Consequences
Page 9
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Satisfied, he went back to his office and resumed his work. Although he had a lot to accomplish, every now and then he would utilize the cameras and look into her suite. He had difficulty hiding the anticipation as he saw her on the sofa, freshly showered and redressed. A grin emerged from time to time as she sat and obediently waited for him.
Anthony Rawlings did not fail. Catherine was wrong. He would teach Claire that there were consequences.
Later that night, Anthony tested Claire’s reflexes as he rolled her hard nipple between his fingers. Their perspiration, combined with his recent oral assault, left the dark red nub slippery under his grasp. Though it appeared that she tried to anticipate his next move, her bristling and flinching indicated that she was unable. It wasn’t as though she could see what he was doing; her eyes were completely covered by the satin material. He imagined the green that lay beneath. Brushing away long, damp strands of hair from her blindfolded face, his thumb traced her swollen lips. Anthony was mesmerized by their color. It was almost as if she were still wearing lipstick, though he knew that hours earlier it had been worn away. Nearing his mouth to her ear, his warm breath bathed her skin, as goose bumps proclaimed their presence over her arms and legs. Though she had spoken earlier in their training, more recently only sounds had been offered. Anthony whispered in his most seductive voice, “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and turned away from his voice.
Pulling her chin toward him, he asked, “Claire, what have I said about verbal responses?”
“Yes,” her words choked, “you’ll be back.”
Stroking her hair, his cheeks rose. “That’s a good girl. You’re learning.”
He lifted himself from the side of her bed and walked toward the bookcase. With each step, his muscles pulled, tight and defined by their recent exertion. The constant vibration of his phone suggested that something of the utmost importance required his attention. As he reached for his phone, he contemplated the woman before him. Truthfully, he didn’t mind the break. After what had transpired earlier in the day in his office, he was prepared for this night to go on for a long time; besides, he was beginning to enjoy the role of teacher. With Claire’s recent attitude adjustment, he must be doing well. Grinning ruthlessly toward his student, he watched as her legs twisted in a way as to try to conceal her exposed body. He could help her—lift a sheet and cover her; after all, with her hands bound to the headboard, she wasn’t going to succeed alone—but he didn’t. He liked the view. She had an attractive body. As his gaze reluctantly moved from the bed, he tapped the screen of his phone and words and icons appeared.
Instead of the urgent business on the screen, he recalled the beginning of this lesson. He wasn’t sure if the satin scarves were necessary or purely an exhibition of his control. Either way, Anthony knew he wasn’t going to tolerate her ridiculous fighting any longer. She would learn her place.
The afternoon must have been educational, because as he secured the satin around her wrists, she didn’t argue or beg. He asked her, “Do you know why I’m doing this?”
At first, due to her tears, her response was difficult to understand.
He continued, “A few weeks ago, I had scratches on my arms. That’s not going to happen again.”
Her eyes, yet to be covered by the satin, opened wide. “I’m sorry, Anthony; I won’t scratch, I promise.”
“You won’t, but you did. Behaviors have consequences. Can you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“Repeat what I just said.”
“Behaviors have consequences.”
“So, whose fault is it that your hands are bound?”
Again, the waterworks. “Mine—it’s my fault.”
He stroked her hair. “That’s right.”
“This morning, I told you to be in my office by 10:30 AM. Did you do as you were told?”
Her shoulders shuddered with her response. “No.”
“Say it … what is my number-one rule?”
Claire’s words were separated by exaggerated gasps of air. With each deep breath, her exposed breasts trembled. “Your rule … is to … do as you say.”
“Did you do that?”
“No, I didn’t do as I was told. I’m so sorry—i-it won’t happen again.”
He looked deeply into her eyes just before covering them with the satin. “No, Claire, it will not.” Securing the knot, careful to avoid her hair, he asked, “I’m going to tell you what to do right now. Will you follow my number-one rule?’
Her hands were now secured and her eyes were covered. He considered her ankles, but liked the possibilities available if he left them unbound.
“Y-yes,” she replied.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Anthony, I’ll do as you say.”
The screen of his phone brought him back to present and told him that he had two voice mails and three text messages. He looked past Claire to the clock. It was almost 7:00 PM and they hadn’t eaten. He checked the text messages first. One from his assistant, informing him of an important email she’d sent regarding an upcoming meeting. The next was a text message from Brent Simmons, head of Rawlings Industries’ legal department and Anthony’s closest friend. It, too, discussed the email.
Anthony could access the email in question from his phone, but perhaps both he and Claire could use a break. Besides, he may need to make a call or two if this truly was a big issue. Whatever was happening apparently had more than a few feathers ruffled. Looking toward the bed, he knew that calling from this room was too risky. What if Claire decided to make a noise? He walked over to the bed and leaned over her. As he neared, he watched her body grow still. Running his fingers slowly over her breasts and down her stomach, he said, “I have to make a few calls. I’m going to untie you.”
