To Love and Obey (Boundaries) (21 page)

Adam raised her arms until she was just about standing on tiptoes. She couldn’t move, was completely at his mercy, and the moisture between her legs heated as he walked around her, inspecting her, flogger in hand.

She heard a scream then, and looked around to see where it had come from. She grinned when she saw Amelia, kneeling by Jack’s feet, looking like she might be in big trouble. Jack was looking particularly mean, and she had a feeling that Amelia might be in for an interesting night.

Across the room, Mandy had Dawn bent over a spanking bench. Every time the riding crop hit her flesh, Dawn yelped and begged for more.

Rachel’s eyes drifted over to a St. Andrew’s Cross where Luke was expertly flogging Victoria with two large floggers simultaneously. She was groaning in ecstasy and obviously loving every minute of Luke’s firm discipline.

Yes, all was well with the world. The room was full of sex, pain and pleasure, the smells now so familiar and the sounds so exciting. This was where she belonged, with these people who, like her, liked their sex with a bit of added spice.

Adam warmed her skin slowly with light even lashes, but it didn’t take long before the strikes became harder and more intense. She threw her head to one side as the leather fronds landed on her tender breasts, and she moaned as her arousal intensified. She could feel the collar around her neck, a constant reminder that she now belonged to Adam, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Despite her past insecurities and Karen’s bitter attempt at revenge, they’d made it this far and she knew that today was just the beginning of a long and beautiful journey.

“Get ready for your next orgasm, Rachel,” he growled, as the leather flogger thudded against her pussy. “I want to hear you scream.”

“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, as another stroke kissed her warming flesh.

“I love you, Mrs Stone,” he hissed, as he hit her again, only harder this time.

“I love you too, Mr Stone,” she gasped, as the pain sent shivers of pleasure through her body. She loved him with all her heart and was so thankful that she could say the words out loud now, without fear, pain or guilt. She closed her eyes and felt herself drift into a cloud of euphoria as the second of the night’s orgasms gripped her. Yes, this was where she belonged, she thought, as she drifted happily into subspace.

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

Boundaries: To Love and Trust

Katy Swann

Excerpt

Chapter One

Rachel Porter took one final look in the mirror and smiled. She was going to dinner with Adam Stone tonight, and she hoped that dinner wasn’t going to be the only thing on the menu.

The night before, she’d been on the verge of ringing him and telling him she didn’t want to see him anymore. His revelation that his ex-wife had been his slave had stunned her, and when he’d then hinted that he might expect the same from her, she had panicked. But this morning, she had thought about it rationally and decided that she must have heard wrong. She had quickly buried her misgivings and had focused all her energy on tonight.

She returned her gaze to the mirror. For once she was happy with the image staring back at her. Her eyes had a sparkle in them that hadn’t been there before—they seemed greener somehow, more like emeralds instead of the usual dull moss-green. Her lips were fuller. In fact, when she really looked, she could almost see a rosy pout where before, her lips had been tense and drawn together. And her hair, looked different too, somehow shinier and sleeker as it hung gracefully down her back like long strands of golden silk.

She hadn’t worn too much makeup tonight—just enough eyeliner to give her large almond-shaped eyes a slightly smoky look, and a natural-colored lip gloss to emphasize her new-found pout. She hadn’t put foundation on for the first time in years and was amazed at how much prettier she looked as her exposed skin showed off her youthful glow. She looked fresh and natural. And happy.

It hadn’t taken long to decide what to wear as she didn’t have a huge collection of posh frocks. She obviously couldn’t wear the new dress she’d worn to dinner on Saturday, so that really only left the old faithful little black dress, which covered all eventualities. It made her slender figure look sexy and the high heels on her black patent shoes made her taller than her usual five foot four.

She did a little twirl in front of the full-length mirror, stopping so that her back was facing the glass, and looked over her shoulder to study her rear view. She lifted the skirt of her dress to inspect her naked bottom, and sighed. The pale skin was unblemished—not even a tiny little red mark remained from last night’s spankings. She was rather disappointed about that.

