A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (26 page)

Cain calls out for Chinese food, and we shower separately.  In my bathing area, typical of Cain's wonderful attention to detail, I find everything I have at home.  The shower stall is huge with adjustable jets everywhere and a steam feature, and after a long, hot shower, I slip into a black dressing robe I found hanging on a hook by the towel rack.  It's silk on the outside and fine crushed velvet inside.  I feel like I've stepped into a dream, and though I know better than to get used to it, I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it while it lasts.

When the food arrives, Cain knocks on my door, and I invite him in.  He's wearing pajama pants, but he stops me as I go through my drawers looking for the same.

"Uh-uh," he says, closing the drawer.

"Can I at least keep the robe?" I ask.

"For now." 

"What about tomorrow?  I didn't notice anything leather in here.  What am I supposed to wear?"

"You'll find an armoire in the dungeon full of corsets and gowns I've selected for you." Knowing the time and attention he invests in dressing me makes me feel cherished.  I want to say something to let him know how much I appreciate it, but I end up treating it with my usual finesse.

"And is there an armoire with your wardrobe?  Maybe a collar, a leash, a harness..."

"Those are all for submissives, Evan." 

"I know."

"You're incorrigible," he says, leading me by the hand to the bedroom.  We eat in bed as he flips through the channels of a TV that comes down from the ceiling, and I'm finally ready to ask him about the one thing his mother said earlier that didn't make sense to me

"Cain," I begin, my voice small and apologetic for bringing the bitch up again tonight.  "What did your mother mean when she told me she married beneath her station?"  Cain shakes his head, sighing.

"It's something she has hung over my dad's head as long as I can remember.  He comes from a prominent, very wealthy family on the east coast, but none of the money is his until his mother dies, so Catherine has him by the financial balls.  I wouldn't be surprised if he serves her with divorce papers at his mother's funeral." 

"But wouldn't his mother take care of him if he got a divorce now?"

"Dad picked a wife just like his dear, old mother," Cain scowls, "and he didn't have anyone looking out for him like Cay, Steph, Cary, and I.  We were lucky. Our grandfather set up trust funds for us before he died.  Dad got married right out of college and went to work at the distillery, so he has absolutely nothing of his own, and since we were just kids, he would always warn us to never live under anyone's thumb.  It was clear whose thumb he meant, and that was the best advice anyone ever gave me.  I started investing from my trust fund when I was thirteen, but even if I had lost everything, I'd collect garbage before I'd have my finances tied to my mother." 

"Is that why she is so upset that you broke up with Elizabeth?"  I ask, and though I really shouldn't be bringing her up on top of Catherine, I can't stop myself.  I'm so ashamed of myself for slinking behind a ficus tree when I should have been setting her straight, but once I saw Cain with her, I felt like I had no place by his side.  He should have a perfect, blonde beauty bred by the Southern Californian elite on his arm, not the dark-haired child of a dead, coonass father and a mother who probably thinks she's better off for having her daughter run away from home.  I really have nothing to offer him but my body and the sexual submissiveness he desires.

"My mother is obsessed with having some semblance of control over me, and getting me to marry one of the daughters of her country club bitch friends would have given her that illusion."

"So were you engaged to Elizabeth before we met?"

"Not exactly," he says, and my confused look urges him to explain.  "She was my first long term submissive.  I had known her since we were kids.  We had hooked up on and off since high school, but it was different when she became my submissive.  We got really close, and it was great until I started to want to try it with other women.  I didn't want to lose her, so when I broke up with her, I promised her if neither of us was married in five years' time, I'd marry her."

"Were you in love with her?" 

"No.  I felt something for her, something more than I ever had before, but it wasn't love," he says coldly.

"Then how could she expect you to honor that promise?"

"Because when she brought it up about a year ago, I said I'd keep it. It will be five years when I turn twenty-eight in November."

"You were going to be ready to give up all other women forever in two months?" I ask, incredulous.

"I've been growing bored of whoring around for a while now," he jokes.

"I don't know how to take that," I tease back.

"I'm speaking as myself before I met you.  I was feeling like I could be ready to give up my freedom and be faithful, though I knew with Liz if I found I couldn't handle monogamy, she'd look the other way," Cain says, then he pauses.  Lying facing each other in the bed, he caresses the side of my face with his left hand.  "Evan, swear that you won't let these details about my past bother you because nothing I say when referencing it applies to you."

"I swear," I say, ravenous for the information even though I'm a little afraid of it.

"Okay.  I agreed to keep my promise to Liz because of Lucy.  When Lucy and I met, I thought I had found my soulmate, and..." 

"I don't like where this is going," I warn him.  I agreed not to be jealous regarding his past, but Lucy is in his present.

"Patience," Cain says as he brushes a stray lock of hair out of my face before continuing.  "I
thought
what I felt for Lucy was romantic love because it was the only time I had ever felt any sort of love for a woman, but the first and
only time we kissed, we realized it wasn't.  I became convinced I wasn't capable of falling in love, and four years later that hadn't changed, so when Liz reminded me of my promise, I realized that there had to be something between us because we kept finding our way back to each other. I thought what I felt for her was the best I could expect. Then I met you."  I wasn't enjoying this story at all until he said that.  "And you know the rest."

"Yeah," I say, biting my lower lip bashfully.

"And I can never forgive Liz for what she said about you."

"In her defense," I say, feeling sorry for her now that I know the whole story, "the thought of losing you is enough to make a girl crazy,"

"And she had to face the beautiful woman she lost me to," he says.

"Honestly, I don't think she believes for one minute that she's lost you."

