Illicit Craving (Bend To My Will #5) (6 page)

When he relaxed, Vivienne pulled back, letting his cock pop out of her mouth, before she looked up at him. Her expression was a plea for approval, as if fearing she might not have done it right, or might be in trouble.

Jacob wasn’t sure where her fantasy ended and his began.

He grabbed the belt, and with her hands behind her back, he wrapped it tightly around her wrists. Jacob hoisted her onto a stool in front of a mirror. Standing in front of Vivienne, he could look into the mirror and see her hands bound with the leather belt, the sight of the binding sending heat through his veins. Hastily, he shed his clothes, including the watch.

“Spread your legs…wide,” Jacob said, and Vivienne did so, with respect in her eyes. That was as it should be, since bound and naked he could do with her as he liked. And it might not be pleasant, considering that pain was a part of heated sex play.

Standing in front of her, Jacob plunged two fingers into her wet pussy. “Jesus.” He stroked inside her. “You’re so wet.” He found the spot on her inner wall, and made a come-hither motion with his fingers, watching her eyes half close. He rubbed just so, teasing her, with no thought of allowing her to release.

Bending down, Jacob licked her creamy breasts, then repeatedly bit her distended nipples until they were bright red. He held one in his teeth, tugging on it. Vivienne panted and moaned. “Tell me what you want, Vivienne.”

“More,” she gasped. “More, sir.”

Using his thumb, Jacob massaged her clit while keeping his fingers inside her. He sucked at her nipples, hard enough to make them ache. He knew she was close, but just before Vivienne could come, he stepped back, relishing her agony.

Vivienne whimpered. He looked at her, bound before him, with her legs spread. The sight of her vulnerability spiraled his arousal to an explosive level. In a deep voice, he commanded her: “Beg me.”

“Sir, please.”

“Please what?” Jacob snapped out the question, while glaring at her.

“Touch me, sir. Don’t stop…please.”

A combination of tranquility and incredible focus filled Jacob. The sense of control produced exhilaration, the feeling he sought but was often elusive. Not so now.

“Beg me again.” Jacob stared, high on her submission. “And this time…
mean it
.”

“I want you to make me come, sir…please. It hurts. I can’t…” Vivienne’s voice drifted off.

“What, Vivienne? You can’t what?” Jacob looked down at her, keeping his expression harsh and unemotional. She needed to come up with the right answer.

Vivienne’s green eyes were glazed with need. “I can’t endure not having your touch.”

Her admission gave Jacob a rush. He looked down at Vivienne, her innocence, her beauty. She was at his mercy, powerless to resist him, and wanted only to be savagely dominated. His confidence surged, and the thrill made him feel a little amplified, like he was outside himself.

Jacob moved closer, to kneel in front of her with his palms on her inner thighs. Vivienne quivered under his touch, and he sensed her fear combined with excitement. With his mouth so close his breath caressed her nipples, he waited, savoring the moment and wanting to feel her torment. Then he flicked her nipples with his tongue before bending lower.

The sight of Vivienne’s pink pussy made his cock swell. Jacob tasted her sweet cream and raked his tongue along her wet opening. He pressed his lips over her clit, feeling her tremble, which was rewarding. He swirled his tongue around her most sensitive area, until she moaned, then he nipped at her clit with his teeth.

Vivienne cried out, shattering under his ministrations. Waves of orgasm crashed through her, and her body violently shook as she released. Her breathing was heavy and her pulsating sex vibrated against his lips. God, she was hot, which made Jacob insanely crazed for her.

When Vivienne slumped forward, Jacob undid the belt to free her wrists, and carried her to a padded table. He wasn’t done with her, not nearly. Placing her on her back, Jacob spread her legs wide and touched his plum-shaped knob to her wet tissues. His cock throbbed and his balls ached, but he had something else in mind.

Using the leather straps at the sides of the long table, Jacob tied her down with her arms overhead. Vivienne still flushed from her orgasm, looked at him questioningly, but wisely, didn’t ask. He yanked her feet wide and cuffed them to the sides.

Vivienne writhed against the padded covering.

“Be still,” Jacob said. “If I want you to move, I’ll tell you.” He gazed at her, secured to the table. “Give me an excuse, and I’ll undo these straps and whip you with the belt.”

Vivienne’s eyes were big.

“Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

She wanted it rough. Jacob would give her that. Yet he had long since ceased to follow her detailed scene, the one she’d described. Ferocious need engulfed him, the urge demanding to be fed. With his vision a bit fuzzy from the intensity of play, and feeling as though he was moving through a cloud, Jacob proceeded.

He withdrew a metal implement from a drawer and held it by the handle. It was a wheel with teeth, not sharp enough to cut, but enough to create the sensation of pain. Vivienne’s skin looked so soft, her nude figure so feminine. Jacob used one finger to spin the wheel, and show her how it worked.

