Chapter Fourteen

 

 

 

Will leads me down a long dark corridor with gleaming mahogany flooring and the potent aroma of wood wax. A winding iron staircase descends to the basement where a dimmed corridor features three dark doors and low-level lighting.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Guaranteed privacy.”

I struggle on my overly high heels as I follow his brisk but long bat-strides. “Hate to spoil your plans but isn’t this your party?”

“As the host, I’m entitled to set the itinerary.”

“Being host kinda involves schmoozing—they’ll notice you’ve gone. They’ll come looking. I know Dibian will, for sure.”

Will shrugs his broad Batman-caped shoulders. “I’ve left Ben in charge—we won’t be disturbed. Did you wear the leather skin suit for me? I’m interested in finding out if there are underclothes or if it’s, as I suspect, the way I like it, bush commando.”

I raise my eyebrows in shock. “It could take five shoe horns and a winch to remove this gear.”

Will’s hair is a delightful mess from the mask but neither of us cares. His midnight velvet voice spellbinds my senses, and hairs respond on my arms. “Don’t bet on it. I assure you I’m game to give it a try.”

He turns me to face him in the dim basement and kisses me. But kiss is way too tame a descriptor. More like he devours my mouth and leaves me without breath and a boneless husk being supported in his arms. I’d blame these skyscraper heels, but I’d be lying. It’s Will’s assault of heady testosterone.

Wow, what a guy. I go back for more. We’re snogging in the hallway and it’s all very sixth-form disco. I have to remind myself—he’s Batman and I’m Whiplash. We’re both thirty-something teachers having a raunchy, real-life sex affair, gagging for naked thrills and pushing each other’s boundaries. How bizarre my life has become since Will Darby waltzed into my school…

Who cares, when the payoffs are this exciting?

“As much as I love your kisses, I’m not risking getting caught down here,” I tell him between panted tongue tangles. My hands are wrapped around his head and threaded through his hair, which kinda belies my claims for caution.

“Like I care,” he growls. “I’m Batman. Nobody’s gonna cross me and win. I want my woman. My way.”

“And if Rogerson creeps up on us? Teacher fraternization isn’t encouraged, Mister Bat Ears. You won’t get a pay rise.”

“Only one rise I’m interested in…and Rog is too busy downing Christal bubbles to care about us having orgasms below stairs. It’s cool.”

When Will is kissing a delicious line from my décolletage to my earlobe and licking the bulge of my corset-clad breasts, it’s pretty hard to object. “Find somewhere with a door that locks. We’re in danger of getting a reputation.” I look down pointedly at the massive, straining bulge in his skin-tight suit.

“Iz. You’re so hot. Can you blame a guy for getting excited?”

“Come on, Darby. Leash the beast for two minutes.”

“I can’t keep my hands off you! See what you do to me?”

He steps back, licks his snog-stung lips then produces a key from some hidden Lycra pocket. And this will prove to be a moment I will never forget.

He does have a Bat Cave. Only this one’s a massive, shocking game changer.

The key turns in the lock, but the door stays shut as Will’s eyes meet mine. He moves over a few steps and enters a code, using the buttons in the wall panel. With a rasping sound, the bolts slide to release.

Will grasps my hands. His eyes are solemn. “You must enter here without judgment. This place isn’t mine.”

I raise my eyebrows but say nothing. Mostly because I’ve no idea what he’s on about.

“No questions, no answers. Understood? We go in here and nothing more is discussed. I made a promise I won’t break and this is not my room. On that you must be assured.”

“Okay… I think.”

Frankly, he couldn’t bamboozle me more. But there’s something about a mystery that gets your interest and cuffs it to the radiator with panting nosiness. Consider mine duly chained up and gagging to get to the skinny.

“Come on, Will. No need to be so cloak and dagger.”

“I think there’s every need. You’ll understand soon.”

The room is in darkness even though I crane to see. “What’s in there—your jewel stash? The wine cellar? Bloody expensive wine if it needs Fort Knox locks. Don’t tell me, it’s the gold bullion you stole in a train robbery!” I think of another joke and can’t hold it in. “Damn. It’s your cross-dressing wardrobe. Why didn’t I guess?”

“Why is everything a joke with you? This is serious.” Will shakes his head, his jaw clenches and the look on his face makes my innards flip. It’s grimmer than Stephen King storytelling in a graveyard.

“What is it, Will?”

“It’s not wine. It’s for something stronger.”

Something in his tense stance makes me falter. I’ve never seen him so earnest—it could almost be his middle name, and that would be wrong. Why is this room so private?

“Less wine cellar, more dungeon.” Will’s face takes on a grim cast.

