Sweet Desire (Tales of Dystopian Decadence Book 2) (7 page)

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered.

I was bound.

Blindfolded.

Completely at his mercy.

“You’re going to feel something on your body now,” he said. “It will feel firm, but not hard as it goes over your skin. It’s a washable marker that I am using to write on you. Will you let me mark your body with it?”

Still breathless, I gave a single nod. Every muscle in my body tensed as I waited for his next move. The promised touch of the marker.

“For the next several minutes, the only thing touching you will be the tip of the marker as I use your body as my canvas to write down everything I want to do with you. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir.” My voice quavered – there was no stopping it.

The first touch was to my right shoulder. I felt something lightly looping along the flesh, almost as if it were tracing shapes on my skin. When he was done writing whatever he wanted to say there, the marker next touched the inside of my upper right arm. Again there was the light sensation of him writing on that sensitive flesh.

His next move was bolder – a line and then what felt like two smaller lines along my breast, drawn down toward my nipple. Had he just drawn an arrow pointing to it? Both my nipples tightened and I moaned softly as the words followed…

I don’t know how long it took, but he worked his way from one side of my front to the other, and then down from my collarbone to my toes. By the time the marker lifted off the top of my foot, I was writhing, my hips lifting from the bed in invitation, as I made little noises of need and desire.

“I’m sure you want to know what I’ve written here,” he said and I heard a small click – Nicholas capping the marker. “Maybe you want to know that here on your hip, it says how much I want to turn you over on your hands and knees and fuck you from behind.”

The bed dipped with his weight as he knelt between my legs, nudging at my inner thighs with his knees. He must have remained upright, because he didn’t lay atop me, but instead gripped my hips with his hands on either side.

“Or here where I wrote how I want to go down on you and make you come and come again, until you beg me to stop.” His hands moved up to rest on my pelvis, just above the curly mound of hair. “What do you think of that idea?”

“Not now, Sir,” I said, lifting my hips toward his warmth.

“Oh, so I should just untie you and walk away?”

“No!” I didn’t mean to yell, but my entire body was burning with need. I didn’t want any more foreplay, anymore teasing. I just wanted…

“What do you want, then?” he asked in a low voice, his hands smoothing across my skin, back down over my hips.

“Please fuck me.” It was the most brutally honest answer I could give him.

His chuckle let me know he wasn’t done with me just yet. “I’m sorry, Violet, but you need to ask me properly. Try again.”

Clenching my teeth, I tried to gather my thoughts. “Sir, fuck me, please.”

With another laugh, he drew his hands down from my shoulders, over my breasts, causing me to arch up into his touch. “I want to hear you really beg for it,” he said.

“Please, Sir, if you don’t, I think I will die from how much I need you!” It was an exaggeration that I was sure would make him laugh, but it felt like the truth. The tension coiling between my legs was acute, leaving me frantic with desire. I arched my body toward him again, lifting my hip in invitation like a cat in heat putting itself on display.

“That is just beautiful, Violet. Let me see if I can save your life.” With that, his knees nudged at mine and he sank his cock inside of me at last.

The fullness made me cry out with relief, but it was short-lived. Now that he was there, thrusting his hard, unyielding flesh inside mine, I needed my orgasm. I ached for it.

His palms settled at my hips and then lower until he rubbed one of his thumbs over my clit. With that touch, I was lost, bucking as hard against him as the ropes would allow. Even though he was my dominant, my patron, I felt like the one who had to possess him.

With an agonized groan, I came, my pussy clenching around his driving cock. I had never experienced such raw lust in my life, but I gave in, gyrating against him, riding the wave of sensory overload. Primed for orgasm, I let another release take me just as Nicholas’s hands grasped my hips and his pumping became harder, faster. We met each other, thrust for thrust, and the pleasure was more than I could bear. Somewhere above me, I heard him groan and felt his ejaculate spill inside me, just as I let out one more cry and swiveled my hips to meet his.

It felt as though I were floating, yet my body was so sensitive I couldn’t bear for him to touch me. Each move Nicholas made to withdraw and give me space sent jitters across my skin. He stepped away and every movement sounded distant to my ears, even when he returned to my side. Something warm pressed between my legs – a wet washcloth, I realized. He cleaned my pussy, thighs, and bottom tenderly, then removed the blindfold.

