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He saw her bite her lip in the seductive way she did, her eyes widening as they fell upon the toy in his hand. He pressed the rabbit vibrator against her wet entrance, slipping just the tip inside. “What was that?” He turned it on, the low vibration rippled against his hand as he worked it back and forth inside her, knowing the vibrations would work on the plug inside her too.
By the time she’d orgasmed for the fourth time, she was begging for him to stop. Not safe wording, but begging nonetheless. And since he was painfully aware of the ever-ticking hand on the clock, he removed the toy, uncuffing her wrists. “How do you feel now?”
He watched her lie there, eyes closed, body still thrumming with pleasure as tiny aftershocks continues to ripple through her muscles. He rubbed her wrists, kissing them gently as she evaluated herself. “I feel much better,” she answered at last, causing him to chuckle.
Undoing her ankles, he rubbed them gently before getting a cool washcloth to clean her with. “Remember, this stays in until you get home.” He tapped the jewel of the butt plug, causing her to squirm once more.
“Yes, Master.”
“Good, now go get dressed. The car’s picking you up in forty minutes.” He watched a flash of panic cross her features. Cupping her face, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
“Just remember, the only person you take it up the ass from is me.” He tapped her butt to emphasise his point. “Don’t take any nonsense. You’re letting her be involved. You can just as easily do it without her.”
Ivy gave him a weak smile, nodding as she left the room. He knew their scene had done wonders for her anxiety, calmed her, but when it came to his mother, there was no cure.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ivy glanced at her watch. Despite being made for women, it was not feminine by any means, the large face was held by a thick silver band that was chunky rather than dainty. She’d often been mistaken as left-handed because she always wore her watch on her right wrist. In school, she used to tell people it was so she could keep an eye on the time during lessons, but the truth was, she just liked it. It felt more natural there.
The car had picked her up at the arranged time, but what she hadn’t expected was to still be sitting in it some thirty minutes later, having passed over Brooklyn Bridge. She anxiously watched the hand move another minute past eleven. She was now five minutes late, and had no idea where they were even meant to be heading.
When Mrs Taylor said she’d seen to the arrangements, she hadn’t wanted to question her. Now she was regretting it, not knowing how far away she was, or how much longer it would take to get there.
For every second that passed, she could feel the knot of tension growing in her stomach as she twisted the lace hanky in her hands.
When the car finally pulled to a halt, it was quarter past. The location the car stopped was a quaint little place. It seemed secluded thanks to the roadway towering overhead, making it seem like it was in its own little world.
Stepping inside, she took a deep breath of the cool air, taking in the small intimate restaurant that probably seated around thirty people at capacity. Vintage photographs added character and colour to the white brick walls. While plants and lamps towered on wooden overhead shelves bringing a touch of nature inside, the natural light from outside would normally be enhanced by small lamps that were currently turned off.
Candles and plants decorated the small tables, creating an intimate environment despite them not being lit. Given the time, Ivy was surprised to see the place was empty except for—a loud tut sliced through the air.
“I said eleven, not quarter past. I’ve ordered for everyone. You can pick up the tab, but it hardly makes amends for your disrespect.” Ivy knew better than to rise to the bait. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, making her way toward the table where four women were sitting.
Evelyn sat prim and proper, in her high-end labels, with her perfectly sculpted blonde hair, which always just brushed her shoulder. Never a hair out of place. Ivy half expected her hairdresser to be hiding in the shadows in case the unimaginable should happen and a strand dare break free of its setting. Her pale green eyes narrowed in disgust as she looked at Ivy like something she’d scraped off her designer shoe. The other three women were carbon copies, faceless lackeys trying so hard to meet the standard of the clique.
Ivy really wanted to make a scathing comment, mention how Evelyn had arranged for her transport, insisting on it in fact, no doubt just to give her this one-up. Another reason to make her feel bad, belittle and shame her before her peers, ensuring everyone knew what a waste her son was marrying. “And after I called in all manner of favours to have the owner open for us today. They wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know. But someone like you wouldn’t know the first thing about that, would you?”
Ivy passed her credit card to the waiter who’d opened the tab, watching as he input the details into their system with an apologetic smile. There were already two bottles of expensive wine on the table, each of the women cradling their large glasses as they shared hushed conversation in the conspiracy theory tones women often used when talking about others. And from the way they kept glancing towards her, it was blatantly clear who the topic of conversation was.
Oh, this was going to cost her, and she didn’t mean just financially.
The meeting should have been just the two of them, but it seemed Evelyn had deemed it necessary to bring her normal brunch buddies, which meant this was going to go anything but smoothly.
“Since you’ve sprung this shotgun wedding on us last minute, I thought you’d appreciate the extra help. Now, I understand you’ve had a dress fitting.” She cast a critical eye over Ivy. “You’re going to want to make sure the dress you chose still fits closer to the time. Oh, and I ordered you the vegetables. Those pounds you’re piling on are really starting to show.”
How the Hell had she known about the fitting? She wrapped her arm around her stomach. Yes, she had gained some weight. It was a deliberate effort. She’d come back from Owner severely malnourished with injuries that had seen her wilting. She was only now beginning to get back her shape. The sharp angles of protruding bones had softened, replaced by muscle and some fat. She was finally back in her healthy weight range, but getting there hadn’t been easy.
And comments like that helped further distort her reflection in the mirror.
She grabbed a chair from another table, given that there was only space for four around the place Evelyn had seated them. I mean, it wasn’t like there was the option of more seating on the other side of the restaurant, where a padded bench crossed almost the length of the seating area, or anything.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She could do this.
It was then, as she opened her eyes, she saw the binder the other women were looking over. A big A4 binder, not unlike the one she had crammed into her bag. “You really owe these ladies your thanks. We have a colour scheme picked out and—”
“I already have a colour scheme,” Ivy interrupted. “I appreciate your effort, but we started planning this before you… offered to help.” She chose her words carefully, when what she’d really wanted to say was ‘before you barged in, breathing fire and destroying every vision I’d had.’ Ivy wasn’t even sure why she’d brought the binder with her. It almost guaranteed whatever was in there would be trashed.
“Oh? You don’t mean that hideous burgundy and black? Sure, if you want it look like a scene from a porno.” She tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the cream tablecloth, the deliberate rhythm sending a horripilation of dread tingling down her spine. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly.