The door opens wider and he hits a switch, causing lights to come on in slow but steady succession. Their muted red glow throws a spooky hue. He pulls me to him and we’re inside the room, then he firmly closes the door behind us. It has the ominous deep click of bolts that mean business—I find myself hoping I won’t regret coming in here in the first place.

I look around me and my breath catches fast in my chest. “Holy shit, Will. What…the…fuck!”

The windows are shuttered—the room’s contents breathtaking, and not in any way that could ever be imagined. I’m still turning round to peruse it all as my eyes meet shock after shock. “Holy shit. Who built this? Torture Chambers Are Us?”

“No judgments remember.”

“No judgments but plenty of Oh My Bloody Gods, Will.”

“Strictly confidential. It’s not my secret. But it is somewhere I know we can escape to without being disturbed tonight. If I haven’t shot the moment to hell by shocking you.”

I let out a slow, low whistle. “It’s a bloody dungeon and if this is what you do in your spare time—I’m starting to think you’re way more whiplash than I’m ready for!” I gulp and swallow on the hard bulk of my dry, shocked throat.

“If you want, you can still leave.”

My emotions have taken a rocket trip to full-blown toxic shock as I stand immobile and absorb what faces me.

Will is explaining but I’m barely listening, “Paul Bates’ wife Shana built the room. He gave me the entry code but I told him I’d never need their ‘playroom’. If the truth comes out—can you imagine the headlines?”

I feel his heart drumming and my mouth dries as the need to retreat takes hold. But a weird part of me wants to know more. Here lies a spacious room where shuttered windows have created a dimmed lair. There’s dark wood flooring, dark walls and the heady notes of exotic, sensual flowers and spices scent the air. A vast, square bed is sheathed in black silk sheets. A ceiling mirror reflects the heady opulence. Tiny bottled oils grace the lacquered table nearby.

Panels of deep claret silk are festooned from the ceiling and along the walls. Long leather ropes with elaborate brass cuffs are fixed to the bed. A nearby ebony table also features chained cuffs and manacles. If it’s for massage, these treatments aren’t for chillax or muscle tension relief.

I fail to summon any response. While delving into Will’s landlord’s sex secrets isn’t my business, part of me can’t not have questions answered.

Ebony glossy cabinets stand against each wall and a large rack is lined with whips, canes and other threatening implements that don’t bear close scrutiny.

I circle to absorb this revelation. “Holy crap. This is some kinky side.”

“They’re props. Paul says it’s consensual. Now you’ll see why I was trying hard to keep eyes out. But, for tonight, it means we can be alone.”

Will runs his finger over a layer of dust that’s built up on the table beside him. “Paul told me Shana’s sex slave phase is over. Been a while since it’s been in use. We’ve got the privacy. Still up for this?”

I blow out a breath. Man, these are some surroundings. A girl would be forgiven for feeling overawed. For backing up with a mighty ‘ewww’.

Then again, I’m with the man I’m into like no other. The implements around me are strangely thrilling and remember, I’m a dyed-in-the-wool erotica fan who’s read and dreamed about fantasies like this. Shana Bates may well be a woman after my own heart.

I’m in a room straight out of my fave erotic book. Am I about to say no thanks and do a U-turn?

“Guess I’ll have to stay here solo,” he says coquettishly. I can tell he’s only seeking a reaction.

Will pulls at his Batsuit and it peels away from his taut body. My eyes widen as I watch and I’m minded of a strip show I went to once where the male dancers’ trousers flew off as if by magic.

“We don’t have to do kinky shit if you don’t want to,” says Will.

Fuck! As bloody if! “You saying I’m a wuss, Darby?” I pull my ponytail over my shoulder and slip out of my leather jacket. Then I place my curled whip down on the gleaming table, unconcerned by the manacles and shackles.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

His eyes darken as I stand before him in my tight leather jeans and black lace corset. I run my black gel nails up the side of my own neck to get him even more hot and bothered.

“I’m feeling hot.” I close my eyes and gulp. “What should I take off first?”

My words work, because he rushes at me like a blood-starved urban commando vampire and I’m grinning as he snogs me full and hard.

I hold my finger up between kisses and point it at his chest. I pause for effect. “I’m up for kinky shit. But we’ve not got much time tonight. Kinky takes time and deliberation.”

“There’ll be other nights…now that we know it’s here waiting. How about hard and fast and crazy?”

“My favorite kind. Dim the lights if you prefer? Being a creature of the night…”

He growls low in his throat. “I want to see everything.” Will smiles wide before he grabs me. I think I’m rocking it like a sexed-up Beyoncé and Batman’s a very happy boy.

