From Leather to Lace (10 page)

Movement behind Maxwell’s shoulder caught Sarah’s eye. “Where is Sam going?” she asked as Sam and the dinghy headed towards the shore.

“He’s going in to stay ashore tonight. Sometimes he stays on board but tonight he has another engagement and I wanted to be alone with you.”

“Oh, of course. That will be nice,” she murmured, suddenly feeling unaccountably shy at the prospect of being alone with him for so long. She took a sip of champagne and examined him over the rim of her glass. He was studying her intently, an amused expression on his face.

“I believe you have gone all coy,” he said with a chuckle. “Does being out here alone with me make you nervous?”

“No,” she lied. She wasn’t about to admit to her sudden silliness and sought to change the subject. “You have chosen a lovely spot, very peaceful,” she said, studying their surroundings. Sheer cliffs bordered them on three sides. A small, secluded beach stretched along the base of the cliffs, its pristinely white sand glinting invitingly in the sun.

“I love this spot,” Maxwell responded appreciatively. “It’s only accessible by boat so its beach is often deserted.” He looked towards the food that Sam had prepared. “We should eat, are you hungry?”

She grinned and nodded. “I’m famished—it must be the sea air.”

They ate ravenously. The seafood was delicious and she started to relax and enjoy herself. Maxwell’s good spirits seemed to be fully restored and their tranquil surroundings were having a definite calming effect.

“It’s quite hot this afternoon, wouldn’t you agree?” Maxwell commented as he took his shirt off. Sarah drew a sharp intake of breath at the sight of his tanned chest glistening faintly with perspiration and rippling with muscles. He stood over her as she looked up at him, his legs on either side of her own. “You know, you look like Audrey Hepburn at the moment—it must be that floppy hat and those big sunglasses,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” she breathed, not able to break eye contact with him. “I absolutely adore Audrey Hepburn.”

How did he do that to her? With just a look he made her feel all gooey and faint, like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“We need more champagne,” he stated, breaking the spell. He turned and crossed the deck to get a new bottle from the fridge. As the sunlight hit him Sarah gasped loudly and frantically removed her sunglasses.

It can’t be true. I’ve got to be seeing things.

But there in dreadful reality on Maxwell’s back were the unmistakeable marks left from a whip. Fading now but still horribly, undeniably obvious! Turning, Maxwell registered her shocked expression.

“You have grown very pale,” he said. “Has something disturbed you?”

Sarah didn’t know what to do.
Is this a trick? Does he know who I am?
Her heart thudded with indecision and anxiety as she shakily rose to her feet.

“This is unlike you, Mistress Kitty, you are normally so in control,” he said sardonically.

At the mention of her professional name her blood ran cold. How could he know her as Mistress Kitty? She didn’t have time to think or reflect.

I have to get out of here
,
but where do I go? There is nowhere. I’m trapped
.

“There is nowhere to go, Sarah. Why do you think I brought you out here?” he asked mildly. “Because I knew when I confronted you about Fantasy you would try to get away. The only way I knew I would be able to prevent that was to bring you out here.”

“What do you want with me?” Sarah asked, her voice shaking. She was in too much shock to think straight and a ribbon of fear was working its way down her spine.

“Just to talk, sweetness,” he said as he pushed her shoulders down gently so that she was once more sitting down. “Here, have some champagne, you look like you need it.”

Sarah took the champagne with a shaking hand and took an unladylike gulp. “I-I-don’t understand,” she stammered. “When did you find out?”

“I knew at our first session,” he declared. “Why do you think I made the appointment? I wanted to experience you as Mistress Kitty.”

“But how did you…?” Her voice trailed off as she realised that Roxy must have betrayed her. A vague memory of Roxy’s furtive look when she questioned her about keeping her secret skimmed across her mind.