Then he stood over Vivienne. “This will hurt, but not badly. I want to see how you tolerate pain. I crave seeing the look in your eyes when you feel this on your skin, and fear its cut. Although I assure you there will be no permanent injury.”

Jacob leaned over and licked Vivienne’s nipples, and she shuddered. “You will submit to me.” His voice boomed in the small room. “Won’t you?”

Vivienne’s hesitation told him that the sight of the implement had its effect. “Yes…sir.”

Slowly at first, Jacob rolled the sharp teeth over the skin of her underarms, down her ribs, and along her legs. Vivienne’s eyes partially closed, and she clenched her jaw. “Don’t tense,” he said. “It will be worse.”

Methodically, Jacob traced her skin with the wheel. The tiny teeth made a path over her belly and down her inner thighs. He saw Vivienne tremble. She was at his mercy, and although he was sure she could withstand the discomfort, sensing that he edged her toward pain was a thrill.

Jacob watched Vivienne’s eyes glisten as he rolled the implement over her creamy breasts and under her jaw. She couldn’t know where he would touch next, or how hard he would administrate the metal wheel. There was a threat, a sense of fear, just what she’d said she wanted. And what he wanted to give her.

Jacob desired it too. Seeing the trepidation in her eyes, and knowing he was the cause, was a source of pride. Jacob could guide her to new limits, show her that pain added to the thrill. He could teach her how to tolerate the pain, absorb it, and let it enhance the experience.

Rolling the wheel over her bare vulva, Jacob watched her reaction carefully. Vivienne’s breathing was ragged, and she looked at him as if not seeing. Then he rolled the wheel lower, just at the top of her thighs near her sex, and she shivered.

With her thighs held apart, Vivienne’s pussy was open to him. This was not Jacob’s first experience with the wheel. He knew what he could do, and what he couldn’t. The pull to guide Vivienne as far into pain as she was willing tempted him, and his usual refinement seemed to dissipate, the lure powerful.

Without warning, Jacob rolled the wheel up her ribs and across her nipples, making her whimper. But he didn’t tell her to be silent, rather liking the sound of her torment. Then he rolled the wheel between her breasts, the metal teeth making tiny indentations on her skin as he descended to her sex.

There Jacob waited, but only for a second. He rolled the wheel along her inner thigh and directly back up, toward her wet tissues, intending to caress her outer lips with its metal teeth. An inch before his hand reached the intended spot, he was startled away from his task when he heard the safe word.

Vivienne yelled out: “Away…away!”

Without hesitation, Jacob stopped and threw the wheel aside. He ended play abruptly, and undid the bindings as quickly as he could. Vivienne’s desperate plea was the signal that he had pushed too close to her limits, and the scene was immediately halted. Yet Jacob’s heart pounded; he feared Vivienne’s mental state, and felt sick inside over the mistake he’d made. In the throes of his erotic haze, Jacob had nearly gone too far.

Chapter 7

Vivienne didn’t know what she felt, but had managed to find her voice and say her safe word. As soon as she said
away
, Jacob had ceased all play. When he carried her from the table, relief swept through her, as if a burden had been lifted.

She was grateful that Jacob didn’t demand an explanation, but seemed to understand. Tears filled Vivienne’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks, yet she was not sad. Exhilaration filled her, followed by a variety of emotions. She laughed for no reason, as if she were of unstable mind. If Jacob abandoned her, she wouldn’t be able to tolerate it.

With her head in the crook of his neck, Vivienne sagged against him, needing his strength. In silence, he cradled her in his lap, and she closed her eyes, vaguely aware that her pulse rate was high. It seemed that even while she was at rest, her heart might beat out of her chest.

Jacob stroked her hair, tenderly, as if he knew what had happened. Vivienne was in a mental fog, and she clung to him, waiting for the volatility of her emotions to pass. Her overly emotional state was more than she could deal with alone.

After a while, Jacob carried her to the bathroom and ran a hot bath. Too weak to resist and too emotionally wiped out, Vivienne let him tend to her. When the water was ready, he lowered her into it, letting the bubbles rise up to her neck. Then Jacob got in too, and held her in his lap again. The feel of his strength was an anchor in her spinning world.

The warm water seeped into her, and Vivienne calmed, leaning into Jacob. She thought of splashing her feet in the fragrant bubbles, but couldn’t move a muscle. Flashes of the playroom came back to her. Earlier she had shared her imaginings with Jacob, something that excited her, and that they could potentially act out. Jacob dominated her in sex play, but she wondered what it would be like if he was rougher. The idea had been tempting, so she had decided to try.

Jacob had moved through the scene, just as Vivienne had described it: the rolled-up shirtsleeves, the masculine watch, the belt. She shuddered to think of it. The acting out of her vision had been hot, even electrifying, and satisfied her urge for rough play, a scene she was compelled to attempt.

