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Authors: Shara Lanel

BOOK: IcySeduction
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“First of all, you’re going to need all your stuff to take
back to Florida with you.” There was both kindness and desolation in his eyes. “Second,
I’m driving you to the airport. Third, we really do need to talk about this.
You can only run away so long.”

“I can find my own cab.”

“No. I’m taking you. End of that discussion.”

Christine combed her fingers through her still-damp hair.
Then she met his eyes. “If it weren’t for this mate thing, would you want to
spend the rest of your life with me?”

His face relaxed into a smile. “I would’ve taken more time
to get to this point, but I could tell after you visited your parents and came
back to me that you were the one I wanted.”

“That’s just sex talking.”

His smile widened into a grin. “It says what words cannot
say.”

“Sex does not make a relationship, nor does all this other
craziness.” She turned around, found her suitcase and stalked back to the door
again. “Take me to the airport now.”

“It’s not time for your flight.”

“I want to allow for traffic and security check.”

“Still plenty of time.”

“Are you going to let me out of here?”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then her ear, then
along her neck. She shivered, the want blossoming inside her. “You know what I
can do to you,” he whispered in her ear. She closed her eyes and pictured what
he’d done to her at the club and how turned-on she’d been and how high he’d
taken her. “I can smell your arousal and I can hear you breathing faster. I can
suck your breasts and lick between your legs and spank you until you’re
screaming for me to fuck you.” He never raised his voice, just whispered into
her ear, his warm breath raising the tiny hairs on her neck. Her nipples were
hard and she was pressing her nails into her palms trying to resist the tingles
this man’s voice sent straight to the point between her legs.

God almighty, she wanted to say, “Yes, Master,” and let him
bind her and do anything he wanted to her. Her fear from moments ago had
evaporated, and it seemed her pride had evaporated with it.

“Stay with me and we can see how far down the rabbit hole I can
take you. We can learn together. I know you want to submit to me. You crave it.
It’ll never be the same with some vanilla guy again.”

It was true. She knew it was true. But if she didn’t get
away now, she might have to give in to his full-moon madness, always wondering
how he was tricking her, if he was drugging her. She straightened her spine,
despite every part of her wanting to melt beneath him.

 

“I need to go, Jake.”

He straightened too, giving her back her personal space. “It’s
only going to get crazier.”

“I can’t be with you.” She picked up her suitcase. “Either
you take me to the airport now or I’ll go on my own.”

“As you wish.” Jake fought against every impulse he had to
keep her there until she accepted the truth in everything he said. But though
she might get turned-on sexually from demands or entrapment, she’d hate him
later. He could seduce her to reduce the throbbing in his pants. God, he wanted
to. To keep from doing so, he grabbed her suitcase from her hand and stalked to
the door. “Are you coming?”

In the cab, only the seatbelt kept him from pulling her
closer, demanding she suck his painfully engorged cock until he came. He needed
the release only she could give. He’d discovered during the past couple of
weeks they’d been apart that a hand job no longer cut it even if he was
fantasizing about her. He needed her to sink into. He needed her bound and
trusting and demanding to make him cum.

But she seemed oddly obsessed with the traffic and
pedestrians around them. Studiously ignoring him, most likely to avoid
conversation, but then she said something.

“What?”

“So bright, so crisp.”

Jake glanced at the sky, not much of which could be seen
through the high rises. It was gray as hell, the sun not visible through the
clouds. “What’s crisp?” he asked.

“The colors. The sounds. I can hear the clicking of the walk
lights and of the heels on the sidewalk. Even that old man shuffling—I can hear
the shuffling.”

Jake could do the same if he hadn’t learned to block it out,
but humans couldn’t separate so many sounds. Out-of-towners always described
the city as a wall of sound. “The windows are closed.”

Christine touched the glass as if fascinated. “It was
nothing like this when we drove in or the time I visited before.”

