“I did test you. I am not in the habit of explaining myself, but in this case, suffice it to say that I have extremely high standards and hate to waste my time.”
Ivone stood, effectively cutting him off. “Stop. Stop it now. You will never find someone to measure up because you keep changing the rules, raising the bar, because you don’t have a clue. It keeps you from making the commitment. I understand. I really do. I’m afraid myself. But I’ve just discovered that I need more, and perhaps I misled you. I apologize for my earlier behavior. I know better. Now, I would like to leave.”
Jamison knew the truth when he heard it. Especially when he was so angry at himself that he could have punched a hole in the wall. In a few short sentences, Ivone had laid him bare and forced him to face himself. Now she would leave, and he would go back to his old ways and be content.
Right, he wouldn’t interfere, wouldn’t try to stop her.
He nodded.
“I’ll call you a cab,” he affirmed. “You may collect your coat and wait at the front door. The clothing was all that we had available, and there is no need to return it. John will show you out.”
* * * *
Ivone kept a neutral expression and hurried out of the bedroom. So he hadn’t tried to remind her of her place when he’d provided the strange garments. She thought she should go back, try to open a dialogue, but she saw John was waiting with her coat.
“I had hoped that he would recognize you, my dear,” the old man confided quietly.
Ivone looked at him.
“He needs you. I can tell you are different from the others and so can he, but he won’t allow himself to accept it. He is afraid, Miss Ivone.”
Ivone bit her quivering bottom lip. “It scares me to know that I understand everything you just said to me, John. It should be too soon. I only met him last night, yet we connected in a way I’ve never felt before. But he would consume me because he can’t seem to stop finding fault, and would keep pushing me away. I know that he’s trying to protect himself, but I would keep trying until I was used up. That fear of his would kill us both.”
She stopped, wondering where that insight had come from. Her mother talked of finding her soul mate in her father, but theirs had also been a tortured relationship even though they couldn’t live without one another for any length of time. Ivone couldn’t do that. She liked herself too much for that. It had taken a lot of work, a lot of therapy, but she had come to like herself, to learn and believe that she hadn’t been responsible for driving her parents apart. That she was entitled to a relationship that was different from her parents. That she just might be worthy of love. Impulsively, she kissed John on the cheek.
“Take care of him,” she whispered.
“I will,” he answered gravely. “As much as he will let me.”
“Ivone.” Jamison’s voice penetrated their collusion. “Come here.”
Ivone trembled but took a step toward him. Her brain told her to flee, to maybe save herself, but her heart was her mother’s.
Jamison pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her like steel bands, and spoke to John over her head.
“Miss Ivone will be staying for the weekend. Please advise Joyce.”
John sounded both worried and relieved. “Yes, sir.”
Jamison took her down with him onto his huge bed, tearing away the shirt and pulling the black pants down to her knees. He fumbled his cock out and entered her in the next breath, crushing his lips to hers. He pounded at her, the fabric restricting her knees and making her tighter to penetrate. It felt as though he was trying to show her what she meant to him, that he would try not to push her away, that she was his woman. They reached orgasm nearly at the same moment and he muffled her cries with his mouth and then groaned his release into her shoulder. He didn’t take his weight from her right away but engulfed her with his whole body, and Ivone fancifully thought he was trying to absorb her very soul as he held her so closely. When she pushed at his shoulders and he realized she couldn’t breathe, he rolled off but pulled her with him, never taking his eyes from her face nor his arms from around her. He looked at her with what she thought might be love, or something close to it, although she really wasn’t sure she knew what love looked like. She stared back at him with the same expression, she was sure, and when he smiled, her heart melted. Not that she would give voice to it.
Ivone pushed the pencil behind her ear, snagging it through her hair. She was exhausted and hoped the final two hours of her work day would move quicker than the first several had. Reed was back and pissed at the lack of movement on one of the accounts. He knew where the fault actually lay, but for some reason decided to blame the team. Ivone stood up to him, and he had stormed away before returning a short time later to ask her forgiveness. However, that meant the team really had to produce and everyone was worn out and seeing double. Ivone ruefully reflected on the weekend she had spent with Jamison. He hadn’t let her sleep more than a few hours at a time, so she was more tired than normal.
Idly, she thought back to those three days. Jamison was truly insatiable, and he had taken her every way he could think of and then became more creative. He had corrected her the same afternoon that she had lost it and told him off, and Ivone didn’t especially want to dwell on that memory. He denied her countless orgasms until she lost her voice begging, and then finally gave her one that caused her to pass out, for he had actually given her several, but so close to one another that she couldn’t separate them. That experience had actually been close to painful. He had woken her with an icepack on her clit while he fucked her from behind and she was glad to avoid release that time. She was also really glad that she took estrogen shots rather than oral birth control, because he was probably incredibly potent.
He had then flogged her, paddled her, clamped her, and brought her off with ease throughout the weekend, and she had loved it all. She suspected his preference was her ass although she had sucked him off several times and had learned how much he liked her to hold her breath when he was at the back of her throat. Jamison seemed to save vaginal sex for his more tender moments. He held her afterwards and looked into her eyes as though he was searching for something. They spent time talking and sharing, too, although Ivone knew Jamison still kept a part of himself aloof. She understood it would take time before he would feel safe enough to open up to her fully but was too tired to speculate. She had learned he was wealthy and had inherited the business from his father, and that he had one sister, several years older than he was. Liza hadn’t married, apparently, although she was presently in a relationship. Jamison had told her that he hoped she would meet Liza when she came for her next visit. He clearly envisioned a longer relationship that his usual ones, and Ivone carefully stored that vision away for examination at a later date.
