Read The Alexandra Series Online

Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau

Tags: #Erotica

The Alexandra Series (98 page)

BOOK: The Alexandra Series
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“Kind of like it was this time, only you didn’t have the chance to split?”

She bit her lip and replied, pained to admit it, “Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Ian wasn’t right…the way he jumped around from one mood to next without warning. It was like the past, but I didn’t remember that until we’d been together for two months. I never guessed it was drugs. He never offered me any.”

“You never took anything from him that was suspicious?”

“No.”

“You didn’t know a thing about this business dealings?”

“No, I didn’t know.” She’d already explained this a dozen times to lawyers and the police, but she’d repeat it again a hundred times, if that’s what Reggie wanted.

“If you’d known there were drugs would you have taken them?”

“I might have,” she replied.

“You might?”

“I would have,” she corrected herself. “I didn’t have much restraint.”

One afternoon, Reggie asked her to remove her clothes while he was in the middle of the interview. The light in the room was yellow from the sun coming in through gold tapestry drapes. Jocelyn’s body glowed for him as he watched her disrobe, each article of clothing pulled back showing off a little more skin. It was the first time he’d seen her naked since he watched her being strip-searched one day. She’d returned to court and the act was required for a woman still charged with serious crimes. In the gray light of that gray building her body lacked the luster that her pampered skin revealed within the refined beauty of the private hotel room. In that sensuous glow her hair billowed like sails around her shoulders, ringlets of bright auburn curls floating on the slight currents in the room.

“Turn around,” Reggie ordered. “What kind of activity left these bruises?” he asked, pressing the tips of his fingers to several places where just the faintest signs of her whipping in the German club remained. Though it had been two weeks, the pesky wounds had not completely healed. Experienced with the results of a flogging applied to delicate female flesh, Reggie could tell almost to the day how long ago these had been inflicted. He could guess the intensity and the nature of the implement used. Perhaps because he could visualize the session clearly in his mind, he knew exactly how his wife had been humiliated and rendered into a mass of shaking, quivering anguish by the most severe means. What he noticed on her behind, he did not fail to see on her breasts, her thighs and her belly. All Jocelyn had to do was fill in the mere details.

“Ian woke me one night two weeks ago when we were still at the German hotel. He gave me over to a dominant man to be whipped before an audience of men and women who’d paid, as entertainment, to see me worked over. I was strung from the ceiling and flogged like a criminal.”

“Or perhaps like an adulterous wife,” Reggie suggested.

“Or like an adulterous wife,” she repeated the horrible words.

“And you felt some recompense was made in that?”

“Perhaps. But then, it didn’t keep me from staying with him.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Why’s that?”

“Perhaps I’ll have to finish the punishment myself.”

“Will you finish it?” she wondered. She hadn’t asked many questions of him because she feared he wouldn’t answer them, but this one he did.

“Without a doubt.”

It was hot in her hotel room, but she was turning cold.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“All that I did with Ian?” She asked herself the question, spending some moments to think. Yes,” she finally told him, and then waited an even longer time for him to speak.

“In time we’ll heal this Jocelyn,” Reggie said at last. “But don’t be surprised if every detail of this honest and complete confession comes back to haunt you at one time or another.”

“Oh, I wish you’d do something now!” She was desperate to feel something more than just his cool, calculating scrutiny. She longed for just one warm hug like the one he’d given her in the interrogation room, or even a bare-bottomed spanking.

Jocelyn’s lovely nakedness was immensely alluring. Her red hair glowed in the sunlight filtering through the drapes. She looked like Botticelli’s Venus just after sex. She could taste his lips with her moist ones, feel his fingers toying with her damp sex and smell the essence of his manly breath, though he remained firmly fixed on the chair before her as dispassionate as he had been for the several days they’d played through this ritual.

“You do still love me?” she finally asked. Her voice was soft and humble and her green eyes looked intensely sad as she expected him to deny his love, having heard how badly she’d mauled the basic substance of their marriage.

