The Initiation of Isabella: A Binding Ties story Read online

  She frantically tried to twist out of his reach, but it was difficult when her feet barely touched the floor. She couldn’t find a toehold, nothing to use as leverage.

  He abruptly grabbed her by the hips and held her tightly until she stilled.

  “Why are you struggling?” he asked, actually sounding surprised. “I told you I’d take good care of you. This is all part of tonight’s arrangement. Just relax.”

  Relax? How the hell could she relax when he was undressing her?

  He let go of her hips, and his hand found its way back to her chest. Bella couldn’t breathe. Her entire body trembled violently as Mr. S smoothed a finger slowly along the lacy edge of her bra, slid down between the valley of her breasts, then moved lower until he hooked a deliberate finger into the front closure of her bra, easily snapping it open.

  She shook her head and moaned in distress as he spread the thin material and exposed her breasts to his view.

  He inhaled sharply. “I hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful.”

  This time there was definitely surprise in his voice.

  Even in her panic, Isabella’s brain registered the strangeness of his remark. Why would he have been expecting anything of her? Think, Bella! If this were simply part of some outrageous initiation, he wouldn’t care what she looked like, right? Nor would he care if his intent was only to have his wicked way with her. What was the reason for his remark, then? Was there a third possibility here?

  Suspended as she was, she knew her breasts were lifted and thrust forward, blatantly available to his touch. Inviting it, almost. She could have tried to twist away again, but that would only have made her breasts jiggle and bounce, and she wasn’t about to incite him, to play into his game, whatever that game turned out to be.

  So she held deathly still, even as she felt his thumbs slowly begin to graze her nipples in a steady back and forth motion. She gritted her teeth, but despite her resolve, her treacherous body responded to his touch. He encouraged her nipples to eager little peaks, and then rolled them between the pads of his fingertips until they became hard. Then, with a small sound of satisfaction, he leaned down and rewarded them with a stroke of his wet velvet tongue, and then sucked one at a time into his hot mouth.

  Isabella shuddered, but this time it wasn’t entirely from fear. That mouth! Oh God, the luscious lips she had so recently admired were now worshipping her breasts. He was sucking, licking and nipping her. This was completely outrageous—what he was doing to her was surely a crime, wasn’t it?—and yet he was being so gentle about it. Almost as if he were patiently trying to arouse her, to stimulate her.

  What the hell was really going on here?

  He abruptly backed away from her breasts, and she felt the cold air of the room against her nipples where his hot mouth had just been. It sent another shiver through her, and she felt those tight tips getting even harder.

  She tried desperately to speak through her gag, but he ignored her, instead walking around to stand behind her. He paused there for a moment, and she paused, too. Waiting. His fingers found the button at the top of her skirt. Too late, she realized his intent and tried to twist away from his grasp, but his agile fingers lowered the zipper, and in one fluid motion, he jerked her skirt down her legs and completely off. The awkward movement left her swinging by the chain restraint, fighting frantically to regain her balance, her tiptoes scrambling for purchase on the slippery floor.

  Oh God, oh God… How had she left herself get into this situation?

  She was now completely exposed to him except for her panties. And she was horribly certain they wouldn’t stop him for long.

  Once more she tried to protest, or at least to get his attention through the barrier of the duct tape long enough to try to reason with him. But his continuing silence made her realize he was just going to keep on ignoring her.

  The situation was desperate. And desperate situations called for desperate measures.

  Waiting until she heard him come back around to the front of her, she gauged as best she could his exact location, took a deep breath, and then kicked out at him with all her might.

  She heard his grunt of surprise as her foot made contact with his body. A moment later, a loud thump told her he had obviously fallen to the floor.

  Her decision to fight him off suddenly gave way to a terrible suspicion that she might have just made things worse. Maybe even much worse. She had endless minutes to worry about it while she heard his long, unsteady breaths as he fought to recover himself.

  “I didn’t realize you wanted to play rough,” he said tightly, his voice coming up to her from the direction of the floor.

  Oh God, she had definitely made things worse.

  She heard him scramble back to his feet, but she sensed that he stayed far away from her dangerous feet.

  The soft rustle of clothes made her inhale sharply. Was he undressing? She heard the popping of snaps, the unzipping of his pants, and then the unmistakable soft tear of foil.

  Oh, no, no, no…

  In a rush, he moved behind her and quickly pressed the full length of his body against her back, too tightly for her to get a kick off backwards, even if she thought she could. His hard erection pressed against her backside as his left arm pulled her close up against him. She twisted and turned as hard as she could, but it was no use.

  “Don’t fight it,” he insisted. “Enjoy it. This is what you paid for. And I always satisfy my clients.”

  What—?

  This is what you paid for?

  Isabella froze in stunned disbelief. Holy crap. This wasn’t the Sigma Iomega Nu initiation and it wasn’t rape either. It was something else entirely, that third possibility she’d considered a moment ago—a mix-up of the most unbelievable kind.