For a moment, I had to keep my eyes shut. Then I let some light filter beneath the lids. I tried to say something, but my mind seemed to be lost in the same floating sensation as my body.

“Sweet Violet,” he said, reaching up to untie one of my wrists. “Do you want to see what I have done to you?”

I gave an unsteady nod and watched him remove the bindings. When I was free, Nicholas pulled me into his arms and pressed his body to mine. The warmth made me feel safe and happy, and I leaned against him.

He feathered kisses along my temple and forehead, and awareness drifted back to me. The first thing I noticed was the red marker he had used on my skin. Vision finally regained focus and I read, “Lick your pussy until you can’t take it anymore” on the inside of my left thigh. The inside of my right thigh said, “Have you ride me.”

“Do you want to see the rest?” he asked.

I nodded and he took my hands, extending my arms in front of me. Word by word, I took in everything he had written on my body – every loving or intimate thing he wanted to do to me. Some were elaborate and some were as simple as, “Use your body whenever I choose.” Some were sweet and some were about asserting his control. Every last word made me feel wanted, needed, and loved.

When we finished reading his handiwork, he washed my body from head to toe, carried me to bed, and curled up behind me to hold me close.

My patron. My dominant. My lover.

I wanted that moment to never end.

Chapter 8

The loneliness was unsettling. Nicholas had left after all and, with him, so had my confidence that life was as it should be. I still cooked and kept the house tidy, but each task felt meaningless without him.  

The radio receiver he left me felt like both a blessing and a curse. Voices crackling with static told of the war – real war once again – in the lower 48 states. Every day they ran through casualty lists, and every day the numbers of the dead and wounded increased. I feared hearing Nicholas’ name on those lists, especially since I did not know where he was. 

But what would I do? What could I do? I was trapped here with no way back to L.A., let alone anywhere else in the world… 

Someone was pounding on the front door. I nearly dropped the spoon I had been using to stir my oatmeal. It had been two quiet, lonely weeks. Who could possibly be here now? Even though the sound shredded my already fragile nerves, I smoothed my dress and walked to the door. The pounding continued, insistent and… 

I paused to listen. 

And issuing from a delicate hand; a woman’s.

Without looking through the front window, I flung open the door to reveal a white fur-covered… somebody. 

“Violet, quick!” Although the fur piled high around the figure’s shoulders muffled her voice, the urgency in her words was obvious.

I stepped aside and she strode past me into the house. Once I shut and locked the door, I looked at this feminine stranger clad all in white. Then she opened her heavy cloak and pushed back her hood and I gasped. “Adette!”

“They’re right behind me.” Her dark eyes flicked toward the door and then back to me. “Where can I hide?”

As I opened my mouth to speak, I heard the crunch of something heavy riding on top of the snow outside. There was no way to hide her thoroughly in the house – not in what little time I had – but…

“Cellar.” I grabbed her by the arm and led the way into the kitchen, then pointed to the door in the pantry. This was an emergency, no doubt about it.

Adette clambered down the stairs heavily in her furs, while I pulled the door shut behind her, muffling the sound of her flight. I was still not quite sure what was down in the basement. This was a time when ignorance was not bliss. My gaze went to the path of snow now tracked through the house.

For once in my life, I acted without hesitation. Grabbing the mop, I shoved the snow into a pile, then pushed it beneath the sofa where it could melt out of sight. As I rearranged a few of the throw rugs I had made in the past couple of months, hoping to disguise the lingering wetness on the floors from the front door to the cellar, there was a new knock at the door. This one was a series of sharp raps in quick succession, issuing from a masculine hand. Toeing the last rug into place in the kitchen, I wrapped an apron around my waist and picked up a dishtowel.

“Coming!” I called, hoping I didn’t sound as frightened as I felt. I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.
Don’t say too much
, I told myself.

When I opened the door, my heart pounded faster at the sight of three men in Regime uniforms. The one at the front snapped, “Stand aside.”

I did as he commanded and watched them tromp into the house, their heavy boots sending snow in all directions. The new mess would certainly help cover the previous one, I thought with a grimace. Then I turned my attention to the soldiers in their heavy black overcoats with the Regime emblem stitched in gold thread over the left breast pocket.

