Black Lace [Internet Bonds Series Book 7] Read online

  After first name introductions, Reed and Dan ordered dinner while Penny and Jocilynne ordered dessert. Light conversation and laughter highlighted the evening.

  "Last call,” the bartender announced shortly before two.

  "I'd better get going,” Dan said. “I'm covering for Carver this afternoon and need some sleep."

  "I should get home, too,” Penny said. “Lynne?"

  "If you need a ride, can I drop you?” Dan asked her.

  "Sure,” Penny enthused.

  "I'll see you Monday morning."

  "You got it,” Reed said then finished his drink. He watched his friend leave with the other woman and gulped. With quiet speed, Jocilynne had moved her hand from where she'd rested it on his thigh to where his shaft felt trapped in his jeans. The sudden grip on him took him by surprise, especially in a public restaurant.

  He looked at her seeing a devilish smile on her face.

  "Can I take you home?” he asked.

  "I hoped we could spend more time together, maybe go to your place?"

  "My place is out."

  "Oh? Why?"

  "Never take any girl home until I'm sure of the relationship."

  "Interesting,” she said, pulling out her cell phone. She made a quick phone call then they left. Her limo driver held the door for them to get in then closed it.

  "What about my car?"

  "You can come back for it in the morning,” she informed him.

  "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see,” she said, her lips meeting his.

  Overwhelmed, Reed knew he was making a mistake but he couldn't help continuing. Before he could think, he felt her lips on his cock and heard the privacy screen settling into place.

  "Lynne, I..."

  "Shh,” she said, before taking his cock deeper into her throat. Reed gripped the armrest, enjoying a mind-blowing blow job. Never had any woman taken him the way Jocilynne Sommersby just did.

  "Oh, baby,” he said after he felt the last drop of his soul release into her mouth. Licking her lips, Lynne sat next to him, taking another extended kiss from him.

  "There's more where that came from,” she told him. Half an hour later and in the middle of another long kiss, the limo driver informed her they'd reached their destination. She thanked him then went back to kissing Reed.

  "You're something, Lynne."

  "Like I said, there's more,” she assured him.

  Reed groaned, Jocilynne Sommersby sin personified. He didn't comprehend why he couldn't resist her, why he didn't want to even though he knew better.

  When he emerged from the limo, he saw they'd gone to The Radnor Hotel out in Delaware County. He knew it by reputation and the fact it sat out of his price range plus he'd never known anyone with the hotel's phone number on speed dial.

  The driver pulled an overnight bag from the trunk and gave it to the bellman.

  "I see you came prepared,” he observed.

  "You can't seriously expect me to leave in the same clothes I got here wearing?"

  "I guess not,” he said. Amazing...

  He followed her inside where she checked in at the desk. The bellman took them to their room on the top floor where Jocilynne gave him a good-sized tip before locking the door behind the man when he left. She turned, leaning against the door.

  "Okay, Hot Shot, strip!"

  Her command took him by surprise. While he wondered if he'd heard her right, his body reacted to the order in an unfamiliar way—his cock swelled and every nerve ending tingled.

  "I said strip,” she said, crossing the room to where her overnight bag sat on a bench at the foot of the bed.

  "I heard you,” he said warily.

  "Then what's the hold up?” she asked sweetly. “I'm used to getting what I want when I want it."

  "I bet you are,” he came back, quickly considering her family's wealth and society status. The Sommersbys made their money in banking, originally in England before moving to the fledgling colonies and settling in Philadelphia on what was known as the Main Line. Her parents had been known to host some spectacular parties—ones he'd received invitations to and didn't accept. Now their daughter stood across the room with a riding crop in her hand and no idea who she was spending the night with.

  "What?"

  "I said strip and I meant it,” she said seconds before she cracked the crop across his ass. Instead of resenting it, he found it arousing. “Do I have to use it again?"

  Slowly Reed stripped out of his clothes while she circled him as if she was inspecting the goods or a new mount. She ran her hand over his back, sending chills through him. My God, I want more of this. Why? The slight pressure of her hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality for a moment.

  She stood in front of him, removing her clothes. Naked with her legs parted and still brandishing the crop, she pushed him to his knees.

  "Hands behind your back, Hot Shot,” she commanded, Reed blindly obeying.

  What the hell is going on here? He got his answer when she moved closer then pulled his face to her clean-shaven mons.

  "I want you to lick my pussy so I cry out when I come for you."

  "Yes, ma'am,” he said, his lips covering her nether lips. His tongue played over her clit before he drove it into her, tongue fucking the Main Line heiress. In a daze from the fact he shared a hotel room with her while sucking her pussy, the sting from the crop on his bare skin excited him. The more she used it, the more he wanted her.

  "Oh, yes, Hot Shot! Oh...” she cried out.

  Reed drank from her, her essence drowning him though he refused to stop. If I die...

  "Play with me, Hot Shot."

  He nodded, unable to stop feasting on her. One hand went to her breast while the other teased her clit as he drove his tongue deeper into her wet heat.

  She climaxed again, pressing his head closer to her body. Somehow, she turned around without Reed stopping then bent over. He played with her nipples, holding tight when she fed him again.

