12 Shades Of Surrender: Bound

“Surely he’s done this to you before,” Daniel said.

“He has … on special occasions.”

Daniel pried her knees apart. “Consider this a special occasion. Now are you intimidated?”

Eleanor took a deep breath. “Yeah. Happy?”

“Very.”

She took another breath and stared blankly at the ceiling. She flinched at Daniel’s first touch. “Sorry. That stuff is cold.”

“I know. But it’s necessary. Just relax.”

“The guy always says relax. Would you be relaxed if someone were about to stick their whole hand in you?”

“I can’t say I would be relaxed, but I’m quite certain I wouldn’t be argumentative.”

“Point taken.”

Daniel stopped touching her. “Close your eyes,” he ordered softly. “Just breathe in and out. Tell me if anything hurts.”

She nodded but didn’t answer. She began to breathe slowly—in … then out, in … then out. She could do this, had done this. If she was being honest she’d even admit that she loved this.

Daniel’s fingers returned to her. He pressed her outer lips apart with his left hand while he pushed two fingers from his right hand deep inside her. Eleanor kept breathing. She’d learned the secret. She knew she couldn’t allow herself to become too aroused. The vaginal muscles tightened when aroused. She had to stay calm, empty herself, let him completely in, push nothing but fear out. The perfect passive act for a true submissive.

Inside her Daniel made slow spirals with his hand … spiraling outward pressing against her inner walls, opening her until three then four fingers were inside her.

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked, gentle concern in his voice.

“Very okay.”

“Are you ready?” She didn’t have to ask him ready for what….

“Yes.”

If the four fingers filled her, it was nothing compared to the sensation of his whole hand, his whole fist inside her. Her calm broke for a moment and she gasped at how he now filled her. She spread her thighs wider, pressed hard into his hand. She felt her own fluid cool and slick on her thighs.

Daniel barely moved. He didn’t need to. Eleanor writhed around his hand, her body torn between the twin needs to push him out or pull him in deeper and deeper.

She leaned up and gripped her own knees. For the first time she looked down and saw Daniel’s wrist deep inside her. She collapsed on her back, lifted her hips and orgasmed so fiercely even Daniel gasped.

As she panted, he pulled gingerly out of her. He used the corner of the towel underneath her to dry his hand. He rolled her onto her stomach, Eleanor limp as a rag doll. She felt the cold liquid on her again, this time inside her ass. Then it was Daniel inside her thrusting hungrily. She was too tired to enjoy it. She merely waited patiently underneath him as he used her for his own pleasure and spent himself inside her once and then again when once proved inadequate to sate his appetite for her.

Finally they lay naked, near each other, sore and tired and smiling.

“I was thinking,” Eleanor said turning to drape herself over Daniel’s chest.

“Always a dangerous pursuit … what were you thinking?”

“Your wife. I know she died of cancer but still—”

“Still what?”

“I kind of envy her.”

Eleanor spent the next three days in a haze of sex and books and happiness. There was no room of the house they did not christen; there was nothing they were afraid or unwilling to do to each other. The fog grew so thick that Eleanor had to keep reminding herself what day it was and how long she’d been there. Arrived on Saturday, today was Wednesday, leave on Friday … leave on Friday.

Wednesday night Daniel came for her and brought her back to his bedroom. He stripped her naked and left her standing by the bedpost. She relaxed and breathed knowing exactly what was coming.

“Tell me your safe word, Eleanor,” Daniel commanded as he yanked her arms behind her back, bent her over the bed, and put bondage cuffs on each wrist.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Do your worst. You won’t hear it.”

“Arrogant, aren’t we?”

“Not arrogant at all,” she countered. “Just very well-trained, sir.”

He pulled her up to her feet and chained her arms high over her head to the bedpost. The first blows of the flogger landed on her back softly. Daniel was well-trained too. A long hard beating was always prefaced by a gentle one to desensitize the skin. Breathing in and out slowly, she let the pain wash over her as she’d been trained to do. The pressure intensified, the pain grew. Daniel paused only long enough to penetrate her from behind with short hard thrusts. He came on her thighs, pulled roughly out of her, picked up the flogger, and beat her again.