“Don’t blame everything on Roxy,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “After I met you at her party and you left without giving me your number I pumped her for information about you. When she only gave me vague details about you I harassed her even more. By that stage I was seriously intrigued. Finally, in a weak moment after I had plied her with champagne, she gave in and told me. It was my fault she spilled the beans. I think that Roxy thought that if I was totally shocked by your occupation she would hear nothing more out of me. As it was, I was fascinated and it made me even more determined to see you. She wouldn’t tell me your place of work, of course. I had to do that investigation on my own and it wasn’t easy but I finally found you and booked a session with you, which, I might add, took some time—you are obviously highly sought after and your Madam initially tried palming me off on someone else.”

Sarah was lost for words, her thoughts were reeling. Other people would have just requested her phone number but Maxwell had had to go that extra leap. Then, in a sudden flash of clarity, everything fell into place.

“How did I not realise? You are Mr X,” she stated.

“One and the same,” he affirmed and continued his explanation.

“After that first session I came home and did twenty laps of my pool and took two cold showers. God, I wanted you—and seeing you as Mistress Kitty only inflamed me further. I thought that if you didn’t turn up with Roxy to my party the next day I would have to demand to know where you lived so I could come and beat your door down.”

She couldn’t believe it. She had felt confused, even guilty about her sessions with Mr X and the inappropriate thoughts she had had about him and all the while he had deliberately misled her and played with her emotions. Before she knew what she was doing she stood up and, looming over him, slapped him hard across the face.

“Was this some sort of sick game to you?” she hissed. “You deceived me and took advantage of me, how could you?”

All Sarah could think about was getting off the boat. She looked around wildly for her bag but, realising that the only way off was to swim, she abandoned her bag and dived over the side, intent on swimming the short distance to shore. No sooner had she hit the water than she heard Maxwell dive in after her. Before she could even make a stroke she felt his arms about her, holding her in a vise-like grip.

“Sarah, calm down,” he cried as he held onto her and tried to swim them to the side of the boat.

She ignored him and continued to struggle, her legs kicking frantically to no avail. It was impossible—he was far too strong for her. He held her easily as she thrashed about. She was crying with frustration and her efforts to get away were exhausting her. Admitting defeat, she finally fell still, panting and weak with exertion.

After a few moments Maxwell swam them over to the boat and, after hauling himself easily up onto the dive deck, he reached down and lifted her effortlessly out of the water. He stooped to pick her up and carried her onto the deck, through the living area then down into the master cabin where he laid her on the bed before he stripped off his wet shorts and pulled on a dry pair.

Sarah was too spent and shocked to complain or argue. She just lay there and let Maxwell dry her with a towel he had retrieved from the bathroom. Lifting her into a sitting position he undid the clip in her hair and rubbed vigorously, ridding it of additional moisture before laying her back down. He lay beside her on his side and rested his head on his left hand as he lifted his right and traced the outline of her face with his thumb. She knew that, even though his actions appeared gentle and caring, he felt anything but. She glanced at him quickly and noted the muscle twitch in his rigid jaw, which betrayed his real emotions.

“When were you going to tell me, Sarah? Or were you going to keep your clandestine activities a secret?”

She shuddered involuntarily at the coldness in his voice. She needed to regroup and get time to think.

“I didn’t intend to deceive you, Maxwell. I didn’t expect us to become serious. I was working out a suitable time to tell you, I… I was trying to work out…
how
to tell you.”

He continued to trace his thumb up and down her jaw line as she lay rigidly next to him. The air conditioning in the cabin was very cool against her skin and she shivered from a combination of the chill and shock.

Noticing her shiver, Maxwell dragged a blanket over her. As his hand reached level with her breasts, he skimmed his thumb over an erect nipple, making her gasp. It was a light, barely-there touch, and she wondered if it was even deliberate. After he had tucked the blanket around her he continued to stroke her face, running a finger from her temple to her jaw over and over again. The caress was soothing and succeeded in calming her nerves a little.

“I realised after last night’s session that I don’t like what you do, Sarah. The thought of you dressed so provocatively with all those men slobbering over you makes my blood boil. I couldn’t help my anger this morning. I’ve been thinking about you and your BDSM profession all night.”

