Figure 8 (9 page)

He unclasps my bra with ease and lets it drop to the floor. Cupping my breasts in his delicate hands, he squeezes gently before lowering his head down to take my pert nipple into his hot mouth. My head falls back as he teases each nipple with expert precision. He moves his way back up my neck, towards my mouth. He places a soft peck on my lips then moves, leaving me feeling empty. I am half naked sat spread out and incredibly horny on his kitchen worktop and he leaves me. I watch him intently as he heads towards the freezer, pulling out a bag of ice cubes, he then walks back towards me.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he rasps, desire making his American accent more prominent right now.

He takes out a cube of ice from the bag and places it onto my nipple. I flinch as the sudden coldness attacks my skin, but soon get used to the sensation it evokes. It starts to melt as the heat coming off of my body evaporates it. He pops it into his mouth sucking off the excess water; the look on his face is pure lust. He then teases it on to my other nipple, using circular motions. He bends down to suck off the liquid it leaves on each nipple and then slowly he works his way down my stomach, stopping at my belly button and letting the water drip inside.

He reaches for my knickers and pulls them slowly off each leg, I shuffle my bum as he pulls them down to help him along. Taking the ice again he moves down further over my pubic bone towards my clit. He stops, and teases my clit with the ice; it feels slightly painful but so good, so different to anything I have ever experienced before. He parts my folds and carefully slides the ice inside. He lowers his head, all the time watching my face, and blows on my clit. I shudder at the sensation; I can feel the burn building inside of me. The ice melts quickly in my hot core and he thrusts two fingers inside of me. I let out a moan of pleasure and then his mouth is on me, licking and sucking my clit while teasing me with his expert fingers. My whole body burns and that all too familiar feeling starts to fill me. My senses tingle and my head drops back, I tighten my grip on his fingers as I ride out the explosion that is consuming my body. He doesn’t stop lapping at my clit and my orgasm rides on and on. I feel like my body is literally going to break apart.

“Damon, Please,” I scream out.

“Shush, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he murmurs as I feel the wetness of my arousal seep down my slit. When I finally open my eyes he is watching me with a satisfied smirk on his face. “That was the most erotic thing I have ever seen, I could watch you come all day.”

“I think I would be dead if I came like that all day,” I laugh. He lifts me with ease into his muscular arms and I wrap myself around his neck, twisting his silky brown hair in my fingers as he walks through the open plan living area towards the bedroom door. We enter the room and he places me on the bed. I lean back on my elbows watching him. I hadn’t noticed in my hazy state that he is still fully clothed.

“I want to ask you something.” He looks nervous suddenly.

“Anything,” I pant, and I mean it. At this moment in time I would do anything for him. I watch him as he leans over towards the chest of drawers next to the bed and pulls out a set of handcuffs, I gasp.

Is he into Christian Grey shit?

“You can say no, but I would really love to tie you up.” I’ve never done anything like this before. My idea of adventurous before tonight was coitus more ferarum or doggie style for those who don’t speak Latin. Needless to say my previous sexual encounters have been a bit mundane.

“Okay,” it’s barely a whisper but I don’t hesitate. Damon’s eyes light up at the word I just uttered. To be honest I find it fascinating and I am excited to see what this feels like. He moves towards me, taking my hands and lifting them over my head before pushing me flat on the bed. He lowers his body down, encompassing me, never once letting go of my hands. He bends down and his mouth is on mine kissing me hungrily.

“Move to the centre of the bed for me beautiful,” he says, when he finally lets me come up for air. I do as he asks and he takes each wrist and attaches them to a cuff. He then connects them to the hooks that are attached to the posts of the bed. I hadn’t noticed them the last time I was here, although it isn’t really something you look for on a bedpost. He stands up and admires his work. I am butt naked, spread out in the middle of this giant bed but I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed, I feel beautiful and sexy and there is only one person that has made me feel this way. Damon moves to my feet and takes my ankles spreading them apart. He then continues to attach each ankle to some rope, which he ties to the bottom posts of the bed. He looks at me greedily and I have never felt so turned on in all my life.

He stands back and watches me as I squirm in my restraints, wanting to feel his hot mouth on me. He moves towards my legs and slowly inches his way towards my hot, wet, sex. Lowering his head he blows lightly on my clit, before methodically stroking circles against it with the pad of his thumb. He gently coats me with my own arousal before making his way south, heading for the place that no one has been before. I stiffen at his touch, unsure of what to do.

Do I want this? Of course you do Izzy, you want everything this man gives to you!

“It’s okay Izzy, I will be gentle, and it will be nothing more than a finger. Say now if you want me to stop.” He must have sensed my unease at where he was going; I think about it then relax.

“I want this.” I breathe out. He gently rubs up and down my hole.

