Little Red Riding Crop (3 page)

“No collar,” she said with finality. “One hour of you on top. I’ll sub. Then I get my five minutes with The Dame.”

Brad leaned against the stair railing and studied her with his pale blue eyes.

“Nora … we both know you’re not going to leave King for Black Forest. Why are you so interested in talking to The Dame?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Are you going to tell me your reasons?”

“Nope.”

“Of course, if you submit to me, I suppose I could order you to tell me your reasons.”

At the utterance of the words “submit to me” Nora’s heart started to race a little faster, her breath quickened. She licked her bottom lip in nervous anticipation.

“Yes, I suppose you could.”

“Call me ‘Sir’ if you want to see The Dame,” he ordered, pressing closer.

“So …” Nora stopped and took a breath, “what are our rules here … Sir?”

“No rules.”

“No rules? Not even …”

Brad grinned at her with such hunger Nora wasn’t sure if he planned to beat her or eat her.

“I’ll take that as a ‘not even …’ ” Nora said. She took a long breath in and slowly let it out through her teeth. They didn’t need to spell it out. No rules meant no rules. And the one rule of the professional Dominants? No sex with the clients. But she wasn’t a client. She was a Dominatrix, a Dominatrix who really needed to get laid.

A month off.

No Kingsley.

No work.

Europe.

“Fine. Done. One hour. No rules. I’m yours.”

Brad only stared at her with his lips a thin hard line. He raised his eyebrow. Once more Nora sighed.

“I’m yours … Sir.”

“You are now.”

Brad didn’t hesitate, no doubt not wanting to give her the chance to change her mind. With his right hand he grasped Nora by her upper arm and half-dragged, half-carried her up the stairs. Nora dropped her eyes to the floor and let him lead her to a room near the end of the hallway. He kicked it open and threw her in. She landed on the plush carpeted floor and stayed there not looking at him while he closed and locked the door.

“When’s the last time someone hit you?” Brad stood in front of her, his feet on either side of her knees.

“A long time ago.” She started to smile up at him but remembered her place.

“Too long. Look at you … dressed up like one of the big girls with her big girl boots. And trying to play with the big kids? It’s embarrassing. Are you even thirty yet?”

“Thirty-one … Sir.”

“Are you even five feet tall?”

“Five foot three.”

“You’re a little girl, Nora. And someone needs to remind you that this town doesn’t belong to you.”

Brad reached down and tapped Nora under her chin, a signal that she was to look at him. She met his eyes and waited in silence.

“So this is how we get you to shut up.” Brad grinned wickedly at her and desire coupled with rebellion welled up within her. “We should make you submit more often. Cross. Now.”

Nora started to stand up, but Brad put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

“Crawl to it.”

She hid her rolling eyes behind her hair and crawled on her hands and knees to the St Andrew’s cross on the wall.

“Up.”

She stood up and waited as Brad unlaced her corset and pulled it off her. It took a hard bite to her own tongue to stop herself from smirking as Brad stared at her now-naked breasts.

“What a waste …” Brad sighed, as he cupped her breasts in both large hands. The heat from his hands
sank into her skin. Nora almost sighed from the pleasure of his touch, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Such a beautiful woman … you should spend your days and nights naked tied to a man’s bed, gagged and blindfolded with your body waiting to be used.”

He kneaded her right nipple and Nora closed her eyes.

“But instead Kingsley keeps you locked up in leather.” Brad kissed that sensitive spot under her ear as he unzipped her skirt. Nora suppressed a ragged breath. She didn’t want to want this as much as she did. She had to control herself, stay focused, let him do what he wanted so she could get what she wanted and get out. But she couldn’t quite remember what she wanted.

Brad pulled her skirt down and off her before touching her clitoris gently with the tip of his finger.

Oh yes. That was what she wanted. Now she remembered.

Naked but for her boots, Nora stood waiting as Brad assaulted her with the softest of kisses on her neck and shoulders, the most careful of touches on her breasts. His restraint was the purest form of torture for a woman who hadn’t been fucked in two months.

“Turn around,” he ordered, but didn’t wait for her to comply. He simply spun her and forced her into the cross. Nora rested her cheek against the smooth wood and waited. So many memories crowded into her mind … memories of nights she’d left behind with the one man, the only man, she’d ever loved …

“Do you like it?” Brad asked as he strapped her wrists and ankles to the X-shaped cross. “I made it myself.”

