Rich Promise (18 page)

“Your pants now, I think. We won’t be needing these for a while.”

I can no longer watch him, but I hear the slight rustle of his jeans and he kneels to draw my knickers down my legs. I lift my feet to step out at his brisk tap to my ankles. Then I stand still, nervous, slightly disorientated as Dan moves around the room. My imagination is all over the place, conjuring up a pantomime of kinky fun.

“Sit down, Summer. The chair’s right behind you.”

Despite my heightened awareness of his presence I still jump, startled when he whispers in my ear.

It never occurs to me to doubt him. I sit immediately, my bottom coming up against the velvety upholstery of a Queen Anne style chair, normally situated below the window.

“I want your bum near the front, then you can lean back if you would, please.”

I do as I was told, shuffling forward then rolling my spine backwards until my shoulder blades connect with the chair. It’s padded. Dan must have stuffed a couple of cushions against the wooden rails of the back.

“Okay?” I nod in response, appreciating his concern for my comfort. Was he always so solicitous?

“Open your legs wide, hook your knees over the chair arms.”

I do that, but find the angle difficult. My legs keep slipping forward off the narrow wood rails.

“I could tie them in place. Would that help?”

Again I nod, welcoming his assistance. Footsteps sound across the room, then back again. With gentle hands, Dan guides my legs into position, securing them with more scarves. I relax, loving the sense of exposure, the knowledge that he can see me, that he’s looking. Admiring.

“You are so beautiful, Summer. So seriously lovely. My perfect submissive. And
this
is your reward. Relax and enjoy.”

I’m expecting his touch, craving it, but still my muscles jerk in a violent twitch at the first fleeting caress. He ignores my involuntary movement, trailing his fingers along my widely spread inner thighs. He’s slow and deliberate, using both hands, one on each side, converging in the center. I open my mouth, but utter no sound. Every nerve ending is standing at attention as he uses his thumbs to open my pussy lips. There’s a puff of cool air, he’s blowing onto my clit. His mouth is close, very close, I wish, I want…

This!
I arch as his tongue at last connects with my throbbing clitoris. He flicks the end with the tip of his tongue, teasing, lapping, tasting. I’m wet, drenched, my body yearning now for his. I want to ask, to beg, but my mouth is stopped as surely as if he
had
gagged me. I can only hope he knows, that he can tell what I need from him and that he’s feeling generous.

Of course he knows and mercifully, he is in a generous mood. He leans in a little farther to take my swollen clit between his lips. He presses his lips against it, holding it in place for his tongue to caress the top, the full length of the quivering bud. I arch, pulling against the scarves holding my legs in place, lifting my hips up, seeking more. Dan provides it, everything, increasing the pressure slightly, before he takes my clit into his mouth and sucks on it hard.

My orgasm is there, suddenly piling up from deep inside me, filling every part of my shaking, shuddering body. The tingles start at my core, with my clit as he tongues and sucks on it, and they radiate outwards. My pussy clenches, spasming sharply. Dan slips two fingers inside me, and I grip around those, my inner walls squeezing with a strength I hadn’t realized I might possess. The suction around my clit does not let up. If anything, Dan increases the intensity as my climax rocks and pulsates through my body, drawing out every last shiver before he finally releases me.

“I think that might hold you for a bit. Now, while I have you here and so agreeable, let’s see what else I can come up with to do to you.”

I’m aware of his movements around the room, the soft sound of his footsteps. Has he taken his shoes off? He must have. He was wearing motorbike boots when he arrived here, his tread heavy and thudding. Now he moves almost silently. Unlike other occasions when I’ve been blindfolded and bound, however, I feel quite relaxed, utterly confident that whatever happens it will be glorious.

I listen as Dan comes back to me. He’s close, in front of me, kneeling perhaps? It seems incongruous that he would kneel before me, yet I still feel totally submissive, my surrender absolute and unconditional.

His hands are on me again, parting my buttocks to reveal my tight anus. I moisten in anticipation. I know I’m going to love this. I arch as he smears lube around my arse, then slips one oiled finger into the opening. I relax, yearning for more. The second finger is welcome, stretching me slightly as my arse slackens around his probing digits. He withdraws, and I wait, expecting maybe to receive three fingers now, but instead he places something cool and hard against my entrance. It’s smooth, and slips inside easily, clearly well lubed. It’s wide—I gasp as Dan presses harder to ease it past my sphincter, but in moments it’s there.