  "I want to fuck you,” he gasped.

  "Then take control and do it right now."

  Without realizing what drove him, he pushed her to her hands and knees. He drove his hungry cock home, pounding her pussy without mercy. He felt her release coming, his strokes speeding up. Another sting and he filled her.

  The moment she gasped, he reached over grabbing a handful of her hair.

  "Oh, Reed!” she cried once he'd exploded into her.

  "Yes?"

  "Do it again."

  * * * *

  After several hours of raw sex, they'd fallen asleep in the huge king-sized bed. Reed woke around eight, quickly taking stock of what had occurred since he and Lynne met at the bar. He quickly relived it, his body reacting and wanting her again. He saw the crop, his enjoyment of it being used on him shocking him.

  Quietly, he slipped from the bed, grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom, locking himself in. He took a shower, dressed then, like a coward, he left her. Questions about everything ran rampant in his mind, Reed unsure of himself.

  Downstairs, the concierge ordered him a taxi. Once on the road back to where he'd parked his car near Engine 46, he tried to sort things out but found it impossible.

  Reed Carrington had always been sure about every aspect of his life—all the Carrington men shared the same trait. He never questioned any decision he ever made until he met Jocilynne Sommersby—a piranha in disguise. She'd eaten him up, spit him out and he wanted more.

  One notion remained obvious—thank God it had been a one-nighter. He knew he could never handle her on a daily basis. He tried the forbidden fruit and ... Shit! We never discussed precautions. Fuck!

  He paid the cabbie, got into his car and drove home, grateful he hadn't taken her there. He'd always been very private about where he'd grown up and now lived and refused to take any woman there until he felt sure she'd be the right one. The house had its own secrets which didn't need to become public or used against him. One of the secrets he
planned to look into once he got inside the stately mansion.

  It would wait though. Once he parked his ‘69 Chevelle in the garage, he took a walk along one of the smaller branches stemming off the Wissahickon Creek. One of his favorite places, it usually calmed him but not this morning, his mind in upheaval. He cursed, hating the fact she'd gotten under his skin the way she had.

  "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any,” he said, talking to himself as he entered the huge Revolutionary-era home. Built in the early 1700's while the fledgling country fought to build itself into an independent entity, it had weathered a lot over the centuries. Could it handle the outcome of an errant night of sexual bliss out in the county?

  "We shall see,” he said, his voice echoing in the quiet home. Wanting the place to himself once in a while, he gave the staff weekends off unless he needed them for rare special occasions. They left Friday night and returned Sunday night. He still had a few hours.

  Once inside the door, he stopped and waited. No matter where he entered the house, he kept to this one ritual. A few moments later, his Siamese cat Ming-toi came running to see him, his distinctive howl echoing through the house. He picked the cat up, stroking his neck.

  "Thank God for you,” he said. “At least I can trust you to be here for me."

  The cat purred loudly, banging his head into Reed's chin. At fourteen years young, the cat had always been close to him. My trusted friend...

  After Reed fed Ming-toi, he went upstairs to his father's study. Though his father had died when Reed was eleven, he'd made sure the room remained as his father left it, an easy task since his mother had stopped caring long before his father's death. With no love lost between Reed and his mother, he successfully paid her off to quietly leave, giving her enough to live a good life as long as she didn't squander the money.

  "I don't want to hear from you again and I especially do not want to hear from your damned lawyers. You wanted to divorce my father long before he died, his death giving you what you wanted except his money. I know for a fact you didn't want me so the feeling's mutual."

  "But..."

  "No buts,” he exclaimed. “Get out and never set foot in this house or my life again."

  Twenty years passed, Reed not hearing a thing from her. He'd heard through the family grapevine that she married a guy with the same first name as his father.

  At least she won't call out the wrong name in bed, had been his first reaction.

  He stood in the center of the room and let his mind go back to the day when he'd come to see his father and found him emerging from a secret panel. When Reed asked about it, the elder Carrington told him to forget ever seeing it or having any knowledge of it.

  "Well, Dad, now's the time. I think twenty years is long enough to hide the skeletons."

  He went over to the bookshelf and pressed a hidden button he'd located several years after his father's death. Even though he knew where it was, he'd never had any reason to investigate his father's hidden room or to learn his secrets—until now.

  Reed had always had an idea what Gavin Carrington hid about his life. His mother had let it slip once during an argument then again on her way out the door about his father's fetishes and habits. If Dad ... Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button and stepped aside to let the door swing into the room. He felt inside the opening and found a light switch. Flicking the switch up, the lights dimly lit a darkly decorated room. His first impression of the room didn't begin to make a dent into the Gothic reality of it.

  "Good God, Dad,” he said, his voice echoing in the room's silence. He stepped further into his father's playroom and looked around at the various racks, toys, cabinets and other things. A bed waited off to his side and on a table in the center of the room sat an envelope, brown with age and addressed to him. He carefully picked it up and pulled out the letter his father had written to him just before his death.

  Dear Reed,

  I hope when you discover this, you are old enough to understand. I have always dabbled in the darker side of sex and dominated the women I spent time with. One even dominated me, a unique and very pleasurable experience. There is nothing to be ashamed of if you choose this lifestyle as long as you keep it discreet as I did.