“It’s beautiful.” Nora spoke with sincerity. She knew good work when she saw it. “Sturdy. I like the black paint. Looks a lot like the one in my basement at home.”

“You keep a St Andrew’s cross in your basement? You’re kinkier than I thought.”

Nora shrugged. “It’s good for drying laundry.”

“That’s it. That’s a flogging for you.” Brad pulled away and Nora grinned into the crossbeam.

“Oh … darn.”

She steeled herself as behind her Brad whipped the air with a flogger. From the sound of it, she could tell he’d picked a heavy one. It beat the air instead of slicing through it. This would hurt.

Good.

The first blow landed without a word of warning, but she managed to stifle any cries of pain or shock. The second landed even harder, but still Nora kept quiet. Sadists and Dominants loved forcing a reaction from their subs–pleasure, pain, shock, shame, it didn’t matter as long as the submissive entertained them with their moans and gasps and pleas for mercy. But Nora wouldn’t give Brad the satisfaction.

After a few minutes, he dropped the flogger and Nora panted as quietly as she could while her back burned and ached. What would he do to her next? Caning maybe? A single-tail? A paddle? She’d had it all before. Nothing he did would shock her or surprise her.

From behind her she heard movement, the rustle of fabric. She gasped when Brad pressed his body against her back. She felt nothing but skin and desire against her.

“Now I know how to get a reaction out of you.” Brad chuckled in her ear. His erection pressed into her. She felt a drop of something warm and wet on the small of her back.

“I promise … I’m reacting,” she whispered as Brad ran his hands up and down the sides of her body … over her ribcage and waist, down her hips and thighs and up again. He slipped a hand between her open legs and shoved two fingers inside her. They went in easily, her wet body giving him no resistance.

“Good reaction.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Brad bit down into her neck hard enough she flinched.

“And that was an even better one. Wonder what kind of reaction I’ll get when I fuck you.”

“Only one way to find out,” Nora breathed, as Brad pushed a third finger into her.

“Very true … You know, Nora, for that little stunt you pulled, keeping quiet while I was beating the hell out of you, I’m going to have to punish you. I think maybe I’ll punish you by fucking you so hard you scream for me.”

Now Nora laughed.

“I don’t scream, Sir. I make others scream. In fact, that’s how I ended up at the police station this morning.”

“You don’t scream? You say that like it’s a fact,” he said, unstrapping her from the cross, “when we both know I’ll just take it as a challenge.”

He dragged her from the cross to a small bed piled high with silk sheets and pillows. Pulling a pillow to the center of the bed, he pushed Nora down onto it, positioning it under her hips as she lay face down on the
bed. She waited while he moved about the room gathering supplies. He was cute, Brad was, Nora thought. Scream? Her? During sex?

Brad came back to the bed and took both her wrists in one hand. First he looped black silk rope around them before tying them to one bedpost. She heard metal and felt Brad forcing her legs even wider open. He clamped cuffs around her booted ankles and hooked them to the ends of a spreader bar. Nora breathed deep and let her hips open up and relax into the three-foot spread. Brad must be in the mood to go deep.

“Are you trying to make me scream from pleasure or pain?” Nora taunted. With her ankles so far apart, she’d probably feel Brad all the way against her bottom ribs. Fine. Let him fuck her like that. She could take and would take it … all the way to Europe for a month.

“Doesn’t matter as long as you’re screaming.” She heard the dark amusement in his voice. Typical sadist–arrogant, superior, and casually brutal. They really were her favorite men.

Brad straddled her hips and Nora took a few slow, calming breaths. No one had been inside her for two months. And at this angle in this position … this wasn’t going to be easy.

Close your eyes and think of England … Nora repeated Queen Victoria’s famous wedding-night advice to herself. England. France. Europe. Castles … dungeons … men who didn’t speak English … the canals of Venice … water lapping at the sides of her boat … the wheels of trains passing through the Alps … the sounds of buzzing …

Buzzing?

Brad pushed a hand under Nora’s hips and lifted them an inch off the pillow. She flinched with pleasure as he pressed a butterfly-style vibrator against her clitoris. A hand on her back guided her back down into the pillow, the vibrator firmly nestled against her, sending waves of bliss reverberating through her hips and stomach and thighs. Over the buzzing she heard the unmistakable sound of foil tearing.

