A Shimmer of Silk (8 page)

"Look at me. That is good. You have feelings ready to
be unleashed."

"Perhaps, but…"

"No, no buts, Deborah. Trust me as you say you
do." He cranked the ties ever lower.

She swallowed but said nothing. A faint sheen on her skin
gave notice of her arousal even if she didn't.

"Good girl. Now keep your eyes on those silken binds.
Imagine the silk caressing your skin, touching your quim; your juices changing
the color from silver as they seep into them." He watched her eyes dilate,
darken, and open wide.

"
Ohhh
."

Yes
. She was ready for him.

"Later." Relief warred with disappointment on her
expressive face. Oliver schooled himself to remain impassive.

"You enjoyed my creation in wax on your chest earlier.
I have no need to go there again." He moved to rest inside her legs, bent
forward, kissed her lips, and let his tongue slip through them as she opened
for him. With one hand he slipped inside her channel to gather the juices
there. Her muscles clenched around him. How he looked forward to feeling his
cock deep in that warmth, thrusting into and filling her.

He lifted his mouth from hers, enjoying her moan of
disappointment, and rubbed her lips with her pre cum. "Taste." His
tone brooked no arguments.

She opened her mouth to his digits, which were liberally
coated in her juice. Then she sucked.

His cock responded with a surge of heat that would have threatened
to rip his breeches was he wearing any.

Her eyes widened as tiny drops of pre cum left the tip to
drip onto her stomach.

"Soon you will suck my prick in such a manner. Before I
impale you on it for a session, so deep, so intense we both will scarce be able
to move."

With a studied deliberation he rolled her nipples between
his fingers, changing the pressure, the way he moved his hands over her areolae.
He caressed each soft globe. If it was possible, it seemed her breasts grew
under his ministrations. Deborah began to pant; her skin was slick with arousal.
He could see the fine hairs on her arms stand up.

"You will not come until I say so, Deborah, you need to
learn restraint." To his delight she chuckled.

"It seems I am to do so, My Lord, in more ways than
one." She looked up at the ropes and ties above her.

Ah, how he loved these unexpected asides from her. "As
ever, you are correct.
But not all at once."
Was
that disappointment that showed for one brief moment? He rubbed the tip of his
cock over the entrance of her hole. She arched toward him and he nipped her
nub. "No, stop dictating. Are you sure you are a submissive, my love? For
you so often try to direct me."

To his horror she paled. "My Lord, I …" She shook
her head and closed her eyes. "I want all of you. I see heaven in my grasp,
and I'm scared it will slip away before I experience it."

"Deborah, look at me. Or I leave and Felton will
release you and send you on your way. For one who says she trusts me, you show
little evidence of it." He surged into her in one smooth thrust, filling
her as his balls hit her. "Perhaps I have been lapse in showing you."

With one hand he held himself up so as not to crush her. With
the other he pinched her nub. "Come now."

She screamed as he pushed her over the edge; her moans,
mewls, and shudders surrounded him. It took every bit of his determination to
pull out and spill his cum onto her body, not inside her. His cock quivered as
it emptied onto her breasts and stomach. Under him Deborah jerked as her orgasm
took its course, until slowly she quieted. His chest heaved and he took great
mouthfuls of air. He had not intended to play the scene that way, but he could
not be displeased with the way things had turned out.

He took his time as he leaned over her and untied her hands,
rubbing her wrists until she
sighed
her relief. For
one not happy with restraints her composure and reactions were magnificent.

She groaned as he let each arm rest at her sides and turned
to release her ankles. He followed the sequence of rubbing and stroking until
her moans of pain turned to those of pleasure.

"Assume the position, Deborah." He wondered what
her reaction would be. Did she even know what he meant?
"On
the floor."

It seemed she did. In one smooth flowing motion—amazing as
she had so recently been restrained in one position for so long—she swung one
leg high over him to enable her to slide gracefully off the bed and kneel
before it, head bowed and hands behind her back. Oliver moved to the very edge
of the bed and rested his feet on the floor either side of her. With his index
finger he lifted her chin.

"You are eager, love. Shall we play some more?" Her
eyes dropped to his prick, semi erect and growing harder as he contemplated the
woman kneeling before him.

"I think I would enjoy that, My Lord."

"Hmm.
I wonder… Bring me the uppermost knife
from the wall."

****

Had she really heard him right? Deborah half rose and fell
back onto her heels. Above her Oliver was silent, waiting. Why was she
hesitating? Had he not shown her she was safe? It really was now or never.

With a show of indifference she didn't feel, she rose and walked
to where the knives were. Her skin tingled, that sparking telltale giveaway she
had felt when he watched intently as he had created candle wax patterns on her
earlier.

The knife glowed in the flickering lights from the candles
in the sconces above them, creating shifting shadows over the smooth metal. Her
body seized as she tried to direct her arms to the hooks holding it in place.

I can do this. Come on. It is
easy. He will not harm me. I love him…
Where had that come from? Surely it was
not possible? Lust for him, eagerness for his touch, but not love, not on such
short a relationship. They barely knew each other. The thought jolted her. She
wanted
to know him, to see what
developed.

On that thought, she reached up and took the knife down,
weighing it carefully in her hands. It was no hunting knife, the balance was
wrong. No doubt he would explain when he was ready. As she held it out to
Oliver, Deborah was pleased to see her hands were steady.
 
No nervous shake or twitch betrayed her
anxiety.

He took it from her with a dip of his head. "Do you
know what this is for?"

"No, My Lord."

