The Ivy Lessons (31 page)

Read The Ivy Lessons Online

Authors: J Lerman

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

BOOK: The Ivy Lessons
3.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘I think so,
’ I say. ‘Yes. I do. I do trust you.’

‘Good.’
Marc
gives a satisfied smile. ‘Because I know exactly what you’d like right now. You’d like to be spanked.’

Chapter
65

‘I would?’

‘Oh yes,’ says
Marc
, leading me towards one of the rooms. ‘You’d like to be tied up and spanked until
you cry out. I knew it as soon as I had you in the stationary cupboard
.
You want more. You want to be totally dominated and taken charge of.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Trust me, Sophia,’
Marc
whispers, opening a door. Inside I see
a round bed
right in the centre of the room. It has no headboard, just white sheets, but I notice hoops screwed at even points around the base of the bed.

A length of rope lies
on the sheets. There’s a paddle
next to the rope, and
Marc
slaps it against his palm
.

‘You couldn’t take your eyes off
this little device,
when we were watching that movie
,’ he says. ‘But I have lots more. Paddles. Studded paddles. Floggers.’

‘That all sounds a bit -’

‘Be quiet,’
Marc
orders. ‘Take off your clothes and get on the bed.’

I do, seeing birds fly over the ocean
, through the
panoramic window.

‘Turn over,’ he says, coming behind me and tying my wrists to the hoops on the headboard.

Marc
takes off his clothes. They fall in a soft heap on the floor.

Now I’m trapped. Vulnerable. He can do whatever he wants to me.

I see him prowl arou
nd the bed. He picks up the paddle again
.

‘You’d like to be spanked, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I say.

‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Very good.’

He brings the paddle down hard on my butt
ocks.
‘You haven’t been doing what you’re told.’ He spanks me again, twice. I cry out.
‘You’ll stay here until I’m finished with you.’

I see his taut backside saunter out of the bedroom, and hear champagne being poured. He comes back into the room with a ful
l glass and the champagne bottle, and rests the bottle on the bedside table
.

‘Spread your legs for me,’ he says, resting his cham
pagne glass on my buttocks
. ‘Now.’

I spread my legs.

He picks
up
the champagne bottle, setting the glass down in its place
.
Then h
e pushes the cold glass of the champagne bottle between my thighs.

‘Wider,’ he says.

I spread my leg
s as wide as I can, feeling
hot and breathless.

He slips the top of the champagne bottle inside me, and turns the cool glass.

‘Ooh
,’ I moan
, as he pushes it deeper
.

Then h
e tosses the champagne bottle to one sid
e, and goes to the cabinet
.
H
e pulls out a thin, silver vibrator.

‘I’m g
oing to slip this
inside your backside
, and if you make the tiniest noise I’m going to spank you again.’

‘Okay,’ I murmur, squirming a little at the thought.

He comes behind m
e and lays a hand on my buttocks
, whilst
he works the vibrator inside
me.

I bite my lip, trying to keep quiet like he wants, but when he turns on the vibrations I start to moan.

He picks up the paddle and spanks me
five times, and I moan even louder
.

‘Please
Marc
,’
I say
, as the vibrations make me feel fuller and fuller.

Marc
spanks me again, harder this time, and I feel so desperate for him that I don’t think I can take it. ‘Please fuck me,’ I beg, as spanking sounds ring out around the room.

Marc
walks around to the front of the bed, and I see his huge erection in front of my face.

‘Put this in your mouth,’ he says, taking my chin.
He slides himself
in my mouth and moves his hips back and forth, going further and further inside.

‘Oh yes.’ He leans his head back and closes his eyes,
his hands either side of my face
. Then he stops abruptly and walks around behind me again. He climbs
on top of me and slides himself between my legs
. I feel the vibrator go further up my backside, as
Marc
moves back and forth, harder and harder.

I’m desperate to move my hand down, to touch myself, but I can’t move.

‘Untie me,’ I beg. ‘Please.’

But
Marc
just moves
harder
against me
. ‘Trust me,’ he says, going furthe
r and further inside. A
warm feeling is building up, and I’m so desperate to touch myself that I struggle against the ropes.

Suddenly
Marc
lies on top of me, pressing me into the bed, rubbing me against the sheets as he moves.

I moan as I come, feeling the ropes bite at my wrists.

Marc
softly unties the ropes and flips me over, pulling out the vibrator.
Then he slides himself in me again, and moves slowly, staring right into my eyes.

‘I want to
come in you,’ he says.

But I can’t. I just can’t lose control again.

I nod, moving stray hair from his eyes.

He falls forward, pulling me into his arms. We lay like that until morning.

 

Chapter
66

I wake in the morning, and find the space beside me empty. I sit up,
looking through the
panoramic window at the tropical paradise outside. It’s beautiful. I can feel the warmth of the sun through the windows, even though the air-conditioning has chilled the air.

I dress and go downstairs, finding Marc in the gym room, pounding a punch bag. He looks furious – ready to kill someone – and I’d feel sorry for anyone who took the place of that punch bag.

He never wavers, never stops to lean against the bag and get his breath back. He just punches and punches, his back straight and face determined. His grey t-shirt and sweatpants are drenched in sweat.

