Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1)) (42 page)

I stand outside flat number 181 my body is trembling and I pull my head tight to one side to stretch my neck and release some of the tension with a loud crack. I let out a large puff of air and I think this must feel like a combination of stage fright and entering a boxing ring for the first time. Although he has already done the TKO on me so I am thinking the former analogy is more appropriate. I take a quick peek down beneath my dress and catch my costume, definitely stage fright. I lightly knock on the door and moments later it opens. Oh he takes my breath away. He stands to one side with his arm high on the door; he is wearing the same black suit trousers that he wore in the lecture earlier this evening; and nothing else.

I NOTICE HIS feet first, they are bare but his ripped body soon draws my eyes up his stunning frame. His is taking deep breaths, his chest rises slowly and his muscles flex and ripple with the small movement. His lightly tanned skin is stretched smooth and taught across his firm, flat abdomen. The tension sizzles between us and I can feel the instant heat burn deep inside me but it pales significantly when I’m scorched by the glare of his darkly dangerous blue black eyes. ‘Wow ‘I think to myself then gasp when I realise the word did, in fact, escape my shocked mouth. I snap my lips together and feel a flash of heat spread across my face. His face is impassive although there is the slightest flick in the corner of his mouth, it could be the beginning of a smile but equally it could be the start of a snarl. Only his eyes would give that away and at the moment they are revealing nothing except a dark desire. I would be shocked if my eyes were any different.

“Lola.” His deep voice is raspy and he pushes the door a little further to allow me to pass under his arm and into the flat. I walk on legs that I hope are not visibly shaking although they feel like jelly; passing close to his naked torso I feel a palpable current race between our bodies. I wonder if it’s only me that feels it and as I try and suppress a moan at being this near to perfection I can see his jaw tick and know he is struggling with something; I just don’t know what that is. His cologne is different, rich and musky and on him it smells like sin. My skin is alive with instant prickles and my heart is beating with the speed of hunted prey about to be devoured by something wild. I suddenly remember Mags telling me I was a natural submissive, what seems like a life time ago, and outside of everything Daniel and I have been through I am here, as Lola the submissive. It’s the only reason I can be here, because tonight I am Lola and he is . . .

“Sir.” I turn to face him, the corridor is narrow. We are not too close but tonight, his size and general aura of power and dominance, I find intimidating. I lower my head and refrain from meeting his eyes and I get a sensual tingle all over when he steps to me and lightly lifts my chin with his finger forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Good girl.” He is right about one thing. I am not thinking about the pain in my chest; I am now only thinking about the burning need for release rising between my legs. He passes me and tells me to follow him. I would’ve anyway but with his demanding tone I am now beginning to understand tonight is different from any of our other encounters we have shared; very different. I stand in the living area, it is an open space with three large white leather sofas and a small coffee table. The far wall is completely covered with a built in ultra-glossy black storage unit that has some shelving for personal items, there are none; and a sleek sliding door that hides a small bar. The floor is polished white marble, there is no colour in this room; it is cold and impersonal and very different from Paul’s apartment four floors below. He has fixed himself a drink and is walking back toward me, my mouth is dry and I lick my lips for moisture.

“Mmmm Lola.” His voice is deep, “I want you to take your coat off.” He sits slowly on the edge of the sofa that has no arm rest and is more like a rounded off seat. His legs are wide and he leans forward with the ice in his glass clinking the sides as he swirls the golden liquid around. I can feel his scorching gaze on me but I won’t meet his eyes, not tonight. I take off my coat, there is nothing seductive about a parker and I am glad to be rid of it; I am burning up and not from the temperature in the flat.

“Take off your dress.” I inhale a quick sharp breath, but almost instantly pull the hem of the stretchy grey material and lift it over my head. He has his hand out and I pass the dress to him. I wish I could see his face as I stand there in the sexiest lingerie I own, corset, stockings and stiletto boots; but I do hear him inhale deeply. I hear him move and step my way, he is right in front of me and he places his large hand on my chest, palm flat just above and between my breasts. His touch scorches me like a branding iron and my breath hitches. “Your pain is here?” He is forcing words through his clenched jaw. His tone is deep and angry.

“Yes.” I whisper. He waits, because I am distracted by his touch, I forgot but then quickly add “Sir, Yes Sir.” I exhale. I have to remember to breathe.

“Tell me about the pain Lola?”

“Da-”

“ADDRESS ME LIKE THAT AGAIN, SEE WHAT HAPPENS!” His voice booms so close to my face his sweet minty breath rushes my face but the volume makes me jump back and I stumble. He grabs my arm to prevent my fall and growls in anger. “The pain, Lola, tell me about the fucking pain.” His voice is calm but no less demanding.

“I, I . . .” My voice is quiet, tentative but that is mostly because I don’t know how to say this. It is so raw and although with anyone else it is just as easy to lie I know I won’t have that luxury with him. “I never knew there could be pain like this, Sir.” My voice starts to break and I suck in a steadying breath. This isn’t a cry and a cuddle session, so I need to not cry. “Mostly I am numb but sometimes, sometimes I just can’t stand it, Sir.”

“This pain consumes you?” It is a statement and a question.

“Yes Sir.” I can feel the tension in my own jaw as he forces this excruciating admission from deep inside.

“This pain you can’t handle?” He pushes, relentless, oblivious.