  Was it possible that Mr. S was some sort of…gigolo? A male escort? She could hardly believe it. But he was a gorgeous guy with an incredibly hot body, and as outrageous as this situation was, if an unknown woman had actually paid him for pleasure, that would explain Mr. S’s gentleness so far in handling Isabella. He’d tried to calm her down—reassure her—more than once when she’d protested his actions, and he hadn’t even retaliated when she’d tried to kick him in the balls—well, except maybe for his dire words about punishment.

  Was this place some sort of pleasure palace then, and had some mysterious woman paid for a…a bondage fantasy of some sort? The idea was shocking, extreme, but obviously the two had never met, or else Mr. S would realize that Isabella was not his client.

  Her mind raced as she frantically tried to think of a way to communicate to him that he’d made a horrible mistake, especially since he seemed dead-set on ignoring every effort she made to speak to him.

  The heat of his powerful male body radiated into hers as he pressed harder up against her, his hot breath teasing the side of her neck. His naked chest was smooth as silk against her back, his muscular arm was wrapped around her waist, and his cock was obviously eager for the night to begin.

  Wait. A. Minute.

  What if…?

  What would it be like to just let herself go and enjoy this? To pretend to be Mr. S’s client? He was a gorgeous guy, and not twenty minutes ago in his car, she’d been thinking about just this sort of thing. Well, not exactly this sort of thing. Not dangling handcuffed and helpless from a ceiling restraint. But she’d thought he looked dangerous, hell, she’d fantasized about having a little dangerous in her life, and nothing could be more dangerous than this. Sex with a total stranger. An incredibly sexy stranger who obviously knew how to pleasure a woman. She had no doubt that her orgasm would be cataclysmic—for goodness sake, if he was a gigolo, he was an expert in the art of pleasing a woman! And she’d heard him put on a condom, so she’d be protected.

  And he’d told her she was beautiful, so the attraction was obviously mutual.

  What if this case of mistaken identity allowed her to indulge in the hottest sex of her life? Was she brazen enough to go for it?

  Before
she could decide, his grip tightened around her waist.

  “Tell me that you want me,” he whispered huskily into her ear.

  Chapter Three

  Logan Sommers frowned as he waited impatiently for a signal from her.

  The woman he held tightly in his grip was nothing like he had expected. Nothing like her application form had indicated. There was simply no way a woman as beautiful as this—and with a body as perfect as hers—would have trouble getting any man to indulge her sexual fantasies for a night. For her to pay him for this was almost ludicrous.

  And yet, here she was. Bound, gagged and blindfolded.

  Exactly as she’d requested.

  So why was she fighting him?

  He’d been completely intrigued by her application. So intrigued, in fact, that he’d taken this assignment from his main man, Max, and insisted that he’d do the job himself.

  It was a first for Logan. He might be the owner of Fantasies Fulfilled, but he never dealt personally with the clients.

  Most women, in their initial booking with his company, picked one scenario from the extensive menu of options he offered. Usually it was something tame, something straightforward, or maybe something just a tiny bit out of the ordinary, in order to push their sexual boundaries a little. Whatever they decided on, it was usually something simple, allowing them to dip their toe safely into the fantasy waters to see if they liked it. His staff had never yet failed to satisfy a female customer, but usually it was just with one scenario per session.

  The woman dangling before him had picked four.

  All in one night.

  And the fourth… He shook his head in wonder.

  Where are the others? That had been almost the first question out of her luscious mouth on the street corner. He’d told her the others were waiting for her. And they were. Right there, just off this room. Watching them. And probably just as blue-balled as he was, eagerly anticipating their turn with her.

  Who could blame them? She was brazen, this one. And obviously multi-orgasmic. Sexually curious. Erotically adventurous.

  What was her story? What had brought her here tonight?

  There were three main reasons most women contacted his company. The first was pretty innocent—on a dare, for fun, or to have something to tell their girlfriends about the next day.

  The second was the main reason he’d started Fantasies Fulfilled—for the women whose husbands or boyfriends couldn’t, or simply wouldn’t, take the time or make the effort to satisfy them. There were more women who fell into this category than Logan, as a man, would like to admit. It was a poor reflection on his gender, but it had made his business a runaway success in just the six months it had been open.

  The third explanation was probably the reason he was here tonight—because a high-powered executive businesswoman either didn’t have the time to establish a relationship with a man, intimidated the men she did meet, or wasn’t interested in a relationship, just basic sex.

  Whatever the motivation, Logan had found that after a woman had worked up the nerve to book one of his fantasy options, she usually came eagerly dressed for the part. But this woman tonight had chosen four of his most decadent scenarios and then come clad like a schoolgirl! He’d been amazed at her prim white blouse and uniform-like plaid skirt, and her no-nonsense, flat black shoes. No sexy black lace bra or leopard-print thong panties for her—plain white cotton underwear was what he’d found. It had given him a moment’s pause—especially since a simple halter top would have been easier to remove, given that she was handcuffed—but at least she’d cooperated enough to wear a bra that opened at the front, allowing him easy access to her perfect breasts.

  They were such a surprise, those breasts, just like the rest of her body.

  I never expected you to be so beautiful.

  Idiot. He could kick himself for saying that out loud. Where was his professionalism, the required detachment that was a necessary part of this job? He was tempted to blame it on the fact that this was his first time participating in one of these sessions, but he of all people should know better than to blurt out what was on his mind.

