Daniel stared at the girl on the bed for a moment while Kingsley stood next to him smirking. He’d been no saint and no celibate during the past year and a half. Although his heart remained faithful to the girl he’d spent one perfect week with, his body had demanded more than bittersweet memories. He’d had lovers—several of them—during his travels in South America. But they’d been vanilla encounters only. He’d never felt close enough to the women or safe enough to reveal the real Daniel to them. So while the sex—passionate and rough—had satisfied his physical hunger, his soul still craved so much more.
“Anything I should know?” Daniel asked.
“She’s well-trained. Her safe word is ‘Stalin.’ She’s not in love with pain but don’t be afraid to be…” Kingsley paused, tried out a French word or two and then apparently found the best English equivalent, “…thorough.”
“Thorough,” Daniel repeated, the word causing his groin to tighten pleasantly.
“Enjoy your lunch. I’ve already had mine.”
“Then what’s that?” Daniel nodded to the end of the hall where a young man—pale and handsome and at least ten years Kingsley’s junior—waited outside the door to the master bedroom.
“Dessert, bien sûr.”
Kingsley and his dessert disappeared into the room and Daniel found himself alone with Irina.
He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.
For a full minute he stood directly behind Irina so he couldn’t see her face. The hair was a shade too light and the body a bit too thin and tall, but if he wanted, he could almost pretend this beautiful submissive was…
No. He stopped his thoughts in their tracks. He’d done that to Eleanor the first time they’d had sex. He’d closed his eyes, pretended he had Maggie back. Now he regretted it; regretted that their first time together he hadn’t been with her. Never again would he do that to any woman.
“Irina,” he said her name.
A little thrill of satisfaction shot through him and rooted deep in his stomach.
“Did you know my mother’s maiden name was Gorski?”
Irina’s back slightly stiffened.
“Daughter of Polish immigrants. Fled their home country during the war. Do you want to guess why?”
“Better weather, Sir?” she asked, a tremor in her voice.
Daniel grinned at the back of her head. He took a step toward the bed. And another. Reaching out he gathered a fistful of her long dark hair in his hand and held it off her neck.
“They were fleeing the atrocities being committed by the Russian army.”
He brought his mouth to her ear.
“But don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you…much.”
Irina inhaled sharply. He secretly hoped she was rethinking her safe word choice.
Slowly he ran his fingers up and down the column on her spine. Such smooth soft pale skin…unmarked, untouched…
“I usually don’t beat a woman on a first date.” He forced her head to the side and exposed her neck. Gently he bit at the pulse point beneath her ear.
“Is this a date…Sir?” she asked and Daniel laughed softly in her ear.
If he trusted himself enough he would cover her from neck to ankles in welts. But he hadn’t played this game in a year and a half and he worried he’d cross the line if he let himself completely go. Soon perhaps…but not yet.
As he assaulted her neck and sculpted shoulder with kisses, his open hand traced a line from her neck, over each full breast, and down her stomach. He found her clitoris and felt it swell against his fingertips. Irina inhaled sharply and he gave her ear a quick nibble before pulling away and leaving her panting.
Daniel glanced around the room. He’d never played in here before but that wouldn’t be a problem. He already knew where everything was. Next to the bed—king-size, of course as everything in the Kingsley’s townhouse was king-sized—he found a crystal bowl filled with an assortment of condoms. Under the bed he found three different large cases, all color-coded. He pulled out the silver case where Kingsley stored the bondage supplies. He hadn’t beaten a woman in a year and half, not since that night with Eleanor, but he’d been rappelling up and down mountainsides for months. Rope…knots…that he could handle. Daniel stared a moment at the white briefcase, the one that contained the S&M toys and left it under the bed. Kingsley said Irina wasn’t in love with pain. He’d wait to practice his dormant flogging skills on someone more into saying ouch. No worries though. He pulled out the black suitcase instead.
After all Kingsley did say she liked it thorough.
He didn’t speak to her as dug through the silver case. With her face away from him she could only hear what he did but not see it. Daniel bit back a smug grin—okay, maybe he did like a little mindfuck after all.
From the case he pulled out a length of black silk rope, one set of ankles cuffs and a two foot spreader bar. He tossed the bar and the cuffs on the bed—he wouldn’t need those until later.
Without asking permission, he pushed Irina onto her stomach and wove the rope around both wrists and both ankles leaving only a length of about six inches between her hands and feet. He’d considering hog-tying her but didn’t want to strain her back too much. That hadn’t been a concern with Eleanor who wasn’t just petite but had a rather accommodating body…the evening he found out just how accommodating had been one of the better nights of his life.
After tying up Irina he stopped to look at her. Was there anything in the world more erotic than a woman who’d given herself up completely to his hands? The power constituted only a small part of the erotic equation. The trust even more so.
