R.S.V.P. Page 9

  “Want another cup?” Alan angled his head towards her rapidly cooling tea. “I could warm it up for you.”

  Must be something about sitting naked that shoved innuendoes into the most innocent remarks—always assuming anything Alan did was innocent. Jane smiled, willing her face to appear calm. “Half a cup, please.”

  She had to give it to him—he made a good cup of tea. Not that she tasted much with her dry mouth, but it was warm and wet, and sipping it slowly put off the inevitable next step—going upstairs.

  Which she really wanted, didn’t she? If not, why the hell had she given up a nice weekend she could have spent alphabetizing her spice jars or bleaching the grout in her bathroom tiles?

  “You’re smiling,” Alan said. “What’s tickled you?”

  With inexplicable candor, she told him.

  He chuckled. “Regretting already? I haven’t done a thing except make a cup of tea.”

  “And get me to sit and drink it naked.”

  He nodded. “There is that too, but I’m enjoying that!”

  She bet he was! “How about we make it even? Shouldn’t you get naked too?”

  “Later. Jane, my love, that’s the point—you do what I want, and I want you naked and available.” He reached over and cupped her breast, stroking her nipple with his thumb.

  Her breath caught, she couldn’t help it, and as he rolled her now-hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, she sighed.

  He took his hand away.

  Chapter Four

  Jane bit back the moan.

  “Patience, love.” Alan reached across the table and took her hands in his. “Remember, nothing, and I mean nothing, will happen you don’t want. I want to give you pleasure, show you the thrill of submission, the joys involved in giving up power, but the minute you want to stop, we stop.”

  “I say ‘stop’ and you stop. Just like that?”

  “Not quite like that.” She should have guessed. “In the middle of playing, the heat of arousal, you may well say, ‘No’ and mean ‘Yes’. Or ‘No more’ when what you mean is, ‘It’s so incredible I don’t think I can stand it.’” True enough, but… “This is what we do—You want me to stop, say your name, your full name.”

  “Please, no!”

  “Why not?”

  “I question whether I can manage ‘Jane Margaret Amelia Beatrice Winston’ in the heat of passion.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Good point! Tell me, how did you acquire that list?”

  “I was the first female child on my mother’s side of the family after seven assorted brothers and male cousins. My parents didn’t want to slight any ancient female relatives, so I got the lot.”

  “Let’s settle for ‘Jane Winston’. Think you can manage that?”

  “Yes,” she paused. “You really mean it? I say my name, you stop.”

  “I’ll stop. Of course, I may start right up doing something else, but I won’t harm you, Jane, that’s a promise. All I ask of you is the willingness to experiment, to explore your own erotic nature.”

  The same erotic nature that had been on overdrive since she met Alan. “How willing am I supposed to be?”

  “Completely. You follow my lead in everything.” His hands eased up her arms and across the tops of her breasts. “I tell you to stand, you stand. I tell you to kneel, you kneel. I tell you to lie down, you lie down. If I forbid you to move, as I will, you don’t move a muscle.”

  “What about the manacles, chains and floggers?” To say nothing of the stuff in the hall cupboard, and the blue butt plug still sitting in the middle of the shortbread.

  “We’ll have some fun before I take you home Sunday afternoon.”

  Instinct and sheer commonsense told Jane she’d be a different woman when she walked out of here Sunday afternoon—if she lasted that long. “Alan, have you any idea of my misgivings multiplying right now?”

  “Of course.” He stood. “Coming?”

  It was impossible to refuse his outstretched hand.

  Or almost. “Kiss me.”

  A corner of his mouth twitched. “Giving me orders, Jane? I think something’s muddled.”

  She stood up. “Nothing’s muddled, Alan. I’d just like to be reminded why I agreed to come down for the weekend.”

  “A-hah!” He stepped close, resting his hand on the nape of her neck, sliding up to her hairline. “Want a reminder do you, woman?” She nodded, her throat tightening as she looked up at the heat in his eyes. “I’m going to have to take care of this forgetfulness of yours.”

