She was close.
"Don't come," I told her. "And don't take the pressure off.
She couldn't hold back one delicious little sob, but I knew she obeyed.
I moved back to the bed and dropped the restraints beside her.
Without another word I grabbed the toy out of her hand, tossing it off the bed.
I cupped her shoulders in my hands, breathing her in, throbbing in time to her every breath.
"Struggle," I said the one word with relish, and let her go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
MY CHAINS
She obeyed, struggling. She did it just perfectly too, attempting to get around me and off the bed.
I didn't use my hands but my body to keep her corralled at first, only resorting to my hands after I had her trapped beneath me, my chest to her back.
I pinned her roughly to her stomach and hogtied her with soft leather restraints, wrists to ankles behind her back, stomach down on the bed.
She was in a state, thrashing even after I had her confined. It was delicious, and just what I needed.
I picked her up by the ankles, lifting her as I bent my mouth to her sex, and started tongue fucking her pussy from behind.
She was whimpering, trying and soon to be failing to hold back her orgasm.
I still hadn't told her she could come.
I did now, breathing it into her hot wet core.
Her hips jerked as I got her off.
I lifted my head as she finished, lowering her by the ankles back down, pausing about six inches off the mattress. I dropped her the rest of the way.
I grabbed hold of her ankles again and mounted her like that, while she was still winded from the fall and completely helpless.
I took her like an animal, rutting, shoving, thrusting, owning her softness with my hardness, mercilessly, brutally.
I was completely insatiable, marking my territory in the most primal of ways—with my seed deep in her flesh. Repeatedly.
I stayed inside of her long after I came, hands moving to rub her ass as her cunt milked me to the last drop.
When I finally pulled out, I grabbed her ankles, tilting her hips back and up, holding her like that, watching her sex while she squirmed in my hands.
I undid her restraints and laid each of her limbs down softly on the bed. She didn't move, still on her stomach.
I went to the other room, fastening my slacks as I moved. I washed my hands in the bathroom, then moved into our closet.
I grabbed her fresh clothes, myself a new shirt, and returned back to where she lay, still limp where I'd left her.
I started dressing her without a word.
She didn't catch on at first that something was off about me. It wasn't exactly unusual for me to come home from work and want to ravish her.
I tugged lightly on the thin body chain still attached to her, sliding my fingers down to where it was fastened at her sex, rubbing it to score against her over-sensitized clit.
"Is it very sensitive right now?"
"Yes." She shivered.
"Does the chain hurt?"
She shot me a look that left me breathless.
God, this woman could undo me. Destroy me. Utterly.
My smile was direct, eyes tender. "Let me rephrase. Does it hurt in a way you don't enjoy?"
Her silence was her answer. The chain stayed on.
I finished dressing her quickly. "Dinner time," I said shortly.
She made noises about it, but I didn't let her shower.
I could hear several of our security personnel in the kitchen as we passed. This wasn't unusual. They worked here twenty-four seven, but only Clark and Blake had a house on the property. The rest worked in shifts, came and went, and ate at the house.
I took her arm, and led her in there, to dine at the less formal breakfast nook, as opposed to one of the formal dining rooms.
The staff, who'd been joking and having a general good time, went silent as we walked in, the three security guys moving to file out of the room.
"No need to leave," I said, eyes on Joseph, who was leaning against the counter and watching me warily. "Join us, why don't you, for dinner?"
This wasn't so unusual. We sometimes dined informally, sometimes invited the staff, who we tended to treat more like friends and family, especially since Bianca had come into my life.
But I could tell as I studied him that Joseph knew why I did this now.
I maneuvered it so that Bianca was at my right, Joseph on the other side of her.
I watched him. Watched him sneak looks at her. They were side by side. So close, with me right fucking there and still he couldn't stop himself.
God, he could probably smell it, the sex on her. It probably made him want her more, even knowing it was another man who'd put the sex on her to smell.
I reached under the table with my right hand, sliding it up her leg, into her shorts, teasing my fingers through her wet folds.
She met my cold eyes, and I saw the moment when she realized that I was upset.
I stared into her eyes as I found the chain just above her sex and tugged.
Her eyes glazed over, jaw going slack.
I glanced over at Joseph. He was watching us, his face flushed in temper.
He knew I was touching her under the table. I saw it in his tight-lipped anger, saw the disapproval in his eyes, the jealousy.
Good. This lesson was primitive, but it needed to be taught, uncouth as it was.
I was feeling far from civilized.
I had an overwhelming need to stake my claim. Mark my territory.
All of these animalistic impulses overpowered so many of my normal inclinations. Normally I sheltered her. But for him, this fucker that questioned my ownership, I wanted to put my possession of her on stark display.
I drew the meal out. I'd had the cook make burgers and fries, an unusual request for me, but perfectly suited to the occasion.
I pulled my hand away when it was time to eat, catching her eye so she saw me lick my fingers clean.