She told him about her parents, and how they had time only for one another, although had cared for her in a diffident manner. She was careful not to draw too obvious a comparison about her mom and dad’s stormy relationship, on again, off again, but always with deep, deep passion. It had frightened her as a child, and scarred her psyche, too, for the continual leaving and reuniting tainted her views of relationships. Her parents hadn’t used her against one another. She went with whoever left after a drama, taken along like one of the suitcases, silent and worried. Oh, there was never any physical violence, but the emotional angst tied her in knots, and she worried about ever being able to commit, to take the risk of anyone having such power over her and being able to hurt her so deeply. She had so badly wanted to be taken care of on some level and then found the clarity of BDSM reassuring and freeing as the correction and discipline alleviated all her pent-up emotions. But it was about learning to trust, and now she had met someone she was strongly attracted to on so many levels, and who seemed to struggle with similar shit. Oh boy. Life had an interesting sense of humor.
Joyce served wonderful meals, and although Ivone had been nude and kneeling at Jamison’s feet or curled on his lap, he had made certain that she had the choicest morsels from his own plate. Joyce took her naked presence in stride, which seemed to surprise Jamison, for initially he had been tense and protective. But Joyce, after a brief hesitation, had merely nodded to Ivone and kept cooking for them. John of course accepted her as though she belonged, which she felt she did. Jamison had undergone some sort of change. She didn’t want to examine it too closely, but he, too, seemed to have simply accepted her and had forgone his “tests.” There had been no talk of a contract, and Ivone wasn’t concerned about that, although she probably should have been. He had driven her home in time for her to get ready for her job, as promised, and told her that he would see her later. Ivone simply took him at his word and didn’t worry about it.
She forced her attention back to the work. She caught Kathie’s interested look and gave a noncommittal smile. She had chosen her clothing and makeup with care that morning to conceal any evidence of the weekend of debauchery, but Kathie seemed to sense something. Kathie was nearer her age and had asked about BDSM. Ivone had told her not to fool with something unless she had educated herself, and suggested several books and Internet sites. Not that
she
was following protocol of late! Ivone didn’t hide her interest, but neither did she flaunt it and had wondered where Kathie picked up on it. It turned out that Kathie’s cousin frequented Vice and had let it slip that Ivone was a member. Fortunately, the cousin had moved away and hadn’t outed Ivone’s status in the club. Ivone had no intention of letting Kathie have any more info than she already had, especially about the past weekend. This thing with Jamison was too precious. Not that she would be the best mentor in any event, considering how she had flouted the D/s code much of the weekend. She really didn’t care that she had.
Jamison was waiting for her outside the office building when Ivone finished work for the day. Her heart stuttered at the sight of him in jeans and a casual shirt, leaning against his SUV, his eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses. She could feel Kathie’s eyes boring between her shoulder blades and smiled to herself. She went to Jamison, and he helped her into the passenger seat without a word after kissing her masterfully. Arousal came off him in waves and Ivone’s sex flooded in response. She was nearly naked by the time he pulled up in front of his home, but he had said nothing of import to her, other than to demand she remove certain articles of clothing. While they seemed to be able to read one another fairly well without using words, Ivone decided that Jamison was going to learn to verbally communicate on a more frequent basis. She was excited with anticipation but would welcome that verbal confirmation.
He pulled her out of the vehicle and carried her into the house. John held the door and winked at her as Jamison strode past him and down the hallway, and then he stepped out, presumably to retrieve her clothes. Ivone smiled at him over Jamison’s shoulder, marveling at how comfortable and accepted she felt in this household. Jamison bypassed the playroom and went into the master suite. He dropped her on the bed and tore at his own clothes while she waited for him to indicate his preference. He dropped over her and pushed up inside with no preliminaries and then stilled. Ivone watched him close his eyes and saw his features tighten, as he simply held steady and felt her. She carefully wrapped her arms around him, and he fairly melted into her, and then began to thrust urgently. He came nearly at once and pressed a kiss on her shoulder when he finished. After pulling out, he rolled them both to stand and urged her into the bathroom where he set her in the shower and turned it on, directing the spray away from her until it reached a comfortable temperature. He climbed in and carefully washed her from head to toe. Ivone understood that there was some significance in Jamison’s actions and remained silent, waiting for him to share, but other than murmuring his approval, he didn’t enlighten her. He lifted her out and dried her as carefully as he had washed her, and then flooded her anus with lube, wiping off the excess with a cloth. Ivone trembled in reaction, and Jamison dropped a kiss on either buttock and then took her back into the bedroom where he dressed in front of her. He dropped some items on the bed beside her.
“Put these on and come for dinner,” he said, and left the room.
Sighing, Ivone sorted out the pieces of fabric. Such a difficult man, still so tied up inside. But she had signed up for the long run, and he clearly had a plan for her and believed she would comply. Truth to be told, she thought she would follow him through the fires of hell if it suited her. She stepped into the thong and then put on the bra. The cover-up was transparent, but if this was dinner attire then so be it. She added some lip gloss and went to eat.
Ivone came to a halt as soon as she reached the dining room. The table was set for a large gathering, and there were several couples already in attendance. Shit, this had better not be another test. Would it be so difficult for Jamison to talk with her, prepare her? Obviously so. He expected her to accommodate him without question and her training must have been faulty, because she wasn’t doing so well with this, because he wasn’t doing the best job of communicating with her! But she would do
her
best if it was what he wanted. Maybe. If it suited her. The fires of hell, and how fucked up was she that she was going down this path?
She met his eyes and went to him at his gesture. The room fell silent.