Bowles, Jan - Love Slave to the Sicilian Billionaire [Guilty Pleasures 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (8 page)

“It’s never locked.” He raised his brow, wondering how much she really knew about a D/s relationship. He guessed she had a lot to learn. It seemed to him that Ella wanted to blame everyone except herself for her bad behavior. “So, are you saying it’s my fault that you entered without permission?”

Her lips pouted. Gaining in confidence, she replied, “In a way, yes.” She looked around. “Besides, I don’t see anything special about this place. It’s just an empty room with an old chest in the corner. I don’t see why you’re so bothered that I’m in here.”

To keep calm he spoke very slowly. “I see.” Max scanned the playroom intently, as though seeing it for the first time. Behind the large panes of mirrored glass lay his favorite toys. Large pieces of bondage furniture could be maneuvered into position at a moment’s notice. Each time he played in here he set the scene to his own personal desires. With the aid of mood lighting and the right buildup he could create an atmosphere of dominance and surprise for his sub. At the moment it looked very barren and clinical. “Hmm, do I detect disappointment, Ella?”

“Max, I was curious, that’s all. I wanted to know what to expect.”

“Then I take it that you want to continue with our relationship?”

Ella nodded. “Yes, Max. I feel safe here. I haven’t felt this calm for a long time. And you make me feel…”

She shrugged her shoulders and he encouraged. “Go on. We shouldn’t have any secrets from each other.”

A pretty pink color stained her cheeks. “You make me feel incredibly sexy.”

He smiled, pleased by her frankness. “You do know I should punish you for coming in here?”

“Will you?”

Max brushed the beautiful, silky black hair from her huge eyes, and stroked his hand down her cheek. Her feminine presence intoxicated him. He didn’t need to look down to know he had a raging hard-on again. This feeling of power was what he loved the most. He rubbed his thumb over her lips, and then leaned in and kissed her. “Not this time, but be warned. Next time, I won’t be so lenient.” He took hold of her hand and began leading her from the playroom. “Come back to bed, and we’ll discuss this further. There are rules you need to follow without question.”

When they were both settled in the huge bed, and propped comfortably by the pillows, Max spoke. “Tell me what you hope to gain from this relationship, Ella, and then, I’ll tell you what I expect from you.”

“I expect to give myself into your care. So long as I don’t use my safeword, you get to do what you want. I need you to be in charge, Max.”

He chuckled at her naïveté. “Ella, in a way you’re partly right, but this is your sexual journey, not mine. I’m just the facilitator for your fantasies.”

Her jaw dropped open as she stared at him. “You are joking, right? How can that be, when you’re the one with all the power and control?”

“Yes, but I’m confined by your limits and preferences.” Max leaned over and opened a drawer in his bedside cabinet. He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her. “This is my list of what the unenlightened would call deviant practices. Personally, I prefer to think of them as spiritual stepping stones to finding one’s true self. I want you to go through this list and put a cross against the ones, which you do not wish to indulge in. You can grade them if you wish. If it’s something you’d really enjoy rate it a five. By the same token, if it’s something you find wholly unacceptable, then rate it a one. I’m sure you get the picture.” Max had already whittled down the list. There were some things in the BDSM world that were not for him.

“So if I put a cross against this one or rated it a one”—Ella pointed to
wax play
on the list—“you wouldn’t make me do it?”

“Precisely.” He smiled. “And now to my requirements. What I need from you is your complete trust and obedience. If I command you to do something, then you must do it, or face the consequences.”

“You mean you’ll discipline me if I disobey?”

“Yes, I will mete out punishment however I see fit.”

“What if I use my safeword?”

“Then it won’t happen, but if you insist on using your safeword all the time, there wouldn’t be any point to our having a D/s relationship in the first place. What I teach you will broaden your mind. I’ll be unable to do that if you keep using your safeword for every little thing.” Max put his arm around her and she snuggled closer into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. He stroked a hand through her hair, teasing the silky strands with his fingers. “Now the rules. Out of respect for your Master, and while you’re in training, I expect you to wear my mark.”

“Oh?” Ella began idly tracing the masculine hair on his chest.

“Yes. My mark will symbolize the contract we have between us.” He’d enjoy placing a temporary slave collar around her slender neck. Perhaps complemented by a delicate chain around her shapely ankle. Later on, if things progressed as he hoped, he may well expect her to wear a tattoo of his choosing, as a sign of his dominance over her.

“Contract?” Her voice sounded sleepy. After all, it was three thirty in the morning.

“Don’t worry, at lot of the stuff’s symbolic. If you want out, you just have to say, and the D/s relationship can be terminated at any time. Of course, if we move into a more permanent agreement, then that’s a different matter entirely.”

He smiled into her eyes, and kissed her lips. He didn’t want to put any demands on her so soon after their relationship had begun. “Sleep now. In the morning, I’ll drop you off at your house, and you can pick up some fresh clothes and stay here with me. Then we can see how well we get on together. No pressure.”

He heard her breath come out in a long, deep sigh, and she snuggled further into his embrace. “You make me feel so safe, Max,” she whispered. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt so happy.”

Max kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby. You deserve them.” He stared into the darkness, feeling totally content. Ella had been through such a lot lately. If he could bring direction and joy to her life, then that would make him a very happy man.