Eventually he stops, and grabs the bag to stop it from swinging. He throws off his boxing gloves, and wipes his face with a towel.

‘Sophia.’ He notices me in the doorway. ‘You’re up early.’

‘I told you,’ I say with a smile. ‘I always am. And I could say the same thing about you.’

‘I have a trip planned for you today,’ he says, throwing off his t-shirt. I notice his arms are bulking up again, and guess he must have another action movie planned. He’s so disciplined. To be able to transform his body back and forth like that.

‘What sort of trip?’ I ask.

‘A shopping trip,’ he says. ‘Merile will take you by boat to a nearby island, where there are some famous stores. There’s on
e
I have in mind – a very famous lingerie store. I know the owner. She’s ready to fit you out in whatever you’d like.’

Wow.
‘Aren’t you coming along?’ I ask.

Marc shakes his head. ‘I need to train. And I don’t want to risk you being photographed with me. I’d never forgive myself if you were hounded by the press.’

‘I know, I know.’ I feel a sadness creeping into my chest. ‘My reputation and all of that. But maybe ... Marc, maybe I don’t care. Just like you don’t care. Maybe all I want is you.’

‘You don’t know what you’re saying,’ he says. ‘It’s hard enough being part of my world, but considering the way we met ... the press would never leave you alone.’

‘I can handle it,’ I say.

‘I don’t want you to handle it,’ says Marc. ‘I want you to be happy.’

‘I’m happy when I’m with you,’ I sa
y. ‘I’m not happy
sneaking around.
Not knowing when I’m going to see you next
.’

Two lines appear above Marc’s nose. ‘I
know. I just don’t know a way to solve that right now
.’

I
put my arms around him, and he feels hot and damp and smells so good. I
press my cheek to his chest and let out a deep sigh. Because honestly, I don’t know how we’re going to do this. So I may as well just enjoy it while it lasts.

 

The lingerie boutique is low lit, with purple velvet couches and flickering candles everywhere. It smells like a spa, and when I arrive a lady in a purple dress escorts me to a couch and gives me a crushed cherry and brandy cocktail.

‘We’ve found a model who’s
similar to your size and build,’ she explains, pointing towards a series of crushed velvet curtains. ‘She’ll be modelling our latest range for you, and you just choose what you like.’

Now I’m glad Marc isn’t with me. I don’t like the idea of him watching a model dressed up in different ranges of underwear.

The model appears from behind a curtain. She’s beautiful, with a slender waist and long, willowy legs and arms.

‘She’s my build and size?’ I say. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely sure,’ says the purple dress lady. ‘You’re very similar shapes.’

The first set of underwear is white silk
,
sewn with dozens of glittering black stones. It’s beautiful, but not quite me. Then comes a dazzling parade of fairy-tale style green and blue pieces sewn with fairy-wing
mesh and embroidered with gothic, black
trees.

‘I love those,’ I say, and the purple dress lady signals for a set to be bagged for me.

I see a dozen other styles and designs, including stockings and suspen
ders, and choose a navy
blue set with frills and net, a pack of panties with frills on the rear and a black suspender belt with little crosses sewn all over it.

When I arrive back at the glass house, Marc inspects my purchases. He chooses the fairytale set and tells me to put them on right now. Then he hands me a script.

‘You’re going to perform this scene in your underwear,’ he says.

I look at the script. It’s for a play called
The Sex Diaries
– a play infamous for its nudity, and t
he
fact it follows
married couples
on their
sexual adventure
s
around London.

‘You know I’d never audition for a play like this,’ I say.
‘Not yet.’

‘Exactly,’ says Marc. ‘But I’m hoping together we might fix that little failing. I’d like you to perform the scene starting on page
52. You’re Georgia. I’ll play
Harry.’

I m
ight have guessed. The
simulated sex scene
in which
Georgia
, a middle-aged married woman,
seduces Harry
, her friend’s husband,
in
the upstairs bedroom at a party
. In the play, she ends up completely nude on stage.

I take a deep breath, shake my arms and try to get into character. I feel myself smile at Marc.
‘You know,
’ I say, my voice becoming louder and more refined,

if you want to have sex with me, you only have to ask.’

Marc raises an eyebrow. ‘I’ll bear that in mind. And may I just add, if I wanted to have sex with you, I’d be much more direct. I want you to rehearse this scene for good reason. It’s to help develop you as an actress.
I’ve stolen you away from lectures today.

‘Oh.’

‘A
nd since you’re in your underwear already, I thought this was a good part to
stretch your boundaries and lo
se some of your inhibitions.’

‘What are left of them,’ I say.

Marc laughs, and moves
me to the window by my hips. ‘
Here. You’re looking out the wi
n
d
ow.’ He hands me the script
and turns to page 50. ‘Start with this line.’

I cough, and read the line. ‘Darling, I’m just getting dre
ssed. You don’t mind do you?’
I try to
loosen my body even more
.

Other books

I Do Not Sleep by Judy Finnigan
Life Penalty by Joy Fielding
Final Scream by Brookover, David
Mrs Fox by Sarah Hall