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Authors: Alice Raine
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into in a million years.
Unfortunately, my determination in this decision faltered as soon as I had laid eyes on him at my next piano lesson.
Things with Nicholas simply got more and more complex from that day forward, because for whatever sick reason, my little research mission had made me even more curious about him. I clearly needed to get a hobby or something to occupy my mind and help me avoid my perusal of unsuitable men: perhaps stamp collecting or something equally as drab that would fit nicely with my boring bookshop persona.
At my lesson the following Friday, the tension between Nicholas and me was awful: so much static filled the room that I actually felt sick but I couldn’t tell if it was sexual tension or anger on his part. He’d barely spoken a word to me apart from instructions and I started to feel distinctly like he didn’t want me here at all.
That was what I had been thinking until halfway through playing a new piece when I glanced over and caught him staring intently at me, his eyes blazing in a way that even I couldn’t misunderstand. He wanted me.
My breath shuddered to a halt and I gulped like a fish out of water. The realisation that Nicholas wanted me made me hornier than I could believe, so finally sucking air into my lungs again, I stopped playing and plucked up the courage to say something.
‘I did a bit of research last week, Nicholas,’ I mumbled shyly, turning myself marginally so I was almost facing him. Almost , but not quite; his dark eyes were too intense to deal with at the moment.
‘Research?’ he murmured blandly. He had hidden his previous wanton expression but the flash of something else in his eyes indicated that he was more interested than he was letting on.
‘Yeah, I looked on the internet about your … um, type of lifestyle,’ I said, throwing his own choice of words back at him.
‘Really? I’m sure it made very dull reading,’ he said flatly, closing the piano lid but again giving nothing away. God this man was infuriating!
‘It was quite an eye-opener, actually.’ I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear before recalling how Nicholas had said he liked it down and quickly flicking it out again. Really, I did this just as much for me as for Nicholas because it was true: my hair did look nicer down. After his comment the other week, I’d experimented with it in the mirror at home. When my hair was tucked behind my ear, my cheekbones looked a bit too pointy somehow.
Seeing my self-adjusted hair flick, Nicholas arched an eyebrow at me but remained silent, so I continued, feeling a renewed surge of confidence.
‘So, basically, you like to take charge in the bedroom and dominate a submissive woman for both her pleasure and yours?’ I asked in a tiny voice. Hell, I’d started now, I may as well continue. What was the worst that could happen? No more piano lessons? To be honest, I was never going to be the next Chopin, or Nicholas Jackson, so it wouldn’t exactly be a huge loss to the musical world, would it?
Folding his arms across his chest, he observed me with narrowed eyes for what seemed like an eternity. ‘Yes,’ he said darkly, ‘I like complete control. They do as I say or they get punished.’
‘Punished?’ I questioned weakly, my brief period of confidence ebbing away as I began to feel rather nervous at his use of the P-word, the one I’d avoided reading about in my research. Stupid girl, I chastised myself.
‘Yes. It’s common in sub/dom relationships. The dominant partner, be that the male or the female, will use punishment to ensure their will is done correctly. Didn’t that come up on your little research mission, Rebecca?’ Nicholas asked sarcastically, his face confusingly impassive.
‘Well, it did, I just didn’t think that you …’ But my voice trailed off when I saw the dark look that sprang to his eye. How very naive I’d been.
‘You didn’t think I’d do that?’ Nicholas snapped. ‘Well, that’s hardly
Unfortunately, my determination in this decision faltered as soon as I had laid eyes on him at my next piano lesson.
Things with Nicholas simply got more and more complex from that day forward, because for whatever sick reason, my little research mission had made me even more curious about him. I clearly needed to get a hobby or something to occupy my mind and help me avoid my perusal of unsuitable men: perhaps stamp collecting or something equally as drab that would fit nicely with my boring bookshop persona.
At my lesson the following Friday, the tension between Nicholas and me was awful: so much static filled the room that I actually felt sick but I couldn’t tell if it was sexual tension or anger on his part. He’d barely spoken a word to me apart from instructions and I started to feel distinctly like he didn’t want me here at all.
That was what I had been thinking until halfway through playing a new piece when I glanced over and caught him staring intently at me, his eyes blazing in a way that even I couldn’t misunderstand. He wanted me.
My breath shuddered to a halt and I gulped like a fish out of water. The realisation that Nicholas wanted me made me hornier than I could believe, so finally sucking air into my lungs again, I stopped playing and plucked up the courage to say something.
‘I did a bit of research last week, Nicholas,’ I mumbled shyly, turning myself marginally so I was almost facing him. Almost , but not quite; his dark eyes were too intense to deal with at the moment.
‘Research?’ he murmured blandly. He had hidden his previous wanton expression but the flash of something else in his eyes indicated that he was more interested than he was letting on.
‘Yeah, I looked on the internet about your … um, type of lifestyle,’ I said, throwing his own choice of words back at him.
‘Really? I’m sure it made very dull reading,’ he said flatly, closing the piano lid but again giving nothing away. God this man was infuriating!
‘It was quite an eye-opener, actually.’ I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear before recalling how Nicholas had said he liked it down and quickly flicking it out again. Really, I did this just as much for me as for Nicholas because it was true: my hair did look nicer down. After his comment the other week, I’d experimented with it in the mirror at home. When my hair was tucked behind my ear, my cheekbones looked a bit too pointy somehow.
Seeing my self-adjusted hair flick, Nicholas arched an eyebrow at me but remained silent, so I continued, feeling a renewed surge of confidence.
‘So, basically, you like to take charge in the bedroom and dominate a submissive woman for both her pleasure and yours?’ I asked in a tiny voice. Hell, I’d started now, I may as well continue. What was the worst that could happen? No more piano lessons? To be honest, I was never going to be the next Chopin, or Nicholas Jackson, so it wouldn’t exactly be a huge loss to the musical world, would it?
Folding his arms across his chest, he observed me with narrowed eyes for what seemed like an eternity. ‘Yes,’ he said darkly, ‘I like complete control. They do as I say or they get punished.’
‘Punished?’ I questioned weakly, my brief period of confidence ebbing away as I began to feel rather nervous at his use of the P-word, the one I’d avoided reading about in my research. Stupid girl, I chastised myself.
‘Yes. It’s common in sub/dom relationships. The dominant partner, be that the male or the female, will use punishment to ensure their will is done correctly. Didn’t that come up on your little research mission, Rebecca?’ Nicholas asked sarcastically, his face confusingly impassive.
‘Well, it did, I just didn’t think that you …’ But my voice trailed off when I saw the dark look that sprang to his eye. How very naive I’d been.
‘You didn’t think I’d do that?’ Nicholas snapped. ‘Well, that’s hardly
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