An hour later he finally released her and let her fall to the floor. He was everywhere with vicious hands and probing fingers. He bit at her neck and breasts and thrust until she nearly cried from the mix of pleasure and pain. She felt Daniel coming more and more back to life every time he took her. Pushing her onto her stomach, he forced himself into her again. Her thighs were wet as his fluid mingled with hers. Her back burned with welts. Underneath him, pinned to the floor, a part of her wanted to stay there forever.

An hour … three hours later … she lost track of time. She forgot her name, forgot where she was … and most dangerously forgot momentarily who she belonged to. Bucking her hips hard into Daniel’s, Eleanor came so hard he gasped from the intensity of the muscle contractions that gripped him like a hand. When Daniel came, it was with a force that tore into her stomach and sent her calling out his name. For a long time after they lay tangled together, Daniel still inside her.

She lay in his arms and tried not to say what she knew needed said.

“I leave Friday morning.” It wasn’t a reminder or a taunt. She just had to say it to remember it was true.

“Friday,” Daniel said, leaning over her to blow out the two candles that burned on the bedside table. A clear signal that it was time for sleep. “Still time.”

Daniel eased into the covers and pulled Eleanor close to him.

“Time for what?” she asked, already half asleep.

“Time to change your mind.”

Daniel and Eleanor spent the next morning finishing his library. All the books had been recoded and properly shelved. The work progressed quickly as, for once, Eleanor toiled in silence. She couldn’t get Daniel’s words out of her mind. He wanted her to stay with him … here in his exquisite prison. It was unthinkable. She belonged to someone else, belonged to him like her heart belonged to her chest. She would no more leave him than she would amputate her own arm. Unthinkable … and yet, she was thinking about it.

“Want to break for lunch?” Daniel asked shortly after one.

Eleanor didn’t answer.

“Elle? Eleanor?”

She exhaled slowly. “Seven-day loan, remember?”

“What was that?”

Eleanor turned to face him. “Seven-day loan. That was the deal.”

Daniel nodded, but it was clear he wasn’t quite nodding in agreement.

“That was the deal. The deal can change.”

“No. It can’t,” Eleanor said, suddenly angry. “It’s not a joke. I’m not a library book. I’m not a part of the permanent collection.”

Daniel said nothing for a long time. “You could be.”

Eleanor just shook her head. “I can’t believe this. You’re his friend and I’m his everything and you’re doing this.” She left the library and kept going down the hallway, stopping only to grab her coat. She was out the door and in the snow. She headed down the long winding driveway. Soon she heard footsteps behind her.

“Eleanor, get back in the house.”

“You get back in the house. It’s your goddamn prison. Not mine.” She kept walking. It was cold out but she was too upset to notice or care.

“You’re in a jacket and jeans and it’s twenty-five degrees out.”

“Well, you should have thought of that before you asked me to stay.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever.” They were nearly to the edge of the long driveway. “I’m not the one running away.”

Eleanor turned around and stopped. She was at the end of the drive. Two steps back and she would be off his property and in the road.

“No. You’re not running away. You’re not running or walking or strolling or going anywhere. You’re staying and rotting and hiding. And there’s not much you and I haven’t done together this week, but I will not do that with you.”

Daniel took a step toward her. Just one but she took another step back.

“Eleanor.” Daniel’s voice was calm, controlled. He sounded like a jockey trying to gentle a spooked horse. “We can talk about this. Nothing has to be decided today. Just come in out of the cold. I’m cold, too, and I’m never cold. I know you have to be freezing. Come inside.”

Eleanor only looked at him. Even so angry at him, and cold and scared, she couldn’t deny he was breathtakingly handsome. Grief had left its mark on him. His eyes were haunted and his body lean and cold … like granite. She knew about granite, how you could build on it or be broken on it.

Still without a word she took the last steps back off his property.

“If you want me back in the house, come and get me.” She wasn’t mocking him. All she wanted was to help him.

