To Love and Submit (13 page)

“Thanks.”

“Are you nervous? You look nervous.”

“Thanks,” Rachel laughed again, not sure if that was a compliment or not.

At precisely seven thirty, a car horn sounded outside. Rob was waiting for her with the rear door open and she smiled her thanks as she slid into the car. “Hello, gorgeous,” Adam’s beautiful voice greeted her.

“Hi.” She suddenly felt awkward. What was she supposed to say to the guy who had put her over his knee the night before and given her a spanking?

“I trust you slept well?” he asked, seemingly unaware of Rachel’s discomfort.

“Yes, very well, thank you,” she replied. “Er, Sir.”

“Good.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I want to kiss you hard, but I see you’ve made an effort for me and I don’t want to spoil your makeup. At least, not yet. You look beautiful.” He trailed his hand over her cheek, down her throat and over her cleavage, generously exposed by the low cut dress. She felt a shiver of excitement as the hot trail his finger left burned into her skin.

“Thank you, Sir.”

She moaned slightly as he continued to move his hand down to her legs, his fingers gently brushing the skin over her knees before moving up her thigh. “Let’s see if you’ve followed my instructions,” he murmured and moved his finger deftly up to her pussy.

“Hmm,” groaned Rachel, as his finger gently teased her. Delicious sensations were rippling through her and, as her heartbeat quickened, she felt the warm, damp evidence of arousal build between her legs.

“Good girl, no knickers. And I see you’ve shaved for me. I like that.” Adam smiled, but much to her disappointment removed his hand. He laughed when he saw the frown crease her brow. “Be patient, sweet thing. All in good time.”

“So, where are we going?” asked Rachel, needing to break the intense moment before she made a fool of herself and placed his hand back between her legs.

“You’ll see. Do you have any regrets about last night?” he asked, clearly not prepared to let her take control of the conversation.

“No, Sir, none at all. It was…enlightening.” A smile played on her lips as she recalled the incredible orgasm he had given her.

“So you’re happy to go back to Boundaries tonight?”

Keep talking to me in that voice and I’ll be happy to do anything.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied a little breathlessly as anticipation surged through her body.

“Good, we can get changed in my office behind the reception when we get there.”

“Changed?” Oh shit, she hadn’t brought a change of clothes. How could it not have occurred to her to bring something to get changed into for the club?

“Don’t worry, I have a nice little outfit waiting for you behind reception.” He emphasised the word
little
and she wondered just how little that meant. Judging by the lack of clothing most of the subs had worn last night, she didn’t expect it to be much more than a tiny scrap of material.

They drove another fifteen minutes or so until they arrived at London’s trendy Mayfair. Rob pulled up outside a small, expensive-looking restaurant and she gasped when she saw the name. The Lighthouse was the most famous and exclusive seafood restaurant, not only in London, but in the whole of the South East of England. It was famous for being impossible to get a table at, and if you were lucky enough to get a booking it would cost you hundreds of pounds for the privilege. The food was reported to be among the best in the world and the three-starred Michelin chef was as famous as the restaurant itself. She silently said a prayer of thanks that she’d gone to the trouble of buying a new outfit.

“Hello, Adam, welcome back,” said the maître d’, as a man in a black suit held the door open for them. They were ushered to a discreet table near the back, away from the busy main part, but with a clear view over the whole of the restaurant. It had to be the best and most sought after table in the whole place. Secluded, but not excluded.

Rachel sat down as her chair was pulled out for her and a napkin placed on her lap, and before she could even say thank you, two glasses of chilled champagne appeared before them.

Adam picked up his glass and raised it to Rachel, who quickly picked hers up and returned the gesture. “To us,” he said softly, looking directly into her eyes and making her stomach flip.

“To us, Sir,” she repeated, barely able to catch her breath as his gaze penetrated deep into her and slowly melted her insides.

“You don’t have to call me Sir when we’re not in a D/s setting,” he said, with a warm smile. “Adam will suffice.”