That was the advantage of the playroom. Jacob could do the things she wanted, deep inside, but hadn’t known or admitted. Vivienne was more in touch with her sexual inclinations, her
orientation
, as Jacob called it. The interlude, including his hands around her neck, had been titillating. It was as she’d imagined.

But somewhere during play, the tone shifted, which had been exciting at first. Jacob had been intimidating, which Vivienne discovered turned her on. Binding her wrists, commanding her, and the rest matched her need. That hadn’t surprised her, considering what they’d shared so far.

Yet Jacob hadn’t stopped there. He had sensed that Vivienne was prepared to reach for new limits, greater challenges, and, thus, deeper satisfaction. She had defaulted, giving him the power and craving submission. The more he had edged her toward pain, asked her to give in and to let him do as he wished, the more Vivienne had done so…willingly.

When Jacob shifted in the bath, the water sloshed and bubbles touched Vivienne’s chin, reminding her of the present. Yet reality had no context for her. What she had felt yesterday, even that morning, was so different from what she felt right now.

If Vivienne could have articulated her feelings, she would have. But there was no way to comprehend where the scene had gone awry. She had spiraled into vivid physical pleasure, laced with pain. It had been new, sharp, and her senses more acute.

She recalled breathing and trying not to tense up, as Jacob had suggested. The prick of pain and the tinge of fear that what he was doing might hurt worse had swept her away. Vivienne had wanted him to guide her, to show her the depth of what was possible.

The longer Jacob had wheeled the sharp teeth over her skin, the more Vivienne had craved it. He had been her master, and she endured the threat, tempted by the allure of greater pleasure. Now in her mental fog, leaning against Jacob in the tub, she struggled to wrap her wits around what had happened, but she couldn’t.

Vivienne felt the urge to talk to Jacob, to tell him what had overpowered her. And she would, if only she knew. When the bath water finally cooled, Jacob lifted her out of the tub, dried her off, and dressed her. Like a rag doll, she let him care for her.

Still floating, unable to reconnect with her surroundings, Vivienne accepted the glass of water he offered her and drank it down. She ate the soup as well, without tasting it. Her body was numb, as though the powerful sensations had been too much, and her nerves had short-circuited.

Wildly, Vivienne thought of pounding her fist on the table, kicking her chair away, or jumping up and down. There was no reason for any of it, because she wasn’t angry. It was more about needing affirmation that she was alive and breathing. But she was unable to achieve anything more dramatic than absently spooning soup into her mouth.

Jacob appeared filmy to her, lacking substance. His messy hair and cotton shirt were fuzzy around the edges, making Vivienne unable to clearly discern his form. Yet she perceived that he was melancholy, and his expression was serious, which unsettled her. After eating what little she could, he carried her toward the stairs. Her last perception was of Jacob climbing the marble staircase one step at a time. She found the rhythm soothing.

*****

Vivienne stirred. The bed was warm, but the room was dark. At first, she didn’t know what time it was, or where she was. The weight of the covers felt oppressive, and her head ached in a strange way. Then it came back to her…
Jacob
.

Loneliness swept over Vivienne with palpable force, and she reached across the bed. When she found it empty, heartbreak burgeoned. She was alone, in
her
room at the penthouse. Had Jacob slept with her? Or had he left her by herself, and reverted to occupying separate rooms?

Whipping back the covers, Vivienne leapt from her bed. She didn’t know where Jacob was, or how he was, causing panic to surge. Quickly, she went to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, and made herself presentable, barely. Then she dressed in jeans and a blouse before making her way downstairs.

Anxious about what she might find, Vivienne approached the main room with caution. When she saw no sign of Jacob, she progressed to the dining room. There she found him, staring out the window. He didn’t turn to look at her. The shadow that clouded his handsome face was alarming.

Vivienne couldn’t breathe. “Good morning, Jacob.” She tried to sound as normal as possible.

“Good morning, Vivienne,” he said, without turning to face her.

Jacob’s coldness made her timid to approach him, but she did anyway. When she stood next to him, hoping he would pull her onto his lap, he finally looked up. But instead of opening his arms, he motioned for her to sit next to him.

Vivienne slumped into the chair, at a loss. She knew Jacob had issues, but she hadn’t seen him like this before. “Are you okay?”

Without a smile, Jacob looked into her eyes. “That’s what I should be asking you.”

“Are you asking me?” Vivienne kept her voice light, hoping to change the mood.

“I don’t have to ask,” Jacob said. “I took care of you last night.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that.”

“No, Vivienne, don’t be sorry,” Jacob said. “That was as it should be. It is my duty to care for you after a particularly intense scene.”

“I’m better now.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” Jacob’s blue eyes were dark, and his tone gloomy. “But I think last night demonstrated what I’ve tried to tell you before.”