  His mouth came down, hot, hard and demanding. Pulling her head towards him so she had to rise on tiptoe, he all but forced her mouth open with his lips. As she gasped, he thrust his tongue against hers. Seemed as if liquid heat replaced blood in her veins, and wild raging desire eliminated thought and reason. Jane leaned into him, the buckle of his belt and every button on his shirt brushing her naked flesh. His erection pressed against her belly. He was as aroused and needy as she. She whimpered as his tongue caressed hers, stirring her passion higher and driving her wilder with need. She wrapped her arms around his strong back. Leaning in so her breasts were plastered against his chest, Jane let desire flood her mind and body. Alan was more than a lover. He was her desire, her need, her want.

  Feeling his erection grind into her belly, she gasped into his mouth, hardly conscious of her breathing, aware only of his fingers in her hair, his knee between her thighs, his lips on hers, his tongue possessing her mouth and his other hand splayed between her shoulder blades.

  He was all and everything, and she couldn’t help herself. She pressed into his erection, rocking her hips against him, little moans accompanying her rhythm of need.

  “Alan!” she cried out, as he pulled his mouth away.

  “Shh!” He brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth. “Don’t complain. You’ll get what you want, but not just yet.” He took her hand in his. “First you need a shower to get the grime of travel off you.”

  She hadn’t exactly traveled by camel or steam engine, but who in their right mind would refuse a shower with Alan?

  Chapter Five

  They crossed the carpeted landing to a vast bathroom. It took quite an effort on Jane’s part not to gape. It wasn’t just the red carpeted steps leading up to the enormous, sunken black marble whirlpool in one corner, or the black and white tiling from floor to ceiling everywhere, or the matching black loo and bidet and red wash basins, impressive as they were.

  What mesmerized Jane was the red and black freestanding shower, big enough to hold half a dozen quite comfortably. That and the rail across the middle of the shower, and the chain and manacles swinging gently.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “That you have manacles and chains all over the house.”

  “Just these two, for now anyway.” He looked around, “Like it?”

  “Not your standard builder’s bathroom.”

  “Heavens no! It has several special features. Come over here.”

  Deep breath time. Very deep breath. “You’re going to tie me up.”

  “Not completely. I’m going to anchor your hands over your head. Your legs will be free, but you’ll have to stand there while I wash you, and you won’t be able to touch me.”

  Sounded straightforward, but the five or six different showerheads weren’t and the fittings on a couple of the hoses looked decidedly non-standard.

  “Alan…”

  He shook his head. “Jane, time to stop questioning and start trusting. I’m giving you a shower—that’s all. Either step inside and hold your hands up to be restrained, or we go back downstairs and I take you back to the station.”

  Jane took three steps forward. Not stopping to consider the alternative, she looked Alan in the eye and raised her hands. He didn’t speak. Just as well, as her throat sort of seized up as he reached for the manacles.

  They were soft against her skin and not the least tight. Her arms weren’t uncomfortable over her head,
but pulled just enough to make her concentrate on keeping her feet planted firmly.

  “Good girl,” Alan murmured, as he stepped back, brushing her breast with his fingertips. “You’ll learn, darling. Won’t be easy for you, but you’ll learn.”

  As she stood there, looking at her herself in the mirrored wall opposite, Alan stripped. Slowly.

  The sight of Alan naked didn’t exactly take her breath away, more like jammed it up tight into her lungs so she had to remember to breathe. Why had she ever had reservations? She wanted him.

  Unthinking, she reached out to him—or tried to. Throwing her weight forward unbalanced her. Alan leapt forward and caught her round the waist.

  “What are you doing?” he said, steadying her back on her feet.

  “I wanted to touch you!”

  “You will, love, soon, but first, a little soap and warm water, and an exercise in patience.” He stepped into the shower, turning his back to treat her to a fine view of his arse as he leaned over and fiddled with the taps.

  When Alan turned back, he had the shower spray in one hand, and a soapy washcloth in the other. “Close your eyes.”

