That Filthy Book (14 page)

“It doesn’t sound…unmanly to you?” Another potato cut in half. More steam.

“God, no. Sounds sexy as fuck.”

He smiled then, the use of a dirty word clearly making him feel better. “What, you into being dominant too?”

“I could try. We might see another side of me.”

“I like these sides.” He looked at me, lopsided grin reaching his eyes.

“Me too. So, you want to try this when we go away?”

“We could do.” He shrugged.

Now
who was feigning nonchalance!

“We could do? Is that it? All you can say?” I laughed lightly. “I may as well get into my role now, try it on for size.
Could do
.” I smiled, a sexy one that didn’t need any practice. “We
will
do.”

Chapter Ten

I splashed out on our anniversary weekend away. It hadn’t been intentional, but when collecting Tess’ prescription in town, I saw an advert for a package trip to Amsterdam in the window of the travel agents. Half price from our local airport, room upgrade, transfers and breakfasts thrown in. It hadn’t taken me more than thirty seconds to make my decision.

Amsterdam was somewhere I’d always wanted to go. The lure of the art museums and the romance of walking along the canals was strong, but now there was also the thought of venturing into the red light district, seeing whores sitting in windows offering their services to punters. Or, and this was something I really fancied, perusing sex shops without worrying that I would bump into someone I knew—something that had kept me from the blacked-out-windowed shop on the edge of town.

My curiosity had become burning of late as to what was held on the sex shop shelves. Jacob’s confession that he wanted me to dominate him, tie him up and do whatever I chose to his big, gorgeous body was becoming more appealing by the hour. My mind was full of new thoughts, new decisions. What should I wear? Should I stock up on extra secure handcuffs? My man was strong, and if teased, heaven only knew what he would be able to break out of. Should I slip into role before tying him up? Make him crawl around our hotel room and kiss my toes, lick the arches of my feet?

It had all been hypothetical, but now, on the morning of our first full day in Amsterdam, I was ready to put my plans into action.

The Rijksmuseum was stunning. The Rembrandts everything I’d hoped they would be. Jacob held my hand and patiently waited at my side as I read the details of each masterpiece. But although I looked calm and studious on the outside, inside my stomach was tight and my heart fluttered.

When we’d arrived, tired and hungry late last night, I’d spotted a shop down a backstreet near to our hotel. The garish purple lights around the window and the flashing sign above the door—
Male and Female Play
—had me angling to go and check it out. Okay, so it wasn’t cultural or educational, but for me, and what I had planned for Jacob, it would, I hoped, be perfect.

Eventually, after a delicious lunch in a small cafe, me salad, Jacob burger, I declared that I was tired and could we head back to the hotel for an afternoon nap?

“Sure, love.” He gestured to the bottle of beer he’d washed his burger down with. “I’m not used to having a drink at lunchtime. We could go and lie down.”

His cheeky smile reassured me he wasn’t all that sleepy. Perhaps he had the same thing in mind as me—making the most of once again having kid-free hours and a nice hotel room. Only this time it was Jacob’s turn. I was going to fulfil his fantasy the way he’d so expertly and graciously delivered mine.

Linking arms, we stepped out into the cool but sunny day. Jacob chatted about work for a few minutes, then I switched the subject to our surroundings. The glistening canal, the medley of house boats complete with potted plant gardens, the locals whizzing past on their bikes and the grand houses standing tall and proud around us.

As we neared the hotel, I started to panic that we’d gone past the sex shop. I glanced down several alley-sized passageways, desperately searching for the sign again.

Finally, I found it.

“Jacob,” I said, halting. “Shall we just have a look down here?”

He frowned and peered into the shadows of the narrow, cobbled street. “Why? Doesn’t look like there’s much down there.”

“Please, just for a minute.”

He shrugged, and when I tugged his hand he stepped in line with me.

As we drew level with the shop I glanced at his face.

He raised his brows and turned to me. “You are a very naughty girl when let loose,” he said with a wry grin.

“I know, and it’s you who’s let me loose.”

He gave a deep, rumbling chuckle.

“It looks open,” I said, indicating the lights around the window, which, although not as bright as last night, were definitely on. “Can you wait here a minute. I need to get some stuff. Alone.”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He frowned. “We don’t know who’s in there or what it’s like.”

“It’ll be fine and I really need to do a bit of shopping for…you know.”

He shifted from foot to foot, his shoulders tensed.

“Jacob…” I brushed my lips over his. “Wait here, five minutes, ten max, and then I promise you,” I lowered my voice and pressed my body to his, “I’ll be all set to give you the time of your life.”

He hardened his jaw and his eyes flashed. “Five minutes. Be quick and don’t spend too much.”

I grinned. “I will, I won’t.” Quickly I stepped away and, before he could change his mind, pushed into the shop.

The bell above the door announced my arrival and the warm, oil-infused heat surrounded me. I was shopping.

My sort of shopping.

* * * *

Okay, so I blew my entire budget. Who knew this stuff would be so expensive? I’d been secreting away housekeeping for several weeks
and
had dug into my emergency jar, but it still didn’t buy everything I wanted. Enough, but not everything I’d had in mind.

But now, standing in the hotel en suite, I skimmed my hands down the smooth PVC corset I’d bought and felt satisfied with my purchases. The corset had a thick silver zip at the front and the tight bones nipped and trimmed my waist dramatically. It was unusual in that it had a halter-neck attached and the thin material over my breasts was black fishnet. It felt lovely over my areolae, ever so slightly scratchy, as if the very point of my nipple might poke through. My breasts were certainly visible, heavy and creamy beneath the black criss-cross.