She shuddered, her breath panting out of her harshly.
I devoured my burger with gusto, slowly savoring each bite, watching them the entire time—her reaction to me, his fixation on her.
One by one, each of the staff finished eating and excused themselves to go back to work.
All but Joseph.
I shot him a cold glare, and reached a hand over, gripping a hand into Bianca's hair. I leaned close and pulled her the rest of the way, and gave her a long, hot, bruising kiss.
I pulled slightly back and brought her ear to my mouth. I took a few deep breaths, inhaling her before I spoke.
"You smell like me. Like you belong to me. Because you're mine. Go strip down, get in bed, the other bed, and wait for me. I'm going to tie you up and make you suck me off. And that's only the start, love. I'll come inside of every part of you before this night is through."
She pulled back, studied my face for a few pregnant moments, and then left.
I didn't watch her leave. I was too busy watching him watch her leave.
I gave him a cold smile when he finally realized I was staring at him.
I waited until I was sure she was out of earshot to speak. I leaned in. "That's my wife you're casting those lovesick stares at," I growled at him.
He glared back, looking outraged. "I'm well aware. I'm also well aware of the way you treat her. Like an object. To abuse. I see the marks you leave on her. I see it all."
That had me barking out a laugh, at his expense. "Oh that is rich," I told him, cold disdain in every syllable. "A prude, working for me. How about this? You keep your prudish mind out of my bedroom, and off my wife, you bastard."
I had to clench my fists to keep from attacking him, because attacking him was not what I needed to do here.
I needed to get him to talk. I'd love nothing so much as for him to give me any excuse to fire him, something I could use that was more substantial, in terms of evidence for Bianca, t
han the way he looked at her.
I sneered at him. "What did you think, that you would sweep in and save her from me? She's mine. You think I abuse her? Then wrap your mind around this: She is in absolute bondage to me, chained to me for life, and the things I've used to chain her to my side are beyond your ability to break."
He didn't say anything else, though I could tell he badly wanted to.
Instead, he got up and walked away.
It was not what I'd wanted him to do and completely unsatisfying.
"I thought you decided a long time ago not to do any of that in anger," Bianca told me later.
We were soaking in a bath. I snagged one of her feet and started rubbing at her arch.
I was trying to relax, to get over my rage, but even several orgasms and a hot bath didn't seem to be curing me.
I was bad at relaxing, always had been.
"I said I wouldn't do it when I was angry at you," I told her finally, kissing the bottom of her foot.
"Are you really going to try to say right now, with the way you've been acting all afternoon, that none of this anger is directed at me?"
I gave her very steady eye contact. "Yes, that is what I'm telling you. Not an ounce of my anger is for you."
She sighed. "It's Joseph, isn't it? You can't fire him over something so silly. You know you can't. That's insane. He's worked for us for years. You can't fire him just because I painted a picture of him. That's what I do. I paint things. I paint people. It's not even his fault. I asked him to pose."
"That's not why I'd fire him."
She gave me a genuinely confused look that went a long way towards making me feel better. "I don't understand."
I watched her face, wondering if she really didn't know.
If somehow she didn't, I wasn't going to be the one to tell her. I didn't want to see her reaction to his feelings for her.
What if she was tempted? What if she had feelings for him?
Without another word, I got out of the bath and went to bed.
I approached Stephan about it, a few days later, wanting his take on the situation, and his opinion on how to handle it.
We met up for lunch at his bar in my casino. I got right to the point.
"Joseph's become a problem," I told him bluntly.
He grimaced. Clearly, he knew just what I was referring to. "Bianca sees him as a friend. A good friend. You can't just fire him."
My jaw clenched. That didn't help.
"Does she know he's in love with her?" I asked quietly.
He didn't look surprised by the information, but he shook his head. "No, no I don't think so. If she had a clue how he felt, she wouldn't be so open and friendly with him. She wouldn't spend so much time with him."
I cringed. "She spends that much time with him?"
"No. Stop. Don't do that to yourself. She doesn't spend an excessive amount of time with him, just, you know, he works at the house, he takes her around. He's her bodyguard. That's his job. But you've got nothing to worry about. She would never . . ."
I knew I was in a foul mood when even Stephan was agitating me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to him with something and not had him make me feel better about it.
"You find that situation to be acceptable?" I asked him bitingly. "You think this is going to end well? It's escalating, I can tell."
He didn't disagree with me, but he didn't have a solution, either.
I went to Clark about it next.
"Did you know that you hired someone with a very distinct distaste for my lifestyle?" I asked him.
He didn't look surprised. The set of his mouth was annoyed, and a touch resigned. "I do now. I've been catching that vibe for a while, but I didn't know it at the start. Of course, they've all signed NDAs that will protect you."
"Yes I know. This wasn't actually my real issue. Can you guess what is?"
He rubbed at a temple, looking tired. "Yes, I can. I don't know what to do about it. Firing is the easiest solution, with a severance package, but you're going to have to get that past Bianca. They're good friends, you know."
