The Alexandra Series (14 page)

When he pushed me away and his cock withdrew, I collapsed against the stool only to discover a fresh new pain envelope my body. There was a constant throbbing, a dull ache, and occasionally sharp shooting pains when I moved. I waited, immobilized, not wanting to budge from that place.

As the minutes passed and the pain began to subside, I found myself turning my attention to the pleasure building in my body. The heat had warmed me, and my own need to release was beginning to well up from within. I could feel myself start to grind against the stool, but I quickly stopped, reminded that I’d just been violated in the presence of three men, in the presence of my own lover. Thoughts of my exposure, and the rudeness of the assault overpowered my pleasure and drove it far from me. Perhaps I blacked out. I don’t remember time passing, or voices or bodies about me, or doors opening and closing. I remember nothing until a cool chill of air greeted my naked ass and gentle hands pulled me carefully from the stool. Elliot’s hands.

We were alone. I gazed about the deserted room, which seemed so innocent in its well ordered arrangement. So calm. So serene now that the passion had been spent. I looked at Elliot, with his weapon of assault now tucked inside his trousers. He was calm. He’d had his pleasure and was now waiting on me.

As I stood, I pulled my skirt down to cover my nakedness.
Why had he stayed? Was he with me on Reggie’s command?
I considered the strange circumstances, being ministered to by the very man who had attacked me in the crudest sort of violation. Yet I hadn’t any real feelings for him one way or the other; and he had none for me I surmised by his cool detachment.

All of a sudden, I understood how my time with Reggie would play out. I awakened with amazing clarity, knowing that everything had been prearranged, Reggie designing it all from the moment I entered the living room. He’d designed my violation, and the consolation now. I was being carefully managed, manipulated into submission and humiliation by a master of the craft. Ah yes! It was my choice, but this was his drama to contrive. I was just a player – like all the others were players in his game. Hadn’t Will said as much?

And where was Reggie now?

Would this be how my training would continue?

This knack for drama and mastery was Reggie’s gift. If I surmised correctly, he would devise and plan and set into motion scenes to stimulate my desires and allow me to experience them firsthand. But he intended to observe detached. He wouldn’t be my lover. He had no intention of passionately taking me. All my desires to have him, to be the welcomed plaything in his bed, were a foolish fantasy.

I despised him for that. But in that moment a fresh resolve was born in me. He wouldn’t get away with this detachment; he wouldn’t move me so and remain so cool. I could feel a fire burning deep in me, a rage to join the pain my body felt. It infused me with a determination to conquer him, and make him lust for me so passionately that he couldn’t contain himself behind that careful composure. I would chip away at his practiced resolve. I’d make him want me, and I would have him. I would have all of him for me – no matter what the cost. Why this was so important to me I couldn’t say. But it seemed the only way I could deal with my awakening desire was to, at least in my small private way, conquer it by conquering the master.

Chapter Fourteen

I returned to my bedroom as fast as I possibly could and lay on my bed for some time, my anger turning into fierce resolve. Soon the darkness of the room surrounded me with a blanket of calm, and my emotions finally settled.

As the warm cushion of the bed enveloped me in its sensual texture, and the pain of my backside reminded me of the scene I’d just created (
Oh yes! I knew that I’d created this, even though I didn’t want to admit how closely the scenario resembled my inner fantasies
), I found myself aroused. My body was so filled with sensation, it begged for some release, but I didn’t even try to masturbate. The hurt I’d suffered was still strong enough to overrule thoughts of pleasure. He was fucking with my fantasies – interjecting his own, and I couldn’t stand that.

I turned on the bedside lamp to inspect my rear, and to my surprise, there was no evidence that anything had taken place. No reddened skin where Elliot’s hands had so vigorously massaged. A closer inspection revealed no real damage. I was sore, very sore but any pain was far more internal than external.

As I reached to turn off the lamp and sleep, I noticed a cloth covered notebook on the table, its pages blank. Tucked inside, a blue folded sheet of Reggie’s stationery bore the words:
“Write the truth completely, remember the total truth.”

