‘Just an old friend,’ he said. He’d got out a bottle of whiskey, and was pouring himself a glass.
‘She’s beautiful.’ I couldn’t help a pang of jealousy.
‘She’s very like you, as a matter of fact,’ he said, coming up behind me. He put my wine into my hand, and let his hand drop to my hip. ‘She’s not…around anymore.’
‘Dead?’
He nodded, and raised his glass. ‘To Aimee,’ he said. ‘For whom I do all the things I do.’
On that cryptic note, he steered me back over to the sofa.
‘Sit down, Miss Anderton,’ he said.
I sat down on the sofa.
‘Stand up.’
‘Is this some sort of game?’ I said, as I got, once again, to my feet.
‘Not exactly,’ he said, regarding me with a certain degree of amusement.’Now sit down.’
I sat down again. ‘Does this serve any purpose?’
‘Yes, very much so,’ he said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. ‘It makes me think Alex may have been right in his assessment of you.’
‘Which was what, exactly?’ I couldn’t remember what he’d said. I’d been almost hysterical when I’d left the playroom.
‘That you’re submissive,’ he said and looked down at me, amused. ‘Didn’t you know?’
‘I’m no such thing.’ I took a sip of wine and glared at him.
‘Spirited,’ he said, with a smile. ‘But you do asyou’re told, which is often a sign. Stand up.’
‘I won’t.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘A challenge,’ he said. ‘I like it.’
‘It’s not funny,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Stand up, Miss Anderton.’
I stood up and then, when I realised what I’d done, I went to sit down again.
‘No,’ he said, and I stopped in my tracks. He looked up at me, amused again. ‘Now I’m giving you permission, you may sit down.’
I was tempted to stay on my feet, just to spite him, but in the end, I sat down, disgruntled. He was playing games with me again, and just when it’d seemed we were getting somewhere. To make matters worse, each time he’d ordered me about, I’d been dimly aware of my clit twitching in response. I shouldn’t be getting turned on by this – I really shouldn’t – but for some reason, I was, and it only served to make me crosser.
Whether he’d sensed I wasn’t amused, or whether it was playing on his mind too, he took a sip of whiskey and then changed the subject.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘About tonight. Did you really think I’d done all that purely for my enjoyment?’
I looked down at my wine. ‘I suppose not, no.’
‘I derived no satisfaction whatsoever from…’ He paused and drank some whiskey. ‘…what happened.’
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly.’
‘But,’ I said. ‘You didn’t try to stop me.’
‘Not true,’ he said. ‘I did try. I asked you to think carefully. Christ, I even begged you not to ask me for it, and I’ve never once begged in my life.’
He spoke steadily but he looked choked and, for the first time, I really understood.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, in little more than a whisper. ‘But you could’ve told me how you felt.’
‘I thought it was obvious,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘And you still persisted with your one-woman ride to ruin. In the end, I knew I had to wait it out, and hope that you came to me.’ He frowned. ‘I’d just about given up hope.’
‘Well…’ I put down my wine. ‘Here I am.’
‘And not a moment too soon.’
He pulled me up from the couch and took me in his arms, tilting his head to nuzzle at my neck. I tipped my head back and leaned in towards him, pressing my body against his as if I could melt into him. His lips traced a path up my neck and across my cheek, his stubble brushing it as his lips sought mine. As they found my mouth, I opened it eagerly, desperate to taste his tongue, to probe his mouth with mine. He moved one hand up, behind my neck, cradling my head as he kissed me greedily. The other, he used to pin my hips to his, in promise of what was to come.
For the first time that night, I felt the true thrill of passion igniting my clit and, when he pulled away and whispered, ‘Shall we go to bed?’ I only nodded, desperate to kiss him, to feel him, to touch him again.
Forty Two
Her
We made our way clumsily to the bedroom, knocking into the sideboard and various doorframes on our way, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be in his arms, wrapped in his embrace, and I couldn’t bear to let him go. I’d never felt such desire for anyone. It was so all encompassing I could barely breathe.
When we finally made it into the bedroom, he stopped and pulled away from me. It was panelled in wood, like so much of the Castle, and an ornate four-poster bed stood in the middle.
‘A bit ostentatious,’ he murmured in my ear. ‘But typical of this place and eminently suitable for what I have in mind.’
‘And that is?’
‘Do you really want to know, Miss Anderton?’
‘I do.’
‘Then, I’ll show you.’
I reached out to him again, aching to feel his warmth, but he stepped back.
‘Now, now,’ he said. ‘No touching.’
‘None?’ I said. It came out as a strangled gasp. I needed to touch him so badly. I needed to feel him against me, to run my hands over his chest, to put them to his back and pull him to me.
‘None.’
I was standing away from the bed and he circled around me.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘Where shall we begin?’
He bent down and took hold of the bottom of my dress. ‘Arms up, Miss Anderton,’ he said.
As he pulled my dress up and over my head, I moved, trying desperately to feel the touch of his hands…his body…anything, but he was too deft and evaded my every move.
‘Beautiful,’ he breathed, running his hands across my breasts. ‘Arms by your sides, now.’
‘I thought you said no touching?’ I said, reaching out to return the contact.
‘Come now, Miss Anderton, or I’ll be forced to cuff you.’ He frowned at me, amused.
I felt my eyes widen, and the tingling in my clit growing fiercer, as I reluctantly let my arms fall to my sides.
‘You don’t get to tell me what to do,’ he said, walking round behind me. His voice came next from behind my ear. ‘I can do as I please.’
‘Oh! Can you?’
‘In here,’ he amended. ‘You? You do as you’re told.’
He hooked his fingers in the sides of my panties, and slowly pulled them down the length of my legs until they were on the floor.
‘Step out of them, Angel.’
‘But I still have my heels on.’ I couldn’t see him, only feel his breath on my neck.
‘I know,’ he said, coming round to face me, as I stepped out of my panties. ‘And you look breath-taking.’
He ran his hands over my breasts again, and then let one continue its way down to my clit. As soon as I felt his fingers brush it for the first time, it ached for him, like every other part of my body was aching for him. The other hand he brought up to my mouth.
‘Now, I’m letting you touch me,’ he said. ‘On my terms.’
He held out one finger to me. ‘Open wide, Miss Anderton,’ he said, brushing my lips with it.
My lips parted of their own accord, and I stuck out my tongue, trying to lick it.
‘What’s this, Angel?’ he said, in mock reproval. ‘Are you being defiant?’
‘No, Sir,’ I said. I don’t know where it came from – whether it was from hearing his staff addressing him that way, or something else – but it seemed so natural. ‘No, Sir.’
‘But you poked your tongue out at me,’ he said, almost whispering. ‘And that was bad.’
‘Was it, Sir?’ I giggled, even as my body strained towards him, my mouth seeking to catch his finger.
‘Very definitely.’ He came round to the side of me, still trailing his finger across my face, teasing my open mouth. ‘And you know what happens to bad girls?’