She looked at her watch. Ten minutes to go. She’d hardly seen Adam all day at the office—he’d been out at meetings for most of the day and the few times he’d been around, he’d been on the phone or with someone. He had politely nodded good morning to her as she’d brought in his coffee and had barely said goodbye as he’d rushed out at four o’clock for a meeting in Canary Wharf—she hadn’t seen him or heard from him since.

At seven twenty-five, she put her coat on and stood by the window to look out for the car. Mandy was working late so Rachel was alone with plenty of time to count the minutes and contemplate the night ahead. Where would he be taking her tonight? What was it he was planning to do to her on Friday night at Boundaries, and what would his house be like when he took her home afterwards? Would he have a dungeon in the cellar?

The sound of a car horn told her Rob, Adam’s driver, was waiting and so she hurriedly grabbed her bag and made her way downstairs. He was holding the passenger door open for her and she smiled her thanks as she climbed into the car. She’d been hoping to see Adam waiting for her, but the car was empty.

“Where’s Adam?” she asked, as Rob fastened his seatbelt then pulled away from the curb.

“He’ll be waiting for you when you arrive.”

“Arrive where?”

He didn’t reply, just kept his eyes on the road and left her alone with her memories of the journey home last night. Her face heated when she thought about the erotic spanking Rob had witnessed in the back and she was thankful for his discreet silence. She fixed her eyes on the passing lamp posts and settled back to enjoy the ride with nervous anticipation.

After a while, she noticed Rob wasn’t heading toward central London as she had been expecting, but was driving toward Highgate.
Where are we going?
Finally he drove past Hampstead Heath and turned into Hampstead High Street. Were they going to a restaurant here? Hampstead Village was famous for being trendy and expensive. A restaurant here would undoubtedly be very good.

Rob turned into a narrow side road off the High Street and continued down to the bottom where he turned again into an even narrower, cobbled lane. The only light came from Victorian style lamp posts—apart from that, they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. She swallowed nervously and wondered what the hell Adam was up to.

Rob pulled slowly up the lane then came to a stop by a row of Victorian terraced cottages. Without a word, he got out and opened the door for her.

“Where is this?” she whispered as she climbed out of the car and looked around.

Rob just tipped his hat and turned his head toward the shiny black door of the whitewashed cottage in front of them. “Mr Stone is waiting for you, Miss.”

“Is this Adam’s house?” she gasped. Of all the places she had imagined Adam to live, this cute cottage was definitely not one of them.

Rob smiled and nodded, letting her know in his usual discreet way that this was indeed Adam’s house.

“Wow. Thanks, Rob.” She walked up to the front door and rang the bell, excitement building inside her at the prospect of seeing Adam again, outside work. She heard footsteps approach then the door opened, allowing warm, welcoming light and a delicious smell of home cooking to waft out. Adam smiled as he held the door for her to enter and took her coat once she was inside.

“Hello,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms. “Welcome to my home.”

Before she could reply, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her, long and hard. When he eventually pulled away, her legs seemed to have lost most of their muscle mass and she became unsteady and slightly lightheaded.

He wore jeans tonight—old ones by the look of it—faded blue and slightly ripped. Not designer rips either—these holes were from genuine wear and tear. He had chosen a plain white linen shirt that showed off his broad chest and shoulders. Rachel felt her heartbeat quicken as she drank in the sight of him. It didn’t seem to matter whether he was wearing his Dom’s leathers, his sharp business suit or casual jeans, he always looked divine.

Taking her hand, he led her through to the kitchen, which was pretty much how she’d expected Adam Stone’s kitchen to be. Shiny white cupboards and units were topped with hard, jet black granite, matching the tiles on the floor. But where she had imagined it to be clutter-free and spotless, there were dirty pots, pans and utensils everywhere, a sure sign that he’d been making a huge effort doing something for her that he didn’t do very often.

“Hmm.” She sniffed. “It smells delicious. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“You haven’t tried it yet.” He grinned, and stirred something bubbling away in a large saucepan. “I love cooking, but I don’t get much time these days.” He took a bottle of wine out of the fridge, poured two glasses then handed her one. “Do you cook?”

