CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 13

"I was intrigued. You left out a lot of information." Phoebe watched his face as she asked her previous question once more. "Do all of your friends attend Masters?"

"Every one of them with the exception of Crest." Lach's dark eyes studied her, although she wasn't sure what he was looking for. "Connor and Lauren play once in a while, although not often. Jax and Emily have a scheduled date night once a month, although I couldn't tell you when. Kevin and Elle haven't conducted a scene in the play area yet, at least not that I know of. Ethan enjoys the company of the uncollared submissives, and although Taryn has attended and watched, she hasn't played."

"Do, um, some of them play..."

"Together?" Lach laughed and shook his head. "No. I'm sure there are those at the club who live that type of lifestyle, but my comrades are too much like me. I don't share well."

"That's good, considering I don't either," Phoebe replied seriously.

Phoebe would have added on more to her sentiment had Thornton not come out and give them the all clear to enter. She hadn't given much thought to what Lach's home would look like, but she was now curious. He waved a hand in front of her and she stepped over the threshold. What she saw took her breath away.

"Oh, my G.o.d. Is that a Renoir sketch?" Phoebe almost tripped over her feet as she scurried across the living room. The piece was magnificent and she had no doubt that it was an original charcoal drawing of The Bathers. The only vice that she saw Lach have was with his coffee, but that could be explained by his experienced palate due to the family business. "Lach, this is beautiful."

"Owning a vineyard has its advantages," Lach replied, his voice far away. Phoebe couldn't tear her eyes off of the image to see where he'd gone. "We have some very close family friends who own an art gallery and who are also private collectors. It's not my usual thing, but something about it caught my eye."

Phoebe had no idea how long she'd been standing there, but suddenly Lach appeared by her side with a gla.s.s of water. She took the offered drink although looked at him quizzically. It had to be going on five o'clock.

"Trust me, you'll need the hydration."

Phoebe felt a rush of heat rise up her neck and she took a sip of the cold beverage. There was that blush again that he seemed to produce with just a few words. He didn't comment, and as a matter of fact, went back into the kitchen. The open layout was similar to hers, although there seemed to be a number of rooms on either side of the s.p.a.cious area.

She finally looked around and she could see that he'd taken the time to decorate the apartment himself versus bringing in a designer. What made her think he would have someone else invade his s.p.a.ce was laughable now. His furniture was very functional, and though the rare piece of art hung on the far side of the room, it was the huge flat screen television to the left that seemed to be the centerpiece. There weren't any plants, yet the place didn't need any to feel homey. He'd done that with several throw pillows, which he probably used under his head or feet when watching a game. The place had a great amount of natural light from the two walls of windows on either side of the art display. She realized that the reason the room flowed so well was the feng shui style or auspicious manner in which he had arranged the room.

"I have to work tomorrow," Phoebe said, wanting to get that out of the way. She stole a glance as he walked back with a white box in hand. It was what was holding her corset and her fingers itched to see the promised unique design. Lauren had commented on it again, letting Phoebe know that the sapphires were real and added a touch of elegance to the material. She couldn't wait to try it on, but she needed him to know about next week. "I also have some television interviews in New York and I have to meet up with Dad for a rally in-"

"Phoebe, I know that you're running on a tight schedule." Lach took the gla.s.s out of her hand and replaced it with the box. "We both knew that going into this. So we make the best use of our time that we do have."

Phoebe hadn't realized that she'd been apprehensive about his reaction to her busy schedule, but the rea.s.surance that he wasn't going anywhere drained the tension from her shoulders. Things were going so well, she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some of the references this afternoon about the turmoil of the others' relations.h.i.+ps and how they'd started out made her wary of their easygoing path. Yes, they had their b.u.mps in the beginning, but nothing like what the women had described regarding theirs.

"I-" Phoebe cut herself short just in time. She wasn't sure what the h.e.l.l she'd been about to say, but whatever it had been wasn't going to come out. She wouldn't ruin what they had. Lach had a way of making her feel as if only the two of them existed, yet she was well aware of the outside forces that had to be dealt with. Lach didn't blink as she corrected herself. "You're right. Let's make the best of it."

Lach used the time that Phoebe took to change into her corset to set up a scene that had been running through his mind since he'd rescued her from Northern Africa. In part, it would relieve him of the stress that he found whenever he thought she was placing herself in danger; however it would also give Phoebe a taste of his favorite implement.

