His Dark Secret - Part 1 (Erotic Romance Serial Novel) (10 page)

Again, he blinked, and started
cutting into his food. I felt like something had been hit. I could swear that
he was blushing.

“But this is too much talk about
work. You must be bored.”

“No I enjoy it. Reminds me of how
I felt when I used to paint.”

“That’s right, you studied art
history in college.”

Now it was my turn to blush. I
didn’t think that he would have remembered. He smirked, having one some small
victory over me.

“What did you like to paint?”

I was baffled by the question. Up
to this point, he had never really, honestly asked about me.

“Anything that I observed. I
specifically liked doing portraits, was good at them, but anything that got a
reaction from me. I always wanted to make people feel what I was feeling.”

He nodded.

“Have you kept up with it? Since
you graduated?”

I looked down at my plate. I
thought of the two years I spent putting everything into the farm in Elgin, my
time on the road working in diners and the like. Most nights I would come home
feeling like I was just getting ready to head back to work. I shook my head.

“No, things haven’t been settled
enough for that. I don’t have the same drive as you.”

Scott laughed, and I felt hurt
that he should mock me.

“That’s one of the things I like
about you. How much you haven’t realized about yourself.”

I was taken aback. We ate in
silence, the clink of silverware against our plates the only sound that filled
the apartment. When we both were full and settled, Scott nodded his head.

“I think it’s time for dessert.”

I was expectant to see what Scott
had whipped up for us. He got up, but instead of heading back into the kitchen,
he took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. The lights were on, the bed
simple and clean. In the middle of it was set a plate of strawberries and a
bowl of melted chocolate. Pleased with himself, Scott made to drag me to the
bed, but I stopped in my tracks. He turned, a questioning look. Before things
went further, I knew had to make a stand. I took in a deep breath, steeling
myself for what I was about to broach.

“Scott, are you going to record us
again?”

He looked as if I couldn’t have
asked him anything funnier.

“Of course.”

“Scott, I’m going to have to ask
you to not record us.”

His face went blank.

“I thought we already talked about
this.”

“We did. Or mainly, you did.
You’ve made a lot of demands of me, most of which I am more than willing to
give in to. Hell, I’m excited to. But the taping goes too far.”

He was about to respond, but I
stopped him.

“Let me finish. I understand that
this is something that you feel you need. You’ve told me you’re taking
precautions from another of them leaking. But the fact is, one has already.
Another mistake could be made. If people want to get them, they will find a
way. You may have your whole career to back you up, to give you the strength to
weather these scandals, but I don’t. I don’t have a suite on the top floor of
an expensive building. I don’t have a studio where I can produce my own work. I
have very little to call my own, and I want to keep it that way. I lost one job
thanks to this scandal; it won’t happen again. If you’re going to be with me,
get the privilege of having me, then you must give in to this demand.”

A series of emotions played across
his face, his mouth moving to find something to say. A look, not defeated, but
strained took a hold of his lips. Without a word he nodded. Turning to me, he
looked stark naked in his jeans and shirt. I wrapped my arms around his neck,
hugging tightly.

“Thank you.”

He brought a hand to the back of
my head, kissing me with intensity. My skin felt golden with the victory, and I
gave myself over to him.

After a few moments, he pulled
away, moving to the bed. He placed the plate and bowl on the side table and
leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Take off your clothes.”

I did as he said.
Self-consciously, I unbuttoned the front of my blouse, letting it fall to the
floor. Next I took off my shoes, one after the other, and tossed them to the
side. I reached behind to undo my bra, but he spoke up sharply.

“After the pants.”

These I slid down and threw over
to the shoes. Again I reached behind to undo my bra, but looked for his
approval first. He nodded. I undid it, revealing myself to him. I was quick to
remove my panties, finally fully naked in front of him. I was strongly aware of
the fact that this was the first time I’d been fully nude in front of him:
either I was in costume or he asked me to remain clothed. I felt uncomfortable
under that cold stare, feeling that it could only be judging the way that I
looked from the spacing of my eyes to the brown hair between my legs.
Automatically, my arms moved to cover my breasts and vagina.

“Hands at your sides”

When I had done so, he came
towards me, arms still crossed. I had the urge to throw my arms around him, but
he anticipated this.

“I want you to remain still.”

He circled around me, his eyes burning
brands into my skin. I felt my mouth dry and my skin began to prickle. I wanted
him to touch me, but he wasn’t, just walked around me, staring. It may have
been only a minute, but the seconds seemed to drag on and on. I wanted
something to happen, and finally broke. He was passing behind me again, and I
reached out with my left hand to touch his chest. With great force, he spanked
me across the backside, never breaking his stride.

“Did I say you could touch me?”

“No.”

Another spank.

“No what?”

“No, Scott.”

The third one landed in the same
spot, and I choked back a cry of pain.

“No what?” he repeated.

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

He passed in front again, having
produced a black handkerchief. This he slithered across the front of me, from
left hip, across my right breast, and passing over the shoulder. My whole body
shivered and I bit my lip. He had stopped now, hands on either side of my head,
the silk draped between my breasts. It felt smooth and cool.