We’re naked. Delightfully, deliciously naked. I can see some of the hairs on his arms stand to attention—mimicking the actions of that most important part of him.

Will has peeled my leather layers away and his Bat skin Lycra lies like a giant black condom on the floor.

I giggle and that fires him more.

“Enough, Whiplash!”

And, wow, but Will is turned on. He’s erect and wet. Strong and sleek. His muscles are something that should be celebrated in art. His man parts are resplendent.

And so am I—wet, that is. My breasts are heavy with desire, and when Will pulls me to him, I melt into those sensual kisses that spin me into infinity. He cups my breasts, he teases and molds me. And, as he kneads my nipples, I mewl in the back of my throat, wanting more, always more. His mouth dips to trail kisses down to where his fingers have worked their magic. And man, but that is a sinful mouth—I know from personal experience.

He takes my nipples fully in his mouth and I gasp aloud. His teeth scrape me lightly. Then his tongue ravishes the spot he tortured. One minute my nipples are hard and peaked. The next I’m heavy and aching for everything he can give.

“You’re going straight for consensual straight vanilla, Will Darby.”

“Can’t wait, madam. You shouldn’t play such a high-octane fantasy dress foreplay game.”

“Oh. But my. It was worth it.” I giggle.

He sucks my nipples then plays them with his tongue. To think there’s a straddle bar in here, manacles, handcuffs, whips, crops, restraints aplenty. And all I want is Will. Kissing me, sucking me. Promising the delights of his cock.

All I want is him. Us. Like this.

“You didn’t shave. Ah. I like that.”

“Would I dare to defy my Sir?”

He slides his hand into my hairs and he hisses between his teeth when he feels my naked, wet heat. I’m positively molten.

“I love it when you’re like this.”

“And I think I love it back.”

We’re against the wall and Will pulls me to him. He puts on a condom in record time and I raise my leg. He eases into me, and his weight presses so temptingly against my clit, I cry out at the sensation. It’s painful but sweet, heady pain as I widen and stretch.

“More…”

“Sure?”

“Give me all you have.”

I feel myself get wetter and wider. I encourage him with a wide-eyed stare and he smiles as he screws me tighter and I want it more than oxygen.

“Ah. Hidden depths,” I purr.

“I want you.”

“I want that cock to stay at the party. Shall we? Sir?”

His cock presses deep between my moist, hot folds and I have him fully to the hilt and harder than he’s ever been. It’s the biggest head buzz ever. I moan at the sensation of widening as far as I can to accept him and I close my eyes, relishing having him in the deepest part of me. I’m the hottest and most turned on I’ve ever been in my life. My gaze sweeps the room and takes in all the instruments of kink. Seeing it all turns me on and takes me higher.

I gasp and moan out in my ecstasy as Will drills me with his powerful thrusts.

“Good, baby?”

I can’t answer in words—only moans.

I rise on my toes as he stays deep in slow, steady fulfillment. Is it too much to hope that tonight we might conquer my burning ambition of satisfying him? Full-on penetrative sex and orgasms for us both in a manner that lasts long enough to blow his world.

He pulls out then jams straight home and I shout his name.

He does it again and again, moving in a slow deliberate pace that makes me pant and moan over and over.

“Wow,” I whimper. “More. Harder. Take me.”

“This is all I’ve wanted…”

He grasps my butt as he claims me, to raise me up, and I take him as deeply as I can. I’m fully engaged and accommodating him now and it’s rocking both our worlds. He’s inside me—joined as I squeeze him with my legs. I want to stay like this forever. And yet…

“I love this.”

Wow the L word. Fuck.

“One glance at you tonight. I knew. You’ve done this.”

He rams into me again, again, again, again. We’re both making noises that tell me it’s crazy time. But the sex is stellar and this is what we both wanted and knew we’d have. Fucking magic.

The sex explosion of my life.

As if to emphasize his words, he thrusts into me, presses and stays as his mouth finds my neck and he kisses me meltingly. Then he slams again so forcibly that I yelp. It’s a good yelp but a loud yelp and I don’t even care as he’s drilling into me and we’re noisier than the school orchestra on a good day. It’s pleasure, it’s desire and a need for more.

“Fuck me, Will. I want it. I want you.”

I’m urging more as he fills me full and deep as delight bubbles through my veins. My clitoris is responding to his magic as my excitement starts to peak. I relish each moment he thrusts into me, taking me higher. I cry out his name against his ear as he claims me against the wall, pinioning me to Paul Bates’ passion room as if I’m an autumn leaf on a nature wall chart. He makes me feel at one with nature. Synergy—a whole human being because of his organic, electrifying touch.

