Freed (7 page)

“That one’s easy,” she told me. “When I worked in the mall in Cleveland, I used to have a supervisor.” She shuddered. “Horrible, obnoxious woman. She was always watching me with her beady little eyes, letting me go on break five minutes too late, and wanting me back right away. She used to take one vacation a year on a cruise ship, but she'd never go on the shore excursions.” She grimaced. “The cities were always dirty or smelly or crowded to her. I think I’ll always associate a cruise with her.”

I laughed. “I’ll take you sailing,” I offered. “I learned how to sail in boarding school. We were right next to a lake.”

“Of course you did,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes at me.  

Ah, we were back to teasing me about my wealth. “Come here,” I told her, gesturing to the seat next to me.

Ellie / Jenny:

I moved and sat next to him. A familiar heat settled over my body. For most of my life, sexual desire had been terrifying to me, but with Alexander, I didn’t feel afraid, just wanted. No hidden agendas, no secret plots.

Bullshit
, I scolded myself.
Of course we both have secrets. I just don’t know what his are.

I had to keep reminding myself I was here only for Dylan. Alexander was starting to become a major distraction. The professional in me rebelled at this deviation from the plan. All I should have cared about was getting to Hanoi.

But underneath the professional was a woman who, against all odds, could still feel arousal and need. That woman wanted this. She wanted to lean against his body and pretend that nothing else existed. I hadn’t known I was weak this way. The night with Alexander in Paris two years ago should have given me a clue, but there had been no one since and some part of me had dismissed that warm summer evening as an aberration. Yet being with him now proved it hadn’t been an aberration at all. No matter who he was, no matter how reprehensible his chosen companions were, I still wanted Alexander.

“A hundred thoughts are churning through your brain,” he said quietly. “Relax,
cherie
. Read me another question from your book.” His fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. He held a piece of cheese to my lips. “Eat.”

I opened my lips and swallowed the morsel, whimpering in appreciation as the flavours swirled around my tongue.

“Ah, Jenny, you are going to drive me insane.” He took a sip of his wine, his eyes locked onto mine.

I gulped. Desire rose, swift and certain, as I took in the heat in his eyes. But we were on the train and Alexander’s bodyguards were only a compartment away. We were bound to be overheard. Besides, while I wanted him, I also wanted to take advantage of his current mood. He was talking to me and answering my questions and there was so much I wanted to know about him.

The mission is the most important thing,
I reminded myself. He could reveal something that could be useful to Lucien.

“Another question?”

He smiled a slow, panty-melting smile. “Doesn’t your magazine have any more?” He gestured to the issue of Cosmopolitan I held between my suddenly nerveless fingers.

I brought my attention to it with difficulty. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“A therapist,” he replied. His fingers reached for another of the boxes Elodie had packed and opened the lid. A dozen chocolate-dipped strawberries nestled within. My lips parted instinctively and he smiled. “Want one,
cherie
?”

I nodded and he fed me a piece of fruit. A bit of chocolate must have lingered on my lips, because his thumb came up and wiped it away.

A sharp flare of attraction swept over me. I opened my mouth and sucked in his finger and he inhaled. “Why did you want to be a therapist?” I asked him, in a frantic effort to stop myself from jumping him.  

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” His eyebrow rose. “I want you.” His hand closed around my wrist, and he pulled my fingers over his erect dick. I traced the hard outline through his pants, my eyes locked on his.

“There are people around,” I whispered, trying for common sense.

“No one will interrupt us if you keep quiet,” he promised. His thumb brushed again at my lower lip, then made its way lower. My skin sparkled at his touch.

I groaned and reached for him, putting my arms around his neck and dragging him closer. My lips collided with his with urgent need. He made a surprised sound and his eyes held a trace of curiosity in them. He wasn’t used to me making the first move. Neither was I, but at that moment, I couldn’t take his teasing caresses. I needed carnal fucking. I needed Alexander to take me so hard that I forgot everything else.
Even though I’d never really been able to forget.

“I don’t want to wait,” I whispered harshly. “I don’t want to be teased. Fuck me.”

His eyes had an answering fire in them. “Jenny,” he said. “How very unsubmissive of you.”

My hands reached under my dress for my panties and I slid them off, putting them boldly in Alexander’s pocket. His fingers responded by unbuckling his belt, unzipping his trousers, pulling his pants and briefs down his hips in a fluid move. “Condom,” he ground out.

“Where?” I couldn’t form longer sentences. Not when I was gripped by a need so intense that I thought I would combust in sheer arousal.

He reached for his wallet that he’d tossed on the small tray-table and pulled a foil packet out. I took it from him. “Let me,” I murmured, tearing it open. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock and rolled the condom on with my other hand.

“Fuck,” he groaned. His head fell back and his eyes clenched shut.