Anthony Rawlings did not fail. Catherine was wrong. He would teach Claire that there were consequences.
Later that night, Anthony tested Claire’s reflexes as he rolled her hard nipple between his fingers. Their perspiration, combined with his recent oral assault, left the dark red nub slippery under his grasp. Though it appeared that she tried to anticipate his next move, her bristling and flinching indicated that she was unable. It wasn’t as though she could see what he was doing; her eyes were completely covered by the satin material. He imagined the green that lay beneath. Brushing away long, damp strands of hair from her blindfolded face, his thumb traced her swollen lips. Anthony was mesmerized by their color. It was almost as if she were still wearing lipstick, though he knew that hours earlier it had been worn away. Nearing his mouth to her ear, his warm breath bathed her skin, as goose bumps proclaimed their presence over her arms and legs. Though she had spoken earlier in their training, more recently only sounds had been offered. Anthony whispered in his most seductive voice, “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and turned away from his voice.
Pulling her chin toward him, he asked, “Claire, what have I said about verbal responses?”
“Yes,” her words choked, “you’ll be back.”
Stroking her hair, his cheeks rose. “That’s a good girl. You’re learning.”
He lifted himself from the side of her bed and walked toward the bookcase. With each step, his muscles pulled, tight and defined by their recent exertion. The constant vibration of his phone suggested that something of the utmost importance required his attention. As he reached for his phone, he contemplated the woman before him. Truthfully, he didn’t mind the break. After what had transpired earlier in the day in his office, he was prepared for this night to go on for a long time; besides, he was beginning to enjoy the role of teacher. With Claire’s recent attitude adjustment, he must be doing well. Grinning ruthlessly toward his student, he watched as her legs twisted in a way as to try to conceal her exposed body. He could help her—lift a sheet and cover her; after all, with her hands bound to the headboard, she wasn’t going to succeed alone—but he didn’t. He liked the view. She had an attractive body. As his gaze reluctantly moved from the bed, he tapped the screen of his phone and words and icons appeared.
Instead of the urgent business on the screen, he recalled the beginning of this lesson. He wasn’t sure if the satin scarves were necessary or purely an exhibition of his control. Either way, Anthony knew he wasn’t going to tolerate her ridiculous fighting any longer. She would learn her place.
The afternoon must have been educational, because as he secured the satin around her wrists, she didn’t argue or beg. He asked her, “Do you know why I’m doing this?”
At first, due to her tears, her response was difficult to understand.
He continued, “A few weeks ago, I had scratches on my arms. That’s not going to happen again.”
Her eyes, yet to be covered by the satin, opened wide. “I’m sorry, Anthony; I won’t scratch, I promise.”
“You won’t, but you did. Behaviors have consequences. Can you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“Repeat what I just said.”
“Behaviors have consequences.”
“So, whose fault is it that your hands are bound?”
Again, the waterworks. “Mine—it’s my fault.”
He stroked her hair. “That’s right.”
“This morning, I told you to be in my office by 10:30 AM. Did you do as you were told?”
Her shoulders shuddered with her response. “No.”
“Say it … what is my number-one rule?”
Claire’s words were separated by exaggerated gasps of air. With each deep breath, her exposed breasts trembled. “Your rule … is to … do as you say.”
“Did you do that?”
“No, I didn’t do as I was told. I’m so sorry—i-it won’t happen again.”
He looked deeply into her eyes just before covering them with the satin. “No, Claire, it will not.” Securing the knot, careful to avoid her hair, he asked, “I’m going to tell you what to do right now. Will you follow my number-one rule?’
Her hands were now secured and her eyes were covered. He considered her ankles, but liked the possibilities available if he left them unbound.
“Y-yes,” she replied.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Anthony, I’ll do as you say.”
The screen of his phone brought him back to present and told him that he had two voice mails and three text messages. He looked past Claire to the clock. It was almost 7:00 PM and they hadn’t eaten. He checked the text messages first. One from his assistant, informing him of an important email she’d sent regarding an upcoming meeting. The next was a text message from Brent Simmons, head of Rawlings Industries’ legal department and Anthony’s closest friend. It, too, discussed the email.
Anthony could access the email in question from his phone, but perhaps both he and Claire could use a break. Besides, he may need to make a call or two if this truly was a big issue. Whatever was happening apparently had more than a few feathers ruffled. Looking toward the bed, he knew that calling from this room was too risky. What if Claire decided to make a noise? He walked over to the bed and leaned over her. As he neared, he watched her body grow still. Running his fingers slowly over her breasts and down her stomach, he said, “I have to make a few calls. I’m going to untie you.”