“How dare he!” I scowled aloud. I tore the paper in two and flung the book against the wall, the pages flying to the floor. I proceeded to the bath, too angry to sleep.

The morning that streamed through my window hit the bed with brilliant white light. Dust danced in the sunshine making the room seem to glimmer. My body glowed warmly as I lay still, the place between my legs damp with expectancy. Yet I jerked in agony as I moved. Remembering the night before, I found my anger returning.

It was seven o’clock. A breakfast tray sat neatly at my bedside. “Damn them! They think I can’t come down for breakfast. I’ll show the bastards!”

I dressed and descended the front stairs on my way to the dining room, walking carefully so as not to reveal the discomfort I felt. I noticed the startled look in Reggie’s eyes when I entered the room.

“Where’s Will?” I asked evenly.

“He needed to leave,” Reggie replied. “He said to tell you he’d be here Saturday morning. We were just starting breakfast. You want to join us?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation, and I gingerly took a seat next to Ann at the table.

“Alexandra, would you like a walk in the garden this morning?” Reggie asked while passing me a plate of bacon and eggs. “I don’t believe you’ve had the chance to see the them.”

“Certainly,” I replied. “What kind of gardens do you have?”

“Oh, Alex, the flowers are gorgeous,” Ann gushed. “Reggie has some magnificent roses.”

“Are these are some of them?” I asked, plucking a pink rose from the arrangement before me.

“Yes, they are,” Reggie replied. “I picked them this morning.”

I recognized them. Several of the same pink buds decorated the tray by my bedside. I wondered for a moment if I’d misjudged the situation.

Exiting through the French doors in the dining room, we took our stroll after breakfast, down the brick path that led to a wisteria covered arbor and the entrance to the most exquisite place I’d ever seen. Quite contrary to the more modern look of the house, this secluded garden was from another time, English perhaps, perfectly planted with each flower blooming vibrantly, the colors well placed next to its neighbors to accentuate the entire effect. And in the center of each flowerbed, roses grew. Yellow, white, pink, red, salmon and pale yellow tinged with pink, my favorite.

“I like these best,” I said, lightly touching the petals of a pink bush.

“I demand honesty, Alex,” Reggie announced, ignoring my casual comment. “Your actions lie and so does your conversation.” He sat on a stone bench expecting me to sit with him. I walked instead, knowing the cold stone would only add to the pain that was already there. I turned to face him, and as soon as his steely cold eyes met mine, I knew I was caught in my own game.

“You want me to tell you how hurt I am?” I asked. “If it makes you happy, yes, I’m damned uncomfortable. I consider last night’s ravaging a violation. I neither asked for it, dreamed it, or desired it.” I could feel the anger welling up again. “You’re going to tell me that being here is my choice, and so was last night. And you’re right. I gave myself to you, for you to use me any way you want. I played your game. But I want you to know that I hated it.” My voice rose, surprisingly strong. I couldn’t continue at the risk of turning my rage into tears.

“What I did to you last night was cruel. I intended it to be that way. And I’ll be cruel to you again, but you’ll desire it, just as you desired it last night.”

“I did
not
desire that last night!” I shouted back, annoyed that he’d even think that.

“Oh, but Alexandra, you did. You loved it.” He was calm and cold in his assessment of me.

“No!” I came back passionately.

“And what’s more, you desire my mastery over you, you desire every minute of the drama. You’re addicted to it, just as I am. Accept it, my dear, we played ourselves brilliantly last night, and even now you’re enjoying your rage.”

“I have every reason to be upset.”

“I know. Unfortunately for you, I’m the master of this game and you are not.”

How could I hate him and want him so much at the same time? He saw right through my hatred to the desire behind it; and for that I hated him most.

He got up and walked to me, staring at me with eyes not as cold as before. “Your little scene at breakfast is certain to be causing you some discomfort. If I didn’t know you were already tremendously sore I’d spank your ass for being so foolish. Spend the remainder of the day resting.” He lifted my chin in his hand so I couldn’t look away. “You’re hurt and your body needs to heal. Spend the rest of the day in bed, that’s an order. Athena can bring you anything you need including cream for your bottom.”

