Three and a Half Weeks (15 page)

The man says nothing but efficiently removes the item requested, handing it to Ian. I sneak a peek, trying to figure out what it is. It’s sterling silver and it’s thicker on one side but the narrow side ends in a wider piece and is surrounded by those gemstones. I’m not sure but I think it goes up a person’s butt so the gemstones stick out—jewelry for the ass is taking the whole concept of adornment a bit far, in my opinion.

While I’m keeping my eyes down, Ian buys some other things. I don’t even want to look anymore: I’m so ready to leave. After he pays for the items he’s selected, he asks for the use of a private room and the redhead ushers us through yet another door. I feel as if each door sends me into an alternate universe. Now Ian and I are alone in a small red and purple room with a huge gilded mirror and an antique plush-velvet couch.

He sits on the couch. “Ella, come here. This,” he holds up the silver thing, “has been sterilized—I just watched the salesman do it. I’m going to put lubrication on it and insert it in you. I want you to wear it until we get back to the hotel. Any questions?”

“Just one. Where are you going to insert it exactly?”

“In your pretty little hindquarters.”

“I don’t think so, Ian.”

“You agreed to play with me tonight: my way, my rules. Leave everything to me. Now turn around, bend over, and grasp your ankles. It will only take a few seconds.”

I stand there, chewing my lip. I did agree to play tonight but I didn’t know playing involved sticking things up my butt. However, what’s the big deal? I’ll try it and if I don’t like it, then I’ll remove it. No big whup. I spin around and bend over, trying not to dwell on what I must look like in this position.

I feel him pull my dress over my back and hear him opening a package. Then something trespasses in a place that should be entirely private. It’s his finger. He pushes it in and out a few times and then I feel something cold and heavy start to slide in. “Push against me, Ella, and it will be easier.”

I do and it goes in slowly and uncomfortably. After a protracted moment, he pulls my dress back down and adjusts it. “All done.”

I stand up and turn around and as soon as I move, the plug shifts and sends all kind of strange sensations through me. Ian sees the look on my face and smiles. He knows what I’m feeling—which is precisely why he wanted it there. He’s going to drive me insane with need before he slakes the thirst.

“Where’s yours?”

“Mine?”

“Don’t you get anything up your ass?” I ask sweetly.

“Not tonight,” he grins. “Just you. Do you want to see how pretty it looks?”

Shaking my head, I say, “Not particularly. I can feel how pretty it looks—those gemstones are not the most comfortable thing, you know.”

His eyes sparkle with evil intent. “Wait until you sit on them.”

“Something to look forward to, I guess. Now what?”

“Now,” he says rising to his feet, “we go out for dinner.” He kisses my nose.

I knew it. I’m not going to get any satisfaction for hours and by the time we get back to our hotel, I’ll probably let him do anything he wants—and he’s counting on that, the Machiavellian bastard. I just know it.

It’s bad enough that I have no panties on, but when you add a short dress and a butt plug to the mix, it makes for one uncomfortable Ella. Ian takes us to an elegant French restaurant on the Upper East Side that serves dinner until eleven. We just make it in by 10:30.

“A little late for dinner, don’t you think?”

“This is the city that never sleeps, Ella. When in Rome…”

“We’re not in Rome,” I say grumpily—those gemstones are starting to smart.

All through dinner, he pays constant attention to me: hanging on my every word, smiling, winking, and oozing charm in general. He also touches me quite a lot, his fingers brushing across my shoulder or the middle of my thigh. At one point he places his hand on the small of my back, almost on my ass but not quite. I’m sitting on the plug—carefully—and it’s becoming excessively uncomfortable, despite my frequent squirming to make it less so. By midnight, I’m more than ready to get back to our hotel downtown and deal with it all.

We get into another taxi but Ian doesn’t give him our hotel address. To my consternation, he takes us to a club. I look at him questioningly, my disappointment surely on my face.

“An after-dinner drink, Ella. Then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Why can’t we have the drink at the hotel bar?” My voice sounds whiny.

“You’ll see. Let’s go.”

He leads me into the club that’s literally wall-to-wall people: there’s barely room to move through them to the bar. After about twenty minutes we finally get there and Ian orders two scotches, neat and straight up. “I’m drinking scotch?” I ask.

“Apparently.” He lifts one glass to my lips, offering me a sip and then we go in search of a place to land. Of course there are no tables available but we find a piece of a wall we can claim that has a shelf nearby for our drinks. Ian puts his arm around me and pulls me close.

“Now,” he says, “you wanted to know why we couldn’t go to the hotel bar? I’ll show you.” I feel his hand go right up my dress and he starts finger fucking me right there in full view of everyone. I whip my head around, horrified, but no one seems to be paying us any attention. The room is dark, crowded, and loud with voices and music. My knees have just about gone out on me. Between Ian’s fingers and that damn butt plug, I’m seconds away from an orgasm. He knows it too because just as things start to contract, he stops completely, taking back his hand and kissing me deeply as I feel my climax melt away entirely. I can’t help it: I stomp my foot.