“Not yet,” I quipped. I swung a leg over his thighs and positioned my pussy above his dick, lowering myself on his length. “Now. Fuck.”

So full. I felt so full. I could feel every hard inch of his cock. Every move I made sent a tight coil of pleasure through my body. I ground myself on him, ignoring everything else except this frantic, unwise need.

His hands gripped my hips, the fabric of my dress bunching in his hands. His eyes met mine. “Let me guess,” he said. “You are really attracted to therapists.”

I laughed. “I think it was the chocolate dipped strawberries,” I responded. “I’m a sucker for chocolate.”

His mouth captured a still-clothed nipple and sucked through the fabric. My hips raised and lowered in an age-old dance and when he moved his fingers to find my clitoris, it was too much.

I didn’t remember to ask for permission. I didn’t care. I just allowed myself to find my release.

“Bad girl,” he chided. His hands didn’t let me slack off. Again and again, he lifted me up and slammed me down on his shaft. My nails dug into his shoulder as I was engulfed by overwhelming intensity. My muscles clenched and pulsed around him and he choked off his own groan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rasped out. He grabbed my hips and thrust into me, three extra-hard strokes and then he exploded.

“Umm.” As my urgent need drained from me, I was suddenly shy. What had come over me? I had never, ever wanted to do something like that. Never let my desire consume me.

His hand held the condom in place as I rose from his lap. He pulled it off and knotted it, before tossing it in the small waste-bucket at the side. I reached for some paper towels that Elodie had helpfully packed and handed him one. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I had no idea what had come over me, and he had been right. I had displayed some very
unsubmissive
behaviour indeed.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally, looking at the floor intently.

“For what?” He sounded puzzled.

“For jumping you. For being a bad submissive.”

“For coming without permission,” he prompted. There was a smile in his voice.

“That as well,” I blushed.

“I liked it,” he said frankly. “I liked knowing you wanted me enough to break all the rules.” He chuckled. “But my cock needs some recovery time if you are going to react like this every time I feed you a strawberry.”

My lips twitched reluctantly. I reached for my panties, the scrap of lace peeking out of his pocket but he shook his head. “Leave it,” he ordered. He tucked himself back into place. “Tell me what you wanted to be when you grew up.”

Oh. I’d forgotten. “I just wanted to go to college. We weren’t rich, but I was hoping for a scholarship. Without a college degree, all I could see in my future were jobs working retail.” I made a face. “While I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do, I knew it wasn’t that.”

He shot me a look. “You said you quit a retail job to take care of your sister?” he asked.

A tingle of fear ran through me. His memory was formidable. I remembered precisely where I’d said those words to him. We’d been in Bangkok, eating street food. It had been one sentence in a conversation that had ranged on many subjects and he hadn’t forgotten.

I said something in reply and launched into some stories of the customers I’d encountered when I’d worked at Victoria’s Secret. Our conversation then shifted to what I wanted to do in the south of France this week.

Travel plans made for a much safer topic of discussion. I expressed a desire to see as much art and history as possible. This part of the world was chock-full of Roman ruins that I’d always wanted to explore. Constantly moving from one mission to another, I hadn’t had a lot of time for tourism.

My subconscious remained alert, jolted by that casual reference to my sister. He was easy-going. He laughed a lot, but it would still be a mistake to underestimate Alexander Hamilton.

Ellie / Jenny:

The instant I laid eyes on the farmhouse, I could see why Alexander thought of it as home. Even though the house was empty and dark, it breathed solidity. It had been there for centuries. There was a sense of permanence about the place. Growing up, shunted away to boarding school when he was just a child, spending summers in Provence and winters with his father, Alexander must have craved that sense of belonging that he had never had.

Alexander moved with easy familiarity, turning on the lights through the house. “It’s late,” he said. “I can show you the house tomorrow if you’d prefer to see it in the daylight.”

I looked around with curiosity. We were in the kitchen, a large space with an old-fashioned copper range and a massive wooden table in the middle of the room. “This is nice,” I said. “But yeah, I can wait for the tour until the morning.”

“I used to sit here and eat cookies,” he volunteered with a small smile. “I have so many memories of this place. Some good, others, not so much.”

“Is your aunt still alive?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “She died five years ago,” he replied. “She left me the farm in her will.”

“She didn’t leave it to your father?” I probed. Alexander talked about him so rarely. Everything he had said had alluded to the fact that they had a difficult relationship.

His expression closed. “They were estranged.” His voice was clipped. “Come, let’s unpack and go to bed. We have a lot of exploring to do over the next week, if you want to see all the Roman ruins in this part of the world.”

***

Alexander:

Common sense dictated I show her to one of the guest rooms. What was the point of becoming attached to her? I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. She was most likely working for one of my enemies and I couldn’t forget that.