I laughed, and it was a bitter sound. "Yes, so I've noticed."
"I spoke to him about it," Clark added. This was news to me. "I told him that he needs to do a better job of staying part of the background. It's not his job to keep the boss's wife company."
"No, it's not. Did you also tell him it's not his job to lust after my wife?"
"I did, yes. In so many words. He said he'll do better. We'll just have to wait and see, unless you wanted to handle it more aggressively. Up to you. Just let me know."
I shook my head. "No, we'll wait and see, like you said."
I confronted Joseph at every opportunity, but he was doing much better at keeping his thoughts and his reactions to himself and under control after that. I didn't know if it was because of Clark, or if his own sense of self-preservation had finally kicked in.
As much as it went against the grain, I did nothing, just watched, and waited, feeling sick to my stomach every time I thought of him spending time with her.
It was agony for me. It made me antsy all the time. Was he with her right now? Would he slowly worm his way into her affections?
Had he already?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MY PROCLIVITIES
I came home in the early afternoon, some days later, to find her riding.
As soon I found out where she was, I headed straight there, not even bothering to change out of my suit.
Our female horse trainer, Cosette, was with her in the corral, helping her tweak her legwork.
Joseph was there.
He was leaning against the fence post, elbows on the top rail, watching them train.
I approached the corral, but kept walking when I reached it, moving into the tack room. I grabbed the first riding crop I saw, and headed back outside.
I went to lean beside him, eyes on Bianca posting, a fucking indecent sight, and began to slap the crop against my palm.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, saw when he caught what I was doing, was aware of his jaw clenching, fists balling.
I smiled, turning my head to catch his eye.
He looked back at me, clearly agitated.
"Beyond your ability to break," I reiterated my words from days earlier softly, succinctly.
Temper flared in his eyes, but he held his tongue, unfortunately.
I moved away from him, entering the corral, striding across the large space to where the women worked.
Cosette stood at the center of the enclosure, calling out instructions to Bianca. You could tell just with a few words between them that the women were close. There was much affection and camaraderie in the way she coached my wife.
Cosette was a diminutive woman, delicately built, somehow able to use that small frame of hers to do some of the most skillful riding I'd ever seen, controlling powerful animals with a flick of her wrists.
I'd hired her two years ago, at Pete's referral, when I'd realized that there was no way in hell I'd allow Pete to teach my wife how to ride.
He'd sworn at the time that Cosette was the best, and he'd been right.
She turned to smile at me as I approached. She was a beautiful woman, with delicately defined features, her streaky hair cut into an edgy bob, short in the back and sides, with long straight bangs that framed her face and emphasized her high cheekbones.
"We're finishing up now," she told me. "She's making great progress."
I just nodded, turning to watch my wife, still slapping the crop against my palm.
Bianca guided her horse my way. "You're going ruin another suit," she said, smiling at me.
I smiled back. "Yes, yes, I am."
She had no idea.
"Come here," I said to her, lowering the crop to my side so it wouldn't spook the horse as she walked it closer.
I grabbed her leg with my left hand, sliding my crop up to tap her shoulder with the other. I used a light pressure on it to
guide her down to me.
She leaned down until our mouths were touching. I thrust my tongue into her hot wet mouth, moving the crop down her back to play over her ass teasingly.
Eventually I pulled back, tucked the crop into my belt, and dragged her down from the saddle, pressing her against me.
I looked at Colette. "We'd like to have the stables to ourselves, for a bit."
She was unfazed. She'd been working here a while. She knew how we were. "Of course. I'll leave you to it."
I turned my head, hand rubbing over Bianca's back. Joseph was still at the fence, still watching, the brazen bastard.
My hand moved down to her ass and squeezed hard. Mine.
"He should not be watching you do this," I told her quietly, voice hard.
She stiffened, turning her head to look. "Joseph? What are you talking about? He's just doing his job, patrolling the property."
I tried hard to control my breathing and my tone. "So he's just passing by. He wasn't watching your entire lesson?"
She paused and I gnashed my teeth.
"I guess he has been. I barely noticed. He's harmless."
Gnash gnash gnash.
"Go wait for me in the tack room," I told her, kissing her on the forehead and thrusting her in that direction.
I headed the opposite way, moving until I was standing a few feet from the bane of my existence.
I pulled the crop out of my belt and started slapping it loudly against my palm. I didn't bother to mask my expression to him, and I knew what it looked like—Savage.
Uncivilized.
Slap, slap, slap.
"Enjoy the show?" I asked him, tone pointed and biting.
He didn't answer, just moved his eyes from my face to my hands, up and down.
Slap, slap, slap.
"Did you watch her entire lesson?"
Silence.
Slap, slap, slap.
"Do you always watch her ride when I'm not home?" I asked.
He took a deep breath, but still, silence.
Thwack! The crop struck the fence suddenly, right next to his hand.