Jake wove through the serpentine traffic, wishing he could
talk to Saron about the mate thing. He didn’t know how it affected the human
exactly, but that had to be what it was. “I think you connected with the wolf
and a little has remained with you.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. “Do you smell it?”

He smelled exhaust, but he saw the flower stand on the
corner.

“They have honeysuckle and roses.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I’m ignoring you. There’s too much beauty out there. It’s
as if I can taste the air.”

“You probably can with all the exhaust.”

“It’s more subtle than that. Like the hotdogs boiling at
that stand and fresh-baked bagels and even the faint smell of the sewers.”

Yeah, that was one Jake had learned to block out real fast.
That’s why he loved going to the compound so much. He felt as if there he could
finally breathe, smell the grass, the dirt, the air, the life all around him.
It smelled like freedom to him, but he stayed in the city for Dean. He kept
dreaming of buying a piece of property upstate or in Vermont, acres to explore
away from prying eyes.

Whenever Christine glanced his way, her expression was
dreamy and full of wonder, childlike. Jake decided to keep quiet and not press
his point that it was the wolf. She’d connected with the wolf during his
change, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

At the airport, he offered to park and carry her suitcase
inside for her.

“No, I don’t want you to have to pay to park for such a
short time. I’m going to go straight through security.”

So her sense of wonder did not extend to him, Jake thought
wryly. He pulled into a drop-off space and helped get the suitcase out of the
cab and then watched her go. She’d just walked through the glass doors when a
couple flagged him down for a fare. He wasn’t technically working, but at least
a fare would distract him from the sadness he felt as Christine walked out of
his life again.

* * * * *

It was gone.

The colors, sounds, scents, everything muted as soon as she
walked into the airport lobby. She looked back to see that Jake’s cab had
already pulled away. She could smell whatever was cooking at the lobby
restaurant, but she couldn’t separate the smells and tell whether it was beef
or chicken or onions and peppers like she could just a few minutes ago. In fact,
the smell stuck in her nostrils was exhaust, especially whenever someone came
through the automatic doors. She forced herself to walk to security, feeling
bereft. From here on out, she would concentrate on the necessities of plane
travel. Ticket. Driver’s license. Take her shoes off. Was she wearing anything
metal? Gate number? What to do with the couple of hours she had until her
flight. Bland food at the chain restaurant.

You just need to be in the present moment, like
meditation.

But she’d taken meditation classes several times and had
never felt as alive as she had those few minutes in Jake’s cab. She thought
about the subspace she’d tripped into when at the club. That had been close.
That thought obsessed her as she flew home. She needed to go to that club
again. She wasn’t sure how it worked if you arrived without a partner, but she
needed that feeling again. She needed to lose herself as someone paddled or
caned her. If she told someone who’d never tried it before, she was sure she’d
sound crazy. They might think she was brainwashed by an abuser. She’d never be
able to describe the emptiness of pain to any of her coworkers, that freefall,
the high.

She wanted to go to the club as soon as she returned home,
but she had to get caught up on normal life. She didn’t answer either of her
phones, since it was invariably Jake leaving her message after message. She
stayed off Facebook and turned off IMs. Finally, she turned the sound off her
phone so she wouldn’t hear the notification sound for texts. She felt
persecuted but knew he’d let up eventually. Hopefully not to turn up on her
doorstep again.

Back to work, back to routine. Why did it feel like a
lifetime since she’d been there when it was just last week? Just forty-eight
hours.

She refused to think about Jake during the day but she
dreamed about him every night. Bondage and sex blended with sleeping against
soft fur and agonizing pain. Again she saw through eyes that were not her own.
She found herself in that closet staring at that wolf again and again. And the
dreams did not fade in the morning. She remembered every moment as if captured
on film and shown to her with her eyelids held open with prongs, like in
A
Clockwork Orange
.