Yet, I threw open the door to the master bedroom, with its antique four-poster bed and its warm, colourful coverlets. She gave me an amused look. “That’s a convenient bed to tie women up in.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I told her honestly. “I’ve never brought a woman here.”

“Oh.” Her voice was small.

I didn’t want to spend time dwelling on why I was breaking every single rule around her. I’d never taken anyone to my house in the Paris suburbs, yet I had taken her there two years ago. I’d never brought anyone to the farmhouse, yet here she was in my bedroom. Right from the start, she’d been different.

She could be trying to kill you,
a voice in my head reminded me.

I ignored that voice. “Come on, Jenny. Let me show you where the bathroom is.”

***

The next morning, I gave her the full tour. The farmhouse and the gardens, the neat rows of grapevines and the silver shimmer of the olive leaves. She sighed in pleasure. “I wouldn’t be able to leave,” she said. “It’s so beautiful here. What’s it like when it gets colder?”

“The wind blows through every crack in the place.” I remembered the few times I’d spent winter here. “The fireplaces roar and you huddle around them. In the night, you slip a hot water bottle between the sheets to keep you warm.”

“Couldn’t you use some of your millions to fix it up?”

I looked at her with amusement. “What would be the point of that? It’s part of the place’s charm.”

She laughed. “You are the strangest billionaire I’ve ever met, Alexander,” she remarked.

“Have you met many?” I was joking, until I noticed that her expression had gone flat.
What was she hiding?

“No, of course not,” she replied. She tossed me an arched look from under her eyelashes. “Are they that easy to find?”

She was acting. Perhaps she was thinking about her former master. The money would explain why she’d stayed long enough for him to scar her as deeply as he had done. But my explanation didn’t ring true. She didn’t seem materialistic to me. The clothes had made her uncomfortable, the jewelry even more so.

I was missing something obvious. Some piece of the puzzle that would make her behaviour make sense. I filed the snippet away in the back of my brain, putting it with all the other little pieces that didn’t quite add up.

I will figure you out, Jenny,
I vowed.
I will find out what you are hiding.

***

I still showed her the barn.

“This is where I tied up my first girl,” I said.

“So you did bring someone here,” she pointed out.

I shook my head. “I was seventeen. This was my aunt’s house then, and Angela never spent the night.”

“Where did you tie her up?” She looked around and spotted the central support pillar. “Ah, here?” Her voice was teasing.

My lips curved into a smile. I had no idea why I was uncovering a memory that had, up to this instant, always been marred by what had come after. “Want to find out?”

She laughed, a bright, merry sound. “Reliving your youth, Alexander?” She moved to the pillar, her back in contact with the weathered wood. “What should I do, Sir?”

She was wearing a halter neck pink dress that made her look like a tasty bit of candy. I untied the knot at the back of the neck and the fabric dropped to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra; her beautiful breasts were bare, the pretty pink nipples a perfect match to the fabric. Desire flooded my senses.

“Your nipples are already erect,
cherie
,” I whispered in her ear, hearing the ragged edge in my voice. I heard her sharp inhale of breath, saw the pulse beat at her neck. “Your body is begging me for this.”

She bit her lip, her eyes staying downcast.

I was having none of that. Looking into her eyes was akin to drowning in a green sea, yet never had a man walked to his death with more willingness than I did. My fingers reached out and tipped her chin up. “Look at me, not the floor.”

“Yes Sir,” she exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

I was intent on getting her out of her dress. “Get naked,
cherie
.”

Her hands reached behind her back to unzip the dress and the movement raised her breasts up. I lowered my mouth instantly, capturing those morsels between my lips. Again, she groaned. “You aren’t making it easy for me to follow directions,” she gritted out. Her legs shifted restlessly; she jutted her hips towards me.

I grinned. “I never promised I would.” I waited for her dress to drop to the ground before I pushed her panties down her hips. I leaned close to voice an order in her ear. “I want you to keep quiet. Do you want a gag, or will you be good?”

Her eyes were bright with anticipation. There were ghosts of memories in this barn and her reaction - the excitement, arousal and lust that was radiating from her – was exactly what I needed to finally lay these ghosts to rest. “I’ll be good, Sir.”

I held her panties in front of her. “One moan, one whimper, one cry, and I will gag you.” I leaned forward to kiss her. “Okay,
cherie
?”

“Yes Sir,” she whispered.

I moved her wrists behind her back, wrapping them around the pillar. “Can you keep them there?”

She nodded. She could just about link her fingers together. “Yes Sir,” she said sweetly.

Each time she gave willing consent, I let go a little bit of my past, of that terrible day and its aftermath. “Part your legs,” I said.

She obediently shuffled them apart. She stood there, naked, holding her hands obediently around the pillar. I could see each inhale and exhale of breath, each tremor that ran through her. Tiny little goose bumps rose on her skin as I watched and I smiled. “Nervous,
ma petite
?”