“I don’t think we are going to need lube for this, you’re so wet and ready for me.” I feel slightly uneasy about what he is doing, I have no idea what this is going to be like. It’s a first for me and I don’t want it to be an unpleasant experience. He slips the tip of his finger inside me and it feels strange, not hurting strange, more wrong strange, but I like it. He continues stroking up and down, each time going inside a little bit further. I rock my hips to the rhythm and realise that I am actually enjoying the sensation. Once he has his finger fully inside me, he lowers his head and licks straight up my pussy. The feeling is exquisite and I buck under his touch, the handcuffs rattling against the wooden posts. He continues his rhythm in and out whilst licking and sucking and I can feel myself building. I lose all function as my body tips over the edge and I shatter into a million pieces. When I open my eyes, I see Damon piercing me with his dark blues filled with more than lust, more than desire, I see want and need in them too.

Oh my God, Wow! I swear that was the best feeling ever.

He stands up off of the bed and removes his shirt. My eyes never leaving his, he unbuttons his jeans and slowly lets them fall to the floor. I sigh when his cock springs free from his boxer shorts. It’s so big and solid and I want it inside of me now. I am becoming impatient and I want to touch him. I try to move my hands but the cuffs just rattle against the wood.

“Not yet babe,” he grins, acknowledging my attempt to get out of my restraints.

“But I want to feel you. I want to touch you, please,” I beg. He walks towards me and kneels next to me on the bed. He takes my breast into his mouth all the time kneading and cupping my other one. He runs his tongue up my breastbone, along my throat and up my neck before trailing feather light kisses up my chin and cheek. I pull again on my restraints but it’s useless. I feel his chest moving. Is he laughing at me? He moves his kisses lower, kissing past my sex and all the way down my thigh, my leg and ankle. He pulls on the knots of the rope and they come apart easily, freeing my ankles from my restraints. He runs his fingers down my foot and I squirm when he touches them, and then gasp as he slips my toe inside his mouth. I hate feet and I hate anyone touching my feet, but Damon sucking on my toes has to be the hottest thing ever. He licks up my instep and then makes his way back up my body, very slowly, tantalising me, teasing me, making me wait for him. It’s torture. He plants a final peck on my head before leaning over and releasing my hand from its captor, he does the same with the other hand. I squeeze my wrists to get the blood circulating again.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, his brow creased in concern.

“No, not at all.” I reassure him with a smile.

“Good, next time I will leave you tied up for longer.” He’s leans on top of me again, his stiff length digging into my thigh.

“Please, I want you inside of me.” I have never been the type of person to grovel. However, it appears I am not afraid to beg where Damon is concerned. He moves his cock towards my entrance, teasing before slowly sliding inside of me.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” My heart skips a beat at his endearment. He makes me feel so special when he calls me things like that. He fills me to the hilt, stretching me and it feels delicious. He speeds up his rhythm whilst thumbing my clit. I am on the verge of yet another mind consuming orgasm.

“I’m not going to last long baby, you’re milking me with your tight little pussy, come for me.” His words are my undoing and I combust all around him. I see stars as I scream out his name. When I open my eyes and look up to see his face my heart clenches. He looks amazing. Mr Control has just lost himself inside of me. I watch as he jerks violently riding out the remnants of his orgasm.

I wake with a jolt. Reaching over to my phone next to the bed, I press the button and glance at the time, 6 a.m. I groan. The alarm is going off, I turn over to see Damon reaching to switch it off. Stretching, I notice how sore my body is, I feel like I’ve run a marathon. Damon turns over to face me looking delicious, his hair is messed up and his sleepy face is dreamy. It should be illegal to look that hot in a morning.

“Good Morning beautiful,” he smiles at me and it’s the most amazing thing I have ever woken up to.

“Good Morning,” I reply, instantly put my hand over my mouth. “Morning Breath,” I cringe. He laughs at me.

“I like your morning breath, afternoon breath and night breath.” He reaches over and tucks a stray piece of hair around my ear.

“Why am I awake so early?” I try to grumble but I can’t help feeling so happy.

“I have to get to work early, and you have an appointment to keep,” he says with a wink.

“I’ve still not decided yet what I want to do,” I say quietly, afraid of what he will think.

“Isabelle, I meant it last night when I said that I wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to see someone else. I want you better and I want to help you to get better but I can do that in a personal capacity as well as a professional one.” He leans over and kisses me hungrily. Breaking the kiss, he says, “If you don’t feel comfortable speaking to me that’s fine, I can refer you over to Marian. She is a wonderful doctor, but please promise not to shut me out. I want to know things Iz, I want you to open up to me. I just think it would be easier to do it with me rather than saying it all twice.” I nod my head. “We can talk about this at our appointment anyway. We are wasting valuable time talking right now. Bring that sexy little ass here, I have something waiting with your name written all over it.” He smiles and I forget how to breathe. I lean up as he pulls me on top of him.

