behind the blindfold, I couldn’t see where he was going. I could only hear the rustle of the bed sheets as he prepared to continue the lesson. My thighs were wet, but I was ready for more of his raw sex, my breath like a gale. Nearby, a drawer opened and closed, and the sound of a wrapper being torn opened invaded the room.
Soon, Noah’s hands encircled my ankles, and he pulled me down so that I was resting on my stomach, the mattress like a cloud beneath my breasts. Rock hard, his cock skimmed the back of my thigh, prodding me, exploring his options. There were two openings available to him, and I couldn’t care less which one he chose. I just wanted his cock inside of me, filling me, making me whole.
A cold gel splattered onto my legs, and I jolted then relaxed, enjoying the way it made my skin tingle. He rubbed the gel over my ass and between my thighs, kindling my flesh, making it pulse viciously. Coated with the lubricant, he slid his finger around the rim of my ass, testing my sensitivity. My nerve endings lit, it was as arousing as if he was raiding my pussy. I arched my back, opening up to him, inviting him to spear me at his will.
“You temptress,” he rasped and sank a finger into me. I cried out when he added another, scissoring them to stretch me, make me ready for him.
Roughly, he hooked his arm around my waist and angled my backside up to meet his cock, my thong still pushed to the side. I pulled against the chains but couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, as his cock pushed between the cheeks of my ass.
“Breathe, Imogen,” he urged me as he pushed, and the very tip of him penetrated the first layers of my anus. The pressure was excruciating, stretching me out, but it was also sinfully pleasing. Breathing heavy, I waited with fervid anticipation for him to plunge himself all the way into me, but he held back. Instead, he used his free hand to find my engorged clit as his tip continued to tease me. Supporting myself on my elbows, I pushed back, impaling myself on his cock. I cried out as I stretched around him, taking the entire head. Stopping, I gave my body more time to adjust.
“Mmm, so tight. So beautiful,” he said, a hand tracing down my spine.
His words encouraged me, and I forced my body to relax. Pain and pleasure warred with each and I wanted more. So much more.
“Naughty girl,” he chastised as I pressed back farther, taking another inch. I yelped as his hand came down on my exposed flesh and the sound of it cracked around the room. “Your sweet ass isn’t ready to feel all of me, not yet.”
I groaned in disappointment and relief when he pulled out. There was another rip of what sounded like a new condom, then he was back, rolling us onto our sides. He plunged, this time into my pussy, using his hold on my waist to sink so deep. My arms were lifted in the air, bound by the chains, allowing me the freedom to once again indulge in the pleasure he sent shooting up my spine each time he collided into me, a jolt that heightened my electricity.
With a steady pace, he fucked me, piercing my flesh with his firm warmth. Unraveling one arm from my waist, he cupped my breast and pinched my nipple, tugging it, causing a fire to radiate from my breast to my shoulder and down to my already swollen core. A tremor took over my body as I approached my climax, and I oscillated my hips against his, increasing the force of impact of his cock within me. He fucked me hard, causing the bed to shake, until we both moaned in orgasm, my pussy clenching over him as we came.
Gasping, I shuddered and sank into his arms as far as the chains allowed. With a feather-light touch, he stroked the patch of skin beneath my ear, recovering. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “That was the pleasure. Next comes the pain.”
“I’m ready,” I told him, ravenous for more.
“Later,” he said, sliding out of me. “I have to go to work for a little while. I’ll be back soon.” The bed shifted as he got off.
“You’re just going to leave me like this?”
“I’ll do as I please,” he said, sounding as if he were across the room. “No more talking. You’re forbidden from saying another word until I release you to.”
I exhaled, trying to remain calm. “Can you at least take the blindfold off?”
There was no answer. Noah was gone.
***
Footsteps revealed that Noah had returned. I had no idea what hour it was. I existed in an eternal night. The clatter of an object being set on the side table pinched at me after I’d acclimatized to the silence of being alone. Forbidden to speak, I mentally willed him to say something so that I could hear the comfort of his voice, even knowing he was about to bring me pain.
Sloshing noises sparked my interest, and then a damp washcloth coasted across my thigh, cleansing me. The water was warm, relaxing my muscles while invigorating the heat in my body. With tender, affectionate strokes, Noah glided it up towards my navel and down between my thighs, refreshing my body before the lesson to come, as if purifying a sacrifice for the gods.