“Don’t do this to me.” Daniel looked at her so gently that she was instantly ashamed of herself. But still she didn’t budge.

“You’re doing this to me,” she countered. “I love him with all that I am and you’re asking me to let that go, to leave him. I won’t do it. I can’t do it. I love him as much as you loved her. More maybe because if he died I would live like he would have wanted me to and not like some hermit in a cave.”

“Then just say ‘no’ to me. Let me ask you to stay and just tell me ‘no.’ No frostbite or theatrics required.”

“I can’t let you ask me,” she said.

Daniel took a half step toward her.

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said looking down at the snow that caked her shoes like white icing. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to say ‘no.’”

“Why not?” Daniel asked again as he inched another minuscule step forward.

“Who he is and what he is …” she paused and tears flooded her eyes. “Every single second I spend with him I have to steal. I sleep in his bed and know there’s no place in the world I’d rather be but it’s the last place in the world I should be. I get Saturday nights with him, sometimes a Thursday night if I’m lucky. But never the mornings. What I wouldn’t give for a Wednesday or a Sunday morning …”

“You’re in love with a priest, Eleanor. What did you expect?”

“Not to be in love with a priest for starters,” Eleanor said, half laughing, half crying. “Every morning this week you’ve made love to me. You’re all mornings and afternoons and evenings and I didn’t have to steal a single second of it. You just have them all to give. So if you ask me to stay … Please, Daniel, don’t ask me to stay.”

When Daniel nodded, it was in agreement this time.

“The only thing I’ll ask is that you come back inside with me.” He was still on his property but when he reached out his hand it crossed over to her side. She took it and hated how good her small cold fingers felt wrapped up in his warm large hand. She hated it but didn’t let go until they were back inside.

Daniel let go of her hand but only so he could take her by the shoulders and pull her to him. He kissed her and undressed her at the same time. She was pinned to the front door before she knew it.

“I’ll let you leave,” he said into her ear as he lifted her by her thighs and pushed his cock into her. “But I’ll make sure you miss me.”

He was relentless. Eleanor gripped his shoulders. He was still dressed. Only she was naked and spread out against the unforgiving front door. Only she was taking and taking as he was giving more and more of himself each time he pushed into her: she took his need, his sorrow, his determination to keep her, his anger that he couldn’t, his fingers on her clitoris, and finally his cum that poured into her as she shuddered from the orgasm that he’d also given her.

Eleanor wrapped her arms around Daniel’s neck as he lowered her feet to the cold floor. She leaned into him and inhaled his scent—warm and clean with the slightest hint of fireplace smoke—and committed it to memory.

“Don’t worry,” she said, finally letting him go. “I miss you already.”

Eleanor and Daniel lay in bed Thursday night, their last night, with their arms and legs wrapped around each other so that it was nearly impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Tomorrow morning the car would come for Eleanor and take her back to the outside world and to him who she missed with every other breath and cursed with every breath in between.

“What will you do after I’m gone?” Eleanor asked, not knowing how else to keep avoiding the topic.

“What do you think I should do?” Daniel asked as he pulled Eleanor even closer than she already was.

“I don’t know. You’ve got money, no job, and it’s fucking freezing outside. Go to Tierra del Fuego or something. I hear it’s nice this time of year.”

Daniel laughed and the movement of his chest from the laugh against her back nearly sent her reeling again. Could he stop being sexy for one moment? “Tierra del Fuego is nearly the southernmost tip of South America, a stone’s throw from Antarctica. It snows there in summer.”

“Wow. Anyway, you should be used to all that cold. I bet it’s pretty there.”

“Yes, I imagine it is. The natives burned fires constantly to ward off the cold—hence the name Land of Fire.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“Librarian, remember?”

“I keep forgetting.” She reached between his legs and stroked him. “I’m really going to have to renew my library card when I get back.”

“You should,” Daniel said pressing her onto her back and sliding into her. “Watch out for those overdue fines.”

Eleanor laughed softly as she wrapped a leg over Daniel’s back to coax him in even further. “Oh, I think I can afford them.”