“The way I dress, Maxwell, comes with the territory. And besides, my clients do not ‘slobber’ as you so rudely put it—they are polite and respectful.”

He stopped his soothing caress of her cheek. “I wasn’t particularly polite and respectful as Mr X,” he stated. “I managed to overpower you quite easily, as I recall.”

She flushed at the truth of his words then was quickly overcome by anger and struggled upright. “Yes! You insisted on pushing the envelope and demonstrating how easily you could turn the tables on me. The point that you don’t seem to understand is that clients come to Fantasy to fulfil specific needs—they know the rules and they respect them.
You
came to Fantasy with a totally different agenda—
you
wanted to play games whilst you were deceiving me!”

He sat up to face her. “You’re right, Sarah. I did have a different agenda. I’m not a guy who likes to be dominated. I went to Fantasy initially because I was intrigued and totally fascinated by the fact that you are a Dominatrix.”

Sarah brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, telling herself she should remain calm and hear him out.

Encouraged by her silence, Maxwell continued. “Then since we have been seeing each other I’ve been tormented by thoughts of you with other men and wondering what you do with them or, more to the point, what they dream of doing with you. It’s been driving me crazy, as has waiting for you to confide in me. To be honest, I really expected you to recognise me last night and I was astounded when you didn’t.”

Sarah was wondering the same thing—how could she not have recognised him? She could only come up with one explanation.

“Mr X did seem familiar to me somehow but I couldn’t put a finger on the connection. The half-head mask you wore was pretty effective
and
I couldn’t see your hair. Your voice was different also—you obviously lowered the timbre of your voice to make it particularly difficult for me to identify you. That life is so far out of context to my normal life that I totally separate the two. The last person I would have expected to be one of my clients was you so I guess I just blocked the possibility entirely.”

He drew her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he whispered into her hair. “I didn’t intend to hurt you.”

She sighed and laid her head back to rest on his shoulder. “I’m sorry too. I should have told you. It wasn’t fair of me to lie about my work and sneak around behind your back.”

He rocked her soothingly as he caressed her hair. She took comfort from his actions and continued with her explanation.

“I really was going to tell you, Maxwell, I just hadn’t come up with the right words and I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it—no matter how I couched it.” She looked up at him and a giggle escaped her.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“You know, I did think Mr X had a pretty good body and I was feeling guilty over lusting after it.”

“You thought I had a pretty good body, huh?” he smirked.

“Oh yes, and so original, Mr X—how did you come up with that name anyway?”

He smiled and brushed his lips over hers. “Not being accustomed to frequenting such establishments, when your Madam asked me for a pseudonym it was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“Do you still have those leather pants and that sexy mask?” she murmured against his mouth. “That was so hot.”

She felt his mouth curl against hers in a smile. “I think I can be persuaded to drag them out.”

A shiver ran through her as his lips moved whisper-soft from her mouth to her ear. His breath was warm against her skin and a moan escaped her as he nibbled on her earlobe. He swept his hand underneath the blanket and slipped it inside her bikini top where he found her right nipple and caressed it softly before he tweaked it and rolled it slowly between his thumb and finger. She moaned and pushed her breast up into his hand.

“I know you like that,” he breathed in her ear before his tongue traced the shell delicately. He snaked his other hand under the blanket to grasp her left breast before taking that nipple and rolling and pinching it. She felt his erection pressing into her lower back and she pushed against him. He groaned loudly and, releasing one of her breasts, he ran his hand down over her belly and slipped a finger into her bikini bottoms to find her soft, wet folds.

“You are so wet, so warm,” he said reverently as he ran a long finger slowly around her opening. Gathering her moisture he caressed her over and over then found her clitoris and tweaked the sensitive nub until she shuddered against him. She opened her legs wider and pushed her hips up, trying to urge his fingers deeper inside her.

He chuckled against her neck as he nibbled the sensitive skin.