  Behind the darkness of her lids, flickers of light danced and skipped as warm water cascaded down her back, over her shoulders and down between her breasts. The spray hit the small of her back and the backs of her thighs. A faster, finer spray prickled her belly and teased between her legs. As the warm water hit her clit, she shifted her hips, angling them best to feel the full force of the spray—and damn the man he moved it right away!

  She opened her eyes and glared. “You did that on purpose!”

  “Of course,” he agreed. “Keep still! Shut your eyes, Jane and don’t move. It will be worth it. I promise.”

  Jane closed her eyes again and waited. She heard water against the tiled wall behind, but none of it reached her. “I’m getting chilly.” Complaining, yes…but darn it!

  “Patience, Jane.”

  In the dark, she smelled lavender. The wonderful roughness of a wet loofah stroked down her spine to her tailbone. The scent filled the room, like a summer garden. “Lovely!” she murmured.

  “Thought you’d like that. Pays to obey, doesn’t it?”

  For now at least! “Mmmm.” Seemed a shame to waste effort on words, when she’d rather concentrate on the sensations in her body. Alan was tracing tiny circles all over her back, working downwards over her bum to the backs of her thighs. He used short, straight strokes—thigh to the back of her knee, back of the knee to ankle, up and down before shifting to her other leg.

  A shiver of pleasure jerked her shoulders and her spine stretched and curled as she pulled against the overhead restraints. A sharp tap on one bum cheek stilled her.

  “I know you like this, Jane, but please control yourself.”

  A darn sight easier said than done! But nothing if not willing, Jane took a deep, calming breath. It might have worked, if Alan hadn’t moved and was now anointing her breasts with lavender. Was it bath oil or shower foam? Did it matter? Hardly. But thinking about it distracted her, for a second or two. Did she want to be distracted?

  Wasn’t concentrating on the sensations in her body far, far better? She sighed and sagged against the restraints. Steadying herself as her shoulders pulled.

  Alan nudged the inside of her thigh. Without thinking, Jane shifted her legs apart. She stood squarely, but it wasn’t easy to keep still as he ran the loofah up and down the inside of her legs. “I like that.”

  “I know.” Damn him! He stopped.

  Not for long. He was now drawing circles on her belly, holding her steady with his other hand on her waist. Her legs were getting wobbly, pleasant enough really, if she hadn’t been worried about losing her balance. Her arms were beginning to ache. How much longer? She flexed them to ease the hurt.

  “Getting tired?” Alan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Won’t be long now, I promise.”

  Once again, warm water cascaded over her body. From two directions—front and back. Between both, her body rocked and arched. She couldn’t not move, it was too much, too wonderful. One spray washed over her face, warm, soft and caressing, while stronger, harder jets coursed down her back. It was wonderful, incredible and finished!

  “That should have you nicely relaxed.” Alan held her round the waist, his thigh against hers and his erection brushing her arse as he reached up and released the manacles.

  Her arms dropped, tingling with pins and needles, and he spun her around to face him. He was smiling down at her, his body glistening with drops of water.

  “Think I’m clean enough now?” she asked.

  His mouth twitched at the corners. “You’ll do! But you do have trouble keeping still, Jane.”

  “It’s a bit difficult with you hard beside me!”

  “You just have to make more effort, love. Let’s get dried off.”

  As she stepped onto the deep pile mat, Alan wrapped a large bath towel around her shoulder, before pulling on a toweling robe himself. Jane started rubbing herself dry but he stopped her. “Let me do that.”

  Each pat, each rub of thick towel against her skin, sent a little thrill deep into her cunt. He took far, far longer than necessary drying her breasts, her belly and the sensitive skin on the underside of her butt. Not that she’d complain. She could stand here all evening, but didn’t want to. “Are we going to be here all night?”

  “Oh no, dear. In fact it’s time you did a little something for me.”

  “Want me to dry you off?” She wouldn’t mind running a towel over his nice bod.

  “No, dear. I want you to suck my cock. On your knees, love!”

