LITMIR.BIZ

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      Her heart fluttered at the sound of her name. ‘Do I know you?’ she ventured at last.

      He took her hand and peeled away the bloodstained tissue to kiss her fingertip. ‘Not yet.’

      * * *

      That had been almost two weeks ago. Alice had never reached her destination, nor let anyone know she wouldn’t be coming. There was only Mr Carson, and she didn’t really care if he fretted over her non-appearance. It wasn’t like she was particularly vital anyway. Back home, of course, there was no one to miss her, not even a cat. When the train arrived at King’s Cross her mysterious companion took her by the arm and led her along the platform to the taxi rank. He got in beside her and gave the driver the name of a hotel.

      The suite he took her to was plush and elegant, so far removed from the Travelodge she’d been destined for that she might as well have been in another country. As she peered around the room she could feel the man watching her, studying her movements, drinking her in. There was no question that she was here for sex, but she had no idea whether he was waiting for some signal from her. She hadn’t even asked his name. She hadn’t dared to speak at all.

      Finally he appeared behind her, making her jump. She closed her eyes as his hands encircled her, fitting neatly around her small waist before sliding up her body to cup her breasts. One gentle squeeze and then the hands were gone, leaving her breathless and wanting more. He lowered his mouth to her shoulder and her heart pounded wildly as he pulled the neck of her jumper open, exposing her collarbone.

      Alice shivered in response to his warm, moist breath against her skin. She felt his tongue, then his teeth, biting gently. For one crazy moment she thought of vampires and when no fangs punctured her jugular she was genuinely surprised.

      ‘Are you a good girl?’ he asked in a seductive whisper.

      The question startled her and it took her a moment to realise how much it also excited her. ‘Yes,’ she managed to say, her voice barely a voice at all.

      ‘Are you going to do what I tell you to do?’

      She shuddered. ‘Yes.’

      He kissed her throat again, released her and stepped away. He stood smiling at her. ‘Take off your clothes.’

      Although the command wasn’t exactly unexpected, it still made her stomach flutter. Alice blushed fiercely and lowered her head. She felt self-conscious about her cheap high-street suit but she felt even more so about what was underneath. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d undressed for a man but it had been a while.

      Her fingers trembled as she unfastened the buttons of her jacket and slipped it off. He nodded towards a chair and she laid the jacket gently over one curled mahogany arm. Her blouse proved more of a challenge, the tiny buttons tripping up her nervous fingers. The man offered no assistance; he merely stood calmly by. Watching, waiting.

      She unzipped her skirt and slipped it down over her hips, wondering fretfully if he would like what he saw. But his lips parted in a smile as she stepped out of the skirt to reveal her girlish underwear. Flirty white cotton panties with a butterfly pattern and a matching bra. White lace-top holdups. She kicked off her low heels and then felt a sudden rush of panic at the thought of removing the rest. She kept herself in good shape but that hardly mattered; there wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t feel insecure in her position. However, the fear only paralysed her for a moment and she was reassured by the growing bulge in her companion’s trousers.

      ‘Alice,’ he said, his voice edged with firmness.

      Her knees trembled with fear and desire and she felt her sex moistening in response, just as it had on the train when she’d first heard his voice. Quickly, so as not to lose her nerve, she reached behind to unhook her bra and slipped it off, exposing her breasts. She stepped out of her panties and tossed them onto the chair with the rest of her clothes. The riot of butterflies looked out of place in the elegant room, like childhood fairies that had lost their way and suddenly found themselves in the scary grown-up world.

      Swallowing her fear, Alice peeled off her holdups before she had to be told. Her legs tingled as they were released from the constricting nylon and she curled her toes into the soft pile of the carpet, hoping he wouldn’t notice the chipped polish. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of herself in a full-length mirror, standing naked before this stranger. It was all she could do to resist the urge to cover herself but she was too frightened of his disapproval. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. They hung by her sides, her fingers plucking nervously at the gooseflesh on her thighs.

      ‘Are you cold?’

      She shook her head. Just nervous, she thought but didn’t say. It wasn’t necessary; he could see she was terrified. He also seemed to be relishing her fear.

      ‘Hold out your hands,’ he said.

      She obeyed at once, both the command and her instant compliance sending hot little pulses through her body.

      When she saw the ropes she gasped and took one hesitant step back, but she didn’t lower her hands. She saw his eyes register her moment of fright and then his lips curled in a smile that was both sexy and sinister. His erection grew.

      ‘I asked you if you were a good girl, Alice, and you told me you were.’

      Her face burned at the gentle chastisement. She swallowed audibly. ‘I am,’ she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘I’m sorry what?’

      Blood rushed so violently to her head that for a moment she thought she might faint. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

      ‘That’s better.’

      He pushed her wrists together and then wrapped the coil of rope around them. Tight enough to hold without being painful. He knotted the rope and then wound the free ends up between her wrists, tying them off to create a pair of coiled manacles.

      Alice didn’t need to test whether they would hold her. She wouldn’t have tried to escape for anything. There was no question of his control. Her sex was throbbing so intensely it was almost painful.

      The man led her to the bed and Alice followed like an obedient puppy on a lead. All her senses felt heightened, overwhelmed. She caught the scent of his cologne, something spicy and mysterious. It mingled with the polished wood of the furniture and the sharp smell of the wrought-iron bedstead. She imagined she could still smell the blood from her finger, the blood he had tasted.

      When he lifted her and set her down on the bed she sagged with relief. She didn’t think her legs could have supported her much longer.

      He withdrew another length of rope from his pocket and watched her expectantly. Alice writhed against the velvety duvet, understanding the silent instruction. She raised her arms above her head and he smiled his approval as he bound her wrists to the cold iron of the bedstead. Then he slowly circled the bed like a predator, looking down at her from every angle.

      It was only after he was satisfied that he began to undress himself. He took his time removing his jacket, his shirt, his trousers and, finally, his underpants. Alice watched, spellbound, as bit by bit he revealed his lean, athletic body, his broad chest and muscular thighs. When his cock sprang free at last she began to tremble uncontrollably. Tears blurred her vision and a lump formed in her throat.

      She was baffled by her response. She wanted him desperately. She’d been attracted to him from the very first moment. Now she was here, stripped and bound in his hotel room, and he was about to fuck her. She was exhilarated and frightened and she could feel her sex dampening with nearly unbearable desire. Why on earth was she crying?

      Her companion was eyeing her curiously, as though amused by her emotional display. At last he sat beside her and placed one warm hand against her chest.

      ‘I can feel your little hummingbird heart,’ he said softly. ‘Are you really so afraid?’

      ‘Not afraid,’ she managed to choke out, ‘it’s just … I don’t

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