Thursday, November 15, 2012


erotica with D/s elements
Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane

Part 3

Days turned into weeks and before I knew it nearly two months had passed.  As the weather warmed, we had our lunches outside and we’d talked as we worked.  Somehow, I managed to be productive even with the interruptions.  He asked me out for an official date only once.  I declined, stammering I had a boyfriend.
His features tightened as if a storm cloud had consumed him.  “Don’t lie, Gia.  I don’t know why you’re refusing to go out with me, but it isn’t because you have a boyfriend.  I suspect it’s more because you’re afraid.  Someone hurt you quite badly once upon a time, but it’s over and it’s way past time you let it go.  When you’re ready, let me know.”
He dropped his hammer into his tool belt, grabbed my arm before I could flee the room in embarrassment and yanked me against his hard chest.  I inhaled the masculine scent of him, the coffee on his breath, the fading musk of aftershave.  “In the meantime, take this into consideration, girl.”
His mouth crushed mine with an insistent fervor.  There was no asking in his kiss, no hesitation, not even a semblance of waiting for consent.  He took every ounce of resistance from me and claimed it.  His tongue met and ravished mine, his hands tore over my body, sampling it as if he had every right, and Lord help me, I responded.  I opened up to him like a flower’s first taste of sun.  My hands were just as wanton, skimming his muscles, thirsting after his sex.  Somehow, my jacket had fallen, my blouse became unbuttoned and fingers squeezed and massaged my breast while his free hand had slipped into my pants, finding the hot button and tormenting it.  He could have thrown me on the floor and had me without an ounce of opposition.  I couldn’t stop moaning, couldn’t stop reacting.  It was as if I were a puppet and he the master.  I spread my legs for him, my mouth, my heart.   I held nothing back. 
Abruptly, he tore away, panting, but fully in control.  I stumbled backward.  He studied me long and hard, his eyes burning like my body.  Without another word, he returned to work.  I looked down at my disheveled appearance and with trembling fingers put myself back together before snapping up my purse and leaving.
I called out sick the next several days, hoping he wouldn’t be there when I returned.  Yet, aching with the thought I might never see him again.  He was there, and acted as if nothing had happened.  I followed suit.  We went back to our lunches after a time, but that episode reminded me of how easily I could be seduced and discarded.  Still, I found myself catering to him, bringing him his coffee just the way he liked it, even occasionally packaging up meals for him to take home. 
I noticed the work was winding down, and that soon I would no longer see him.  I knew him to be a man of his word and that if I wanted a relationship I’d be the one who’d have to ask.  Finally, I summoned my courage, but not until after he left for the day.  I saw him in the courtyard, walking toward the parking lot.  Before I could change my mind, I grabbed my purse, rushed down the open stairs and out the door.  He was already in his car and pulling out of the lot by the time I got there.  I fumbled with my keys, but soon had the car started and followed his car several vehicles behind.  I found it impossible to catch up to him, but I let out a long breath of relief when he pulled into a restaurant parking lot.   Having caught the light, I was a full five minutes behind him when I entered the establishment. 
It was part bar, part eatery, and had a medieval theme to it.  I told the hostess I was looking for someone and describe Chase.  She immediately knew him and said he was with the party who rented the back room once a month.  She escorted me there and I peeked over the cafe doors.  I spotted him immediately.  I also spotted a woman kneeling at his feet.  I couldn’t decide what shocked me more: her kneeling there or that I wanted to be the one who knelt.  He said something to her and she stood.  An instant later, she flung herself into his arms, kissing him wildly. 
It hit me that I wanted too long.  He had a girlfriend.  I closed my eyes against the hot, stinging tears.  When I opened them again, he was walking toward me.  He had seen.  I hadn’t been this mortified since the kiss.  I spun away and dashed through the restaurant.  He caught up to me in the parking lot.  “Gia!” she commanded.  “Stop running.”
“I… I… wasn’t following you,” I lied, facing him.  “I was going to have a bite and…”