“You knew I’d be hurt?”

“Of course, but I knew you wanted it. There’s no real damage done. The pain will subside faster than you think. And the sooner you admit that you loved that scene, witnesses and all, the sooner your pleasure will begin.”

“Never,” I exploded jerking away.

“I don’t expect you to understand, that is my job. But what I’m designing for you is exactly what you want.”

“Stop saying that. I don’t agree at all.” I must have sounded like a petulant five year old, but I really didn’t care.

“Fine. But go to bed and heal your body. It’s of no use to me now, and I want it well cared for. Use the journal to channel your anger. That’s what it’s for.” He was completely cold and steely once again, and clearly tired of my anger and denial.

I was about to turn away and leave, but he was quick to stop me.

He pulled me back by the arm. “I’m not done with you.” My eyes flashed, but I remained calm. “I want you to masturbate yourself to orgasm six times between now and five o’clock tomorrow evening. I’ll be in to see you then, be bathed and ready for me.”

I watched him walk away. My body suddenly ached so furiously I was afraid I’d not be able to make it back to my room. When I did, I collapsed into my bed. As a breeze blew gently through the window I slept, and I didn’t wake until it was nearly dark. When I did rise, I bathed for a long time. I ate the tray of food Athena brought, and soothed myself with the balm she gave me. When I finished, I sat on my bed looking out into the trees that were turning black in the shadows of night. I was not tired. Reggie was constantly in my mind. I couldn’t make myself think of anything else, just Reggie and his driving power, his fleeting tenderness and his cruelty side by side, his light and dark so simply blended. I wanted both sides of him. And for a moment I did consider that perhaps I’d really created the night before, that being treated so fiercely was what I desired. Perhaps Reggie was right. But I only considered the idea briefly.

I gazed at the blue notebook still lying against the baseboard where I’d thrown it. Retrieving it, I looked at its blank pages and began to write. Everything. Everything that had led to that moment, about Jane and the bar and the Red Rose and Will – who I seemed to have completely abandoned. The memories were so powerful that I stopped several times to masturbate. The details were all there in rich detail – the fantasies, the desires, even my aborted attempts to experience my awakening sexuality. As I finished, the night was nearly gone. With traces of dawn beginning to appear in the sky, I finally lay down to sleep once more.

Chapter Fifteen

When I woke, it was past three, and the air was redolent with the fragrance of a late summer afternoon. Longer shadows made strange patterns on the bed, and a musty warm breeze scented the air. He’d be coming at five and I needed to bathe. Rising from the bed, I began my routine in the bath taking great care with each step. I wanted to be perfect for him. How did he want me? Dressed? In my robe? Made up? He always used the simplest words when speaking to me, if he wanted me dressed he’d have said so. As five o’clock approached, I donned my robe and sat in the one chair in the room.

He entered just as I heard the clock from the library chime the hour.

“I see you’ve rested,” he said as he closed the door behind him. He smelled of coffee, combined with an earthy stable smell and just a hint of his cologne. He was wearing jeans and a casual shirt suggesting that he’d been riding that afternoon.

“I do feel much better,” I replied. My anger from the day before was gone, but already the thought of his next game had me anxious.

“Still sore?”

“Yes.”

“And did you orgasm as I instructed?”

“I did, but just five times.” I’d planned to lie, but the truth spilled out regardless.

“Then finish now,” he said. “Move to your bed and open your robe.”

As I did, Reggie arranged the chair so that he could view me. As strange and intimate as his presence was, the masturbation was not as difficult as I’d have thought. I imagined seducing him, having him come to me and tongue my swollen cunt, or run his hands over my flesh, toy with my nipples and kiss my lips. I gave the moment my complete attention with the hope of making him squirm with desire for me, eager to touch my body even if his silly rules said otherwise.