“What about at work?” she challenged, with a grin. “Are you still Sir there?”

“Yes, you should continue that. I rather like you calling me Sir at the office.”

“Did Lucy call you Sir?” she asked. From what she’d heard about Lucy, she wouldn’t have taken kindly to being ordered to address him as Sir.

Adam laughed, a deep throaty sound that sent shivers down her spine. “God no, she’d have been horrified if I’d suggested such a thing.”

“So you just made me say it because you knew about my interest in BDSM?” she challenged, keen to learn more about her role at work.

“Yes. I wanted to see how you reacted to it, to see how easy you would find it. You had no problems at all, did you?” His eyes creased and his dimples showed as he smiled at her. Her pulse quickened.

“I was intimidated by you.”

“I know, and I still feel bad about the way I treated you on that first day. But don’t think that just because we have a relationship outside of work, things will change in the office,” he said, firmly. “I can still be a ruthless bastard and will always expect perfection.”

Rachel’s head was spinning as she processed his words. Did he just say ‘relationship’?

“Rachel?” Adam’s voice snapped her back to the present.

“Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

“I said, do you have a problem with working for me at the same time as being my sub?” His voice held that Dom tone again, the one that melted her core, and she could only shake her head to confirm that she didn’t have a problem with that at all.

“Adam?” she whispered.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Last night you said you would be my Dom for the evening. Does this mean that you want to be my Dom all the time?” She held her breath for his answer. She wasn’t sure if she should even have asked the question, but she needed to know.

Adam’s eyes were warm and his voice soft as he replied, “Yes, Rachel, I’d like that very much. If you agree, of course.”

Did she agree? Was chilli hot and ice cold? Too bloody right she agreed. “Yes, Adam,” she managed to say, “I’d like that very much.”

“Good, then let’s drink to that.” He held up his glass and they toasted their new relationship. “I must tell you, though, Rachel, that although I don’t normally mix business with pleasure, I might just have to discipline you for mistakes in a slightly more interesting way than I would have done with any of my other PAs.”

Rachel’s smile was so wide it almost hurt. “That’s not a very sure way to ensure I don’t make mistakes. I think I’m going to like being disciplined by you at work.”

“Don’t be too sure, sweet thing. Your spanking last night was for pleasure—you might not be quite so keen once you’ve tried it for punishment.” His eyes held onto hers, leaving her in no doubt that he meant every word. “I take my role as Dominant very seriously. I can be demanding, unforgiving and will expect your full compliance and obedience. Unconditionally.”

Rachel swallowed nervously as realisation that this wasn’t just a game set in. This was for real. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, “and you will have it.”

Chapter Twelve

Adam’s eyes crinkled into a smile as a waiter discreetly appeared. Rachel wasn’t in the least bit surprised when he ordered their food without consulting her first. She didn’t mind, though—she would happily have eaten dog food at that moment, she was so happy.

“So, you’re divorced, is that right?” she asked, when the waiter had left again. “I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, I don’t mind. Karen and I finally divorced about six months ago,” he said, without looking too distressed about it.

“Why did you split up?” Rachel’s curiosity was fully aroused now and she found herself wanting to know everything about this wonderful, fascinating man.

He shrugged. “We both wanted different things,” he said quietly. “The split was inevitable, there were no kids involved and she had her work to keep her going.”

“Do you still see her?”

“Sometimes. Now, enough about me. I want to hear about you, Rachel. Tell me about yourself.”

She sighed and looked away from him for the first time since they’d sat down. Her focus drifted across the restaurant, as she took in the beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging elegantly from a glass roof. The small, intimate tables were generously spaced so no one was too close to anyone else, and were all dressed with crisp white tablecloths, sterling silver cutlery and the finest cut crystal glasses. Small glass lamps filled with red oil threw dancing shadows across each table, the naked flame creating a romantic and intimate ambience.

“Rachel, I asked you to tell me about yourself.” His voice suddenly held a hint of irritation and she quickly turned her eyes back to him, but remained silent. She hated talking about herself, about her family, her childhood, her relationships.

