Wild Submission (4 page)

She lays there, her eyes bright with desire,
her lips parted with anticipation.

I take three steps back, and sit down in the
chair at the foot of the bed.

“Now, Isabelle, you’re going to do
everything I say.”

“Yes,” she nods eagerly.

“Yes what?” I demand.

“Yes, Master,” she quickly corrects
herself.

I reward her with a smile.

“Good. Now I want to see you touch yourself.
I’m going to watch you come.”

I freeze, staring at Cam with a nervous
excitement. He’s lounging back in his chair, but his body looks
tense and poised for action.

“That was an order,” he tells me with a
steely note. “Touch yourself, Isabelle.”

My stomach twists.

No one’s ever watched me before. Then again,
Brent was never concerned with my pleasure. He only cared about his
satisfaction, not mine.

I take a deep breath. It seems so intimate,
so vulnerable.

You can do this.

I’m not really sure what he wants me to do,
but I’ve seen enough porn to have an idea. Brent loved to make me
watch; he said I could learn a thing or two from the girls
on-screen.

Now, I bat my eyelashes at Cam and start
squeezing my breasts like the girls in the movies. “Mmm,” I moan
loudly, stroking down between my legs. I’m tender and turned on
from that amazing shower, but I’m way too self-conscious right now
to feel anything but awkward. Still, I fake it as best I can.

“Oh,” I breathe, “that feels so good.”

“Does it?” Cam’s voice comes, amused.

I open my eyes. He’s looking at me, but he
doesn’t seem impressed.

My heart sinks. “This is what you wanted,
isn’t it?” I ask, confused.

He shakes his head. “I told
you, this is about
your
pleasure. What
you
want. You don’t have to fake anything with
me.”

Cam rises to his feet and moves towards the
closet, flinging open the door. My pulse kicks. What could be in
there? A moment later he emerges with a crescent-shaped black box
and sets it on the floor beside the bed. There’s a remote control
in one of his hands and I’m burning with curiosity now, but I know
better than to ask questions.

He lays on the bed beside me and runs a hand
softly over my naked side. I shudder from the heat of his
touch.

“Stand up,” he commands, pulling me slowly
off the bed. I do as he says, still wondering what he has planned
for me. . “I want the real you. I want to know how you come when
you’re alone. When no one’s watching.”

His voice caresses me, his deep Scottish
accent low and sexy as hell.

“Now sit.”

I settle onto the arched box, and as my
thighs press against the sides, I feel a ridged texture underneath
my freshly shaven pussy. My heart quickens.

“This is a Sybian machine. It vibrates for
your pleasure, but I control the speed. I’m going to blindfold you
and watch you ride it.”

A rush of anticipation swoops through me as
he ties a soft cloth over my eyes and I feel the start of a slow
vibration beneath me.

“Think about how it felt in the shower just
now. My hands sliding over those pert breasts, how you got wet just
feeling my touch.”

God, this is hot. He murmurs encouragement
as I relax onto the vibrating box and stroke my nipples. Soft.
Slow.

“Can you feel it?” Cam continues. “How hard
your nipples are. How your skin puckers, begging to be
touched?”

I slowly squeeze and roll my nipples into
stiff peaks. A moan escapes my lips, and I hear an answering growl
from Cam. So close, I can feel the heat from his body, smell his
clean, fresh, masculine scent. The vibration gets more powerful
between my thighs.

“Now, lower,” Cam orders. “Show me how you
like it.”

My cheeks flush hot. My heart races as I
obey his thrilling order.

And then I move both hands lower, gripping
tight to the machine between my thighs, grinding my clit against
the powerful throb of the soft silicone.

Yes
.

I moan again, louder, loving the feel of the
machine pulsing against me just right, right where I need it most.
My clit is swollen, throbbing, and now I find my rhythm, circling
my hips in swift, sure strokes.

I can feel myself losing control. It’s too
much. “Cam,” I gasp.

I feel hands on my waist as Cam lifts me
back onto the bed and away from the machine. He knew it was too
intense. He pushes my thighs back. Baring me to him.