“What do you want?” I asked. When they finally looked at me, I reminded myself not to say more than absolutely necessary.

“Where is Doctor Ferros?” the first man asked. I took him to be the commanding officer, since he stood at the front of their little triangle formation and had gold epaulets on the shoulders of his coat.

“You probably know the answer to that better than I do,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

He looked me up and down, a sneer on his face. For a moment, I realized his features reminded me a little of Nicholas, with his rather chiseled jaw and fair hair, but that was the only resemblance. He looked a little younger than Nicholas, but there was something cold in his flat, gray eyes that made him seem untouchable.

“I suppose I might,” he finally said, “considering the circumstances.”

I desperately wanted to ask, “What circumstances,” but I simply smiled and said, “As you can see, I’m all alone.”

“Actually, I believe that remains to be seen.”

Shit. I had given him an opening.

“There is a woman we followed here, a schoolmate of yours.” The man drummed his fingers against the banister by the stairs, and he sneered as if dissatisfied with his surroundings. “She came this way.”

“What do you know about my school?” I asked, hoping to redirect the conversation.

“I know it trains you girls to offer special services to your clients, services your headmistress excels at.” That insolent gaze returned to me. “I am morbidly curious to know if Nicolai availed himself of those services, but loathe to try them myself. While the idea of putting a traitor in her place is appealing, used goods don’t offer much sport.”

At that, I clenched my fists beneath the dishtowel. It took a moment to smooth out my features once again, but his smirk told me he knew he had gotten to me.

“We will search the house,” he said. “One upstairs and one downstairs.” Those words were all the command the other two men needed. One went upstairs and I heard him stomping around from room to room, while the other made a sweep of the living room, dining room, and kitchen. I heard cupboards opening and closing, doors banging, even furniture being moved around. As they searched, I stood rooted to the ground, listening the sounds they made and trying not to let myself give in to tears.

“Nothing,” they reported when they returned, “not even in the basement.”

“There’s a basement? Let me see it.” The man followed one of his soldiers into the kitchen, and so did I as dread swirled in my stomach. The door to the basement hung open and they walked down the stairs that I had never used myself. What I saw surprised me – it was a simple, square, wood-paneled room with a long table of plants on one end, test tubes full of liquid in the center, and books on the other end. No other furniture, no special machines… and no Adette.

“What is this?” the commander asked.

“It’s my food source,” I answered.

He smiled at me, but it wasn’t a friendly expression. He then swept his arm across the surface of the table, sending glass and plants flying against the wall and to the floor. The sound of the shattering glass and falling pots made me jump.

“Not anymore.”

Something inside me flickered to life, like a match striking against a hard surface, and I snarled, “Get out of here, you murderous bastards. The Regime is dying and I’m going to celebrate the moment it draws its last breath.”

The commander’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he said, “You can’t do that if you die first.” He pulled his revolver from the holster on his hip and pressed the muzzle of it to my forehead. For a second, I thought I was about to breathe my last, but his gaze lowered to the shattered tubes and he returned the gun to its holster. “Good luck replacing that, Miss Morningside. I will be amused to hear that you starved to death, waiting for your dear Doctor Ferros to return.”

The soldiers turned and stalked out of the basement, and it took all my self-control not to scream. I stood frozen in place, still and listening. When I heard the front door close and the snow transport roar to life, I turned to survey the basement. Memories of my father’s plans rose to the surface again, and even though Nicholas had never shown me the basement despite his promises, I now understood why it had turned out for the best. I walked to the wall beneath the stairs, hoping my memory was accurate, and ran my fingers along a barely noticeable seam in the wood. The panel slid open and I stepped through to find an amazing sight.

Before I could process it or speak a word, Adette raised a finger to her lips and then pointed to something in her hand. The small rectangle of metal with a triangle antenna atop it had three red lights, all of which were blinking like mad. Adette walked into the main basement and reached beneath the table. She held her hand out to show me what she had found.

With a growl, I took the disc of metal from her, tossed it to the floor, and ground it beneath the heel of my shoe. Adette held up two fingers and I nodded. By the time we located the bugs planted in the dining room and Nicholas’ bedroom by the soldiers, my rage had settled to fuming.