  On the other hand, there was no denying that her breasts were perfect, her nipples wonderfully responsive. He could happily stay right there all night, licking, sucking, nipping and kneading them. But it was early yet, and she had a long night of pleasure ahead of her.

  He smiled. It would be no hardship to satisfy her in the other ways she’d requested. Hell, she was the best-preserved thirty-two year old he’d ever seen—another thing that had surprised him. Pert breasts, flat belly, and long, lean legs. He’d peg her for twenty-five, max. He’d been slightly concerned about his performance tonight, even thought about taking a little blue pill to ensure he’d be able to get through all four scenarios, but now he was glad he hadn’t. After one look at her standing on that street corner, his twenty-eight-year-old body had been raring to go, eager to service her. Wrapped in the ribbed condom, his cock throbbed and jerked with restless anticipation.

  Logan gritted his teeth.

  Maybe this woman knew exactly what she was doing. Perhaps spending her days in control of one of the city’s biggest companies made her want to give up all control at night, hence the various bondage fantasies she’d chosen. Or maybe she simply wanted to be forced, and rape was her real secret fantasy. It could be the reason she’d picked these particular options, dressed like she had, and then lashed out at him, pretending to struggle—because she knew she’d be safe acting out that scenario here.

  It had been a damned close thing, though, that struggle. Her foot had landed on his upper thigh, mere inches from its intended target. His balls. He’d been so surprised that he’d jumped back, losing his balance and landing in an undignified heap on the floor. Good thing her blindfold had prevented her from seeing that.

  Her action had prompted him to threaten her with punishment, which was, after all, another one of her requests. So maybe this was all part of her master plan. Maybe she wanted the fantasy of the innocent schoolgirl forced to learn the carnal lessons of life. That was fine with him, but she should have been more specific on her application. He’d never forced anyone, not even after they’d signed one of his lengthy consent forms. In fact, he wanted her verbal okay right now—well, her tacit okay, considering she was gagged—before they went any further.

  After all, there was no chance he’d picked up the wrong woman. He’d been explicit about the location, and she’d been the only one on the designated corner tonight at eight. And yet…

  She’d hesitated before getting in the car.

  No. There was no mistake. She was the one who’d insisted on being picked up on an anonymous street corner in order to avoid being seen coming to his warehouse. She’d even mentioned Diane. And she’d blatantly asked him about the other men, for God’s sake.

  All the cloak-and-dagger secrecy was probably to protect her respectable business reputation.

  There was no mistake.

  Still… He wanted her consent. He needed to be absolutely sure she hadn’t changed her mind about all this. So he tightened his left arm around her waist, pressed the promise of his erection against her backside, and said again, “Tell me you want me.”

  Chapter Four

  Tell me you want me.

  Isabella held her breath as she felt Mr. S’s left arm tighten around her waist, while his right hand slowly slid around her body, coming to rest on top of her panties, right at the juncture of her thighs.

  His palm, so hot, was separated from her most private place by only a thin layer of cotton.

  “Tell me you want it.”

  By God, she did. She wanted this one mad night of total sexual abandon in her rigidly regulated life. And who better to give it to her than a man trained in the ways of pleasuring a woman? A gorgeous man she would never see again, thereby giving her the freedom to enjoy every minute, abandoning herself totally to his sexual expertise.

  The illicit thrill of it, the sheer
erotic promise of tonight, coalesced into a tingle that zinged through her body and settled exactly in the spot where his hand pressed tightly against her panties. She flexed her hips and pushed up against it.

  His grip around her waist tightened as he held her still. “Tell me.”

  She gathered her courage, took a deep breath, and nodded her head firmly. His left arm relaxed slightly in response. “Good. That’s all I needed.”

  A little shiver went through her as she realized there would be no turning back now. She had agreed to this; her body was now his to do with as he wished.

  She swallowed hard as the fingers of his right hand slid up her belly a few inches to tease the elastic at the top of her cotton panties. Back and forth he stroked along her sensitive flesh there, his intention perfectly clear. The wicked promise of his fingers raised goosebumps of anticipation on her heated flesh until finally, slowly, but deliberately, he inched his hot fingers underneath the thin cotton.

  The fantasy had begun.

  But the reality of it was still a shock. Before she could stop herself, she skittishly squeezed her legs together.

  Stop it, Bella, you stupid girl. This is what you want!

  His probing fingers paused, even as he gave a short laugh. “Ah. I understand your game now.” Seemingly undeterred by her reaction, he slid his long fingers farther down, pushing through her tight curls to stroke what lay beneath.

  Isabella gasped. The contact was electric, like hot fingers of fire. But what did he mean by his words? I understand your game now. Did he realize that she was not the woman he’d been meant to pick up? And did his insistent fingers mean that he’d also decided, as she had, to continue with this fantasy?

  She couldn’t think about that right now. All her attention was concentrated on his slow, stroking fingers. She moaned through her gag as he expertly played with her, his fingertips running lightly over every intimate inch of her. Exploring, teasing. Her legs trembled, and then parted to allow him greater access.