Chapter Ten

Max guided the Porsche to a controlled stop outside her home and stilled the engine. “I’ll come in with you.”

Ella raised her hand. “There’s no need, Max. I’ll be all right.”

He looked concerned as he studied her. “Are you sure, baby? I don’t have to go to work. I can stay and help you.”

She smiled at him. “I’ll be fine. All I’m gonna do is tidy up. Get some clean clothes and then take a cab back to your place. I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can manage that.”

Max’s face broke into a grin. “Of course you can. Just checking. Don’t be late. I’m taking you to a nice restaurant tonight as a treat.”

Ella leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Max had made love to her again that morning. It had been so agonizingly slow and sensual, she’d come three times. He really knew how to pleasure a woman. “Mmm, restaurant you say. I can’t wait.” She then slid from the car and walked up the drive. As she opened the front door she turned to Max and waved. For the first time since Kirk had died, she felt completely calm and contented as she entered the house.

With no time to waste, she packed fresh clothes and toiletries. She paid special attention when choosing which underwear to take. She knew Max loved her sexy knickers and bras. Once her packing was completed, she began getting rid of the accumulated rubbish she’d allowed to build up in the house.
Such a mess. I’m so ashamed of myself.
She really had let the place get into a state, but then she hadn’t been herself, had she? As she dried the last of the dishes, she realized that she’d gone a whole day without the gory image of Kirk’s bloodied face flashing into her mind. It just showed how relaxed she’d become after spending the night with Max.

In a buoyant mood, she even opened the garage door and peered inside. This was where Kirk had committed suicide, but she felt stronger now, and more able to cope.

It might be a good idea to have a garage sale. That way she could get rid of a lot of unwanted stuff. Her old bicycle lay unloved and unattended in the corner. She hadn’t ridden it since she was a teenager. That could be worth a few bucks.

Half-used tins of household paint sat precariously on a wooden rack. As she tried to make them more secure, her attention was drawn to Kirk’s computer, almost hidden at the back of the shelf. His laptop had always gone everywhere with him. Perhaps he’d made a record of his emotions before his death. In times of crisis people often did things like that. Just as she lifted it from the shelf, she caught sight of a memory stick, poking out from under a tin of paint. No wonder the stack looked ready to topple over.

Ella carefully retrieved the eight-gigabyte USB from under the rusty can. “Hmm, this looks interesting.” She then picked up the laptop and carried it into the house. While the computer was booting up, she made herself a coffee. Out of curiosity, she’d just take a quick look, and then call a cab to take her back to Max’s place.

When she started sifting through the files, she found Kirk’s laptop contained all their old photographs. Ella sniffled as she sipped at her coffee. They
had
been happy—once. She drifted her fingers over the screen as she clicked from one photo to another. Kirk had a great personality. He was always smiling. Then he’d changed. He just didn’t want to continue with their marriage. Ella hadn’t, either. Besides, he was hardly there anyway. He spent most of his time abroad. They were only really together for about two months of each year. What was the point in prolonging a loveless marriage? In the end, they’d come to a decision to get a divorce. It had all seemed perfectly amicable at the time.

As she scanned the files she came across Joey’s e-mail address. Joey had been Kirk’s best buddy in the Marines. On the spur of the moment she decided to send him an e-mail, asking to see him when he next returned to the US. Joey had wanted to speak to her at Kirk’s funeral, but for one reason or another, he didn’t. Maybe she’d get to hear what he’d wanted to say. After writing a brief message, she sent the e-mail and then returned to checking the files.

There didn’t seem to be any indication as to Kirk’s lack of well-being on the laptop. There were no desperate pleas for help, or references to suicide in his e-mails. There was nothing depressive that pointed to a fragile emotional state. Ella plugged the memory stick into the USB port and waited for the files to load. She took a sip of coffee, cradling the warm mug in her hands for comfort. It may well prove a dead end, but there was no harm in looking.

Once the files had loaded, she scanned the folders. Most of it was copies of their photographs for safekeeping. There were pictures of their wedding day. They both looked so happy then. She couldn’t help but smile when she came across a selection of images from their memorable holiday in Hawaii some four years ago. They’d had a lovely, magical time. She sighed. How did it all go wrong? When she came across a folder named
Kathy
, she couldn’t resist clicking on it. Inside were more than fifty photos of a beautiful young woman in army fatigues. Aged about twenty-seven, and with golden blonde hair tied in a ponytail, she smiled back from every image. Her heart sunk when she noticed several pictures of Kathy and Kirk holding each other. In some of them, they were passionately kissing. They both looked so very happy together.

Fuck.

When Kirk had returned from Afghanistan after his first tour of duty, she’d noticed he’d changed. He hadn’t come anywhere near her in the bedroom. She’d put it down to stress and fatigue, but each time he’d returned from active service after that, he’d been the same. She’d decided to confront him, asking him outright if he was seeing another woman. He’d denied it. The photographs said different. Why had he lied?

Fuck.

She needed a drink. Her hands shook with anger as she stood and walked to the liquor cabinet. She poured herself a tequila, and then topped it off with fresh orange juice from the refrigerator. There were some personal e-mails in the folder, too. Dare she read them? Nothing could stop her now. Ella knocked back the tequila in one swallow, and then sat down at the computer. She wanted to know what that dirty little army slut and her husband had been up to. Feeling incredibly angry she opened the first one.