The Ultimate Erotica Collection: 3 Books in 1 - Destined to Play, The Silver Chain, Run to You. Primula Bond. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Primula Bond
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Эротика, Секс
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007564682
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remember his words had a similar tone and finality.

      ‘You know I am serious, Alexandra, I won’t let this go.’

      But will you let me go? Do I want to go? These silent questions float through my head.

      I know he is not to be messed with whenever he uses my full first name.

      The air between us is thick with pent-up energy, emotion, and anticipation. There is so much I want to say, so much that isn’t coming out of my mouth. Where are my words? Where is my protest? Where is my escape? Why am I still here, accepting this? There must be something I can do. My mind is blank. Could I want this reality? Do I desire it? Is he tapping into something I’ve been denying in myself for years?… Oh no, my own mind has just given him the opening he is looking for.

      I continue to search his eyes in an attempt to find further explanation as to why this is so important to him? Why so persistent? I know it is in his character; he has always been determined, always the winner, but why now, what is he winning? What could I be losing? I just don’t understand. He must have sensed my analytical mind switching into gear because his voice interrupts my thoughts in their tracks.

      ‘Enough! The time is now,’ he proclaims in a booming voice. ‘Make your decision.’

      ‘Is it really my choice, Jeremy?’ My voice shakes with emotion.

      ‘It is always your choice, Alex, never forget that. You didn’t have to promise and I am not forcing you to stay. I am simply outlining the conditions if you do.’

      Oh, Jeremy, the supreme mastermind.

      He takes my hands and gently leads me to the second bedroom suite. I can feel my heartbeating faster by the second. I can’t decipher whether it is due to the absinthe, adrenaline or sheer emotion. I try to twist slightly away from his grip, without success. Oh god, I think, what have I gotten myself into? As my eyes scan the room, I notice an elegant silk blindfold cascading over the edges of a petite, expensive looking box — it is the same colour as my dress and interwoven with delicate black lace. Alongside it is a velvet face cloth, a tiny bottle of ointment and some eye drops laid out on the bedside table. My heart pounds erratically as my feet become firmly planted at the door.

      There is a voice in my head screaming Walk away now, right now! Move your feet and run. You are giving him complete control. It is wrong, you don’t want this. You are a mother, a wife. Move, get going. Do not become a part of this.’ Another voice says in three simple words Bring it on! I begin to tremble. Jeremy hugs me possessively. Like a big brown bear paradoxically in love with its prey. My arms fall limp by my side.

      ‘Why is this so hard for you, Alex? It is meant to be exciting, intoxicating, not make you shake like a leaf on a tree defending against gale force winds.’

      His voice is low, caring, caressing. His words sum up my feelings more eloquently than I can describe them myself.

      ‘Why is it so important that I comply, Jeremy?’

      ‘You made a promise.’

      ‘I feel this is about so much more than that, so tell me, please, just tell me what is going on. Why is this so important to you?’

      ‘Let me have this moment with you, it won’t last forever. I will look after you, I promise you that. When have I not?’

      I let out yet another great sigh knowing his last statement is true. We have had some wild times together but he has always looked after me. I feel as confused as any human being on earth. Jeremy is telling me I have a choice, but I don’t feel like I have one — if I want to stay, that is. Is that a true perception or merely my imagination? I honestly don’t know. I am drowning in my thoughts and emotions when I notice a bowl of perfectly formed red apples sitting in the middle of the round table. Strange how I didn’t notice them before, their symbolism being so obvious. For a fleeting moment I reflect how Eve must have felt when being tempted by the snake to eat the apple. Perhaps knowing it was the wrong thing to do, but also knowing intuitively that fate was clearing her path forward regardless of her own actions. Was she destined to play her role in the biblical story because the temptation was predetermined, beyond her control? Or was the choice she made solely of her own accord and she wanted to eat the apple to see what would happen? This internal debate is not helping my immediate dilemma.

      ‘I’m not sure what to do, Jeremy, I just don’t know.’

      Deep down, I know these words are the wrong ones to say to the man standing before me. Nonetheless, his response catches me completely off-guard.

      ‘I know I’m asking a lot, but remember; it was inspired by your lecture this afternoon. At the very least it will be a learning experience for you and I know you have never turned your back on continuing your education. I know how important it is to you. Think about what you ask your clients and students to go through to achieve personal growth. Is this so different? Except that I am asking you to go through it, instead of the other way around? I’m giving you the opportunity to understand first-hand the impact of lack of visual stimulation, to explore sensory deprivation for yourself, the very topic of your expertise. It may be the beginning of a whole new thesis for you, important research based around personal experience that you may have otherwise never considered.’ He pauses, assessing my response to his line of argument, which is at least thought-provoking. I reluctantly admit to myself that his proposal intrigues me, though I’m just not sure I’m brave enough or have the strength to explore it on such a personal level.

      ‘I don’t want you to leave here now. I want to be with you, to touch you, to connect with you. You look divine, and I know you believe it, I see it in your eyes. I want you, Alex, and for the next forty-eight hours I want to send you where you have never let yourself go. I want to remove all your boundaries, I want to tap into the essence of your being, introduce you to yourself again. I know in my heart this is how to achieve it. Please, trust me. Let me take you on this journey of discovery. Give yourself to me.’ Jeremy’s voice is hypnotic, my brain and heart absorbing his words as if liquid to a sponge. His charisma, his presence, is both seductive and intoxicating.

      I am lost in his words now, just as I was in his touch when we were in the bath together. He leads me to the edge of the bed, lowering me to a seated position. Everything becomes trance-like, tranquil. I feel energised, yet calm.

      ‘You know I have always loved you, Alexa, I would never hurt you.’ His voice is smooth, caressing my body to relax, for my mind to give in. I nod slightly, as if to say I know, I understand, but my words remain within, unspoken.

      ‘You know that from the moment we met, I have never met anyone like you and I know I never will again.’ His fingers caress my forehead, his palms settle on my temples.

      ‘Lie still, Gorgeous Girl, let me look after you.’ The fear that previously restrained me has mysteriously left my body and has been replaced by a peaceful awareness. My body is in a serene state while my mind is dependent on Jeremy’s every word. I’m not sure I could lift myself from the bed even if I tried at this moment.

      ‘Will you let me do this now?’

      I feel my head nod slightly.

      ‘You won’t fight against me?’ My head moves from side to side. His hands press firmly but gently on each of my shoulders as he slowly lowers my back on to the bed.

      ‘Look at me, Alexandra.’ I meet his gaze.

      ‘Are you ready to say goodbye to your vision for forty-eight hours?’

      ‘Yes,’ I respond softly. As my response enters the air, a tear rolls slowly from my eye onto the bed, perhaps due to the anticipatory emotion contained within the decision I am making. He meaningfully kisses the trace of the tear on my cheek as if acknowledging the power I am granting him over me. His fingers guide my chin upwards, tilting my head back in to the palm of his hand.

      ‘Thank you.’ He softly shifts the loose hair that has fallen around my face to the side and masterfully places two drops of the ointment into each of my eyes. As I blink, the room quickly becomes dull and