A butt plug. It feels large, but it’s not uncomfortable. It might be unevenly shaped, as there feels to be more pressure against one side of my inner channel. It’s difficult to tell. I lie still, listening to the soft hush of fabric as Dan stands, then his light tread as he walks across the room. There’s the sound of running water. He’s washing his hands. A good sign.

Now he’s back, kneeling in front of me again. He says nothing, just trails the backs of his fingers along my inner thighs. I shiver as the plug twists inside me, the pressure sweeping around my arse. It’s an odd sensation, but intensely erotic. I lift my hips in silent appreciation. Dan chuckles, the sound warm and sensuous in the otherwise silent room

“Liking that, little slut?”

I nod hoping this is allowed, but I’m fast approaching a point where I don’t care. He can do anything he chooses to me and I’ll accept it.

“And this?”

I gasp, arching sharply as his tongue connects with my swollen clit. He gives it a long, slow lick, from base to tip, the flat of his warm tongue pressing hard on the throbbing bud. I’m thrashing my head from side to side, which he interprets as approval, I guess, as he repeats his licking. His strokes are leisurely, firm, the sensation intense. He continues to swirl the butt plug inside me, creating a riot of feeling. My pussy, regretfully empty, spasms and contracts, to be rewarded by three firm fingers plunging inside me. I stiffen, rigid in my delight as he seems to be everywhere, in me, all over me—working, stroking, licking, caressing.

My orgasm is powerful, my entire body shaking as I hit a wall of sheer bliss. The hot ripples of my release pulsate and fill every crevice, sizzling right out to my fingertips, still bound behind me. It’s everywhere, no part of me unaffected, but all seems to coalesce in my pussy as I grip his fingers, seeking more friction, more sensation.

Dan provides it, angling his hand and thrusting hard against my G-spot as I let out a long moan of utter delight, sheer, unadulterated joy. I love him, love this. I need this more than oxygen. My orgasm seems to continue forever as I lose track of time. I’m suspended, floating, weightless, freed by my restraints to simply be, and feel, and enjoy.

Eventually the moment passes, the waves of pleasure subside, and I become conscious of my surroundings once more. Despite being totally spent, I still whimper in disappointment or maybe it’s a sense of loss, as Dan’s fingers slide from me. Seconds later, he pulls the butt plug from my arse then unties the scarves holding my legs still. He pulls me into a sitting position, my hands still tied, my eyes still covered.

He doesn’t speak to me as he lifts me from the chair and lays me on the bed.

“Now I’m going to fuck you. I’m done with gentle, for now, so this will be hard, but I don’t want to hear a sound from you still. Would you like me to untie you?”

I shake my head. I’m his, and my bonds reinforce that. I trust him. I don’t need to be free. Don’t want to be. Ever.

But not screaming is a challenge as he drives his cock into my pussy. I’m ready, wet and hot, and so thoroughly prepared, but still he’s relentless as he pounds into me. He lifts my legs, drapes them over his shoulders to angle me for better penetration. His cock nudges my cervix with every thrust, every stroke delivered hard and fast and unbelievably deep. I didn’t think I had anything left, but I’m starting to spasm again, pre-orgasm tingles starting to shimmer somewhere low down within me. I grip him tight, swiveling my hips to generate greater friction, to rub my clit against him. Immediately his thumb is there too, sliding between us to stroke my throbbing, greedy bud.

I’m sure he’s close, his guttural moans and murmured curses suggest that. His merciless pounding increases in tempo, his rhythm shifting up a gear or three. I momentarily regret my refusal to be untied as I’d like to grab his shoulders and cling on, but that moment is swept away as I come. I beat him to the finishing line by seconds, dimly aware of his muffled, “fuck, fuck, fuck” as he drives forward and stiffens, holding still inside me as his semen flows from his cock to bathe my cervix.

It’s hot. Liquid lust. It fills me. Completes me.

Chapter Ten

“Wake up, love. You need to get moving.”

Dan’s voice is soft, soothing—a sweet whisper against my ear. I turn toward him, my eyes opening just a fraction.