Fear cut through her like a knife. Vivienne dreaded what he was about to say. “What, Jacob? I think you are overly concerned about me.”

“No, that’s just it, Vivienne. I haven’t been concerned enough,” Jacob said. “I’ve indulged my cravings, and given in to urges that are better left untapped.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do, Vivienne. You just don’t want to.” Jacob’s body was rigid, his eyes like steel. “I’m not safe to be around.”

“That’s crazy,” Vivienne said. “It was a scene we played out. It was…” She floundered, unable to think of what would persuade him.

“That’s not all it was,” Jacob said. “It should have been. But there are things inside me you shouldn’t see, and that I don’t want you to experience.”

Vivienne’s heart fell. He couldn’t mean what she thought he did.

“I can protect you from many things,” Jacob said. “But I cannot protect you from me, not as long as we continue the way we are.”

Stunned, Vivienne just stared at him. This couldn’t be happening.

“It’s not safe to be around me,” Jacob said, then paused. He gripped his knees, as if forcing himself not to touch her. “You better go,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “I’ll have Ian drive you home.”

Vivienne felt ill. Her world crashed around her, and it was as though an iron fist gripped her heart. Tears filled her eyes and her throat locked up. If there was anything that would make him change his mind, Vivienne didn’t know what that was.

Jacob was unapproachable. He looked away from her, his body tense. It was as though there was an unseen barrier between them, an invisible wall that Vivienne couldn’t break through. She stood up and fled the room.

Reaching the front door, she yanked it open and, blinded by tears, stabbed at the elevator button. It opened immediately, and Ian stood there, waiting for her. She realized that he’d already been coming up to get her. Jacob had assumed he’d won, that she wouldn’t be able to change his mind. A chill ran through her. She knew he was right.

There was no way to get through to Jacob now that he’d made his decision. By protecting her, in his own way, Jacob had now relegated her to a personal hell. Whether he was a danger to her or not, Vivienne could not live without him. That was the one thing she was certain of.

How could he not see that? Vivienne followed Ian to the car, but the driver didn’t say a word. He merely opened the door for her and closed it behind her. Covering her face with her hands, Vivienne cried in earnest. She didn’t care what Ian thought, or what anyone thought.

Jacob had sent her away, and the magnitude of the devastation engulfed her. The chasm between them couldn’t be crossed. The man Vivienne loved had slipped through her fingers. She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t seen it coming, but she should have.

When Ian pulled up to her place, Vivienne didn’t feel any better. If anything, she felt worse. The building loomed, like a cavern that would swallow her up. Ian opened her door and walked her to the lobby. “Are you going to be okay?” he said.

Vivienne nodded. It was a lie. She wasn’t okay, and she wasn’t going to be okay. Thankfully, she wasn’t familiar with the doorman on duty; maybe he was new. It was a small reprieve that she didn’t have to face Jason in her current state, not prepared to explain to anyone what had happened.

Vivienne unlocked her apartment door and went inside, standing still in the quiet interior. What was there to do? Who could she turn to? Lana was out of town, and calling her while she was with Trace was out of the question.

The apartment was small, claustrophobic, so Vivienne went to the window. She looked out at the city, observing that the people below looked like insects scurrying along the sidewalks. The sunny day was depressing, holding joy that she could not be a part of.

The loss of Jacob ripped her apart, and the tears wouldn’t stop. Out of the corner of her eye, Vivienne glimpsed the heavy book where she’d pressed the flower from the bouquet that Jacob had given her. She opened it, holding the dried bloom in her palm. If only she could go back to that first date, maybe she could change how things had turned out.

But Vivienne couldn’t alter life’s course. She had lost Jacob, which seemed so final. With a sweep of her arm, she brushed the heavy book off the shelf. It thudded on the floor, landing open with its pages askew, the binding at an odd angle. The flower slipped from her hand and drifted to the floor, landing beside the book.

It was all too much. Vivienne had to get away, so she grabbed her purse and left. Once out on the sidewalk, she thought about where to go. It was Saturday morning, an odd time to drink, but there had to be someplace open.

Desperate, Vivienne walked faster, then remembered a restaurant that served brunch on both days of the weekend. It was doubtful that she would eat anytime soon, if at all. But she could drink the champagne, or something stronger if it was available.

Spotting the hotel, she hurried toward it. There was no way to wipe out the pain in her heart, but Vivienne could numb it. She strode up to the greeter at the podium, and was swiftly seated at a table adjacent to the dessert station. That was fine with her, as long as alcohol was served.

The waiter took her order, and promptly returned with a Manhattan. “Whenever you’re ready, miss, you can help yourself to the buffet.”

Vivienne ignored him and gulped her drink. It was sweet but burned as it went down. She hoped it scalded her throat, causing pain worse than the one inside her. Any distraction was welcome, and, barring that, another cocktail would be in order.