Morning came too early for both of them. Eleanor awoke with her stomach pressed to the mattress and Daniel inside her, gently thrusting. He was too desperate for her to even wait for her to wake up on her own. They made love in silence, mute from the pain of having to part too soon.

Daniel pulled out of her at last with a reluctance they both felt. He ran a hot bath for her and with soap and his bare hands washed all traces of himself off and out of her. Eleanor shivered in the water despite its near scalding temperature. She would have preferred to have gone home dirty from him, stained and marked by him. She was grateful for the few black bruises he’d left on her back and inner thighs and the bite marks on her neck and breasts. She knew in a day or two this strange week with him would fade like a morning dream. She needed the marks to remind her it had happened—Daniel was real and she was more than just a seven-day loan. She had belonged to him. She had.

Daniel packed her things while she dried her hair and dressed. She felt odd letting Daniel pack up her stuff but she let him without any protest. She knew that he needed to feel in control of the situation, that her departure this morning was as much his doing as hers.

Eleanor had just finished taming her hair when Daniel came for her. His voice was low and steady, his eyes quiet. “The car’s here.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and gathered her coat and gloves. Side by side they walked in silence down the hallway, down the steps and to the front door. Eleanor reached for the door handle but Daniel stopped her with a hand on tops of hers.

“Daniel, I have—”

“Call me ‘sir.’ One more time at least.”

Eleanor met his eyes and saw them stricken. She felt something hard in the back of her throat. She tried to swallow it but couldn’t.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

Daniel closed his eyes and opened them again slowly.

“I won’t ask you to stay,” he said. Eleanor could barely look at him although there was nothing more she wanted to do than memorize every line and angle of his face. “But I want to.”

She inhaled sharply and forced a smile.

“I won’t say ‘yes’ if you do ask … but I want to.”

Daniel smiled back and that smile broke her heart more than any tears ever could.

“Go. Go back to him before I change my mind and keep you here forever.”

“He’d come for me, you know.”

“I do know. That’s the only reason I won’t try.”

Daniel took his hand away from hers and let her open the door. The driver got out and put her bags in the trunk. He held the door open for her and she slipped inside. The driver got behind the wheel as Eleanor rolled the tinted window down.

“I won’t ever see you again, will I?” she asked.

“Not unless you leave him.”

“I won’t,” she said with merciless certainty. “But maybe,” she glanced up at the great house looming behind him, “maybe someday you’ll leave her.”

Daniel nodded. “Maybe … Goodbye, Eleanor. Be good.”

She gave him her most wicked grin.

“Yes, sir.”

The car pulled away and headed slowly down the drive. Eleanor closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold glass of the window. She would not look back at him. She knew he would still be there on the steps of the house watching her leave him, watching despite the cold, watching until every sign of her had shrunk into the distance and disappeared. That’s where he was. She didn’t have to look back. She just knew it.

Eyes still closed, she felt the car turn left out of the driveway and slam to a sudden stop.

“What the—” Eleanor threw open her eyes and leaned forward. Standing in front of the car in the middle of the road and completely off his property was Daniel. She wrenched the car door open and ran to him.

“Daniel … oh my god … you’re—”

“I lied,” he said reaching for her. “I will ask you to stay. I will and I am. I’m begging you to stay. I need you.”

He kissed and she kissed back, too startled to move, too moved to speak.

She finally pulled away from him.

“Daniel, you did it. You left your house, the property. I can’t believe it.”

Daniel looked at the house in the near distance and laughed as if just now realizing what he’d done.

“This just shows how much I need you. I haven’t stepped foot off the property in over three years but for you … here I am.”

Eleanor held him just a moment longer, pressed her face to his neck and inhaled that scent that was him and only him. And in that one moment longer she saw their life together—the days among books, the nights wrapped around each other, the mornings for anything they wanted … and they would never have to be apart and there would never be another second of waiting for a door to open just enough for her to slip inside without anyone knowing … she could be Daniel’s and Daniel could be hers and all she had to do was say ‘yes.’

“No,” she said and let him go.

“What? No what?” Daniel looked utterly stricken.