I’d found long fingerless gloves in the same fishnet material in a bargain bin along with black, silky crotchless panties with tiny zip details over the hips. I didn’t really have the sort of arse for such high-legged, skimpy sexiness, but I didn’t think that would bother Jacob. He’d seemed particularly keen on my arse these last few months, giving it extra attention whether I was standing at the sink or if he was making love to me. Yes, the panties would work, especially since I’d pulled them on over fishnet tights, also crotchless—I had themes going on; crotchless, fishnet.

My legs looked longer than they ever had before, not least because of my most expensive purchase. My most lavish extravagance—knee-length boots with spiked silver heels. They were without a doubt the most erotic footwear I’d ever bought. I’d loved them instantly, and straight away an image of Jacob lying on the floor, me standing next to him in those boots, trailing a whip over his chest had flown into my mind.

I had to have them.

I pulled in a deep breath, leaned towards the mirror and finalised my look with ‘Vamp Red’ lippy and a squirt of heavily spiced ‘Decadent’.

Jacob was in the bedroom, waiting for me. I hadn’t shown him any of my purchases when we’d arrived back at the hotel room, simply told him to shut the curtains, strip off all his clothes and wait for me.

It had felt good, trying out my dominant side, even if I’d added ‘please’ at the end of the sentence.

But not anymore.

When I stepped out now as Mistress Karen, I would not be asking, I would be telling. If I desired Jacob to do something, I would expect to be obeyed.

I reached for the bag of purchases that weren’t for me. They were all for his entertainment.

Pulling open the door, I was pleased to see Jacob had drawn the curtains on the two narrow windows that overlooked the Skinny Bridge. The muted glow in the room was provided by one bedside lamp and shards of daylight from the outer edges of the curtains.

Jacob sat naked in the chair, his hands curled over the arms. He widened his eyes and swept his tongue over his bottom lip as his gaze trawled my sexy new outfit.

I strolled towards him, rolling my hips with each step and delighting at the way my spiked heels sank into the plush carpet. Cool air washed over my pussy and my labia felt engorged with arousal even before we’d begun. I’d never felt so feminine, so in control, and despite the nerves in my belly, a surge of confidence rippled through me. I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew that Jacob wanted it too. There was no need to be nervous.

“On your knees,” I ordered, dumping the bag on the table, covering a magazine about Amsterdam’s entertainment and the room service menu.

He slid to the floor, folding his legs beneath him. His engorged cock was heavy and bobbed as he moved. As he sank, his broad shoulders were suddenly highlighted by a slim streak of light coming through a gap in the curtains. I thought about drawing them tighter, but the sight of the dust motes dancing around his flesh was almost ethereal and I couldn’t bring myself to change the moment.

“Today I am in charge of your pleasure,” I said, delving into the bag. “Which means there are three rules. You will do as I say. You only look directly at me when I allow you to, and, most importantly, you will only come when I give you permission. Do you understand?”

I pulled a black and red flogger from the bag. The leather handle was smooth and had a domed end that reminded me of the head of a cock. The fifty tails were made of thin suede and swished softly as it moved. Like the boots, the flogger had called to me from amidst a huge selection of paddles, bullwhips and crops. I reckoned it would suit my needs. Jacob hadn’t asked for erotic pain the way I had with the branch, but I thought its tickling ends would be a great way to tease and titillate my captive. Make him a little unsure of my moves and increase the anticipation.

“Karen—?”

“Did I say you could speak?”

I used a harsh tone and flicked the tails of my flogger at the ball of his shoulder. They flew through the air and connected a little harder than I’d intended, giving a sharp slap as they struck.

But he didn’t wince or jerk even a fraction, just swallowed tightly and gave a stiff shake of his head. His cock twitched.

Ah, so he liked the flogger inflicting a little pain.

As I stepped around him in a complete circle, I ran the tails over his chest, upper right arm, and back, swaying my hips and exaggerating every movement of my legs and arms.

I paused by his face to make sure he was under no mistake that my outfit was crotchless. “The flogger is for when you are tied up and can do nothing about where and how hard I decide to touch you.”

After resting it on the chair he’d been sitting on, I went back to the bag. This time I pulled out two pairs of silver handcuffs. I’d had a dilemma when we’d arrived and found the headboard to be a neat, shiny affair attached to the wall. There were no sexy wrought iron bars or strong wooden posts to secure Jacob to. But my problem had been solved with the mental image of him on the floor and me in my boots strutting around him. The solution was exactly that, the floor.

“Do you like my outfit?” I asked.

Silence.

“You may speak.”

“Fuck yes.”

I smiled in a satisfied, powerful kind of a way. “Good. Now pull the cover off the mattress and place it over here, in the big space on the floor at the end of the bed.”

He did as I’d asked, moving on hands and knees to complete the task. It seemed strange to see my husband crawling. The muscles in his back rippled and the dip of his sweet arse cheeks sank. The sight made my pussy wet and my nipples peaked against their scratchy containment. He was truly beautiful.

“Good, now attach your left wrist to the leg of the bed.” I dropped the handcuffs near him. “And hurry, we don’t have all day.”

Oh, we so did! Today and tomorrow.

Metal clicked and Jacob sat with his left arm extended, handcuff fixed tight.

“Lie completely flat on the floor,” I said, holding up the other set of handcuffs, the pair that would render him completely at my mercy.

He shuffled down, and I moved swiftly to secure his other arm then stood, straight and proud, and looked down at the perfect specimen of a man I’d caught for myself.

His eyelids were heavy, his mouth slightly parted. His chest rose and fell quickly, as if he’d been doing something strenuous in the garden. His arms were raised high, the same way he’d tied me to the trees in the woods. The delicate skin of his underarm, coated in coal-black silken hair, was exposed; as was the outline of his ribs as his torso stretched long and lean.