Dropping the washcloth back into what I assumed was a bowl of water based on the noise, he finished bathing me. Seconds later, there was a sharp tug as he unhooked my chains from the headboard and yanked me off the mattress. With my wrists protruding forward, he paraded me out of the bedroom. A floral fragrance filtered across the hall, and as I walked, the pads of my feet stepped upon what felt like the smooth surface of flower petals. It was impossible to know which ones while blindfolded, but history made me suspect they were lotus blossoms. Their scent and shape were familiar from my first night at the club.
We turned into a room that was stuffy and humid, lacking fresh air. I’d walked the halls enough to recall the layout of the penthouse. Three rooms were completely windowless — the one with the single piece of art, a storage room that was overstuffed with neatly organized boxes, and a round room that stood empty.
Standing behind me, Noah grazed my neck with his kisses, moving up to my earlobe, which he playfully nibbled at before removing the blindfold. “You may speak now,” he permitted.
The light was dim, a soft yellow glow, but it hurt my eyes. It took a while for them to adjust after the darkness of the blindfold. We were in the round room. With the exception of the lotus blossoms, there was nothing within it. Did Noah mean to lock me in here, making it my own personal torture chamber? I shuddered thinking about it. The last few hours, however long they may have been, had been agony enough.
“I don’t understand,” I said, fretful. “What is this about?”
“Endorphins,” Noah revealed and led me to the back of the room, where for the first time I noticed a radiator that was the width of a coffee table. White like the walls, it had been camouflaged.
“Endorphins?” I asked. “Those are pleasure hormones. I thought this part of the lesson was about pain.”
“It is, but when I tell you pleasure and pain are closely related, I don’t mean it in simple terms. It’s biological. You can use pain to stimulate endorphins.”
Untwisting the ends of the chain so that it was split in two, he fastened each to opposite sides of the radiator so that my arms were spread out and I faced the wall, my chestnut hair falling in waves down my bare back, almost touching the string of my thong.
“I’m going to flog you, Imogen,” Noah revealed.
I gasped. “You’re going to beat me?”
“Of course not. There is a sting, but it’s not violent. It’s like being spanked, but with an implement.”
I swallowed nervously. “I think I’d rather be spanked by hand.”
“In time,” he replied with his thick provocative throatiness and walked out of the room, leaving me to fear the worse about what he was going to do to me.
Like when he’d gone to work, he used time to torture me. Foreplay, it ticked on for what seemed like an eternity but was likely less than an hour before he returned.
Across my arm, strands of leather lightly brushed my skin. Like a palm tree, they were attached to a rich ebony handle. The flogger didn’t seem savage, not when it currently tickled my skin, ripening the nerves that carried pleasure through my body.
Beside me, as he enticed me with the flogger, Noah was as immaculate as when he’d left for the office. He no longer wore his suit jacket, but his dress shirt was pristine, a match to his perfect white teeth. He was so robust and sexy that I sometimes had trouble believing he’d chosen me. I gladly handed my body over to him, even if he turned out to be a gorgeous sadist.
Circling behind me, he moved my hair aside with a tender fondness, exposing my back.
“Beg,” he ordered. “Tell me what you would do for the pleasure I’m about to deliver. Tell me you want it.”
I did want it. The pain and the reward. My body quivered, the brew of fear and anticipation intoxicating my mind more than alcohol ever could.
“I’ll do anything, sir,” I answered.
He grabbed me around the waist, his teeth sinking into my shoulder before he kissed and licked the pain away. “Do you give yourself to me?”
“All of myself,” I whispered, shaking. “I’m yours.”
Empty air replaced him as he stepped back, and before I could brace myself, he lashed me on the meat of my buttocks. I yelped, but more out of surprise than pain. It stung, but it was tolerable.
Another lash. Blood rushed down to my core, and as I breathed through the pain, I began to understand why the flogger was an implement of desire. The sting of the lash caused endorphin-infused blood to pump through my hips and thighs, inciting an insatiable need for release.
Struck a third time, even harder, I cried out as gluttonous satisfaction rushed through my body, swelling my pussy and breasts, awakening me in a way that was powerful and delicious.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he said huskily after he’d lashed me several more times.
I wanted to tell him I hadn’t. That I wanted more.
Before I could find the words, he placed one hand on the handle of the flogger while the other clutched the leather strands together. He tucked the implement between my legs and rubbed my clit with it, sawing the material back and forth until I combusted, my sap covering the leather with my convulsions.
“See,” he said, caressing my backside lightly with the flogger, a gentleness after the severity of his lesson. “Everything I do is for you.”