Emily stared out the jet's window and could feel the dreariness of the clouds they were going through. How long does it take to get over a broken heart? Will it ever be whole or so scarred I won't be able to feel again? she wondered. The only thing that had gotten her through was writing. She loved erotica and after reading Fifty Shades of Grey, went through her collection of books...The Story of O, Delta of Venus, Emmanuelle...and what turned her on was BDSM, the sub...not being in control, pleasure in pain, being bound and enjoying her sexuality. As Emily read those erotic books, fantasies about having a Dom ran rampant through her head. She'd played around with BDSM in her younger days...days before Greg.
The idea had hit her...she could write a book, play out her fantasies through writing. After all, she could still conjure up those old feelings of how exciting the anticipation of being bound was and there was nothing else but enjoying what was being done to her. And, my God, when she was blindfolded and had no idea what was coming.
But right now Emily was angry at herself for calling Jackson, to tell him she was coming home for a while, and saying yes when he offered to pick her up from the airport. What was I thinking? she asked herself. Jackson had been her friend for over twelve years and during that time they had almost had sex on a couple of occasions. But she had always stopped it. There was something about him. Oh, sure, he was good looking in that blonde, bad boy sort of way. But looks were deceiving. He was almost too gentle, too kind and she knew he wouldn't keep her interest. So, not wanting to ruin their friendship, she'd always come to her senses and pushed him away.
Who was she kidding? There had been another problem. One or both of them had always been in a relationship with someone else. Now, they'd be in a car for several hours, driving from Denver Airport to Salida where they'd both grown up. Fortunately, she'd be staying with her parents and would be saved from any compromising situations. Last she'd heard he'd been living with an older woman there in a mansion he'd had built.
#
Once in the Jeep, Jackson gave Emily a charming smile. "You're looking good. So, what's up? What's brought you home?" he asked.
She looked down at her trembling hands. Something about him was making her nervous. Maybe she dreaded telling him her sordid story about getting dumped. "Thank you. You're looking pretty good yourself," she replied, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "I had to get away from Dallas. It's that...well, Greg and I aren't together anymore. I want to spend some time with mom and dad, see old friends. I was drowning in that newspaper job, so I quit and started writing a book."
Jackson gave her a sidelong glance. "What happened? Did you finally realize what a narcissistic asshole he is?"
"Ha! I think I figured that out a few years ago. But stubborn as I am, he had to hit me over the head with it. He dumped me for a girl fifteen years younger. No warning either. And naïve ol' Emily didn't suspect a thing."
"And all those times you turned me down because you were with good old boy, Greg," Jackson said with a snide grin. "You know, I knew you'd never really go for me. I knew I wasn't your type...that you'd always go for the abusive macho dudes. You wouldn't be able to handle a man who was good to you."
"Look, this isn't easy. Why in the hell are you saying those things? I'm a little wounded right now, okay? And vulnerable! What about you? What happened with the bimbo in Aspen. How did that work out for you?"
He let out a whistle then laughed. "Glad to see some things haven't changed. You always could kill with that tongue of yours. You know what happened? You told me you were coming back and after two years of waiting, after you were finally divorced, I decided to pack it up and get the hell out of Dodge. Then I'd heard you'd been living with another guy and that's why you'd finally gotten the nerve to leave Mark. I met Bridgette after I got to Aspen."
"Well, I went back to Salida and you were gone. I got the job in Dallas at the paper and met Greg. Why are we hashing this out all over again?"
Jackson shrugged. "Then let's stop. By the way, I'm not with Crystal anymore. Haven't been for almost a year."
"Why didn't you say something?" Emily asked, her mind whirling over the fact they had never been single at the same time, until now. He glanced at her and his green eyes were penetrating. Self-consciously she tucked a curly lock of cooper behind her ear.
"Why didn't you say something about Greg?"
"I don't know. Can we talk about something else, please?"
"Tell me about your book."
"Oh, Lord, this is really going to embarrass me. It's erotica." There was total silence. She glanced back at him to find a grin plastered across his face. "What? You think that's funny...sweet little Emily writing about sex?"
He shook his head. "Nope! And let me assure you, I have never thought of you as 'sweet little Emily'. Quite the contrary, you've got the eyes, my dear. The first time you looked up at me with that flirty bit you can't keep yourself from doing, I saw one hell of a kinky woman behind that ice queen façade of yours."
"Jackson Clayborn, you did not!"
"Think what you like, darlin'."