“Me? God, no, I’m useless. I can just about fry an egg, although even then I burn the bottom of it.” It was true, cooking was something she had never been able to master and every attempt she made usually ended in disaster. Every time she offered to cook at home, Mandy quickly thanked her, then suggested that they maybe got a pizza in. Rachel had taken the hint and no longer offered, which suited her just fine.

She took a sip of the wine and smiled. It was just like Adam—smooth, cool and elegant. “What are we having?” It smelled incredible, whatever it was.

“Lamb simmered in red wine, garlic and olives. It’s an Italian recipe I got from an old friend,” he answered, and tasted a small amount on a teaspoon. He added a pinch of salt then turned back to her. “It’s nearly ready. Come on, I’ll show you around before we eat and introduce you to Thor and Freya.”

Thor and Freya? Has he invited another couple?
Disappointment welled up inside her. She had been so flattered that he had made all this effort just for her and now it seemed that he hadn’t at all. She was probably just here to make up the numbers. How stupid of her to think otherwise.

Adam took her hand and led her back into the entrance hall then through a door into the living room. Two large black leather sofas dominated the room, separated by an oak coffee table standing on a dark red pile rug. Matching red suede cushions were propped up along the sofas and a large red glass bowl took center stage on the coffee table. It was simple and stylish yet looked welcoming and homely.

To her delight, there was a roaring open fire blazing in the hearth. She had always loved open fires. She relaxed as the warmth welcomed her into the room to join the dancing shadows being thrown across it by the lively flames.

Then she remembered the other couple and looked around the room with a frown. “Where are your other guests?”

“There are no other guests,” said Adam, tracing his thumb around her lips. “It’s just you and me. Oh, and Thor and Freya, of course.” He nodded toward the rug in front of the fire. Two black, toasting cats were stretched luxuriously over the red pile of the rug.

Rachel quickly made her way over to the sleeping cats. She loved cats and had dreamt of having one of her own one day when she could afford a flat with a small garden. “Oh, Adam, they’re so sweet. And hot—I nearly burned my hand on this one.” She laughed, shaking her hand in mock pain.

“I often marvel at the fact that they don’t actually cook in front of that fire. That’s Thor.” He nodded as she stroked the larger of the two.

“Thor—that’s an interesting name.”

The cat looked up at her, gracing her with a yawn before settling back to sleep.

“My grandmother was Norwegian and loved to tell me old tales of Nordic folklore. Thor was the Nordic God of Thunder and Freya was the Norse Goddess of Love whose carriage was supposedly drawn by two black cats.” He knelt down next to Rachel and stroked Freya with an affectionate grin. She immediately rolled onto her back and stretched out lazily.

“She’s such a tart,” he said affectionately, as he ruffled her fluffy tummy.

“I never had you down as someone who owned cats.” As far as she was concerned, anyone who liked cats had to be okay. Suddenly, the hard-edged businessman and scary Dom didn’t seem quite so intimidating.

He chuckled and stood up again. “I’m just going to check on the food. Make yourself at home.” He kissed her lightly on the lips then left her alone with the two sleeping cats.

She sat down on one of the sofas and stared absently into the fire, becoming mesmerized by the lively flames. The only sound was the crackling as the wood burned, and the cats purring in unison. Every now and again, the sound of plates and pans clattered in the kitchen. If ever there was a feeling of peace and tranquility, this was it.

She looked around the room, taking in as many details as possible so she could learn more about Adam. They settled on a large painting hanging on the wall. She stood up and walked over to it to take a closer look and was immediately captivated by the scene depicted in the picture. It was clearly an original—she could tell from the raised grooves of the paintbrush, although the artist hadn’t signed it.

The snow-covered mountains were set against a night sky and were reflected in the clear water of a large lake. What brought the picture to life, though, were the striking green waves of light floating across the sky. They were so beautifully painted that she could almost see the movement of the waves as they lit up the mountains and gave the snow a mysterious greenish hue.

“The Northern Lights.”