  Your mother suspected but could never get the proof she wanted in order to use it against me in a divorce action. If she had, she would have taken everything away from us and I could not let that happen.

  Do not think badly of me. I never let this side of my life touch you and I am still the man who loved you more than you'll ever know. If you choose to partake in the pleasures my toys have to offer, enjoy them with my blessings.

  Forever your devoted father,

  G. Carrington

  PS The road to learning is a very pleasurable one and one you should try before you make any judgments.

  Reed looked around the room again then went over to one of the glass cabinets lining the wall. The oak base had several drawers and when he opened one, his heart skipped a beat. Slowly he pulled out the flogger, the previous night coming back to him followed by his father's words.

  "Well, Dad—like father, like son,” he mused while looking around. “Thank you for telling me it's not wrong to enjoy what happened last night."

  He replaced the flogger in its place, leaving the letter safely in the drawer with it and left the room.

  "Time to go to school,” he said, leaving the room and closing the door on what could be his future.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  Chelsea Strawbridge, extremely distant cousin of the famous Philadelphia Strawbridges, lived in Merion along the Montgomery County stretch of the Main Line. When she asked what that meant, her grandmother laughed then told her every community along the railroad lines running from Philadelphia west to Paoli or further in Chester County had always been considered as being on the Main Line. It amazed Chelsea how two little words upped the price of everything, especially real estate considering celebrities like Grace Kelly to Fortune 500 businessmen and others with old money all lived in huge mansions and flaunted their society status.

  Chelsea Strawbridge didn't care.

  Her father made good money as an author with a Pulitzer Prize to his credit, a house on the Eastern Shore in Maryland and a lodge in Telluride, Colorado. Her mother a prize-winning photographer, her work hung in museums worldwide. They lived a good life despite the name.

  Chelsea went to college in New York City, majoring in art. For graduation, her father set her up in a Center City location where she operated an extremely successful art gallery—Chelsea's on Chestnut. Her clients never knew her distant association because she went under her first name only—her father's wise suggestion.

  Chelsea loved the location for another reason—her father chose not to lease the retail space. Instead, he bought the building giving her the option to live there above her gallery or rent the apartment out. Chelsea chose to live over her gallery, wanting to be on her own. Besides, she had a few secrets she didn't need her parents learning about—they wouldn't understand.

  While in New York, she became friends with a girl from Los Angeles. They moved from their dorm into an apartment near campus. Eva introduced her to a life she'd only seen on television or read about in erotic novels. She quickly discovered she liked it—a lot.

  "Where did you...” she asked her roommate when the subject first came up.

  "Honey, in LA, it's easy. I've been to clubs all over the city and county and even found a cool one in ‘Frisco."

  "And your parents don't know?"

  "What they don't know won't hurt me."

  After classes, they'd leave the apartment and hit some of the clandestine clubs—the kind where no sign told the name and members needed a password to get in. One club catered to women only though not what Chelsea originally expected. Here, she learned a shocking fact about herself—she loved female-to-female sex and being dominated by another woman. She'd also fallen in love with bondage.<
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  Other clubs catered to the BDSM crowd, Chelsea extremely fulfilled sexually.

  "Eva, this is unbelievably amazing. How can I ever thank you?"

  "You just did, honey,” Eva purred. “Now, strip, Chelsea. I want my satisfaction in private."

  Their relationship lasted until shortly after graduation. Eva's parents gave her a studio in Los Angeles while Chelsea opened her gallery. The last thing Eva said to Chelsea defined their lives together.

  "My dear slave,” she said, walking around the chair she'd firmly bound Chelsea to. “I will forever love you and you will remember only one thing."

  "Yes, Mistress Eva?"

  "When we see each other, we will make time to fuck—plain and simple."

  "Definitely,” Chelsea agreed quickly. The thought of their separation made her sick but they'd known from the start it would happen.

  "Open your mouth,” Eva said.

  When Chelsea did, she moaned from the feel of Eva's expert exploration. While she did, Eva played with her slave's nipples—both erect and very hard. Chelsea moaned more when Eva pinched them, sending shock waves through her body. Before she realized it, Eva gagged her—Chelsea knowing Eva would make her scream and she did.

  Eva tongue fucked Chelsea then, at the height of her climax, she gave Chelsea the command not to come. She inserted a dildo into Chelsea's soaked pussy and told her slave not to allow it to slip out. Eva told her both commands to keep Chelsea's mind occupied. Chelsea didn't care, the sexual rush overpowering.

  Through the haze of trying to obey the commands given her, Chelsea's body fought itself. She closed her eyes, deep in concentration. Two tiny pricks to her nipples lit up her world but it didn't matter.

  "Now, Chelsea,” Eva commanded seconds before her tongue replaced the dildo. Chelsea came, the gag muffling her screams of pleasure as she drenched Eva's lips. She cried out, the gag continuing to keep their affair quiet as always. When Eva removed it, she kissed Chelsea then straddled her lap, holding her while the last tremors ran through Chelsea's body.