Finally, Friday arrived. By then she had her fetish outfit
laid out on a chair, directions to the club in her phone and cash and ID
stuffed into a little clutch with a thin shoulder strap. By nightfall, she was
in the car, heels on the seat next to her, driving barefoot. She didn’t want to
kill herself by being unable to press the brake in those shoes. It was too
early for the club, but she was going crazy at her house. She decided to get
some food at a drive-through, then sit and watch the fountains in the park
while she ate. Colored lights lit the spraying water at night. Luckily, she had
her gym shoes in the back so she could walk to a shadowy bench near the water.
She was suddenly very self-conscious of what she was wearing. What if they
arrested her for being a hooker?

Enough time passed for the store and club to be open. She
went in through the store again, taking the time to look at the shoes and
outfits before asking for the door to the club. She didn’t know why she felt
the need to ask since she knew where it was. Maybe it was her way of asking
permission. She was more nervous and far less excited than when she’d been here
with Jake, but she knew it was the only way she’d recapture that feeling that
she craved like a drug. Inside she found the Mistress so she could find out
what to do since she didn’t have a partner.

“I have a dominatrix named Felicity who is free at the
moment.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, but she’s very sensitive to newbies.”

“Um, okay.” It was against the rules to have sex here, so
why should it matter if she had a female master for the night? Then again, she’d
kissed that lady in the airport. Maybe she should open herself up to the other
side of things.

“Come with me.”

A woman in black leather was nursing a drink in the lounge.

“Felicity, I’d like you to meet Christine. This is only her
second time here and she could use a thoughtful hand.”

The woman, with her wavy black hair swept back in a tight
ponytail, gave her a warm smile. “I’ll take good care of her.” The idea of
binding and spanking seemed at odds with “taking good care”, but Christine
understood.

Felicity stood nimbly, her lithe form and movements very
catlike. She just needed a hood with ears and she’d be perfect in the role of
Catwoman. “Follow me,” she said, swaying her hips as if she were swishing her
tail. Christine smiled at these random thoughts in her head and finally
relaxed.

Their destination was a semi-private cubicle just off the
main floor. There was no curtain, so anyone could stand by and watch. “This is
where I keep my tools,” Felicity said. “And where I teach my subs obedience.
From this moment forward you will call me Mistress.”

Christine nodded and said, “Yes, Mistress.” A flutter of
arousal wended its way through her body, tickling her stomach, tingling in her
clit.

Felicity reached for Christine’s waist and pulled her
closer. “Have you ever been taught by a woman before?”

“No.”

“How about kissed?”

Now she felt nervous. Did she want to be kissed by a woman
again? “Just once.”

Felicity firmly held the back of Christine’s head to keep
her still as she claimed her mouth. She pried her teeth open with her tongue
and explored the texture of Christine’s tongue until she gave in and responded.
She was full-on aroused doing something that she felt was taboo. It was
certainly novel for her. She moved closer so that her breasts pressed against
Felicity’s, though she was slightly taller. The dominatrix’s leather outfit
creaked and the smell reminded Christine of the saddles of the horses she rode
as a kid.

Though Felicity never broke the kiss, she was guiding
Christine backward. “Open your eyes,” she demanded.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Felicity sat on a short stool, knees out. She hefted a
paddleboard from a hook on the wall. “Now, if you do everything I say exactly
as I say it, your punishment won’t be too harsh. Now lie across my knees with
your skirt pulled up to your waist.”

Bottom bare since she only wore a thong, cool air wafted
along Christine’s skin. She was moist between her legs, but the more she
anticipated that paddle hitting her butt, the wetter she became. Felicity
shocked her by slapping her hand across her ass instead of the board. She did
that a couple more times as if warming up. Christine’s breath caught each time.
She noticed feet, so she glanced up to see that several people stood there
watching the tableau, watching her get spanked. The next stroke, this time with
the paddle, took away such idle thoughts as who was watching her. She gasped
from the pain but wiggled her butt, wanting more.

“Eager, are we?” Felicity said in a throaty voice, following
her words with three harsh whacks in a row.

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