She shook her head. I unbuckled my belt and pulled it free, doubling it and swinging it in the air. “Still not nervous?”

“Should I be, Sir?” she asked me bravely. “I’m not afraid of you.”

My heart thudded in my chest as she uttered those words. I kissed her lips, teasing her erect nipples with the leather strap until she whimpered softly into my mouth. “No noise,” I warned. “I’ll be right back.” She nodded and I headed to the bedroom to retrieve the toys I’d brought - a flogger, some rope, a buttplug and more.

I had to wonder if there was a small part of me that had always realized I needed to come back to this barn to try and overwrite the memories of that day from the past. The farmhouse had been renovated, but perhaps that was the reason I’d done nothing to clean up the barn. There was still the old wooden table in the corner that could serve as a makeshift bed. Ropes could still be hung from the rafters from the ceiling, so I could immobilize Jenny and bring her to repeated gasping pleasure.

Gathering the toys, I made my way back to Jenny, who was still standing where I left her, back pressed to the pillar, arms locked behind it. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and even. Her nipples were erect and her legs parted. A shaft of sunlight bathed her skin. She looked radiant.

I cleared my throat and her eyes flew open. “Did I startle you?”

“A little, Sir,” she admitted. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was enjoying the warmth.”

I deposited the armful of toys next to her. “Hard or soft today?” I asked her. She was similar to me in that she didn’t need the same thing all the time. Some days, she seemed to need pain to drive out her demons. Other days, she craved kisses and gentleness and warmth.

Whatever her heart’s desire was, I wanted to give it to her.

She considered my question, then she smiled. “Is medium an acceptable answer?” she asked. “I want to feel it, but I don’t want marks for the rest of the trip.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Surprise me, Sir,” she shot back cheekily. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

I laughed aloud and took her panties out of my pocket. “I did warn you to be good,” I told her. “Open up.”

She parted her lips obediently and I bunched the panties into a ball and pushed them into her mouth. Her eyes remained untroubled, and waves of lust still rolled off her.
She was perfect.
 

I reached for a riding crop, teasing her nipples with the leather tip. Her breath caught audibly and she tried to push herself against it, rubbing her nub against the edge. “Stay still,” I said sharply. “Do you think you are in charge here?” I smacked the top of her breast with the crop, smiling slightly as I heard her hiss of pleasure.

A spot of red bloomed at the point of contact. Everything in her body screamed out for more and I was happy to oblige.

My palm closed over her soft breast, relishing her gasp as my fingers tweaked at her bud. “You like that?” I asked her as I soothed the spot that I’d cropped. My mouth followed, kissing away her pain.

In her chest, her heart beat like a trapped butterfly. But she was free to leave whenever she wanted. She wasn’t tied down – yet.

She made no move to leave. Through the gag, she made little moans of pleasure, moans that grew louder as the crop replaced my mouth. Steady strokes followed – firmer on her breast, softer on her nipple. Just the one breast for now.

I wasn’t hitting her hard. Her skin grew pink and then a faint red, but these marks would fade in a few hours, exactly as she’d requested. These taps were meant to turn her on, not to punish her - and they were working. I could smell her arousal, I could feel her need.

My cock ached. “Patience,” I said aloud. I was reminding myself as much as I was talking to her, and she knew it. Her eyes twinkled with amusement and I chuckled. “Yes,
cherie
, I have to hold myself back. But it’s for a good cause.”

She inclined her hips towards me, clearly urging me to abandon control and just fuck her. My lips twitched. Her impatience matched mine, her need just as great. But waiting would make it better for both of us.

I moved the crop to her other breast, tapping her until that globe pinkened as well. Her chest was rising and falling, her legs moving restlessly as she writhed with pleasure.

***

Ellie / Jenny:

I couldn’t understand why I’d ever been afraid of him.

He moved behind me with the crop. I resisted the urge to turn and watch him, and my patience was rewarded as his hands encircled me from behind. His fingers roamed over my naked body, tweaking my nipples and squeezing my breasts. Each touch made me gasp, the noise a muffled sound through my gag.

Sharp spikes of lust shot from the spots where his fingers met my flesh, radiating outward all through my body. Each tug of his finger pulled at something lower, as if there was an invisible line connecting my nipples and my clitoris. Heat pooled in me, need and want and longing all wrapped up in his touch, in the way he sounded, in the way he moved, in the way he controlled me.

My body felt heavy. My thoughts receded and my world narrowed to this. To his calloused fingers pinching my dusky-red nipples. To the slight coarseness of the wooden pillar against which I leaned.

His mouth dipped to the spot where my shoulder met my neck and he nipped. My knees almost buckled in response to that touch. It didn’t seem possible that my body could feel so much and so deeply. “Alexander,” I groaned through the gag.