“There’s not much to tell.” She shrugged. “I’m twenty-eight, originally from Basingstoke, single and PA to Adam Stone, my very sexy and demanding boss.” She flashed him a grin, hoping to distract him.

Luckily, before he had a chance to push for more information, the waiter brought them their starters—seared scallops in butter and garlic. When the waiter had left them again, Adam glared at her. “You’ll pay for that later. You might as well tell me everything there is to know about you now, because I’ll get it out of you one way or another. Trust and honesty, Rachel. I expect that from you. Now eat.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said meekly and picked up her knife and fork. The scallops were delicious and a welcome distraction from Adam’s words. He’d said she’d pay for that. Shit, was he going to punish her? She wished she didn’t find it so difficult talking about her past. Most people loved talking about themselves, but she wasn’t one of them and had mostly got away with it, until now.

As they ate, Adam resumed his quest, changing tack as he said, “You have three A levels, one of them a grade A in mathematics. Why didn’t you go to university?”

She looked away again, struggling to meet his eye contact. “I didn’t want to go to university. I wanted to work so I could earn money to go out and party. What’s so wrong about that?”

“You can party at university,” he said, grimly. “Try again.”

“Adam, please.” She put her fork down and reached over to touch his hand. “You’re right, I do have issues, but it upsets me deeply talking about them and I don’t want to spoil tonight. I promise, another time I’ll tell you everything, but please, Adam, not tonight. Please?” Tears were beginning to well in her eyes and she blinked them quickly away, not wanting him to see her get upset.

She was desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject when, thankfully, the waiter approached with their main course.

As the waiter walked away, Adam stunned her when he asked, “Are you on the contraceptive pill?”

She gawped at him. Well, she had wanted the subject changed.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, as quietly as she could. She didn’t particularly want the whole restaurant to know the intimate details of her contraceptive methods. Although she hadn’t needed it for contraception lately, the pill helped with her painful periods so she’d continued taking it after she had broken up with Paul.

He nodded. “Good. When did you last have sex?”

Bloody hell, he could at least lower his voice a bit.

“About a year ago.” Oh God, she really didn’t want to talk about this now, but the uncompromising look in his eyes told her she didn’t have much choice. “After I broke up with my boyfriend I went off men and haven’t dated since.”

Adam looked happy with her answer. “According to your records on file the last full health check done as part of your health care package was two months ago. You’re fit, healthy and disease-free, right?”

She nodded and shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. My last health check was last week. I haven’t had sex since then so I can assure you that I’m also disease-free.”

God, she really didn’t want to hear this while eating dinner, there’s a time and place for all that shit.

“Are you happy with that?”

“Yes, Sir.”
So is the whole fucking restaurant
.

“Rachel, why are you scowling?”

“I’m not,” she snapped. One look at his face made her change her tone. “I was just hoping nobody could hear you discussing your personal details.
Sir
.”

He laughed, which irritated her even more. “We’re practically whispering. You’re obviously uncomfortable discussing such important details, but it’s necessary in this day and age.”

Their conversation for the remainder of the meal was thankfully a lot less personal, discussing their favourite books and films, music and they even touched on philosophy. She had been surprised to find that Adam, although not particularly religious, was quite spiritual and even spoke of having had a paranormal experience when he was younger. She was fascinated by this man and was more than happy to listen to him talk, not only because he was entertaining, but because it meant they weren’t talking about her.

When they finished their meal, Adam led her out to the car where Rob was waiting. “I can’t wait to get you to the club,” he whispered, as the car sped through the dark London streets. “You’re in for a real treat.”

Rachel laughed. “I can’t wait.” It was true. She was really excited about going back to the club and more specifically being dominated by Adam again.

When they arrived, Adam led her straight through a door behind the reception into a large, airy office and handed her a piece of shiny black material. He grabbed his leathers, kissed her on the mouth and said, “Put this on.”