It was rare that he played in his apartment. Lach appreciated the use of the furniture provided by the club, but Phoebe wasn't anywhere near ready nor available to experience play in such a public setting. He wasn't so sure that she would ever be able to, regardless of how well Jax and Connor had refined the members.h.i.+p process. If Phoebe were going to be the daughter of the President of the United States, there would be no protocols safe enough in that environment. Lach personally would never take that chance, which meant he needed to take matters into his own hands and make sure that they both got what they needed in regards to their s.e.xual desires.

"Sir?"

Lach closed his eyes and savored the t.i.tle that fell from Phoebe's lips. He didn't think he would ever get used to hearing it. There was a sweet melody that manifested itself within her voice in this setting that sang to him in a way no other woman had before. He considered himself a simple man, particularly if he discounted his obsession with good coffee, but he could still appreciate the qualities of a special and highly unique woman like Phoebe.

She was standing in the doorway of Lach's bathroom when he turned from the eyehooks that he'd embedded into the wall. She was a vision in the corset he'd ordered specifically with the color of her eyes in mind. She had such deep blue eyes that could only be rivaled by the shade of those stones. He'd purchased the corset to purposefully provide more exposure of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They were gently cradled as they sat perched above the two half moon settings as if her flesh were a part of the cream leather. Surrounding the cut was where Lauren had placed the stones in tiny repeating teardrop patterns that only served to accent the delicate curve of her bosom.

"Turn."

Lach could see from where he was positioned that Phoebe's breathing had quickened from how her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were rising and falling. To be able to witness her reaction in such a clear way was a bonus he hadn't expected. He hadn't wanted any other fabric to cover her in any other way, so her bottom half was nude. Upon her turning, he saw that she'd tightened the special ribbons in the back flawlessly, showing her adoration of the clothing. A lot of women couldn't get themselves into a corset and tied themselves, let alone with such precision. She was perfection.

"You're lovely."

Phoebe went to turn and face him, but Lach saw her hesitate and was pleased to know why. She was waiting for his order, but she'd have to wait just a little while longer. He was too busy enjoying the way her posture was so faultless, along with the delicious curve of her a.s.s below the slight bow instilled by the bone stays surrounding her waist. Her flesh was nearly porcelain in color and her crevice led to the erotic notch where her p.u.s.s.y was nestled. It was a place he would know well when they were done, but first he needed to warm her up.

"Come here, but walk slowly so that I can soak you in."

Phoebe did as he asked and he knew the moment she saw the matching cream wrist cuffs in his hand by the stutter in her step. She came to stand before him, gradually lifting her hands in front of her. Her blue eyes had already started to deepen to match the sapphires embedded in her corset. He planned to make them correspond perfectly by the time he was done.

"I've studied your list of soft and hard limits. I'm going to press one of those soft limits this evening." Lach could have continued to tell her that he promised to go slow and that he would watch for any sign of distress or panic she might be feeling should he take things a little farther than she was comfortable with, but he didn't. After a year of this song and dance, Phoebe trusted him. She already knew that he would never push her beyond what she would enjoy, but the thrill of not knowing what was coming was still prevalent and it was what was vital to a scene. "You have one choice and one choice only."

"What would that be, Sir?"

Lach didn't answer right away as he went about securing her wrist and ankles cuffs with two fingers of play, ensuring that there was enough room not to cut off her circulation. Whereas he usually kept his bag in a storage unit at Masters, he'd retrieved it midweek and cancelled his locker when he knew he wouldn't be using it any time soon. His play bag had come home, in a manner of speaking. Due to this set-up, having to be creative with the props he had available, he would have her back against the wall with her front facing him. Her swollen mounds of flesh would be his to do with as he wished.

"You may decide to wear a blindfold or elect not to and watch everything that I'm doing. If you chose the latter, I forewarn you that you will be ordered to look at me as you come." Lach walked Phoebe backward until her back was against the wall. He lifted her left arm and connected her wrist cuff to the secreted eyebolt with a small carabiner spring snap. She seemed to give her choices some thought, so upon her silence he continued to do the same with her other wrist and her ankles. Standing, he made sure she wasn't misunderstanding him. "You will look directly in my eyes as you find your release and only when I allow it. If you o.r.g.a.s.m before I want you to, I will punish you for your impulsive dissilience. Consequently, you will experience more o.r.g.a.s.ms than you're comfortable with this night."

