MasterofVelvet (3 page)

Over time he and Dan had completed the training and become
masters of the art. Adam learned that he wasn’t into the lifestyle aspects of
D/s—his preference was for sexual Domination when it came to his personal life,
although he had also found a great deal of satisfaction in training subs who were
looking to lead a submissive lifestyle.

Adam loved women—the way they smelled, the way they tasted,
the way they felt, all the glorious textures of the human female body—and he
could say with confidence that every woman with whom he’d enjoyed any kind of
D/s relationship, he’d left happy and fulfilled…except one and that had been
his ex-wife.

By the time she’d gotten around to yelling at him about his
filthy perversion, the love had long gone and her words hadn’t been able to
wound the way she’d intended. He blamed himself. He should have told her about
his preferences when it looked like their relationship was getting serious,
long before marriage was on the radar.

He’d just understood that he was never going to be able to
help her and the only thing he could do for her was let her go. It hadn’t
stopped her taking everything she could get her claws on—but the divorce, once
declared absolute, was just that. Absolute. He had no idea where she’d gone or
with whom and by then he hadn’t cared about either.

Adam dropped onto the massive bed.
Beth
. Something
primitive stirred inside him. He pictured her lying face down on this bed, her
beautiful head hanging over the end, pillows under her belly and hips so that
she was in the perfect position for him to take her. She was restrained of
course and begging her Dom to fuck her.

Christ, Dan was right—she was perfect sub material. His
perfect sub.

And if she did see herself as the green-eyed female
protagonist she’d written about…if she had a secret desire to submit to a Dom…would
she really want to make that fantasy a reality? Fantasizing about D/s
relationships was one thing but the reality of them was a whole different
prospect. Hell, even he was still learning about Domination and submission and
about himself.

Adam rolled over onto his stomach, trapping his erection
between his belly and the bed. His muscular buttocks clenched, fighting the
urge to move as if she were under him.

How could he get her to the apartment? Wine her and dine
her, bring her back here and say, “Oh by the way, Beth, I’m a Dom and I want to
own you, body and soul.”

Yeah, that’d work
. The thought dripped sarcasm. Even
if she really had submissive tendencies, an approach like that would probably
still scare her off. With his thoughts going in unproductive circles,
eventually Adam fell asleep, overcome by mental exhaustion.

It was a pity it wouldn’t last.

On Monday morning—after a weekend that felt much shorter
than usual—Beth arrived in the office to find a message from her employer, informing
her that he was going to be in Amsterdam for a few days and would be back in
the office on Thursday. Part of her was relieved but it was really just
delaying the inevitable—she’d still have to face him on his return.

The next part of the message caused her eyebrows to rise in
disbelief—she was to close the office for three days, give everyone paid time
off and hand the office keys to Dan Chesterfield so that he could perform a
thorough security sweep.

By ten o’clock the offices were deserted, save for Beth. She
was just waiting for Dan and his crew to arrive so that she could hand over the
keys as instructed and then she too could go and make the most of the
unexpected break.

“Good morning, Beth!” Dan breezed into the office, his usual
tsunami-like charm offensive sweeping all before him. “Good weekend?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Chesterfield. I certainly wasn’t
expecting Mr. Granger’s message when I arrived this morning.”

Dan perched a hip on the corner of her desk, looking very
masculine and it had to be said, attractive in his formal business suit. He
gave a sarcastic snort. “You know what the old man’s like. Once he gets an idea
in his head, he has to do something about it and we all have to jump.”

She had to agree—her employer did like getting his own way.
That was one of the traits that made him an ideal model for her fantasy Dom.

Ten minutes later Beth had completed a final check of the
offices and returned to Reception, where Dan Chesterfield was waiting for her.

“Do we have the all-clear, sweetheart?”

“I believe so, Mr. Chesterfield,” Beth replied, almost on a
sigh. She held up her hand. In the palm rested the keys to the offices, the
safes and the climate-controlled vault. Her eyes, fixed on the keys, became
very serious. “I’ve been responsible for these keys for three years. It’s not a
responsibility I give up lightly.”

“Worry not, my angel,” he said blithely, plucking the bunch
of keys from her hand. “You can leave everything in my hands. Go and treat
yourself to some retail therapy,” he suggested with a playful wink.

Beth shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. Men! They never
did grow up. Even Adam had been known to throw his toys out of the pram
occasionally, in the adult male version of a tantrum that would have done a
four-year-old proud.