With the blindfold on, I can’t see what he’s
about to do. All I know is, after riding the machine for him, I’m
close. Too close. The tension in my body is tighter than it’s ever
been.

He’s still holding my thighs apart, his
breath hot against my exposed, damp skin.

He’s watching me. He’s seeing
everything.

I can’t wait any longer.

But I don’t dare move.

“Isabelle.” I snap to attention. “Touch
yourself.”

I slide my hand down to stroke at my soft,
bare pussy. I arch up against my hand and slowly, push one finger
into my wetness.

“Ohh.” The intensity of my groan shocks me.
Reality rushes in and my hand freezes. What am I doing?

“Shhh.” Cam’s voice is calm. He covers my
hand with his own. “Don’t stop, I’m right here.” He tugs off the
blindfold and I see him kneeling between my legs.

I swallow hard, staring into his eyes.
They’re fierce, burning with lust. Slowly, he moves his fingers
against mine, guiding my hand back to my clit and wet, aching
pussy.

“You like it slow, my sweet?” Cam murmurs in
my ear. He guides my strokes, his large hand covering my own.
Pressing my fingers deeper inside me. Pushing my palm to grind
against my clit.

It feels incredible. I buck up against the
pressure, already hurtling to the edge but wanting so much
more.

“Tell me what you need,” Cam commands
me.

I whimper, not able to speak the words
aloud.

“Tell me,” he says again, and then his hand
stops moving.

“You,” I moan desperately. “Please, Cam. I
need you inside me.”

He answers by plunging two fingers deep into
my slick pussy.

Fuck
!

I thrust against him, out of my mind with
the pleasure. He drives again, grinding his palm against my clit
and curling his fingers, finger-fucking me with relentless
precision. I cry out, writhing with need.

“Now come for me, Isabelle. Let it all
go.”

His permission opens something inside
me.

I cry out as the climax rips through me, the
most intense orgasm of my life. It leaves me gasping in a haze of
pleasure. When I finally turn my head and open my eyes, Cam is
gazing down at me.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asks, stroking my
cheek.

I nod. Enjoyment is an understatement.

“Good.” Cam smiles—but it’s a smile laced
with something powerful that makes my stomach flip.

“That orgasm was my gift to you, Isabelle,
and I promise, this is just the beginning.”

I walk out of the room before I take her
right now, just pin those slim wrists to the bed and slam my cock
into her slick cunt the way she begged.

“I need you inside
me.”

Fuck, I deserve a medal right now. But my
rules are sacrosanct. No sex with my subs until I have total
control. And Isabelle is only just beginning her journey.

And beginning to test my willpower to the
limits.

I climb the stairs to my atrium, looking to
find some clarity and peace. The room is on the top floor of the
townhouse, a glass-walled playroom with views of the city lights
and carefully positioned greenery to shield my activities from
watchful eyes.

I pour a drink and pace the small room,
feeling like a caged beast.

Nothing about tonight is going like it
should. I should be in charge—of my sub, the situation and my own
emotions—but I’m not. I can’t stop the feelings of possessive
emotion that rear up whenever I’m around this woman. I thought that
entering into the agreement with her would help keep those feelings
contained. Create a familiar framework that would stop me from
losing control.

What was I thinking? Isabelle’s not like any
other woman I’ve dominated before. Whether I want to admit it or
not, she’s different, special.

The rules exist to protect us both; that’s
why there’s a contract. And already, I’m breaking them. Usually, I
keep myself totally detached from my sub’s history or life story
and simply focus on giving her pleasure, but being with Isabelle
tonight, watching her eyes darken with passion and excitement as
she touched herself… All I wanted was to know more. Experience
more. I want to get inside her, understand her, and discover every
little thing that’s hidden behind her perfect façade.

I could tell myself it’s part of the game,
but that would be a lie. This is way more than just my usual
desire. It’s a restless hunger that won’t be satisfied.

I sip my scotch and think about what she
shared with me tonight, the brief details of her tragic life. She
acts to the world as if she’s just another beautiful, frivolous
girl, but the truth is, she’s been through more than I could ever
imagine.