Suddenly, she wanted to tell him things. About how miserable and bored she'd been with Greg, about their sex life or lack of. She told him about her experiences with BDSM when she was really young. That she'd been putting her book online under a pen name. On and on she went, until realizing they were turning onto her parent's street.
"I'm sorry, Jackson. I didn't mean to bore you to death, but I've never felt like I could talk like this to anyone before. You probably think I'm awful, don't you?"
Stopping in front of the house, he looked into her stormy gray eyes. "I'm glad you could let your real self out. It doesn't matter what I think or anyone else thinks. I'm here for you if you need me." He got out and opened her door then got the luggage from the back of the Jeep.
On the porch, Jackson bent and gave her a small kiss and something odd happened. Emily's stomach knotted and her twat twitched. My God, I can't believe he still has that effect on me after all these years, she thought, as he quickly turned and began walking to his car. "Wait," Emily hollered and rushed to where he stood waiting. "Thank you!" She looked up flirtatiously, hoping he might give her another tiny kiss.
"Of course...glad to do it. You're one of my dear friends. I'll get in touch in a few days."
In a few days? Did he just say a few days? Dear friend? I have to do something. "Could I...would you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night?"
"You could and I would," he said with a grin.
"Then you'll call me tomorrow?"
He nodded, turned and went to the Jeep, leaving her standing there feeling like an idiot as she watched him drive away.
#
Emily was nervous as she got ready for her date with Jackson. Well, it's not really a date. We're just friends and nothing's ever going to happen between us, she kept telling herself. As she looked in the mirror one last time, she said aloud just as the doorbell rang, "Besides, he's right, I only fall for the assholes and he's way too nice."
Dressed in a suit and Armani silk tie, he walked her to the car and held the door open for her. "Do you mind if I pick where we go for dinner?" he asked with a sly grin.
Emily couldn't believe how devilishly handsome he looked and could only shake her head. She'd heard he'd made millions in oil and gas but had never thought about it until he'd escorted her to the Lamborghini. Is this the same Jackson I used to reject all the time? she asked herself as he drove towards the mountains.
After about thirty minutes, they pulled in front of a modern rambling home of different levels jutting from the mountain walls. He was getting out just as someone opened her door, startling her. She took the hand offered and stepped out onto the drive.
"Emily, this is Clifton Salyer. If you need anything he's your go to. Cliff is similar to a butler but more of a personal assistant."
She gave a small nod. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Salyer."
He smiled. "Cliff will be fine, Emily."
Once inside she looked around in amazement at the sprawling dwelling as she was led to the living room. "This is so beautiful, Jackson. I had no idea."
He gestured with his arm. "Tonight this is all yours. Your wish is my command. You can't believe how many times I've imagined you here. Please, sit wherever you feel comfortable. A cocktail...glass of wine? I'm having a martini...just a tad dirty."
For some reason, she was getting a knot in her stomach...the way he said 'a tad dirty' and she could feel herself blushing. "Then that's what I'll have." She settled on the plush couch and he sat next to her. Within minutes, Cliff arrived with their martinis followed by an older woman in a black uniform, balancing two large trays filled with hors d'oeuvres.
The first drink loosened her up a bit as they told stories, laughing at each other and themselves. Before she knew it, one had turned into three and she set her glass on the large coffee table, feeling a little tipsy. Then suddenly it was quiet except for soft music in the background as Jackson set his glass down, almost at the same instant, and locked eyes with hers then leaned in and gave her a small kiss.
It happened again, that fluttery feeling in her stomach. Then his lips were devouring hers and a small moan escaped her mouth as her arms went around his neck. His kisses grew more passionate, his tongue probing and she felt her body, with a life of its own, start to undulate beneath him as he ever-so-gently leaned her back against the cushions and pressed his torso into hers.
Emily could hear her heart pounding, feel her twat twitching, her womb begging to be filled as a hand went to one breast, found her nipple and gave a small pinch. Her body jerked in response as she began vibrating and couldn't quit moaning. All at once, he stopped and sat up straight, looking down at her with a smug grin.
"Remember all those times you said, 'no', all the times you turned me away? Me thinks the lady did protest too much."
"Fuck you, Jackson," she retorted, doing her best to try stand up, her legs so weak she was afraid they'd go out from under her.
"That's exactly my intention, little one." He stood and held out his hand. "Come with me. I have something I'd like to show you."
Grudgingly, she took it and let him lead her through the house and down a long hallway. He stopped in front of a locked door and took out a key. "I've been reading your book today," he said, unlocking the door and letting her walk in ahead of him.