“Stop it!  No more running and no more lies.  I saw you following me.”
I faced him.  “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Then ask.”
I thought of the woman, of the way she kissed him.  I thought of the way I kissed him with as much abandon as she.  “It’s not important.”
“You follow me all the way here and it’s not important?”
I shook my head.
His gaze took me in and I couldn’t read his expression.  “Did he hurt you that badly?”
I didn’t respond.
Chase muttered a curse.  “That’s it.  I give up, girl.  I totally give up.”
With that he turned and took measured, perfect steps back to the restaurant and that strange woman.
He worked at the convent for two more days.  Although I still brought him lunch, we no longer spoke.  He didn’t even tell me when he had finished for good.  My boss, Mother Agatha told me, revealing that except for the window-seat, which he did under cost, the rest he did free of charge.  He had confided in her that he thought he found the woman he had searched a lifetime for, someone who was compatible with his mindset, his way of life, someone he could love unconditionally.  He had thought if he gave that girl time, she would open up and respond to him.
Mother Agatha had been quite happy to give him the opportunity.  Knowing my history, she felt that he would be good for me.  Only now did I realize that I had fallen in love with Chase, and it was too late.  Just a day later I was here, probably at the hands of a madman, and I didn’t even know where here was!  Just who thought he had the right to abduct me and tie me up?  Thoughts of rapists and murderers clamored for attention.  My heart pulsated at an intolerable rate.  My flesh trembled and hot, brewing tears erupted.  Yet, that fear was tame in comparison to fresh terror I felt as someone blew softly on my neck.  His breath was warm, caressing, intoxicating.  One should not feel intoxicated by a stranger.  My body, though, had considerations of its own.  When strong fingers slid over the length of my back and buttock, I couldn’t stop a moan anymore than the hot, liquid flow from nether lips.  You see, the terror wasn’t just of the man; it was of my own reactions, hot, torrid and nearly untamable.  How could I respond like this? What was wrong with me?  I just lost the man I loved, truly loved and yet I couldn’t stop reacting to a stranger!
            A masculine chuckle suggested my abductor knew just how he affected me, and that he was rather pleased by it.  I wanted to tell him to stop, to leave me alone, but then he came up from behind, his hands cupping my breasts, massaging for long minutes, and then pinching my nipples until they grew taut and achy between his fingers.  Embarrassment flooded my body, and I felt the flush spread over my skin with the same lazy fluidity as his roaming hands. 
            The air stirred as he moved around to the front of me, and my flush grew in intensity.  How could it not?  I was totally vulnerable and helpless before him, spread out like a buffet to be sampled and consumed.  I told myself to scream, to object, to simply say no, or stop.  I could say nothing, could feel nothing but the persistent tide of sensation.  He no longer touched me, but I still felt his presence, very close.  Then I heard the clear chime of ice against glass.
Before I could contemplate the significance of that sound, he ran an ice cube over my lips, slowly.  Tiny drops slipped over my chin, trailing down my neck and between my breasts.  I couldn’t help but wrap my lips around that cube and suck on the refreshing cold even as I thought of sucking something else, something far from cold, something very hot and hard. 
            He allowed my play for a moment, then the cube moved over my flesh, chilling my throat and my shoulder, then down my breasts lower and lower until it swirled around those already protruding buds.  It blended a mixture of infinitesimal pain with such erotic stimulation; I could barely feel the cold.  Instead, I burned.  My nether lips pulsated with a gasping need.  More liquid heat poured from me.  I felt myself gaping open, and had to resist the urge to beg him for things that a properly brought up lady never even considered.  As if in acknowledgement of the blazing inferno trapped within my sex, he placed a second ice cube at the opening.  I jerked in reaction, and almost protested at the startling, frigid chill, but then his lips covered mine and attention scurried to the taste of masculine lips and a probing tongue.



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