"She lost me the moment I laid eyes on you, Evan.  She just didn't have any way of knowing this time was any different than all of the other times I broke up with her for someone else."

"How many other times?"

"More than I can remember.  Technically I've never cheated on Liz.  I've gone out with other women while we were together, but I always broke it off with her before having sex with anyone else.  By the time I met you, she didn't even get upset about it anymore."  I am completely blown away.  I can't believe this woman even wanted to marry him if he has done this to her for five years.  Once would be all it would take for me to tell him to go fuck himself.

"What did you tell her when you would break up with her?"

"The truth."

"The truth?"

"That I had met someone else I wanted to fuck."

"God, Cain!  No wonder she felt like she had to say that about me!"

"That's not what I told her about you because it wasn't the whole truth.  I told her that I had met someone I'd like to get to know better."

"Yeah, right."

"I swear."

"Then if she was used to you saying you wanted to fuck someone else, hearing that was probably even worse." 

...which in some twisted way makes me feel so much better.

In the morning, Cain is gone when I wake.  I vaguely remember him speaking to me before he left, reminding me that Lucy will be here to take me to the dungeon at 2:00 and that my cell phone is charging on his desk.  I go to the fridge looking for something to eat and find a note telling me how long to place my breakfast in the microwave.  On a wooden tray is a goblet of orange juice, two covered plates with fresh strawberries, and a homemade Belgian waffle, and the
pièce
 
de résistance
is a cup of fresh whipped cream.  It amazes me that someone like Cain, who could easily afford to have a dedicated chef to cook all of his meals for him, chooses to not only do these things for himself but to do them exceptionally well.

As I pop the large plate in the microwave, I take a sip of the orange juice and find that he has put champagne in it.

Champagne, strawberries, and whipped cream?  Is this Cain's idea of a joke?
I wonder as I set the tray on the breakfast bar.  Then I notice a black gift box.  It looks very BDSM with black nylon ribbons tied through thick, silver grommets on the lid and sides, and there's a handwritten card addressed to me.

Evan,

You may find these useful, though I still very much enjoyed your improvisation.

Cain

Excited, I untie the ribbons.  Inside I find a blindfold, a set of wrist and ankle cuffs, and four nylon tethers - a very tame kit compared to some I've seen but perfect for what I did to him last night.  And now I can't stop thinking about last night...reliving every moment in my head from the time we got out of the bathtub...

With Cain compliant, lying in the bed waiting for me, I slip into my wonderful, new closet to get dressed and grab some more silk stockings, then wearing nothing but the corset and stilettos, I parade into the bedroom, ready to tie him up.

"You look incredible," Cain says.

"Shhh," I hiss as I reveal the stockings from behind my back.

I bind his right wrist to the dark walnut bedpost that rises four feet over the thick, memory foam mattress, sucking his fingers into my mouth as I go.  I bind the other wrist, then move to his feet, biting them, his already rock-hard cock twitching to each slight jolt of pain.  When I have him splayed out, he's completely at my mercy and hot as hell because of it.

"I don't have the proper tools for this, so I guess until you buy them for me, you'll have to be satisfied with improvisation," I say, indicating his bonds as I pick up the remaining two stockings and straddle him.  "Lift your head."  I tie one stocking around his head as makeshift blindfold, and I use the last one as a gag.  I only need his mouth for kissing, and as it reinforces the his submission to me, I'm willing to work around a thin barrier of silk.

I slide down Cain's body and I settle between his legs, starting in the little dip where his inner thigh meets his pelvis, grazing him with my teeth as I make small circles with my tongue, teasing and denying him until he's so hard his cock is parallel to his body.  When I finally take it in my hand, it's barely malleable, as if it will break if I try to move it.

I reposition myself, lying across his abs, stroking him with one hand, the other beneath his balls, a wet thumb flickering to give him the illusion of a second tongue at work, and when I take him into my mouth, he shudders, breathing my name.  I speed up my attack, my voracious tongue coaxing him toward madness, pushing him on until he's so close he'll erupt if I breathe on him, then I stop, calm him, and start it all over again.

"Please, Evan, please let me come," he pleads, his speech unaffected by the gag, but when I freeze, playing the cruel mistress who is unmoved by his begging, instead of disappointment, I hear a soft "oh, fuck, yes!" muttered under his breath.  It confuses me, but I go with it.

"I'm going to fuck you again, but you are not allowed to come until I give you permission.  Can you be trusted?" I ask.

"Yes.  I swear," he assures me, and I mount him, astride and facing away from him.  I have to lie on my back atop him to make it work, my hands flat on the bed at his sides and my feet by his knees as I balance myself in a crab walk position.  It's awkward as fuck, but the length of my hair covers his face, helping the insufficient blindfold hide my gracelessness as I let my desire guide me, his cock like hot steel inside me, torturing every nerve ending as I arch my back into the perfect angle.  Cain pulls at his bonds as he thrusts into me, and the ache of my muscles being used in unnatural ways intensifies the burning need inside.

"Come for me, Evan," Cain whispers, his words almost enough to push me over the edge.

"You come for me," I command, and like an animal, he growls, pushing into me hard and fast, over and over until he explodes, the sensation of his release inside me taking me with him, screaming and shuddering as I throw my head back violently, my hair whipping his face.

Exhausted, I lie atop him, feeling his chest heave and his breath hot against my neck, and when I slide to lie beside him, I realize I didn't think this through, neither of our towels within reach as the evidence glistens all over Cain's lower body in the dim light.  He doesn't seem to mind at all.  Even after I untie one wrist, he just puts his arm around me, holding me so tight it hurts.

And I love the way it hurts.