MasterofVelvet (2 page)

Feeling badgered by the reminder popping up on her computer
screen, Beth quickly scribbled down the few lines her imagination had just come
up with—and in the rush not to be late meeting her friend, forgot to slip the
notebook into her desk drawer.

* * * * *

A few minutes later Adam emerged from his office, a brief
frown marring his brow at his assistant’s unexpected absence. A glance at the
wall clock told him that she was probably downstairs at the coffee shop, buying
her usual salad lunch and a skinny latte with sugar-free vanilla syrup. As a
devotee of the double espresso, he wondered briefly how she could stomach such
a concoction—not that that was relevant. Perhaps the contract he wanted was on
her desk.

His eyes swept over the neatly set-out documents she was
dealing with, taking in the hastily written note that seemed to indicate an
assignation for lunch when they stopped abruptly at the small, brightly colored
notebook.

He’d seen her scribbling in it during her lunch hour on
several occasions but she’d always slipped it into her desk drawer as he
approached, with a grace and economy of movement that the Dom in him admired.
Without a qualm he flipped it open.

He recognized the precise cursive script instantly,
feminine, eminently legible, and executed with a fountain pen. He liked that—so
few people used fountain pens these days. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the
lines and it didn’t take long for what she’d written to send the blood surging
to his dick. What in the name of heaven…?

Uptight, straitlaced Miss Harrison was describing, in
elegant detail, a scene that could have come straight from the club where he
fully intended to drink away most of the forthcoming evening.

And judging by the description of the sub who was being
disciplined so deliciously, Miss Harrison was painting herself in that role.

There was more—disjointed snippets of prose, descriptions
and conversations that looked like they belonged in a somewhat larger work, a
short story or perhaps even a novel. Either way, she wrote beautifully and he
didn’t just mean her refined handwriting. She wrote about the act of submission
as the truly exquisite gift that it was.

She wasn’t a collared sub, of that much Adam was certain.
She wore no jewelry of any kind that might indicate ownership. His instincts
told him that she was untrained, possibly even only just beginning to explore
that side of her sexuality, undecided as to whether it was for her or not.
Whether she needed it or not.

Adam found the document he wanted and returned to his office.
His mind, however, was far from being on work. It was on Beth, her writing and
what lay beneath.

She let precious little of the non-work Beth out of the bag.
Professional in the office, not given to socializing with her colleagues beyond
attending the office Christmas party, she maintained an almost aloof distance—but
just occasionally she’d slip up and reveal a very sharp sense of humor. There
was no doubt that she was intelligent,.

He wondered how she spent her evenings and weekends.

Having left the door to his office ajar, he knew exactly
when she arrived back, looking relaxed and happy after lunch with her friend—female,
he hoped, because no other man was going to lay a finger on her.

The fierce sense of possession in the thought startled him—not
his normal reaction to a woman he wanted. That kind of thought lived solely in
his head but with Beth it was visceral, something primitive in his gut that
screamed she was his.

He continued to watch her moving around the outer office,
admiring her grace and efficiency. He imagined slowly removing her clothing until
all she wore were the heels and stockings—her legs were made for them and
they’d draw attention to a pussy he would order her to keep smooth.

The thought of teaching her what D/s was really all about
energized him in a way the scene hadn’t for quite some time. This woman
belonged in his playroom—and in his bed.

Sideswiped by the thought, he realized that he was thinking
of Beth—and had been for some time—in a context he’d never explored before,
that of being involved in a full emotional, physical relationship with a sub
wearing his collar.

In the past, he’d trained subs and collared them to show
that they were under his protection while in training but he’d never had a committed
relationship with them. He’d also had physically intimate relationships with
other subs but without feeling any need or inclination to give them a collar or
even to take them to his bed at his house in the country.

With Beth, though, he wanted his collar round her pretty
neck and her sweet body warming his bed, both at the apartment and back at the
house.