“No Sir.” I swallow the sudden sob but he notices.

“Then I will give you pain that you
can
handle. Do you understand Lola?”

“No Sir.”

“The pain I can give you, will be a pain you can handle, a pain you can focus on to get the release you need.” His deep breath exhales across my sensitive skin.

“You are going to hurt me?” My voice is quiet as I try to understand the implication of what he is suggesting when he all too quickly replies softly.

“You hurt me.” But then he adds louder more forcefully. “Yes I am going to hurt you, but no more than you can take and no more than you need.”

“You think I need this pain, more pain?” I am struggling with
this
concept.

“No, I know you need this pain and I know you need the pleasure too.” His voice sounds so wicked my core clenches and I squeeze my legs at the thought of this pleasure.

“Will I need a safe word?” I can’t believe I am asking this question, Daniel, I trusted I could say stop but this feels different. The trust is there but there is also a darkness.

“Oh, you know Lola, I think you might.” His voice is seductive but he speaks with a clenched jaw and repeats, “I think you might.” I get a chill across my skin that makes me tremble and it is then I realise that this is just as much for him as it is for me. I need to focus on a different kind of pain and so does he. “So what is your safe word Lola?” My mind has gone blank, not only can I not think of a suitable safe word I can’t think of any words. It feels like ages before I manage to speak as my mind tries hopelessly to think of something that isn’t ; No, Don’t or Ow!

“I’m sorry I don’t know, I can’t think of anything.” I still have my head lowered but if he could see my eyes he’d see my vacant expression.

“A colour perhaps, Red is a standard.” He offers as a suggestion, it helps.

“Blue!” I fire at him abruptly. “Blue is my safe word.” Blue is not an angry colour, it doesn’t bleed or break. It is calm, safe, cold.

“Good, let us begin.” He puts his drink on the coffee table, takes my trembling hand and leads me in to the bedroom.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” His warning glare silences any further comments. It’s only because I’m nervous, a little out of my comfort zone, a little out of any of my zones. I’m not in Kansas anymore.

This room is very different, the walls have a dark silver silk wall covering and the carpet is a thick dark grey. The windows are covered with a rich deep red velvet curtain but it’s the furniture that is the most surprising. The bed is easily a super super king and has four posts that reach up from the corners but don’t join each other. There is no comforter or blanket although there are several black pillows and the sheet is also a dark silver silk similar to the walls. It is the padded bench with cuffs and chains at the end of the bed that has my heart racing. So do the ropes and ties on each of the four posts of the bed. There is also a rather ominous looking black briefcase next to the bench and a small whimper leaves my throat followed by a louder swallow. Unexpectedly, I receive a small hand squeeze in return and the gesture is enough to settle me.

“Are you happy with the choices you have made Lola?” His deep voice brings me back from my assessment of the interior design of his bedroom.

“I don’t have choices, Sir.” I snort.

“Really? Alright. Are you happy with the decisions you have made?” Whether he is referring to saving my family or coming here tonight the answer is the same.

“Yes Sir.”

“Very well, what we are going to do tonight.” He clears his throat, his voice is deep and raspy. “What I am going to do to you tonight, was always inevitable with us. It’s just that
your
decisions have made tonight more of a ‘baptism of fire’ as it were; rather than a more gentle introduction which would have been the case had you behaved differently.” He is standing directly behind me gently scraping his finger nail up my arm, tracing a line all the way up my neck and then down my spine to the top of my corset. A trail of sparks follow his touch. It is very distracting as I try to understand what he is saying.

I think I understand from my limited research that a Dominant/ submissive relationship would involve whatever he has planned, he’s a Dom, he does what he wants. I clench at the thought and I can feel the liquid heat at my core building, my pulse is racing. I am so fucking turned on right now. But he is saying he would’ve taken it slow and now that is no longer an option. I didn’t have a choice in this; there wasn’t a choice with the decisions I made, it wasn’t him or them. It was them. He doesn’t love me; he thinks I’m a liar and a cheat who gave up on her family. I am angry, in love and in pain and he has promised to help. I hurt him and he needs something from me and I think this is it. If he thinks his ‘baptism of fire’ speech is going to have me running for the hills or crying out my safe word every five minutes, he doesn’t know me at all. He may hear me cry out but he won’t hear my safe word, not tonight.

He walks to the bag and removes some more cuffs, he then returns to face me and he takes one of my hands. “I had these made for you, the leather is very soft, like your skin, it will constrict you but it won’t hurt.” He fastens the cuffs on each of my wrists before kneeling and doing the same with cuffs on my ankles. He stands and places his large hand around my neck, his hold is firm. “Your pulse is racing. Do you trust me?”

“Yes Sir.” My response is an exhaling breath. I must stop holding my breath or with my blood rushing around my body at this pace I am likely to pass out. He takes my hand and leads me to the bed where he sits in front of me. He pulls me roughly across his lap, my hands reach to the floor and my feet are on tip toes. I can feel his arousal, hot through the material of his trousers hard against my side. He holds me with one arm across my back; his hand on my hip, his other hand pulls my panties down over my bottom to my knees. I feel more exposed than if I was completely naked, certainly more vulnerable. He rubs his hand in circles smoothing the skin creating a gentle heat and I feel a deep rumble vibrate through his chest. My head shoots up with a cry at the first strike.