Damon drops me at my flat two hours later. I creep in knowing that Jen will still be in bed and I don’t want to wake her. I had texted her last night to let her know that I wouldn’t be home, and I knew she was out with Jared anyway so he probably stopped over. I shower and change my clothes, choosing to go casual in jeans and vest top. The spring air is warm but I top it off with a thin cardigan and I slip on my converse. Just as I am about to leave the flat, the phone rings.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Is this Isabelle Riley?” a deep American voice says.

“Yes, this is Isabelle, who am I speaking with?”

“Stay away from
him,”
the voice threatens, as my hairs stand on end.

“What?” I ask confused, but the line goes dead.

What was that about? Who is the ‘he’ that the person referred to? Do they mean Damon?

Obviously whoever this person is they’re American and if they mean Damon they must know him. They also know me and they know my phone number, which means they also must know my address. So many things are running around my mind right now. I start to panic. I need to talk to Damon. What do I say? Do I just tell him
?

Breathe Izzy.

I start to hyperventilate. I’ve finally found someone who makes me so happy and safe, why would someone want to take that away from me? I hear a noise and look up, Jenny is stood in the doorway looking at me. Her blonde hair is pulled up on top of her head in a messy bun and her face is covered in day old mascara. She looks like shit.

“What’s up?” she asks concerned. I am now sitting on the floor against the kitchen island, grasping the phone tightly.

“Eh?” I’m still in shock I think. “Oh, Nothing.” I jump up smoothing out my clothes and I plaster a fake smile on my face. I am used to fake smiling, it comes so naturally to me after years of practice.

“Spill now Riley, what’s happened?” Unfortunately my fake smile doesn’t work on Jenny, I can never get anything past this girl, she knows me like the back of her hand and vice versa.

“I had a phone call it just...I don’t know it scared the shit out of me.” She looks even more confused now.

“I know I’m still half asleep ‘n all, but can you stop talking in riddles and just give it to me straight.”

“There was a man on the phone he knew my name and then he just said to stay away from him.”

“Stay away from who? The man on the phone? Who is he?” She is giving me a headache. I start to massage my temples before continuing.

“No they were his exact words. ‘Stay away from him.’ I don’t know who he was, he was very menacing,” I say exasperated. “I need to go, I have an appointment to keep.” I stand throwing my bag over my shoulder.

“Iz, stop and talk to me, tell me what’s going on, I’m so confused. I haven’t had a coffee yet and I didn’t sleep well. Please stop for one minute and tell me exactly what’s going on,” she looks at me sincerely. “Please,” she begs.

“I’m sorry. I do have to go. I need to go and talk to Damon about this. I will explain everything this afternoon.” She smiles lightly and I turn and head out of the door. As I make my way towards the tram station my mind is running overtime. I’m in such a fog; I accidentally bump into a man walking the other way. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I call out. The man just grunts and keeps on walking. I make it to the tram station just in time to jump onto the next one. I find a seat and get myself ready to take the short journey to Damon’s office.

As I head into the building of Damon Harmon PhD, butterflies dance around my stomach. I climb the single flight of stairs and enter the waiting room.

“Hi, I am here to see Damon. I mean Mr Harmon,” I stutter.

“Good Morning Isabelle,” Candy says plastering on a fake smile. “Mr Harmon said you can go on in as soon as you arrive,” she scoffs waving me in the direction of his office. I wonder what has brought on this animosity towards me. Surely she can’t know the relationship between Damon and me already? I knock on the door opening it slightly and sticking my head in to make sure he is not busy. He looks up from his desk, he looks anxious and worried but as soon as his eyes meet mine he flashes me the hottest knicker-dropping smile. I open the door fully and walk in, suddenly feeling sick.

“Hi,” I say quietly

“Hi.” He smiles back. Standing, he gestures for me to come in. I shut the door behind me and walk the short distance across the room. I stop in front of him and he grabs me round my hips, pulling me the rest of the way towards him. My nerves tingle and my nipples pebble, he evokes such a reaction out of my body just from one touch. He stares into my eyes, then pauses and pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks suddenly looking concerned. I had spent the whole way here wondering what to do about the telephone call. I’ve been in two minds as to whether I should mention it to him, or not. However it appears that he can already read me like a book.

“Erm, nothing really. It’s just that before I left the flat I had a strange phone call and it left me a bit shaken, that’s all.” I try to shrug it off. “It’s probably nothing.” His whole face changes with every word that comes from my lips.

“Tell me about it.”

“Just some man with an American accent he asked for me by name then he said I should stay away from him… you… I don’t know. I don’t know who he meant he just said him.” I watch him as I tell him what happened and with each word I see the colour drain from his face. He turns away from me and makes his way to his chair behind his desk. His eyes are dark when he looks back up and I see the anger behind them. I feel really sick now.