“What? Where…?”

“You’ve been asleep. But it’s time to get up. Your visitors will be here soon.”

“Visitors?” I mumble, confused.

Visitors!

I come fully awake in a moment.
Christ!

Sally MacDonald. She might be here any second and I’m dozing in Dan’s bed.
Shit!

“Don’t panic. It’s only half past three. You’ve time for a quick shower if you want one. I brought you a cup of tea.” Dan’s voice is calm, in control.

He grabs a pillow and shoves it behind me as I sit bolt upright, managing somehow not to knock the mug of steaming tea from Dan’s hand.

“But, what if she’s early? I should be up. I ought to be downstairs by now. I need to check…”

“No you don’t. There’s nothing needing checking and you’ve plenty of time. If they arrive early, we’ll keep them happy till you get down. Eva’s here with the children. And Grace. We can manage. Drink. Shower. Then get dressed. It’s all under control, love. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

I stare at him, at his gorgeous face so cool, so sure. So confident. And it’s infectious. My panic subsides, to be replaced by just a sliver of Dan’s quiet certainty. A tiny shoot at first but taking root and growing as I watch his slow smile transform his beautiful features.

“I fell asleep. I can’t believe I fell asleep. Today of all days. I haven’t slept for days and now…”

“You were knackered, love. You needed it. Feeling better?” He pushes the mug into my hands and I take it, lift it to my lips for a cautious sip. It’s hot, but good. Nice and sweet, just as I like it.

I hesitate, amazed to realize that I do feel better, despite a slight soreness in some places. My legs ache, my pussy feels well-fucked, as indeed it has been. All in all I feel great, quite wonderful. Refreshed, rested, ready to face anything. And this is only Sally MacDonald. She’s nice. I sip my tea again.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome.”

Neither of us needs to elaborate. He knows what he did, how he helped me to relax, to forget about the tension of today and to get a grip when I might have lost it, might have simply panicked and made a total mess of this meeting. Now I have a sense of perspective. It’s important, but it
is
only Sally and she
is
nice. More important, she’s on my side. Even so, I could have so easily fucked it up through sheer desperation. Not now, though. Now, I’m on top of it.

I take a last sip and pass the half empty mug back to Dan. “Shower then. Thanks for the tea.”

“My pleasure. I’ll see you downstairs.” He places the mug on the bedside table, drops a light kiss on my forehead then strolls from the room.

* * * *

Twenty minutes later I’m dressed again, smart and business-like in my formal skirt and blouse so carefully folded earlier. My hair is still slightly damp but passable. I don’t look like a thoroughly fucked submissive, more the sporty professional type. Not sure which I prefer, but it’s clear which persona is needed now. I lean in toward the mirror to apply a little lip gloss from the small stock of my personal items which seem to have crept in here. I examine my reflection in the mirror critically, roll my shoulders, take a couple of deep, fortifying breaths. I can do this, and even if I miss my footing, Dan will help. So will Eva. And Grace. Nathan too. I’m among friends.

I close Dan’s bedroom door quietly behind me as I step into the upstairs hallway. I hear laughter, Grace’s voice offering scones, the clink of crockery downstairs. Dan did say Eva was here, and the rest of Nathan’s family. Sounds like a happy gathering. I make my way down, intending to just say hello before heading off to my flat to wait for my visitors. The kitchen door is ajar and I hear more voices as I approach. Eva. Nathan, Grace again.

Impossible. How could that be?
I stop, stand still in the hallway and listen. Yes. That’s Lucy. Definitely, her deep, slightly rough tone saying, “Yes please.” Then she laughs.

I creep forward toward the door, push it gently to reveal more of the room.

If Dan had deliberately stage managed this, he could not have created a better setting. The tableau before me is one of utterly perfect domestic bliss. Black Combe is normally a happy, relaxed place—I love the atmosphere here—but this is taking it to another level entirely. Sally MacDonald is sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea raised to her mouth. Maisie is seated to her left and Lucy on her right. Grace is standing beside them, a plate of scones in her hand. Nathan is in the chair opposite, baby Isabella standing on his lap and clutching at his face with her chubby fingers. Eva is also at the table, pouring tea. Even Barney is playing his part, snoring with absolute disinterest beside the Aga.