The remainder of the afternoon passed well enough—apart from
the fact that by four o’clock, it was getting really difficult for Adam to
conceal the hard-on he was getting every time Beth came into his office. Or
more to the point, when she left it, he found himself lusting after that
gorgeous, curvaceous rear as it swayed out of the room, anticipating which
implements he would use to bring a rosy hue to her skin.

The end of his day brought a particularly tense
teleconference that Adam was glad to see the end of. He sat back in the
executive chair, closing his eyes to try to relieve the tension that was
building in his temples. Ever since the explosion that had left its mark on his
back fifteen years earlier, he’d been prone to getting these headaches. Still,
it was well after five-thirty—the office would be silent and empty when he left
to make his way to the club.

“Mr. Granger, is there anything you need before I go?”

You. On your knees, between my legs, and hold my cock in
your lovely mouth. Don’t suck—if you do your beautiful backside will get
twenty.

He pushed aside the errant thought. “Thanks, Beth—you go and
enjoy your weekend.”

Uncharacteristically, he missed the fact that she didn’t say
goodbye. What he didn’t miss was the cool fingers suddenly massaging his
temples.
Dear God, don’t let this be a dream.

“Keep your eyes closed,” came her soft voice. “Is there any
medication you take for these?”

He shook his head briefly, unwilling to shatter the moment
by speaking. Her touch was gentle but insistent and it was all he could do not
to let out a moan of pure pleasure when she started to give him a head massage.

Silence stretched out and time stopped. The universe held
its breath. She was wearing his collar and those wonderful fuck-me heels and he
was going to show her what a gloriously sexual animal she was.

“I hope your head’s starting to feel better, Mr. Granger.”

Her voice came from somewhere in the direction of the door,
drawing him out of the sensual fantasy playing in his mind. He opened his eyes
and saw her standing there, jacket on, bag at her feet and knew that if he was
taking her back to the apartment tonight, she’d get well and truly fucked
whether his headache had gone or not.

“It is.” How was his voice so steady? “Thank you, Beth—you
have a healing touch.”

She glanced briefly toward the floor, clearly embarrassed by
the compliment. He’d have to do something about that during the course of her
training. Lowering her gaze like that as part of her submission was one thing—being
embarrassed by compliments, especially from him, was something he would not
permit.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Granger. I’m sorry but I have to go now—my
bus is due.”

What on earth had come over her?

Beth felt her face flame with color as she waited for the elevator.
Having fantasies about the man was one thing but actually touching him like
that when he was vulnerable, was about the worst idea she’d ever had, and she’d
had some doozies in her time. Wasn’t she the one who was determined to remain
at more than arm’s length? Thank God she wouldn’t have to face him tomorrow.

Three years of wanting had finally caught up with her. She’d
seen him every working day in that time, witnessed the number of women who had
passed through his life and nothing had diminished what she felt for him.

She sighed unhappily, wondering what he would be doing
tonight and who he might be doing it with. He may not have dated for six months
but the drought could end at any time.

The journey home seemed to take longer than usual. When she
finally arrived there, she closed the door of the one-bedroom flat behind her
and made a beeline for the shower. It was only when she was standing under the
hot, soothing cascade that she gave in to the mortified tears of embarrassment
that had been threatening ever since she left the office.

It had felt so good to finally touch him, when she gave in
to that stupid impulse to ease away his headache. She’d seen him with them
before and her tender heart had ached through not being able to do anything to
help. Today she could bear it no longer and had rushed in where angels would
fear to tread.

When she had no more tears left to cry, she emerged from the
shower. Drying herself quickly, she wrapped a towel round her sodden hair and
pulled on her soft, fleecy dressing gown. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight—no
change there, then— so she poured herself a glass of wine, switched on the TV
and channel-surfed, trying to find something half-decent to watch, which would
take her mind off the fact that another lonely weekend stretched ahead of her.

Her mind, though, had other ideas. It kept tantalizing her with
memories of the way his skin felt, the heady, masculine scent of him…and
fantasies of what it would be like to be the woman who shared his bed.