This can't be, her mind whirled. It's almost identical to the one I wrote about. She turned and stared at him, confusion written across her beautiful face. "I don't understand...what, how?" she stuttered.
He shrugged. "All those years of knowing how damn kinky you are. I remembered seeing the books you read. We'd talked about some of the movies. But you always thought of me as the nice guy, too kind and gentle to be interested in your type of sex fantasies. Yet all the while, I knew we were made of the same stuff, were of the same sensual matter. What you never got was that assholes are just that. They're in it for themselves only. It takes kindness and compassion from a Dom to make his sub feel comfortable enough to trust him and know he would never really hurt her."
"But this room?"
"I built it for you. I always knew you'd eventually be here," he said, closing and locking the door. "Come here, Emily."
She shook her head and took a couple of steps back.
"Tell me you don't want me. Tell me you're not so wet you could feel it as you walked. I could have taken you there on the couch and you would have begged me to."
Emily hung her head, not knowing what to say as he advanced towards her. Afraid he'd go away, afraid of her own desires.
His body now inches from hers, he tilted her head up. "Look at me," he ordered. Her eyes lifted to his and he held them as his mouth came down possessively over hers and she was lost. Her body trembled as his hands roamed over her, one going between her legs and she had to hold onto him to keep from falling. She was panting now and the word 'please' escaped her lips.
"Please what? Please fuck me? Please tie me up? Please make me scream in ecstasy?"
All she could do was nod and he began slowly removing her clothes until she stood there nude in front of him. He took her hands in his, led her to a four-poster bed and told her to lie down. She obeyed, the feeling of anticipation making her lightheaded and it hard to catch her breath.
"Tell me you always wanted to be a sex slave. I want to hear you say the words."
She closed her eyes. "I've always wanted to be a sex slave. Please," she begged and felt her arms being pulled over her head and bound in the leather cuffs attached to each post. Next a blindfold was put snuggly over her eyes, and she couldn't see as her legs were stretched apart or her ankles put into cuffs. She had no thoughts, just the sensation of being spread eagle and the anticipation of what this man was going to do to her. This man she'd rejected so many times.
"I've waited for this for a long time. You know I want to punish you, don't you?" Jackson asked with a tone of satisfaction in his voice as his hands tugged and pinched on her nipples and he watched as her body jerked in response, her hips rising, pleading for her cunt to be filled.
"Yes," she whispered.
"And you want me to punish you. Tell me." His hand went between the lips of her vagina and she could feel fingers going inside her. "God, you're oozing, little one. Tell me you want me to punish you or I'm not going to let you come."
Emily could hear him undressing...the sound of his tie being slid through the collar, footsteps and the jacket shucked, the noise of coat hangers, the buckle of his belt. She was so aroused listening to him, all she could think about was his body pressed against hers.
"Do you want me, little one?" he asked softly, going back to the bed.
She could feel her own wetness and the swelling of her clit as she pulled against the restraints, wanting desperately now to be able to reach up and pull him down on top of her, to feel his manhood against her. She was damp and her entire body felt on fire. "Yes, please, Jackson. Please, please," she begged.
She felt the mattress sag as he sat on the bed and a hand went tenderly around her throat. "Perhaps you should call me Master. Will you wear a collar for me?"
His fingers tightened slightly and she gasped as electricity shot through her and her hips rose up again, begging for him. "Yes...Jacks...Master. I'll do anything. Please, I want you." He leaned over and kissed her, his hand still around her neck and she thought she'd go mad with desire as his tongue probed her mouth. But something was wrong. He still had his shirt on and she could feel the belt buckle around his waist, dangling against her stomach.
He raised his head and whispered, "Do you want me as much as I wanted you each time you rejected me...each time you played the prick teaser...each time you left me unfulfilled, wanting you even more?"
"Yes, even more than that." Her body had a life of its own, undulating, tugging on the cuffs. She needed him, his hands, his dick, his thigh...anything to rub against to get release.
He removed his hand, letting it trail over her writhing body when his soft laugh startled her. Silently, he removed the blindfold and stared down into her imploring eyes. Brushing away a copper tress clinging to her damp check, a smile lit his face. "Then that will be your punishment, little one. To suffer as I have." He stood and took off the cuffs. "You're free to go."
The irony hit her and she was seized with anger. "You bastard! You've waited and planned all these years for this, haven't you?"
"Haven't you?" he asked, as their eyes locked.
A smile tilted the corners of her mouth. "Let the games begin."