“Nicely done,” Adette said after I buried the crushed components in the snow out back. Now we were snug in the kitchen, doors locked tight, and steaming mugs of tea in our hands.

Adette had shed her white furs and, to me, she looked as beautiful as ever. Time on the run had done her good, because her skin and dark hair glowed with vitality. But something in her eyes was sad, even haunted. Still, despite her trek through goodness knows where to find me, she looked healthy. The tea warmed us and we stood there, looking at each other, until I finally said, “Tell me what happened.”

She heaved a sigh and looked down into her teacup. “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

“Look at where I live.” I raised my hands and shrugged. “I ain’t got nothing but time, Adette, so you might as well go for the long version.”

She chuckled and took another sip of the steaming liquid. “The headmistress happened. Though she assures me she had her reasons.”

“Why does she always say that?” I rolled my eyes. “How do you think I ended up here? Her ‘reasons’ are what got me in the middle of freakin’ Alaska.”

The knowing smile never slipped from Adette’s face. “Yeah, I heard she hooked you up with Doctor Ferros. Interesting match.”

“How did you…?”

“I’ve spent the past several months running from one rebel pocket to another. I hear everything. Sometimes I know the Regime is going to take a piss, even before they know it.” She chortled at the expression, then nodded toward the basement door. “Let’s walk and talk.”

“Sounds good.”

“The headmistress fixed me up with Icharus DeVille for two reasons. The first was because his father killed my mother. The second is because his father also happened to be one of the leading financiers of the Regime. She made it personal for me, of course, but getting my revenge on him was like shooting one leg out from under the Regime itself.”

“What were her reasons?” I asked as we walked down the stairs and into the cellar.

Adette shrugged. “I think it’s personal, but not just because my mother was her best friend. There have got to be more compelling reasons than that, though I don’t know them. What I’ve learned is she started the school to create her own personal spy network. At least, that’s the rumor.”

“So we aren’t really matched up with the right patrons?” Something about Adette’s words hit me hard, but then she buoyed me when she spoke again.

“No, I think we are. It just takes a while to realize it.” A tear tracked down her cheek, but she wiped it away and gave me a half-smile.

I sipped at my tea, then said, “That’s hard to believe, considering the circumstances. When I arrived here, I thought it had to be a mistake. It took a while for Nicholas to warm up to me.”

“Trust me, I felt the same way about Icharus. His father was the one who had my mother killed, so you can imagine the conflict there. But after everything, I realized I… I missed him and I didn’t want to live without him.”

“But
you
are the one who assassinated Mr. DeVille?”

She reddened and bowed her head. “I don’t know how you heard about that, let alone that I was involved, but…” She gave a single nod. “I’d really rather not think about it. That wasn’t my finest moment, and everything since has been heart-wrenching. It’s not easy being on the run, being a sort of icon for the Constitutionals, and even with Icharus at my side, the going is tough. But the movement is growing in power and now we stand a very real chance of putting the president back in office. That has to be the first priority for me; for all of us.”

“How did you end up here, then?”

Adette reached into the hip pocket of the drab green cargo pants she was wearing and withdrew a gold chain with a watch dangling at the end. As she extended her hand toward mine, my own fingers trembled. The watch was familiar, despite the fact that I had not seen it in over ten years. The metal was warm in my hand as the chain draped over my palm and I shook my head. “He wanted you to know he’s alright,” Adette said, closing my fingers over it. “He’s sorry he never contacted the family, but it was for everyone’s safety – yours as much as his own – to keep people in the dark.”

After I swallowed the lump in my throat, I nodded and whispered, “I understand. That explains how you knew where to find the secret room in the basement. My father told you about it himself, didn’t he?”

“Yes, and when this ends, you’ll see him. Your father has been waiting a long time to see all of you.”

“But will I see Nicholas again?” My gaze locked on Adette’s.

Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes again and she didn’t wipe them away this time. “I can’t answer that. I wonder the same thing about Icharus every single day. He and I split up, so we could carry out separate missions. It was not an easy decision, but we’ve already started the fire, so now we have to let it burn. My act was the catalyst and we need to see it through.”