Saying the words stirred Lach's blood, so he could just imagine what they did to her. Allowing Phoebe more time to make her decision, he stepped close until only a thin layer of air separated them. He dipped his head and nibbled her bottom lip as she parted them in response. He brushed his own against her cheek as softly as he could, wanting her to feel him yet strain for what she really wanted. He continued to caress his lips across her delicate features until he felt her try and s.h.i.+ft her body toward him...and then he stepped away.

"What will it be, my little socialite?"

"No blindfold. I want to see," Phoebe whispered, biting her lower lip where he'd tasted her. It seemed she surprised even herself with her answer, but Lach was delighted she'd taken another step outside of her comfort zone. "Sir."

"I'm pleased." Lach stepped farther back so that he could admire her beauty. The color of the wall behind her was the burnt amber of the Tuscan sunset, contrasting beautifully with her pale flesh that had never been kissed by the sunlight. The disparity was not so much so that it detracted from her spread-eagle form that appeared wrapped to perfection just for him. He'd dimmed the lights enough for ambiance yet not subdued enough that he couldn't recognize her reactions. Phoebe had even pulled her hair back, as if knowing it would get in the way of this night's festivities. There would be nothing to prevent him from seeing the pure pleasure of what she was about to feel. "Do you know what my favorite implement is?"

"No, Sir," Phoebe answered properly, although her eyes quickly darted around the room. He had no doubt she was looking for something wicked and he smiled. "What is it?"

Lach didn't like how quickly the tension had mounted in Phoebe's shoulders, so he took a step forward and made sure that the heat of his body covered hers. He was only wearing a pair of denims, freeing the upper part of his body to move with grace when manipulating the flogger. Pus.h.i.+ng a person even slightly past their comfort zone was challenging and rewarding. He accepted the task with zeal.

"What do you feel?" Lach murmured, refusing to answer Phoebe's question. He gently kissed the inside of Phoebe's neck. "Tell me."

"Your lips, Sir."

"No," Lach responded, correcting her. "What do you feel?"

"Nervous, Sir." Phoebe laid her forehead against his shoulder. "I feel nervous and apprehensive. I don't know what you're going to do, and yet that both concerns and excites me. I'm not scared. I just feel confused, Sir."

"Very good, Phoebe." Lach used his fingers to ma.s.sage her arms, not liking that they would be kept this way for a while. He would have to run her a hot bath afterwards to soak her muscles. "Now tell me what you taste."

"Taste?" Phoebe's confusion was evident, yet she lifted her head to look up at him with a hundred percent concentration. He was leading her to the place she needed to be and she was following along nicely. Her unease lifted as she smiled, obviously liking this game. Since he was still standing within an inch of her, she placed her lips over his scar. Had he not been waiting for it, he wasn't so sure he would have felt her tongue glide over the damaged tissue. d.a.m.n, but she had twisted this scene slightly and got his heart pumping. "I taste you-salty and sweet with a hint of vanilla. There's an aftertaste that I want to stay with me."

Lach reached in between them and gently captured her nipples in between his fingers, rolling and pressing the hardened pebbles. Phoebe's swift intake was so immediate he could feel her sliding into that s.p.a.ce he needed her to be. She once again placed her forehead against his chest.

"What do you smell?" Lach asked, noticing she'd yet to exhale. Phoebe slowly let out the air that was in her small frame and he could feel her breathe deeply to find her answer.

"Nutmeg. Clove." Phoebe tried to lift up on her toes, as if she wanted to smell his neck, but her ankles cuffs kept her in place. "Your cologne is so subtle, as if it's a part of you, Sir. Cinnamon, amber, earth."

Lach allowed her to continue describing his scent as he continued to play with her nipples. He didn't let up until she stopped speaking and he heard a light whimper escape from her throat. His next question rolled right off of his tongue.

"What do you hear?"

"My heartbeat. My breathing." Phoebe had let her head rest against the wall behind her. Her eyes were closed as her lashes fluttered against her flushed skin. "Your breathing. Us, Sir."

"That's right, Phoebe. Us." Lach pressed a little harder on her nipples and was pleased to see her straining for more. He released them and stepped back, taking in Phoebe's color and the fact that her fingers had curled into her palms. "Open your eyes."

Phoebe's long beautiful lashes trembled as she did as instructed, revealing her dark sensuous eyes. The sapphires appeared to glow against such a picturesque background. He was more than pleased with the erotic image in front of him and once she became focused on him, he asked his last question.