“Yes I do, Jocelyn,” he confirmed. “But as sad as you look, as humble as you present yourself, as contrite as you appear, tell me honestly, do you regret your summer?”

She could have answered right away, but she paused enough for it to look like it took some thought. “No,” she answered simply. “I won’t live regretting anything. But even as much as Ian held me captive, and I chose to remain with him, it was you I wanted with me. I just got so lost, I didn’t know how to have you. And, Reg, if it takes reliving all those submissive moments with you in Ian’s place, I’ll submit to that. I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

“It would be impossible to relive anything,” he said. “And it’s not necessary. But you will begin making amends…” His blue eyes narrowed sternly though there was a spark of something more. “…After we’ve made love tonight.”

For the first time in a week of gazing into his cruel, icy eyes and appealing to him with her heart, hoping to arouse his gentle side, she felt a flood of warmth and saw a softening in his expression. Reaching out, he pulled her by her pubic hair just close enough so he could easily play with her bare groin and its special delights. Jocelyn giggled as she fell down to his lap, suddenly revealing a wicked sparkle of fire in her green eyes.

Reggie’s eyes flashed back fire to match it. Fire and love.

He pressed one hand to her crotch, with the other he held her ass tight in his grip. With his lips he laid a delicate kiss on her lips. His cold and her fear melted with the heat of their two bodies fusing into one. She was regaining herself, seeing her life looking like some bright, beckoning star shining before her eyes. Her nightmare had finally found its end.

Epilogue

One month later…

Reggie pulled Jocelyn from the shower into the steamy hot bathroom. The move reminded her of the day Ian had scrubbed her…though she had to remember that that time in her life was over now. Ian was locked away in a mental hospital to find his sanity again. And she was home, free of her summer of obsession and folly and legal entanglements.

Though she was reminded of that odd moment with Ian, it was also very different. Even the season had changed. A late September hint of musk wafted through the open window into the bath; and it was her husband not a ‘loose cannon’ taking charge of her.

Standing in the middle of the bathroom, Reggie in his crisp white dress shirt and pleated slacks dried her dripping body with a warm soft towel. He took special care to dab the water from her face only to have to repeat the process when another stream of water drizzled down her forehead.

“How’s your ass?” he asked.

She’d just been whipped.

“Very sore,” she said, feeling the tightness in her punished cheeks.

“But you’re ready for more?” he inquired earnestly.

“More tonight?”

“More when I’m ready to have you.”

“Then I’m ready when you are,” she answered, remaining dutifully submissive—even though she could feel a flash of rebellious fire beginning to burn within her again.

He felt her ass and touched her chin and smiled seeing another drop of water run off her eyebrow to her lips. She licked it away.

Pulling her to him, Reggie ignored ‘impeccable form’ and let her wet body soak through to his skin.

“So, you’re going to whip my ass again tonight?” she asked curious.

Reggie took a moment to think of how they’d have sex that night. No, it wouldn’t be with whips and smacks and whimpers of anguish. There was a time for such things and a time for love. In the scheme of his relationship with Jocelyn, they required both. Of course, he’d wouldn’t tell her that yet. “I don’t know, I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he said to tease her.

“But you will love me,” she told him, her voice regaining a degree of sauciness she’d not had in some time. Since she’d been home she’d been picking up pieces of herself she thought she’d lost, and this one was especially comforting. It gave their marriage that certain edge that made it sizzle.

“Of course I’ll love you,” he replied, with eyes gleaming dangerously. “As long as you keep your rebellious soul tame tonight.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” she said with a playful smirk. “It’s all coming back to me.”

“Well then, I’ll guess I’ll have to love that, too,” he conceded. For good measure his hand was on her ass, and the gentle war between them was on the loose again.

“Then why don’t you love me now?” she said. It was late. They were aroused. In Jocelyn’s mind it was time to strip her husband of his wet clothes and head for bed.

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