Oliver twisted it over and over between his fingers before
he carefully touched the back of one of his hands with the tip. "There is
more than one type of knife play."

Her heart stopped beating. She forgot to breath. His gaze
was ever watchful, waiting for her reply.
Oh
heavens, if he is to tattoo me with it, can I cope?
 
She couldn't speak without clearing her throat.
How she wished to take the glass of wine from the nearby table and drink it down
in one mouthful. "I, er, yes, My Lord."

"So, do I tie you, or will you stand for me?"

Those butterflies were back in her tummy again, beating
their wings, demanding to be let free. She would not give in to them.
"As you wish, My Lord."

"And I wish for you to decide."

Bastard.
She cocked her head to one
side, knowing there was no right or wrong answer.
"Perhaps
untied?
To try my ability to remain still?"

"And so you can move away easily?"

He knew her so well for such a brief acquaintance. "Um,
yes, My Lord, but it also means I could be injured, if I move and disturb
whatever you may be doing."

His gaze unnerved her; it was unwavering. "Lie face
down over the bench. Rest your tummy on it, leave your cunt and breast away and
not touching it. Grab each bar." He gestured with the knife to a wide
padded bench just beyond the bottom of the bed. "Face toward the bed. Good
girl."

Even before he had finished speaking she was on the move.
Deborah stared at the thick padded seat dubiously. It looked like any soft
furnishing, except for holes spaced along the wooden base at regular intervals.
She couldn't—wouldn't—hazard a guess what
they
were for. Settling herself as he directed, she felt open and on view, a strange
feeling when she was lying face down.

His hand caressed her back.

Deborah jolted a little. She had been so immersed in her
thoughts she hadn't heard him approach.

He moved his hand across her arse and traced the crease
between her cheeks. His finger circled her anus and she clenched her muscles
together.

"Relax, not there, not yet. Have you ever been fucked
in the arse, Deborah? Felt that sweet pleasure pain as you open like a rose
unfurls,
and a thick ready cock fills you?"

She hadn't, but the picture he painted made her moan and
spill
her juices.
"N… no, My
Lord."

"But you would like to." It wasn't a question,
though she chose to interpret it thus.

"With you, yes, I would."

His finger edged in slightly, not far enough to penetrate
the ring of muscles denying access. "Then one day soon we will. First though."
She felt a slight nip as if he teased her skin with a needle. It wasn't pain. It
was tiny bee stings, trailing up her spine, and across her shoulder.

"At any time you can use your safe word, love. Until
you do, I'll carry on. This is a tiny bit more intense. The sting will last
longer. I'm not cutting you. There will be no lasting scars, but for a few days
you will have my mark etched onto your skin." For a few seconds the pinpricks
stopped as he paused.

She presumed he was waiting to see if she was happy. "It's
good. It stings, but hints at pleasure, not pain." Was that the way to describe
the surge of sensation rolling through her?

"Excellent, so perhaps now we need to instigate a scale
of awareness. One is little sensation, ten is high, almost untenable, but not
pain.
Sauf
is stop. Do you understand?"

Why does he feel the need to question
my ability to understand him?
Although Deborah realized Oliver was safety conscious to
the nth degree, it irked her he had so little faith in her comprehension.
Nevertheless she answered him in the affirmative.

There was the muted sound of a chair being dragged across
the carpet. With her head hanging low, her hair was obscuring her vision
somewhat, but she saw him sit.

He pushed her legs wide to touch each base pole of the bench.
"Place them next to your hands, love. That is a sight I will never grow
tire of. Your arse presented to me, open and ready for my cock to fill.
Your breast showing themselves, your nipples hard and ready to be
nipped and nibbled.
Your cunt…" Two long fingers slipped inside her
slit and scissored. "Ah, wet and demanding attention
.
'Tis so beautiful to see it devoid of curls, bare and glistening with the
evidence of your awareness of me.
My fingers are drenched, taste."
He thrust his fingers into her mouth. She tasted her essence and her body
responded by producing more. His other hand nipped and soothed her nether lips,
slipping in and out of her cunt to stroke her mound. His body leaned against
her, holding her in place, the warmth of his skin washing over her, the scent
of him filling her…

The sharp graze of the knife crashed through her sensual
haze and she screamed. Not in pain, in mind blowing pleasure.

Chapter Nine

Knife in hand, Oliver recognized the sound for what it was.
Arousal so deep, so sweet, it made his cock tighten with anticipation. Carefully
he traced the lines of the Chinese character he had chosen to etch on her
shoulder.
 
It had taken many long months
to hone this art, to scratch without breaking the skin, to produce pleasure and
markings that were finite in their existence.

With each scrape of his knife, she moaned, and gasped. Her arousal
showed on her gleaming legs. Her skin was rosy as if he had issued one hundred
taps to it. It was one of the most magnificent sights he had ever experienced.

"Your number for pleasure?"
He reminded her as he essayed
a down-stroke across her shoulder blade.

"Nine.
Tis amazing.
Pain is
four."

"Did I ask for your pain level?" he asked in a
mild tone, secretly pleased she had offered the information without prompting.

"No, My Lord, but I wanted you to know. I am wet and I
yearn for more.
Of all and everything."

He vouchsafed no reply, but finished his final knife stroke.
"There, I have inscribed my mark on you. It will sting but briefly, remain
no more than a day or two, but it will remain in my memory for ever." He
put his hands under her arms and stood her up, sweeping her hair to fall over
one shoulder. "Come to the mirrors, I will angle them for you to see."