Still, she’s hiding something from me. And I
will discover it all. Stripping back her defenses one by one until
she gives me everything. And I’ll give her in return, total
freedom.

The anticipation curls through me like a
drug. Isabelle will submit, and I will know it all. Every inch of
her skin, every moan of pleasure. Every dark secret in her
past.

Her surrender will be absolute.

I wake the next morning back in the guest
suite. After waiting for Cam in his bed for a half hour, I
realized, the lesson was over. He runs so hot and cold, it’s hard
to know what’s coming next, but that’s thrilling too. He’s
unpredictable. Impossible to control.

I stretch lazily and yawn.
I haven’t felt this good in years. The morning sun is pale through
the windows, and the whole world feels brand new. I shiver with
bliss at the memory of his hands on me.
Inside me
. Nobody has ever focused so
completely giving me pleasure, or been so attuned to what I want
and need.

But Cam was holding back, I could tell. His
touch was maddeningly gentle, driving me out of my mind with need.
I don’t want him to be careful. I want him to take me hard and
fast, I want to feel him slamming into me with all the power I know
is stored in that lean, muscular body.

I hope he will. And soon.

I hop out of bed and quickly freshen up. I
pull on a silky, sexy robe and pad down the hall in search of the
man himself.

“Cam?”

I enter the kitchen, expecting to find him
there like every other morning so far. But the room is empty.

“Cam?” I call again, but there’s no
reply.

He’s gone.

My heart cracks a little. I like our
mornings together, talking over breakfast. It feels like a routine,
like I belong here, but clearly, Cam doesn’t agree.

Then I see a vase of roses on the kitchen
table, and a note with my name.

Isabelle,

You were beautiful last night. Thank you for
sharing yourself with me. I look forward to tonight’s lesson.

Cam

I hug the note to my chest, beaming. I don’t
know how I’m going to wait until tonight. I hear my phone ringing
from the next room. It’s my friend Olivia.

“Oh, thank God!” she exclaims, sounding
frazzled. “I forgot to pick up the cupcakes for later, could you
stop by the bakery on your way?”

It takes me a moment to remember: today I’m
supposed to meet with my friends to help organize an upcoming
charity function. “Of course!” I exclaim, feeling guilty I’d
forgotten. I was supposed to host, but Olivia has stepped in to
help me out. “Just text me the details, I’m on my way.”

“You’re an angel!”

Olivia hangs up and I swing into action.
Jeans and a casual T-shirt may be my preferred outfits when I’m
lounging around the house, but if I’m going to take my usual place
in the society clique, I need to be at the top of my game. I select
a cream designer dress from the wardrobe Cam ordered me, and add
hand-tooled Italian leather boots and a huge pair of
sunglasses.

When I look in the mirror, I see my old self
again. Isabelle Ashcroft, heiress and party girl. But it’s feeling
more and more like a mask these days: hiding the true self I’m so
scared to reveal.

What if Cam sees me for who I really am?

I feel a chill, but I shake off the thought.
I head downstairs and hail a cab, stopping by Magnolia Bakery to
pick up a box of cupcakes before arriving at Olivia’s apartment on
the Upper East Side.

“Miss Ashcroft.” The doorman tips his cap as
he holds open the heavy glass doors. I nod back, struck with how
many doors that name has opened for me.

I didn’t lie to Cam last night, but I didn’t
tell him the whole truth either. I glossed over my childhood,
because I swore I was putting that life behind me, once and for
all. From the day Ashcroft and his wife took me home with them, I
was determined to belong in their wealthy, privileged world. I was
young, but I learned everything I could about manners and
etiquette, mimicking the people around me and researching online
and in books until you’d never guess I grew up poor, eating boxed
mac and cheese—on the good days.

They wouldn’t regret choosing me. They
wouldn’t wish they could give me back.

Now, I’m a part of this world. Most of my
friends don’t even know I was adopted, and those who do, barely
remember. I’ve fooled them all with my performance, because it’s
the one thing that keeps me safe from the shadows of my past.