“Thank you, Mr. Chesterfield.” She fixed her gaze on his
way-too-handsome face, trying to make that gaze as steely as possible. “Just
you make sure you look after this place, or I’ll—“

“You’ll what, dear Beth?” he prompted, not bothering to hide
his amusement at the prospect of a threat from a woman at least four inches
shorter—and that was with heels on—and conservatively, a hundred pounds lighter
than him.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best to make it dire!” she
promised. “Good day, Mr. Chesterfield.”

Dan watched her leave, admiring the feminine grace she
displayed so naturally and considering what he’d just learned about Beth
Harrison. A woman who didn’t give up responsibility very easily—perhaps that
was the challenge that would convince his friend to take action.

With a thoughtful look on his face, Dan checked the time—his
crew would be arriving in a few minutes but there was time for a quick phone
call to a man who was in Oxfordshire rather than Amsterdam, as he’d claimed.

“Adam? Beth’s just gone. You know, she really is too lovely
to take her responsibilities so seriously all the time—you need to do something
about it. What? You are? About fucking time! I’d ask you if you were planning
to share her, but I’m kind of attached to my family jewels.”

At the end of the call Dan pocketed his phone, his mouth
curving into a very satisfied grin. He’d helped Adam set up the playroom at his
house in Oxfordshire. If only Beth knew what was awaiting her…

Adam ended the call, inwardly digesting what his friend had
told him.

He’d spent the weekend obsessing about Beth, trying to
figure out the best way to take their relationship from a purely business
footing to a more personal one. By midnight on Sunday he had decided that he
needed a few days’ distance from his assistant to ensure that he came to a
sensible and workable decision. The fictitious trip to Amsterdam presented the
ideal camouflage.

He also needed to make sure that the playroom was ready for her.
It would be very easy to create a playroom just like the club but he’d wanted
something modern and clean, where the dark intimacy was created not by the
décor but by the lighting, the drapes and the equipment. With Dan’s input, he’d
achieved that.

There was only one element missing and that was Beth. It
took very little effort on Adam’s part to picture her on the well-padded
spanking bench, her hair streaming toward the floor while he administered a
sound spanking to her luscious behind.

The playroom was conveniently situated right next to his
bedroom and while a very small number of specially selected subs had been
honored with sessions in there, none had ever found their way to the sacrosanct
domain of his bedroom. His ex had been the last woman in there and she’d left
enough bad memories to last a lifetime.

Then maybe it’s time you made new memories.

The voice was soft and gentle—the voice was Beth’s. The
picture in his mind changed, became a slideshow of different images—she’d be on
her knees in front of him, her body gracefully poised in the first position,
her long hair draped over the swell of her breasts or she’d be tied to the bed
in the playroom. Or curled up next to him while she slept, exhausted from the
pleasure he’d demonstrated her beautiful body was capable of experiencing and
the aftercare with which he’d brought her back from subspace.

And there was no denying it. He opened the bedroom door and
stared at the huge bed—Beth was the first woman he’d wanted in it for a long,
long time.

The weekend had been something of an epiphany and it had
gone a long way toward explaining why he’d felt so out of kilter for the last
six months—ever since his last birthday and the growing awareness of what his
life had become.

Scenes at the club no longer left him satisfied. If
anything, they had the opposite effect, leaving him acutely aware of the
emptiness of certain aspects of his life…of a growing need for one special sub
with whom he had an emotional connection as well as a physical one. The early
starts and late finishes at the office were not so much due to the demands of
business as his reluctance to spend too much time in an empty apartment.

He wanted someone there. Specifically, he wanted Beth.

For a reckless moment, Adam let his imagination run away
with him—Beth as his sub, in his life 24/7, both at home and in the office. Not
only would he have her there beside him at work, she’d also be coming home with
him. A leisurely dinner together, some time to relax and then he would lead her
to the bedroom and take ownership of her—everything she was, everything she
thought, everything she felt.

It had been one hell of a weekend.

The best thing he could do now was get down to some work. He
closed the bedroom door and went downstairs, heading for his well-equipped
office.

* * * * *

From Beth’s perspective, Thursday morning came round far too
quickly. She purposely got to the office at a ridiculously early time, hoping
to beat Adam there. Although it wasn’t part of her job, she collected the mail
on her way in, rather than leaving it to the admins who would arrive a couple
of hours later. At the end of the security inspection, she had been very
relieved to take back possession of the office keys.

Dan Chesterfield had given nothing away regarding the
exercise and it was impossible to read anything into his usual breezy attitude.
He’d chatted briefly with her and then taken his leave of her—strolling away,
one hand in his trouser pocket, whistling tunelessly.

Beth really needed to focus on something work-related. Writing
rather than retail therapy had been her indulgence of choice, so now she was
hoping that she could face her employer without blushing, given his role as the
blueprint for her Dom—the Dom in her book, she reminded herself sternly.