“That was mean!”

“I’ll make it up to you soon, Ella. Just hold on a bit longer.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to come here, with all these people around you?”

“Right now I don’t give much of a damn. But you know that, Ian, since you’re the one doing it to me.”

His hand goes back up my dress but this time he starts pulling on the plug, inching it out and then back in and twisting it back and forth. With the same hand, he slides his thumb into me in front. It should be obviously apparent to others around us as to what we’re doing since he has to bend his knees to put his hand up my dress… but the idea that people may be watching does not horrify me as it should. What is wrong with me? When my eyes are locked with Ian’s, the whole world recedes into the background like a blurry photo of a crowd. My knees buckle again and I lean my head on his shoulder. Just as I move into the orgasm, he stops again.

Okay, fine! Two can play at the same game. Without caring if anyone can see, I put my hand over his crotch and start rubbing it in earnest. He smiles and remains perfectly composed. How the fuck does he do that? I’m never going to win with him as my opponent. Ever.

Nevertheless I keep it up (excuse the pun). When I feel him get even harder than he was already, I stop and wait a few moments. Then I start up again. While I’m rubbing him, I kiss his throat, lick his ear, suck his earlobe, and finally bite his neck—hard. As soon as he feels my teeth sink into his flesh, his eyelids flutter closed for a brief moment, and then he grabs my hand, roughly leading me out of the club and right into a waiting taxi. I can’t help but smile.

After giving the driver the address of the hotel, he leans back and looks at me. Seeing my triumphant grin, he merely raises a brow. “Battle conceded, war still up for grabs,” he says as his hand goes back up my dress.

Despite heavy Saturday night traffic, they get back to the hotel in ten minutes. Ian had his hand up her dress for the whole ride—inching her inexorably to the cliff edge and then easing her back—and she is seconds away from coming when the taxi pulls in front of the hotel. As they wait for the elevator, Ian sees Ella’s face is flushed and her eyes are bright and shining.

“Have I ever told you that you’d look beautiful in silks?” he asks, as soon as he closes their room door behind him. He slides off the black leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder and begins to remove the items he purchased from
Get your Kinks.
Ella is watching, mesmerized, as he pulls out the long silky scarf-like binds, the blindfold, clamps, and butterfly vibrator—he remembered she liked that the first time he used it on her.

When he finishes taking the items out, she catches his eyes and slowly raises the hem of her dress higher and higher until it goes over her head. She’s practically naked now, since he deprived her of any underwear. She’s wearing only her thigh-high black silk stockings, the new collar, her kick-ass shoes, and the bejeweled butt plug. She looks ridiculously sexy, Ian thinks, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight. He shifts his hips, trying for a more comfortable position.

“I do wish you were wearing a tie tonight, Ian, so I can lead you to the bed by it. I always wanted to do that to a tall, dark, and handsome stranger. You fit the bill.”

He smiles, going for a rakish look. “I’ll put one on if it means that much to you, baby.”

She eyes him up and down and he thinks she likes his attire by the hungry look in her eyes—or is she focused only on what’s underneath? Though he took time in selecting the clothes he’d worn tonight—black tailored pants, a charcoal silk shirt, and a black cashmere cardigan, his prized accessory is the one causing the trouser tent in the front of his pants.

Stalking towards him, her head tilted down in a predatory fashion, she replies. “Not strictly necessary. I can improvise.” She reaches him and grabs his collar with both hands, yanking him with her as she steps backward toward the fluffy white bed. Apparently she doesn’t intend to let him continue with the program, if she could help it. Ian, however, has other plans.

“As I said, you will look so very good in silks, Ella. So indulge me,” he gently removes her hands and steps back over to his goodies, grabbing the silky scarves.

He sits on the edge of the bed and pats the mattress next to him. “Come here.” She immediately moves to him and he kisses her, long and hard, holding her head to his so she cannot move. “Lie down in the center of the bed.” His voice has quickly slid fro
m seductive lover to demanding Dominant with no segue. The unpredictability is intentional: it will keep her off balance.

Playing nice, she does as he asked. Ian takes a moment to admire the scene: enfolded in the downy comforter, the contrast of her long, dark hair, black stockings and shoes, and kohl-rimmed eyes against the crisp white is visually alluring. Again, he has to adjust his pants. He takes the first scarf and ties it to her right wrist, checking to make sure it’s not too tight. Drawing her right knee up, he ties her ankle to the long end of the wrist cuff. “It’s really too bad that hotel beds have nothing to lash these to, but I’m a determined man.”

Ian repeats the process on her left side so her arms and legs are bound together but not lashed to the bed. She tests the binds by closing her legs and looks satisfied at her relative freedom of movement. He picks up a third scarf and his lips stretch into a wicked grin. He ties one end to her right cuff and then runs the scarf under the mattress to the other side, where he ties it to the other. Now she can’t move, nor close her legs. She’s at his complete mercy.