“It’s probably nothing,” he snaps. There’s a short pause. “It’s probably nothing,” he says again this time calmer and apologetic. “I have many clients that can get a bit…obsessive. That’s probably all it is, but I promise to look into it for you.” He’s put up a mask but I don’t want to question him and turn it into something that it isn’t so I decide to file it for a later date.

“Okay,” I murmur. “What do you want to talk about today?” I try to change the subject. He stands and motions for me to move over to the chaise lounge across the room. I sit and slip off my cardigan, placing my bag on the floor to the side of me. He sits in the chair opposite me, placing a recording device on the table in the middle of us.

“Let’s start with talking about your childhood.” I feel really awkward and uncomfortable suddenly. Is it weird that he has seen my most intimate parts yet I feel so exposed when he is psycho analysing me?

“Okay.” My voice is soft and quiet. “I was born in America, but you already know that. My mom and dad met when my dad was touring the U.S.A after he graduated from college. Our house was amazing, it was nicely decorated and always smelled like a home should do, you know, fresh baked bread and flowers. I remember everything about it so clearly, like it was yesterday. My room was bright pink and had an amazing white four-post bed with nets hanging off of it. I had the ‘normal’ loving upbringing, well as normal as normal can be.

“My parents didn’t have much money but I never knew that, I always had everything I wanted. They didn’t have to pay much rent as it was my grandparent’s house and they rented from them cheaply. I was really close to my mom, she was wonderful, my hero and my role model.” I look up and notice Damon watching me, hanging on my every word. “I wanted to be just like her. Everything she did she did for my dad and me. She would sit and read to me every night, my bedroom was filled with books and when we had read everything she would make up stories until she could afford to buy a new book. I think that’s why it hit me so hard when she died, because it was so sudden and we were so close.” A lone tear slips down my face. Damon reaches for the box of tissues and passes me one. I blow my nose, before continuing.

“I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye and I didn’t get a chance to grieve. I felt I had to stay strong for my dad. He fell apart and it broke my heart watching this strong man turn to glass. My grandparent’s came back to the house to live for a while and eventually everything just carried on as usual. I went to school, came home, had tea, did my homework and went to bed. I didn’t go out with friends. I just stayed in my room. My father never talked to me about what happened. I knew of course, I have ears. I would hear Dad and my grandparent’s talking about it. I would sit at the top of the stairs just listening. I would also listen to my dad cry himself to sleep every night.” I’m surprised at how easy all this is coming out. He looks at me sympathetically, but not like the kids and their parents did at school when it first happened. It’s more like he feels my pain and knows it somehow. It’s then it hits me that I know very little about the man I have been having a relationship with.

“Can you continue?” he asks, flashing me that beautiful smile.

“Are you not going to ask me what happened to my mom?”

“Isabelle, you’re here to talk to me. I will never put pressure on you to tell me anything you don’t want to. I know that you will tell me in your own time and when you do I will be here to listen.” I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Thank you, I just don’t think I’m ready yet.” He just nods. “Please tell me about your childhood,” I plead. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“This isn’t meant to be about me, Isabelle.” I look down at my lap feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. He stands and walks over to the chaise lounge, sitting down next to me. “My mom died many years ago and I don’t know where my father is.” I look up at him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. Here am I waffling on, feeling sorry for myself when you have lost your mom too.” I feel terrible.

“It’s okay, I came to terms with it a long time ago. People learn to deal with their grief differently. I dealt with mine, now it’s time for you to deal with yours.” He puts his hand underneath my chin so my eyes look up into his. “I meant it when I said I wanted to fix you Izzy, I want you to be happy again like you were as a child.” He leans in and kisses me softly on the lips. It’s a delicate embrace full of passion. He pulls back and I continue.

“I didn’t feel safe for a long time afterwards. I started having strange dreams. They started about two months after she died. I would be in a dark room, it was pitch black and I couldn’t see a thing. I was petrified. The first time I started walking and then I just fell and I kept on falling until I woke up with a jolt. Then the dreams would get clearer.”

I take a deep breath. “When I finally got some light I could see why I kept falling. I was stuck on the top loop of a solid figure 8. You probably think I’m crazy right now?” I can see the confusion on his face as I describe my dream, I don’t wait for him to answer. “Anyway the older I got the clearer the dreams would get and the more frightened I would become. I became scared of heights because of it. But every time it was a number 8 like it is some sort of significance. However, no matter how much I think about it, the number means nothing to me.” I wipe my eyes with the tissue as the tears fall again. “I actually stopped getting them for a while. They started again the day I was in hospital. Then again yesterday I had one but it was different.” I pause remembering the feeling.