“Beth, what the hell are you doing here so early?”

Caught off guard, for a moment she floundered then grabbed
the lifeline of her sense of composure—it had always served her well during the
time she’d worked for Adam. She looked up at his handsome, if somewhat annoyed
face.

“Good morning, Mr. Granger,” she greeted him. “Thank you for
the last few days —it was most unexpected.”

He made a dismissive gesture. “You didn’t answer my
question. It’s 6:30 in the bloody morning.”

Her hand indicated the stack of mail. “The office has been
closed for three days and emails and phone messages have piled up, too. I
wanted to make an early start on the backlog.”

His steely gaze moved from the pile of envelopes back to
Beth. “That isn’t your job. I pay a team of admins to look after that crap, so
you can take it all back to their office. Now.”

Beth’s breath caught in her throat. She’d never heard that
tone in his voice before. It was a tone that was intended to intimidate and it
sent a delicious shiver up and down her spine.

“Beth.” His commanding voice drew her mind sharply back into
focus. “I said now. And when you’re done you can come into my office.”

And with that he strode off into said office without a
backward glance, leaving Beth to deal with an instinctive compulsion to obey.
Almost as if she had no control over her own legs, she stood up and left the
office, heading for the one shared by the team of admins.

On her return she went straight into Adam’s office. He’d
shed both his jacket and tie, dumping them unceremoniously on the sofa. He was
seated at his desk, his forehead resting in his hand while he studied a
document. Without thinking, she folded his tie and placed it on the coffee
table and took his jacket to hang it in the small closet.

She had no idea that Adam was watching her keenly from under
his hand—and even if she had been aware there was no way she would have guessed
that her graceful movements were sending all sorts of thoughts through his mind
and his body.

Today she was wearing a smartly tailored black skirt, with a
silk blouse in dove gray, the ever-present black, sheer, fully fashioned
hosiery with a Cuban heel—and today’s fuck-me shoes were the iridescent peacock-blue
pumps with the narrow ankle strap that was attached to the shoe at the back of
her heel. Four-inch heels on the shoes, of course and when she reached to
replace the hanger with his jacket on it in the closet, he virtually broke into
a sweat at the way she extended her left leg for balance, the elegant point of
her toe almost balletic in form.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Granger?”

She had taken up a position on the other side of the desk,
directly opposite him. Her hands were clasped together in front of her—no
fidgeting, he was pleased to see. He came out from under the screen of his hand
and looked up at her.

“Sit down, Beth. This won’t take long.” He paused while she
obeyed, crossing those incredible legs at the ankles and tucking them under the
chair. Her hands remained clasped on her lap. For a brief moment, he thought
about her training. The training itself wouldn’t be the problem—no, the problem
would be getting her to accept what she was.

The sub who belonged in his bed, and the woman who belonged
in his life.

“Do you have a valid passport?”

Beth raised her eyebrows. He got the distinct feeling that
she wasn’t expecting that question. “Yes, sir. It’s good for the next four
years.”

“Excellent. Clear your calendar and mine for next week. Can
you book us on the first flight to Amsterdam next Monday? We’ll be returning on
Thursday so can you also book us a suite each at…damn it.” He extracted a
business card from his wallet, glanced at it briefly and passed it to Beth.
“Here.”

She scanned the card. “Is this where you stayed this week?”

“No, I thought we’d give this one a try. If you have any
trouble booking the suites, ask to speak to the manager—his name’s on the back
of the card—and mention my name. Everything okay, Beth?”

“Sir, I’m a little confused as to why you need me to go with
you?”

“Career development,” he replied, his tone somewhat curt due
to the spontaneous nature of his improvised response. “Unless there’s some
reason— “

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m looking forward to it.”

* * * * *

Normally, Beth relished the thought of the bus ride home on
a Friday, but this time all she could think about was that it was another day
nearer to Amsterdam, and spending time alone with Adam, without the
distractions of the office.

And that was why her mind wasn’t on her surroundings when
she left the building and became another crime statistic for the Metropolitan
Police. The mugger came from nowhere, sent her flying into an awkward heap and
made off with her bag before she knew what happened.

Stunned and in shock she looked around, her mind in total
denial of what had just happened. The dirty, grazed palms and knees belonged to
someone else as did the ankle that hurt like hell when she stood up. Instinct
more than anything drove her to limp back whence she came, knowing that there
was at least one person still in the office.

* * * * *

Getting changed to go to Apollo, Adam had just unfastened
his shirt when he heard noises outside in Beth’s office. What the…? The office
was closed for the weekend so who the hell was that? He tensed, ready to take
on whoever was out there, and opened the door a crack so as not to alert the intruder.