I think I’m in love. Body, soul. The works.

“Oh God, Izzy.”

I can tell Will is near the pleasure pinnacle, as every muscle and sinew are tensed to the brink. His pace builds to frenetic mayhem and, even though it’s rough, I welcome the rush. Being pounded this way is life-affirming and I relish the way I gasp as he crashes into me and my clitoris absorbs each thrust. The power of our orgasm is like a tsunami of need that’s swept us into oblivion. Will thrusts, moans and growls with his desire and he judders against me as he comes deep inside my pounding pussy.

“Baby. Yes. Baby.”

He clings to me, spent. His pace, once frenetic, swiftly calms as we cling drowning in the moment as waves of steady pleasure continue.

The climb was a mounting buzz. The aftermath is bliss meets nirvana.

My inner vixen is buoyed beyond words that he’s succeeded here. I know the battles and scars he bears.

“Thank you. I love you,” he says against my ear. “Next time. Kinky shit. Guaranteed.”

Um. Wow. Love?

My heart is thundering and not just from the sex. But I’m not quite sure how to voice my surprise.

“You okay?” he checks.

“More than okay. I knew we’d be good.”

“I want to stay down here forever. I want this again.”

“I’d love to. But there’s a house full of guests. Hold that thought for later.”

And I think I am, I’m totally in love. And more scared than I’ve ever been before. Love, fuck. Love.

This has gone to a new level—one that’s scarier than I’m ready for and I fear I’m over the threshold and into the no exit zone without knowing I’ve taken this route.

Will’s my danger zone. He’s a man who scares me because I suspect he has the power to deeply scar me. I hide my true wounds well. So well nobody realizes I’m fragile beneath the surface. I lost the center of my world—then I lost trust in myself. It’s a place I never revisit.

I staunchly cover these innermost weaknesses. Yet they are hanging together at heart by a thread. How do I cope with opening such secrets? Can I resurrect my defenses? Can I risk my heart against all odds?

 

* * * *

 

We’re leaving our lair when we run into a search party of one. It’s Annie James, hotpants and all. Of all the people to come find us… Why am I not surprised? Just when I think I can’t hate her more—whoops, I managed to ramp up the loathing.

She pouts cherry-glossed lips that I swear must be no strangers to Botox. “Will, I’ve been looking for you for ages. What’re you doing down here?” She puts her fists firmly on her hips. “What have you been up to? Don’t tell me Izzy’s commandeering you yet again!”

“Headache pills,” Will segues and I push my hand to my temples and wince without prompting.

“Migraine. Must’ve been brought on by the punch. It’s got plenty of thump behind it.”

There’s one person here I’d like to punch. And it’s not the male in our midst.

Annie narrows her eyes. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve been too busy dancing. And we didn’t finish what we started, Will.”

I find myself wondering if she’s noticed that my corset laces have snapped in the middle due to the eager fingers of my beau or that my previously sleek ponytail’s been ravaged by Sir’s firm attentions.

“I have host duties, I’m afraid,” says Will.

“Then Izzy shouldn’t be hogging your attentions with her headaches. That getup does look a bit tight, Izzy. Not surprised your head hurts. You’ve probably caused nerve damage,” Annie snarls at me.

“Like your hotpants. Vintage is very you, though. Nice to see a woman showing her age.”

Basically this woman needs a good bitch-slap and I’m wondering if now may be the time. My, but that woman is a spiteful cougar into the bargain.

Annie’s eyes narrow but she runs on, “Will, there’s been unpleasantness in the grounds. And as one of Izzy’s friends is involved, it would be best if you come without her. She’s, after all, a biased party. It’s been a fight. And I understand the police are on their way.”

“Who?” I ask immediately.

“Joe… No. What was her name? Mo? I can’t remember. She’s dressed up like a guerrilla and frankly it’s a huge tip-off to her character. Highly appropriate given her violent tendencies. She claims she caught some prowler in the bushes, though I struggle to believe it. And she foolishly took things into her own hands. Your security boys have intervened but I think we need police involved. She kicked the man in the privates.”

“But is she okay? Before you play judge and jury and get it all wrong.”

“Yes. Though I think she gave as good as she got. The police have been called because I told them to get right on to it,” Annie says.

It’s the last thing that Will needs. To have cops and prying eyes crawling into his private life. Especially given what I now know about what lies below stairs. He may have a point.

“Let’s go see what the fuss is about,” Will tells her, but his eyes are on me.

As we head for the stairs, he whispers near to my ear, “Play it cool. You’re great in a crisis. Help me sort it out, please?”

And I will. “Of course.”

Because he’s my hero. In more ways than his costume and his playroom moves.