“If you were still in there, in your fortress, then I would know how much you needed me. That you’re here, you’re free … it’s proof that you don’t need me at all.”

“Eleanor. Please.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said backing away to return to the car. “I know it won’t help anything but you should know … only leaving him would ever hurt more than this.”

She looked at him one last time before slipping back into the car and saying one terrible word—”Drive.”

The car started forward again and this time nothing and no one tried to stop it.

Three months later …

She was seeing him tonight, all night. The knowledge of twelve uninterrupted hours with him left her dancing through her day. She danced home from work at eight and dropped her bag full of library books on her kitchen table. She would shower and change and in one hour, nine on the dot, she would be his, completely his all night long.

“Ellie?” her mother’s voice called out from behind a closed bedroom door. “You’ve got mail. On your bed.”

“Thanks!” she called back and danced to her room, not curious in the least what bit of junk mail was waiting for her. She glanced at the bed and saw a postcard on the corner of her quilt. She picked it up. On the front was a photo of mountains, snow-tipped and verdant. Now curious enough to care she flipped the card over and read …

Tierra del Fuego is actually quite lovely this time of year. Say hello to Astor and Lenox for me. Love.

It wasn’t signed. Only “Love” and nothing else. But it didn’t need a signature. Daniel … she couldn’t believe he’d actually gone and left his home—gone even to the ends of the earth. The lingering guilt at leaving him so abruptly disappeared at last. He was fine and even more he was free.

Eleanor slid the postcard into a book she’d just finished reading and danced to her shower.

She knew what love was. And it was expecting her at nine.

Taste of Pleasure

About the Author

In 2003, award winning author LISA RENEE JONES sold her Austin, Texas based multi-state staffing agency and has since published over thirty novels and novellas across several genres. Booklist says about Jones’ suspense: “… truly sizzles with an energy similar to FBI tales with a paranormal twist by Julie Garwood or Suzanne Brockmann. Alpha, military, and paranormal romance readers will want Jones’ entire series.” Lisa is active on Facebook and Twitter, and you can find her at www.lisareneejones.com. Lisa enjoys receiving e-mails from her readers! Email her at LisaR…@att.net (LisaRenJones@gmail.com - w/o the spaces). Please note that while Lisa reads all of her e-mails, it may take some time before you receive a response due to deadlines and other commitments. She’ll respond as soon as possible. If you like to receive information about Lisa Renee Jones’ latest books and news about contest giveaways, as well as any other information that might be fun or interesting to you, sign up for Lisa’s Newsletter.

PROLOGUE

“Silk” was the name swirled in fancy, curly writing on the edged-glass, double doors of the entrance to the club. Inside, skin, sin and satisfaction dominated more than the menu—it dominated private cubbyholes with sheer curtains, the open areas as their centerpieces. Velvety couches sat in these showcased areas, all well adorned with naked bodies indulging in sublime delights.

This was a place Sarah Michaels would never in a million years have dared to enter had she known what to expect. Her close friend Carrie had dared her to be “wild and crazy,” in celebration of her acceptance into UCLA’s law school. And since lately, “wild and crazy” meant a burger and fries without the take-out bag and library decor, the idea held appeal. She yearned to let her long raven hair out of its tightly braided confines as much as she hungered for a little male companionship. She’d worked hard these past few years to build a future outside her family’s business, to create her own identity. To stand on her own. She deserved some fun, to play a little.

But the bodies melting into bodies, the sighs and moans, were far more than she had bargained for. Sex surrounded her. Disturbingly, despite the illicitness of it all, a part of her that she didn’t recognize as herself was aroused, excited. She felt young, inexperienced, afraid, but yet she was effortlessly seduced. Deny it as she might wish to, she reveled, with an uncomfortable certainty, in the hedonistic indulgence of watching. This was not her—she was prim, proper, all about business. The dampness clinging to her panties defiantly contradicted her silent claim.

Sarah crossed her arms in front of her body and clung to any form of cover, a shell to hide beneath. She found it in her slinky black dress and a silent vow that it would not be removed despite everyone else’s state of undress.