Once more he ran his hands over her body, down her arms, through her long hair, even over the soles her feet—a move that caused her to flinch. His cock had hardened almost painfully as he’d bound her and now it pressed against the zipper of his jeans aching to be released.
He hoped his and Kingsley’s definition of thorough were the same.
With a two quick movements, he had Irina on her side, her head resting right at the edge of the bed. Daniel gripped the back of her neck with his left hand while his right hand opened his pants. He let the tip of his cock lightly touch her waiting lips.
He didn’t have to give her the order to take him into her mouth. Without hesitation she wrapped her lips around him and sucked deep. His hand tightened on her neck enough he knew he risked leaving bruises. She didn’t seem to mind.
With careful undulations of his hips, he thrust into her mouth. God, it felt like the first time he’d really had sex since Eleanor left him. During his vanilla encounters his body had been on autopilot. Now the real Daniel started coming back to life again.
Even as a Dominant he always considered himself a gentleman. He never inflicted pain without bringing about equal or greater measure of pleasure to his submissive. His hand slid from Irina’s neck to her breasts and he toyed with her nipples…gently at first and then with greater intensity as she began to moan with need. The moaning caused the back of her throat to vibrate. Daniel breathed in deep and forced himself not to come right inside her mouth.
God, he’d missed this.
He pulled out of her mouth. With practiced ease he untied the knots and released Irina.
“Feet on the floor, face the bed.” He snapped his fingers and pointed right at the spot where he wanted her.
She obeyed quickly but without undue haste. He took the rope and left her standing at the side of the bed while he walked around to the other. Squatting down, he flipped up the bedskirt and wrapped the rope around the bed-frame. With the ends of the rope in his hand he crooked his finger at Irina, a silent command for her to lean forward and stretch her arms out toward him. He knotted the rope around her wrists and secured her to the bed. She pulled hard, automatically testing the strength of his knots. Daniel watched her gauge the restraints—those knots of his had kept him alive two thousand meters above sea level. They’d certainly hold one woman to the bed. And no chance either the bed-frame would break or bend. The beds in Kingsley’s house could survive the blitzkrieg. Or Kingsley’s sex life—itself a kind of blitzkrieg.
Daniel walked back to Irina’s side of the bed. He’d tied her wrists together and strapped her to the bed. But she wasn’t quite immobile enough for him yet.
Well-trained indeed, Irina stood completely still as Daniel tapped the back of her knee signaling her to bend her leg. One at a time he buckled each bondage cuff onto her ankles. With two snap hooks he secured her ankles to the two-foot spreader bar. Once finished he took a few steps back to admire his captive Russian. In her current posture she could hide nothing of herself from her.
“Arch your back,” he ordered. With her legs open and her back arched, he could almost see right inside her. Inside her sounded like an excellent idea to him.
Standing directly behind her, Daniel caressed Irina’s back, her bottom, hips and thighs. He touched her gently, lightly, until she groaned with frustration.
And then with the full force of every muscle in his arm and back and torso, he slapped the back of her upper thigh.
Irina gave an utterly shocked and satisfying yelp of pain. He glanced down and saw a bright red handprint on her skin.
Daniel stretched across her back and pressed his mouth to her ear.
“That was for the ‘better weather’ joke.”
Irina didn’t answer. She’d still feel that hit tomorrow with every step she took.
“Say you’re sorry and I won’t do it again…today.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Daniel stood up again and massaged the red and burning welt.
“I aimed for the thigh on purpose. The skin on the ass is a little too thick. The thighs hurt more.”
Daniel moved his hand to the apex of her thighs. Once more her found her clitoris and kneaded it. He felt the heat of her against his hand, heat that drew him in. He pushed a single finger inside her and let the heat envelop him.
“Kingsley said you weren’t in love with pain. As wet as you are, I might have to argue with him.”
She breathed hard as he pushed a second finger in.
“I was that wet before you hit me, Sir.”
“Were you? And why is that?”
“Because-” she began and stopped for another breath as he pushed in a third finger. His cock pulsed as her muscles contracted around his hand. “Because…I want you to fuck me, Sir.”
Daniel smiled at her prone and helpless body.
“You aren’t the first woman who’s ever said that to me.” He had, in fact, lost count of how many women had said that to him. “But since I’ve never heard it in a Russian accent before, I’m tempted to do just that.”
“Please, Sir,” she begged. He loved that note of desperation in her voice, that hunger. He’d missed kinky women so much.
He reached into the bowl by the bed and pulled out a condom. Within seconds he had it on and waited, braced at the entrance of her body. Slowly he pushed into her wet heat, filling her one inch at a time.
Groaning with pleasure, Irina gripped the ropes that bound her as Daniel held onto her hips and began thrusting. He took slow, deep breaths and concentrated on the elegant lines of Irina’s long back, the way the sunlight turned her hair almost red…he concentrated on anything but the excruciating pleasure of being inside this beautiful submissive.