"What do you see, Phoebe?"

"You, Sir. I only see you."

Those simple words and the way Phoebe stated them stole Lach's breath away. He wasn't usually p.r.o.ne to such poignant triggers, but she'd somehow ended up combining the physical act of a scene and the emotional side of it in a way no other woman had done before. There was something about her...only her...that made this lifestyle come together in a way that made his soul feel complete.

Lach wasn't sure how long he stayed where he was, with more than their eyes connecting. Maybe it was the glistening of light off of her cream that clung to her inner thigh that garnered his attention. It could also have been the slight rotation of her hips that signaled her need. Whatever it was, he knew it was time to take her further and continue their journey through both of their limits.

"Do not take your eyes off of mine," Lach ordered, wanting to keep the environment and connection on this intense level. He reached into his pocket for the additional gift that came with her corset, courtesy of Lauren. When Phoebe had found them among the dark blue tissue paper, she'd held them up for his viewing pleasure. The tweezer type nipple clamps were made of platinum, with teardrop cut sapphires dangling from the matching platinum chains. They seemed a little lighter in color than what was adorned on her corset, but as he held them up to her skin, he noticed they darkened just right. "I want your nipples to feel every movement of your body as the tails of my flogger dance over your skin."

Lach used the pads of the clamps to trace her areolas and continued to make circles until the rubber reached her protruding nub. He loved how her mounds of flesh were supported by their leather perches and accented by the deep blue gems, highlighting one of her best features. The hardened nipple was swollen to the point of aching need, he was sure, but what this little device would do was even more stimulating. He made sure her nub was directly in the middle of the black rubber and then adjusted the tension. When he got little reaction, he increased the pressure and was pleased to hear a low guttural moan.

"Answer me this, my socialite," Lach murmured as he went about fastening her other clamp, "do you like being at my mercy?"

"Yes, Sir," Phoebe groaned, her mouth staying open in a silent plea as he tightened the compression and then gently flicked the gem so that it rocked side to side.

"Will you take the pain and pleasure I give you?"

"Yes, Sir," Phoebe answered, her body trying to follow his as he stepped back to retrieve his flogger that he'd placed on top of his dresser. He was pleased to see that she didn't react to the word pain as she would have previously. "I need...something, Sir."

"What is your safeword, Phoebe?"

Lach waited patiently for her to answer, knowing her body was getting used to the pleasure of the weights on her nipples. He wouldn't continue unless he was certain she was ready and prepared for what was about to happen. She'd responded nicely to their brief scene a couple of nights ago, and had even reached the outer edges of subs.p.a.ce, but this one would last quite a bit longer and take her deeper into herself.

"Red, Sir."

"Are you to come without my permission?" Lach rotated his wrist, twirling the strands and getting himself reacquainted with the movements.

"No, Sir." Phoebe had a slight perspiration on top of her swollen b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she continued to get accustomed to the weight on her nipples. That sensation alone was keeping her where he needed her. She responded so nicely that he was in awe of her untapped s.e.xuality. "I-I will wait for your permission."

Lach stepped closer to her, and without snapping his wrist he lightly danced the strands over Phoebe's right arm. He continued to do so until he saw the shadowing of gooseb.u.mps on her flesh. He then ran the soft suede over her cleavage, but made sure to stay away from her nipples for now. He s.h.i.+fted his stance and continued on to her other arm until he could see her become impatient.

"More."

Lach stopped and pulled the material away from Phoebe's skin. He took a step back and planted his feet firmly into the hardwood floor, crossing his arms in front of him so that the stands of his flogger dangled. Her eyes flickered every once in a while to the implement, but for the most part she kept gaze connected to his. He must have stood that way for a good two minutes before she caved.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I just need more."

"I will give you what you need, but in my time." Lach could clearly see a teardrop of Phoebe's cream trail down her inner leg. She'd always known instant gratification, with the exception of the other night. He wasn't one for immediate release, for it meant nothing. One must work for his or her reward. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Phoebe bit her lip as if she were holding back her own words by force. Lach had witnessed the pink flesh of her c.l.i.t swell from the time he'd placed her into position to now. It wasn't close to the size he wanted it when he would finally give her permission to come. "You will give me what I need."

"I want you to say that every time my flogger strokes your c.l.i.t."