“Do I have your permission to
blindfold you?”

It took everything in me to not
turn around and look at him.

“Yes,” it almost escaped me,
“sir.”

The blindfold was placed over my
eyes, and I was blind. His breath came hot against my neck as he whispered to
me.

“We need a safety word. Something
to stop all this if it becomes too much.”

“Like what, sir?”

“Something innocuous. Something we
can recognize that is removed from what we are doing.”

I thought a moment.

“Orange, sir.”

“Agreed.”

His warmth moved away from my neck
and I was cold in the void of sightlessness. I let out a squeal when it
returned, brushing the hairs of my hip. Next it appeared on my ribs, then a
moist kiss above my breast. It continued like this, breath, kisses, and even
nips interspersed in uneven periods of time, some longer, some shorter, each
action a surprise. I felt my body stirring, grow wet and heated for the feel of
his mouth against me. But each action, each contact left me yearning, wanting
more. I began to feel my breath labor in my chest. After a long absence of
touch, I felt his fingers seeking out the folds me, sliding my moisture across
my stomach.

“Ohhh,” I moaned.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes, sir. Very much, sir.”

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What else do you want?”

“I want you to take me, sir. I want
you to do me, sir.”

“Then come.”

His hand upon my shoulder, the
feel of the sheets against my skin had never before been more overpowering.
Silently, quickly, I was arranged, splayed across the bed. My hands and feet
were tied, soft cuffs pulling me open. I rested in a state of firm support,
close to the border of distress. I felt the bed sink with the weight of Scott
sitting down. Something cold and flat was placed on my stomach, which I almost
knocked over as I squirmed. A firm hand clutched my mouth.

“Stay still.”

Unable to speak, I nodded. As I
settled, I realized it was the plate of strawberries. The bowl of chocolate was
placed between my breasts, and I was warned that I would be punished if I
knocked either of them over.

Scott was lying next to me now. I
could feel the shift of his body as he changed positions. The cold touch of the
plate and bowl became as white noise, assuming the heat of my body. The rest of
me had returned into a state of anticipation, waiting, yearning for Scott to
command or touch it.

“Would you like a strawberry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much do you want the
strawberry?”

“A lot, sir.”

Looking back, I’m pretty sure I
would have been just as fine not eating the strawberries. But in that moment I
wanted them because Scott wanted me to have them. More importantly, he wanted
me to need them. Any other answer would have destroyed the fantasy, required a
correction, and I wanted to maintain it. I had a feeling of what was to come
next, but my imagination couldn’t pinpoint exactly how Scott would act on my
body; more than anything, I wanted his touch so I could know him.

The first one touched right where
my thigh and hip met, the seeds and skin rough as the moved to my belly button,
circled my nipples until they rose, then up to my mouth. I went to bite into
it, but it was gone, my teeth snapping into thin air. I squirmed in frustration
and was warned to keep still. Again, it touched my lips, and again I bit into
nothing. When, on the third try, I bit straight through the fruit, I was filled
with a childlike sense of victory. I had won this round, been rewarded with
sweet juice that dribbled from my mouth.

There was a shifting of weight,
the bowl and plate were removed into the void. The next one was covered, sticky
and clinging, and drew a line from my knee to my stomach. I could feel the
chocolate cooling, hardening onto my skin, not entirely pleasant. It must have
been re-dipped a number of times, because it would be removed, and fresh lines
of sweetness were drawn across me. When I felt I must be entirely covered, a
finger came to my mouth.

“From now on, lick before biting.”

My lips were smeared, and I licked
them clean, licked the berry clean, and even sucked it. But it was pulled away
before I could bite into it.

More shifting of the bed, longer
moments where I was left untouched and sticky.

Another was finally at my mouth,
and I was quick to begin. The taste this time, was different, the berry
sweetness replaced by a slightly salty tang. Understanding, I laughed taking
Scott’s cock swelling into my mouth. From tip to base I licked it clean,
feeling him quiver and swell as my tongue flicked over him. When I had
finished, once every spot was gone he spoke.

“Well look at this, you’ve gone
ahead and cleaned me up so nicely, but what a mess you are. How did you get
this way?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“I think you do.”

I grinned.

“You’re right, sir.”

“Well, I’ll just have to clean you
up.”

And he did, starting with my lips
all the way down to my feet he licked me. It was slow, sensual work, but he
spent no time in any one spot. I wanted to ask him to bite my nipples, and
already he was moving on. I shook for a second as probed into the folds of me,
a quick lick across my clitoris, but again he moved on before I could even
begin to take pleasure in it. In the end, I lay there, his saliva cooling on my
skin. I was inflamed, panting. I only wanted to be touched, caressed the way I
wanted, but he just continued to tease me. Tied as I was, I couldn’t even
pleasure myself, whether with my hands or by shifting my legs. I could only be
pleasured if Scott wished it. He’d set the whole experience in the bedroom to
lead to this moment. All of my breath was released in a deep moan of want.