He felt Irina contracting around him as her body neared orgasm and he forced himself to pull out.
After all, Kingsley had said “thorough.”
Daniel snapped open the black case which held the sex toys and pulled out a vibrator and one of several tubes of lube.
“Any objections to anal?” he asked as he applied the lube to her.
“Only that I don’t have it often enough…Sir.”
Thorough—good word indeed.
This time the groan of pleasure came from Daniel as he carefully penetrated her. He didn’t thrust, however. Not yet. He took the vibrator off the bed, turned it on, and started to push it inside Irina.
She gasped and buried her face into the bedspread. Daniel let her ragged breathing guide him as he continued to press it deeper in her.
“Can you take both?” he asked, brushing her hair off her face. For all he loved sensual torture, he’d stop in a heartbeat if he actually harmed her.
“Yes.” She gasped the word. “Please.”
At the “please” he kissed the side of her face and pushed the vibrator all the way in. No more did he force himself to hold back. He thrust now hard and deep and rode her with long, desperate strokes. With every push she gasped. He could feel the thrumming through the thin wall that separated him from the vibrator. His eyes nearly watered from the need to come. But he held back, dug his hands deeper into her skin and kept pushing.
“Sir?” was all Irina could say.
“Come,” he ordered and with a hoarse cry, Irina let go coming with a spasm that shook her entire body. She groaned something in Russian, and the one still functioning rational part of his brain reminded himself to look it up later.
Daniel closed his eyes as his own climax overtook him. He’d fought it off so long that when he came, it felt like the orgasm would never end.
A grunt of discomfort from underneath him brought Daniel back to himself. Carefully he took the vibrator out of her and pulled out. He left her tied down and panting on the bed while he disposed of the condom. He untied her finally and released her from the spreader bar.
With a spent decadent giggle, Irina rose off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Daniel didn’t laugh back…or smile. He ran his hands from her wrists to her shoulders and gave her a long hard blue-eyed stare—The Ouch, as Maggie called it. He pushed her onto her back on the bed and straddled her thighs. He pulled off his shirt and threw it to the floor as pinned her hard to the mattress and took a nipple into his mouth.
Daniel loved thorough.
After two hours of teaching Irina that Kingsley wasn’t the only Dominant in town who knew the meaning of thorough, Daniel finally gave up and crawled from the bed. He felt as tired as he had after scaling Aconcagua in Argentina two months ago…and just as exuberant.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Irina said as Daniel pulled he jeans back on.
“Put on clothes. Clothes is not a good look for you.”
Irina lay on her side watching him with that same lascivious look she’d given him in Kingsley’s upstairs office. Daniel decided that was what he missed most about being around women in the scene. Vanilla women played coy and acted as if admitting their attraction to him was some sort of personal defeat. He got so bored with the flirting, the seducing. He had much more respect for a woman who asked for what she wanted—especially if what she wanted was him. Never had that been problem with Maggie, and certainly not with Eleanor. Eleanor had whispered a few things in his ear that had made even him almost blush.
“What’s her name?”
Daniel tensed but didn’t answer at first. He found his shirt and tugged it over his head.
“Who?” he asked.
“The girl in your eyes.”
Signing, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed as Irina propped up on a pillow not bothering to pull a sheet over her breasts. Shameless. What a wonderful quality in a woman.
“I don’t think I could see if I had a girl in my eyes.”
Irina raised her hand and ran her fingers through his hair much in need of cutting.
“Your grandmother was Polish. My grandmother was Roma. I see things. And I see a girl in your eyes. What’s her name?”
Nothing good would come of answering her question. But Irina had given herself to him and held nothing back of herself. He owed her equal transparency.
Irina’s eyes widened.
“You don’t mean…his Eleanor, do you?”
Daniel gave a low rueful laugh. His Eleanor
“I guess I do. You know her?”
Irina nodded. “Of course I know her. The White Queen? Everyone knows her.”
“The White Queen? Is that what you submissives call her behind her back?”
Irina shrugged. “Or to her face. It makes her laugh. Everything makes her laugh. He makes her wear a white collar, you know. Just like his. And I’ve never seen her in any other color than white.”
“The white I get. But she’s a sub, not a queen.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” Irina asked, grinning.
Daniel had to concede the point. Eleanor had been a revelation to him. He’d never met a woman like her before. He’d loved his wife with a ferocity and possessiveness that took his breath away sometimes. But he’d known Maggie—known her more intimately than he knew himself. Eleanor had been something else entirely. She’d shocked him out of the waking coma he’d been living in his wife’s death. She had been his blitzkrieg. Had she ordered him to drop to his knees and worship at her feet, he might have obeyed.
“I suppose she was a bit more intimidating than the usual sub.”
“That girl,” Irina said, slipping out from under the sheets, “is no sub.”