Lach waited until Phoebe answered him properly and then he s.h.i.+fted until he was in place. He ran the threads down the outer side of her right leg, dancing them across the top of her foot. He brought the soft suede filaments up once again and down the other side. He did this twice more before bring the flogger up with a flick of his wrist, the end of the strands catching her c.l.i.t. Pleasure filled his pores when the slight sting brought about her surprised cry. He then waited.

"Y-you will give m-me what I need, Sir."

Lach stepped back, wanting to see her reaction. Her c.l.i.t further peeked through her swollen folds, giving him only a glimpse of what he wanted to see. It looked as if they had their work cut out for them.

"Very well, Phoebe. I will do that."

Ever so light, Phoebe felt Lach start once again with her arms and she would swear that he didn't leave one section of her skin untouched. The sounds of the impact started to change and she knew he was creating harder strokes, but she didn't really feel the difference. Her body seemed to adjust to his momentum and take her higher without any relief in sight. She would have wept had she thought he would allow her to come right now.

Phoebe did let her thoughts drift slightly, hoping it would help her ward off the intense need to find immediate relief. When she'd opened the box that contained her corset, she hadn't known what to expect. Seeing the gorgeous design had taken her breath away and seeing the delicate nipple clamps had only added to her desire to try them on immediately.

As if sensing what she was doing, Lach let the flogger drop and brought it up between her legs with a tap. She tried to close her legs as an intense shot vibrated through her body. He waited patiently for Phoebe to give the right response, but she had to allow the tortuous pleasure to pa.s.s before she could speak.

"You give me what I need, Sir."

Phoebe rushed the words out, afraid she would beg once more. She had a feeling the more she pleaded, the more he would hold out. It was almost as if this was a test of wills, but she knew he wouldn't see it like that. She never would have guessed in a million years that she would enjoy such an implement, but she needed more of the exquisite impacts each strand created on her skin.

"Then I will give you more."

Phoebe wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry at his statement. She was trying her best to keep her eyes on him, knowing that was what he wanted, yet she had an overwhelming need to close them in order to savor the sensations running through her body. Her skin had become so sensitive that even the movement of the heat coming through the vent could be felt. Her breathing was starting to sound loud in her ears, yet she wasn't so sure that wasn't her heart pus.h.i.+ng the blood through her body at a rapid pace.

Lach worked the flogger over her abdomen, leaving her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to only have the sensation of the clamps. It was enough, if not more so given that with every movement the sapphires swayed and kept her aware of the pressure on her nipples. She hadn't expected him to land the actual threads on top of the clamps, but he did. She gasped in her cry, trying to rise up on her toes to get relief from whatever this pleasure or pain was that he'd inflicted on her. His dark eyes remained on hers and she could have sworn she saw profound hunger within their depths that matched hers, yet that would be impossible.

Without breaking eye contact, Lach brought the flogger down and before Phoebe could brace herself for another impact, he brought the strands up between her legs. The direct collision, although still light in nature, had lights dancing around her peripheral vision.

"I don't hear you, Phoebe."

Phoebe couldn't stand it any longer, yet she knew if she said anything other than the words he instructed her, he would carry this scene out longer. She would swear they had been doing this for hours. She couldn't handle it if he added on any more time than what he already had in mind, so she said the correct words.

"You give me what I need, S-sir."

"Your c.l.i.t has finally revealed itself to me," Lach said, tapping what felt like the handle of his flogger on her c.l.i.toris. Phoebe couldn't prevent the whimper that stole through her. The pleasure was so intense she started to rethink the o.r.g.a.s.m she wanted. She was afraid of what it would do to her. "Let's see if we can match your flesh to the color of your c.l.i.t, shall we?"

Phoebe wasn't prepared for the peppered reins of the threads to connect to her skin. She was just now realizing that Lach was only now starting but before she could feel bad for her position, the rapid and unexpected pace sent her somewhere euphoric. Over and over, the strands connected with her body until it was as if she could no longer feel them. She knew they weren't, but in an odd way, they had become a part of her.

"Come for me."

As if Lach had flipped a switch, Phoebe's body did as he instructed. Wave after wave crashed over her, but not in the way she had been frightened of. Her eyes stayed locked with his, which seemed to drag her under the current even more so. This release only added to the exultant sensation her mind, body, and spirit were already experiencing. It carried her farther away until she wasn't sure she'd ever return to this place and time.

Chapter Twenty-Four.