Nora turned her face into the burgundy silk as Brad pressed his knees against hers. As wet as she was and as open, Nora took his full length into her easily. She groaned as he filled her inch by inch.

“That’s a good start,” he whispered in her ear. “I think we can turn the volume up a little though.”

He punctuated the suggestion with a thrust, hard and deep. Nora gasped and pushed into the vibrator. Her clitoris pulsated with sensation. She pulled against the ropes that tied her to the bedpost.

“You can’t get away …” Brad trailed kisses across her shoulders. He moved slowly inside her, pulling himself out to the tip before pushing back in. Nora’s gasps turned to moans and back to gasps again. Brad set a steady pace and didn’t deviate from it no matter how Nora moved underneath him. He kept her perched on the edge of ecstasy but didn’t push hard enough to send her over. Instead he continued to thrust with precision and control. It seemed to go on forever. Nora felt herself rising off the bed as she fell into the rhythm of the sex. God, she missed this. And not only the penetration, the physical sensation, she missed being underneath a man,
missed being dominated, being used. She shouldn’t like this feeling so much. It put terrible thoughts in her head. Thoughts of him … the man who’d found her, made her, changed her, and loved her. The man she left and would never go back to.

Brad slipped his hands over her ribcage and cupped her breasts, holding them as he began to thrust harder into her. With such force she should have been moaning with pain, but the vibrator pulsed into her clitoris and the harder he pushed the more she wanted. Her breathing grew louder, more ragged, more desperate and hungry. She heard Brad’s own grunts of pleasure in her ear. She let out a moan, deep and throaty, and Brad started to pound into her with brutal force. The pleasure slammed against pain and pushed back into pleasure. Brad reached under her and forced the vibrator even harder into her.

Nora buried her face in the sheets. Brad dug his teeth into the back of her shoulder. When she came, she came with a scream even the bed could not muffle. But not even her scream could cover the sound of Brad’s groan as he flinched and shuddered with his own powerful orgasm.

Passively Nora lay beneath Brad as he caught his breath before pulling slowly out of her raw body. He untied her wrists from the bedpost, unstrapped her ankles from the spreader bar. Nora rolled onto her back, looked his naked form up and down, and laughed.

“Yes, laughing at me while I’m naked,” Brad said, as he looped the rope and knotted it neatly. Nora saw the amusement in his eyes. “That is sure to get you into my
good graces.”

“I’m only laughing because your nickname is so appropriate … Mr. Big Brad Wolfe,” Nora said with nothing but appreciation for his big-bradness. “Is Wolfe really your last name?”

Brad gave her a wink.

“Is Nora Sutherlin really your name?”

“
Touché
. So it’s been an hour. And you made me scream, you bastard. Do I win? Do I get my five minutes with the Dame?”

Brad sighed heavily.

“Talking about your one motivation for letting me beat you and fuck you won’t really get you on my good side either.”

This time, Nora couldn’t see the smile.

“Brad … you knew I was here to see The Dame. One hour with you, five minutes with her. That was the deal.” Nora raised up on her elbows, wincing at the soreness between her legs.

“The deal. Right.”

“You and me … we’re supposed to be professionals here,” she reminded him.

“I don’t fuck my clients.” Brad pulled on his pants with brisk efficiency. “Neither do you, I hear. What happened here wasn’t business.”

“Yeah … but it was a lot of fucking fun.” She winked at him and Brad finally cracked a smile.

“I can’t argue with that. Okay, get dressed. The Dame’s office is opposite this one in the other hall–black door, red knob. Don’t bother knocking. Just go in.”

“Will she be nice to me?”

“Depends on her mood. I’ll see you out.”

Brad left without even kissing her goodbye. Then Nora realized how odd it was she even wanted him to. Just sex. Just a trade. Just business.

Careful of her flogged back, Nora dressed in her skirt and corset and pulled on her red cloak once more. She took her time for reasons she didn’t want to consider. She needed to get this over with so she could get out of town and forget about Kingsley, about the Black Forest, and especially about the Big Brad Wolfe. She’d lay down her little red riding crop for a few weeks and come back to New York more vicious than ever.