Daniel only stared at Irina as she took her clothes from the back of a chair and started to dress.
“What do you mean?”
“There are submissives…and there are people who submit. She’s the later. I have met sadists less intimidating than her. She’s either a Dominant in denial or a Switch.”
Daniel cast his mind back to his one week with Eleanor. He’d ordered her to do things and she’d obey…sometimes after laughing in his face. She even taunted Daniel that compared to him, her real owner, he was about as scary as a baby bunny. In her eyes Daniel’d seen anger, desire, hunger, amusement, but never fear. Not once. And not once had he seen her in the least bit cowed.
“Not a chance. No Dominant in the world could play sub that well.”
“Really?” Irina asked as she pulled on her black blouse and belted it around her waist. “How do you think I just did?”
Irina shoved her feet into her boots and gave him a waiting look. Daniel remained speechless.
“You can’t be…”
Irina patted him on the side of the face in a manner so patronizing that all doubts about her Dominant status were instantly erased.
“Can’t I?” She flicked open her tiny purse and handed him a card. Solid black with silver print, it read only Irina followed by a phone number, Kingsley’s business number. All the Doms and subs who worked for Kingsley had business cards with nothing on them but a single name and phone number—the Doms had black cards with silver ink, the subs white cards with black ink. “Call me. Next time I’ll make you beg for it.”
She started to walk away.
“In chess…” Daniel began as he cast his mind over the rules of the game he hadn’t played in years.
“Yes?” Irina turned around.
“In chess, the Queen is more powerful than the King.”
Irina gave him a wicked grin.
“You said it. Not me.”
With one quick kiss she left him and Daniel stood in the room gazing at the door. Finally he worked up the wherewithal to put on his shoes and step into the hall. He found Kingsley lounging in one of several Chesterfield chairs that littered the long hallway. Between his fingers he held one of his hand-rolled cigarettes and from his lips he blew out a small smoke ring that he shoved his finger through.
“Subtle,” Daniel said.
“I am nothing if not subtle, mon ami.”
Daniel crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
“Thought you were trying to quit.” He nodded at the cigarette.
“I am trying…just not very hard.” Kingsley stubbed out the cigarette and stood up. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”
Daniel glared at Kingsley as he slowly rose from the chair.
“She’s a Dominatrix.”
The glare continued.
“I like all the Dominants on my payroll to bottom every now and then,” Kingsley continued. “It’s a good learning experience.”
Kingsley and Daniel walked down the stairs.
“You used to pro-Dom,” Daniel reminded him.
Kingsley raised his eyebrow at him as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Daniel, I can’t imagine what you’re implying.” Kingsley gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look.
Daniel couldn’t decide whether to laugh or punch the look off Kingsley’s face. But the sudden appearance of Anya at in the entryway distracted him from the decision-making process.
Anya gave Kingsley a curtsy and Daniel a look of pure loathing. To Kingsley she passed a sheath of messages. To Daniel she gave another look of pure loathing. Daniel rather hated knowing the girl was both virginal and off-limits. Every time she looked at him like that he mentally put another handprint on her ass. Such a shrew needed taming.
Kingsley dismissed her in French and with one more disgusted glance at Daniel she flounced off. Daniel couldn’t help but notice the girl’s trim hips and shapely legs in her too short sailor dress.
“I know what you’re thinking…” Kingsley sang as he glanced through his messages.
“No, you don’t.”
“You want to show our little sailor what sort of Seaman you are.”
Daniel laughed. “Okay, maybe you do know what I’m thinking. Apparently as I’m Canadian, I’m on her eternal shit list.”
“She doesn’t really hate you because you’re Canadian. She hates you because you’re dressed like merde.”
Daniel looked down at his clothes. “I was in Peru yesterday. I’m very well-dressed for Peru.”
Kingsley tossed the messages onto a table and gave him a long look.
“You’re not in Peru anymore, my friend. I’ll call my tailor. You go see him tomorrow.”
Daniel exhaled heavily. None of his old clothes fit very well anymore. Although he’d always been in good shape, a year of climbing mountains had broadened his shoulders and shrunk his waistline. And Kingsley did have the best tailor in town.
“I hadn’t planned on a long stay in the city,” Daniel reminded him. He had his country house to check on too. Not that he particularly relished going back there. Too many memories waited for him—memories of the last year with Maggie as he watched her die, three years of hell after she’d gone, and one week of bliss when Eleanor came to him.
“Change your plans. At least stay in town through the auction.”
“Why?” Daniel asked. He had no intention whatsoever of bidding on Anya. Not even to terrify her with the very idea of giving up her virginity to a poorly-dressed English-speaking Canadian.
Kingsley slapped him on the arm and turned around.
“Because you’re in it, mon ami.”
To be continued…
Read the Prequel to Daniel Part Two: SEVEN DAY LOAN
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