* * * * *

A couple of hours after he left the office, Adam was
propping up the bar at Club Apollo, slowly sipping his way through his third
Scotch of the evening.

He was dressed in black leather and boots, the flowing white
shirt unbuttoned from top to bottom—not a typical item of clothing for a Dom,
but Adam had his reasons. He had no interest in acting out a scene tonight,
hence the whiskey, but he did have a lot to think about.

Dan on the other hand was indulging in a scene in one of the
private rooms with one of the unattached subs. Adam hadn’t seen him since he
arrived but had been told that Dan had taken one of the subs for a little
bondage and discipline.

He looked around the club. It was busy tonight—the place was
thronged with people in various states of dress and undress, milling around the
lounge, bar and public rooms. The private rooms were fully booked too.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a Dom he didn’t
know leading his sub around on a leash. The sub was collared, naked and
barefoot. If he brought Beth here she’d be dressed, albeit provocatively. She’d
be here to be shown off, not shared—in any way.

Adam sighed. Making Beth aware of his personal interest in
her was a risk but it was one he was prepared to take. After all, wasn’t his
old regiment’s motto, “Who dares, wins”?

“Well?”

Dan’s voice drew him back to the present from thoughts of a
possible future. The sub his friend had been with was joined by a couple of her
giggling friends and was clearly very satisfied by the time spent with Sir
Daniel, if the pink glow of her backside was anything to go by.

“Well what?” Adam feigned more interest in his glass of
Scotch than was strictly warranted.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about Beth?”

“How did you know I was thinking about her?”

Dan sighed and rolled his eyes. “How long have we known each
other? Exactly. It’s in your face, Adam. And I hope that,” he glanced in the
direction of Adam’s drink, “means you’ve already played?”

Adam shook his head. “Dan, something happened today and I
need to work out the best way to take things forward.”

His friend took a step back, eyebrows raised. “Now you’re
intriguing me. Is this to do with Beth?”

Adam nodded. The amber fluid in the glass he held reminded
him of the highlights in Beth’s hair.

“Wanna talk?”

The darker of the two men raised an amused eyebrow—Dan,
getting all touchy-feely? No wonder he was looking in the opposite direction,
as if pretending that someone else had uttered the two words. “Shut the fuck
up, Dan,” he said without a hint of animosity. “I’ll deal with it.”

“So are you going to train her or fire her?” The blond man’s
voice was deadly serious and so was Adam’s when he responded.

“I’m going to do the only thing I can to resolve this.”

* * * * *

It was gone two in the morning when Adam returned to his
apartment. He’d left Dan at the club enjoying yet another scene with another
willing sub. He went straight to the bedroom, shed his clothes and headed for
the shower.

The hot water felt good hammering down on his tired body. It
had been a long day. He’d been in the office earlier than usual for the
conference call with Japan, spent another day around the woman who gave him a
hard-on just by breathing and found out that there was a chance that she was a
sub-in-waiting. More than enough for one day.

Dry now, he padded back into the dark bedroom to look out
over the city from his refuge on one of the upper floors of the exclusive
block. She was out there, somewhere in all those twinkling lights. He wondered
what she was doing. Sleeping, probably. If she’d been in his bed sleeping was
the last thing she’d be doing.

He put a hand around his painfully hard erection and began
to masturbate, the other hand on the wall braced for support. This had been his
only release for the last six months and it looked like tonight was going to be
no different.

Then his hand stilled. Were the mechanics of a physical
orgasm going to do it for him this time?

Adam found himself thinking back to the time when he’d
discovered that he was a natural Dominant. He and Dan had been in the States on
a training mission with their U.S. counterparts and while on a forty-eight-hour
leave, they’d discovered the club that had changed their lives. Gone were their
preconceptions of BDSM being all about kinky sex—it didn’t even have to include
sex at all, yet it could also be a whole lifestyle.