  Jane knelt. Heart racing, a snap of indignation gone in the thrill of being eye level to his cock—his decidedly wondrous cock. Perhaps not as large as some she’d seen, but perfectly proportioned—long, firm, upstanding, uncircumcised, the smooth pink head nestling in a little cap of foreskin. Looking up at his dark eyes, his face still damp and his hair smoothed back and glossily wet, Jane smiled. “I’d be delighted.”

  Gently she reached up, eased back his foreskin and licked the smooth head with the tip of her tongue. He’d played her. Now was her turn. He wouldn’t last long, she suspected, but while she had the chance…

  Jane flicked her tongue all over the smooth skin, until his hand closed on the back on her head. “Swallow me!” She opened her mouth wide and took him in. Her belly tightened with excitement as her heart sped inside her ribs.

  Alan might think he was getting the ultimate thrill, having her naked, on her knees before him. Did he realize the charge it gave her? The power she felt with his cock—the very essence of his masculinity—between her lips, between her teeth. Did he ever worry about her biting or hurting his most vulnerable part?

  Like a blast of heat, the thrill engulfed her as she curled her tongue around his hard, hot flesh. His hands on her head moved her mouth up and down his cock, but it was her lips that brushed the rim, her tongue that flicked the tight ridge of flesh on the underside of the head, and tasted his sweet bead of moisture. As her mouth enclosed him, her mind adored the cock that would soon fill her cunt. She smiled around his erection, sighing as her clit started a slow, soft throb in rhythm with her mouth.

  “Enough!” Alan eased her head away. “I want to fuck you, Jane.” She’d be utterly delighted. “But do me a favor, love, nip back downstairs and get the butt plug.”

  Talk about switching the mood! Jane had her mouth open to complain but caught his eye. This was what he meant by obedience. At that thought, something tightened between her legs. Need? Desire? Whatever. It was too damn wonderful to waste time wondering. “Okay if I wrap the towel back around me? It’s a bit chilly downstairs.”

  He grabbed a second bathrobe off a hook. “Turn around.”

  He held the robe for her, wrapped it around her and tied the belt. “Stay warm,” he said, “and come back as quickly as you can. I’ll be waiting next door.”

  “Ok
ay.” She turned towards the door.

  “Oh, and Jane…”

  “Yes?” She turned back to him, taking in the sight of his familiar face, his gleaming eyes and his hair, dark and shiny as coal.

  “While you’re downstairs, bring me up the blue flogger you brought with you. High time you got a taste of it.”

  Her throat tightened, her heart raced and a great pool of wetness gathered between her legs. “Please, no!” As the words came out, Jane understood about safewords. If he took her refusal at face value, she’d be hideously disappointed.

  “Oh, yes, Jane. Be glad it has wide tresses. The thin ones hurt much, much more.”

  She’d take his word for it!

  How she made it downstairs and back, she never knew. Was she sick, twisted? Didn’t bear thinking about. Truth was, the thought of the flogger sent her desire peaking. She had to be barking loony to want this. Or was she? Hadn’t Alan always been the consummate lover? The time he’d held her hands down over her head, she’d had the climax of her life. When he whispered in her ear about tying her to the bed, she got wet. Even the discomfort of standing in the shower, hands stretched over her head, had aroused her. Hell, it still aroused her. And just a glimpse at the chain and manacles suspended from the sitting room ceiling, had her wishing he was putting his earlier threat into action.

  “What are you doing?” Alan called from upstairs.

  “Just a minute!” She grabbed the flogger and crossing the kitchen, she popped the hard, rubber plug into her pocket and turned to go upstairs, to her waiting lover, and a session with soft suede.

  Chapter Six

  The sweet smell of lavender still hung around the open bathroom. Alan wasn’t there, but there was only one other door upstairs. Jane turned the brass knob and opened the door.

  And almost ran.

  This was no ordinary bedroom.

  There was a bed, a large four-poster, at one end, but…sheesh, it looked as though someone had taken down walls and made the entire upstairs one huge space. In the middle of the vast room, Alan was waiting in all his lovely, naked glory, wearing a leather mask that hid the top half of his face. Her stomach did a little flip. Something about the way he stood, hands on his hips, sent a cold thrill of fear down her gut and a flutter between her legs.