“Okay?” he asks.

She nods, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. Perfect: a little apprehension will only enhance the experience for them both. Ian reaches into his pocket and then crawls on the bed with one knee, leaning between her legs. “Now, I will allow you to come anytime or as much as you want, Ella, but you may not move an inch or make any noise whatsoever,” he warns as he places three cobalt blue marbles on her belly, in a straight line. One immediately sinks into her navel. “I will not appreciate it if you make me lose my marbles. Are we clear?”

“I’m afraid that ship has
long since sailed,” she says with a breathy laugh. “What happens if the marbles roll off?”

Shaking his head and tsk tsking, he says, “You don’t want to know. Trust me—it will be ugly.”

“How ugly?”

“Hmmm, let’s see. Spanking? Perhaps. Tickling? Almost definitely. Orgasm denial? Without a doubt. Giant
anal plug? Possibly. I might even give you another go at it if you lose a marble or two but if I do permit that generosity, you will get nipple clamps first. Then if one or two marbles slip, it will earn you a tug on the clamp chain. Let’s just see how it goes, shall we?”

With that comment his head dips down between her legs and his tongue begins a relentless, unerring torment. Two of the marbles slide off almost immediately.

His head comes up; he attempts an expression of profound disappointment while trying hard to mask his amusement. “Oh, Ella. You didn’t even last a few seconds. Is that really the best you can do?”

“Just so we’re clear, Ian, I want you to know that I plan to murder you in the most painful way possible as soon as you untie my hands and legs. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He wags his finger back and forth. “Eh, eh, eh, you do not have permission to speak.” He gets up and retrieves another item from the pile on the table. “I’m going to choose to be generous and give you another chance.”

He takes her right breast into his mouth and sucks so hard she gasps sharply. When he pulls away, he replaces his mouth with the clamp. It stings but it’s not too bad—that is, until he tightens it beyond endurance.

“Ow! That really hurts!”

“Take a few deep breaths and it will subside.” His voice is confident and reassuring. He does the same with her other breast. Running down from each clamp is a delicate silver chain and the two connect together into one chain—a leash of sorts—that dangles down past her belly.

“Ready to try again?”

She whimpers. “I’m going to lose them again; I know it. Damn it, Ian: do you think you could do it? It’s damn near impossible.”

“Control, Ella. You need to work on maintaining better control.”

When his head dips down again, she stops him. “Wait. What do I win if I
manage to keep the marbles still?”

“You get a big—giant, really—and hard… kiss.” He pauses for a long beat. “…as I fuck you into next week.” And he begins again.

Motivation. This time she manages to keep still for a little while but not silent. Far from it: does she even realize she’s moaning loudly the whole time? Ian can’t help but smile against her flesh. He stops to unzip his pants and put on a condom and then leans in to continue.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I want to see you naked. It’s only fair,” comes her husky voice and she picks up her head, expecting him to comply and to watch him undress.

Fair enough. He straightens and removes his shoes by pushing one off with his other and kicking them away. Unbuttoning his shirt, he keeps his eyes on hers the whole time, enjoying how they seem to darken as the pupils dilate with her excitement. It’s proof she finds him as attractive as he finds her, and it strokes his ego. When he’s entirely naked but for the condom, he slides back down between her legs to give her that long awaited orgasm. She earned it and fair is fair.

The marbles stay on her abdomen until the top of her climax when they come rolling off as her hips jerk up into the air as high as the restraints will allow her to move. As promised, he jerks the chain attached to the clamps and is rewarded with a high-pitched shriek. The slight bit of erotic pain will only enhance her orgasm, whether she knows it or not. He continues tonguing her until the last spasm and then in one fluid motion pulls up and pushes deeply into her. The plug makes it an extremely tight fit, plus she can’t move much at all and that sense of helplessness combined with the extra friction sends her over the cliff and she comes again within seconds. The clench of it is so strong that she almost takes him with her, but he
manages to pull back in time so he could keep going. He waited all night for this ride and he’s going to make it last.

Sounding excited—almost desperate, Ella cries out, “Ian, I want to touch you; unbind me please.”

“How much, baby? How much do you want to touch me? Tell me,” he says in a voice deeper and huskier than usual.

She whimpers. “Please, I want to hold you… so very much.”

“That much, huh? Enough to turn down the job with Lucien Phillips?”

She looks at him, startled, and they both freeze. It’s an awkward time for this discussion but he needs to make her understand how he feels. What better way to have her complete attention?

“What? Are you kidding?”

He shakes his head very slowly, his eyes boring into hers. “No, baby, no jokes tonight. What will it take for you to turn down the job?”

“I…”

He swivels his hips then swings them back slowly before driving into her forcefully. Her eyes begin to glaze over as lust replaces confusion. Leaning his head close to hers, Ian whispers into her ear. “You’re mine, sexy Ella, all mine. Turn down the job.”

It’s the last thing she hears before her world contracts and explodes in an incredible orgasm.