Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
A Totally Bound Publication
To Love and Trust
ISBN # 978-1-78184-919-4
©Copyright Katy Swann 2013
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright December 2013
Edited by Sarah Smeaton
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2013 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 3.
This story contains 142 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.
TO LOVE AND TRUST
Book two in the Boundaries Serial
Should Rachel stand her ground and tell Adam that she won’t be his slave? If she does, she’ll risk losing him, and if she doesn’t, she’ll lose her freedom.
Despite Rachel Porter’s resolve never to love anyone again, she has fallen head over heels in love with her boss, Adam Stone. On the surface, he seems like the perfect Dom—strict but caring. His firm discipline satisfies Rachel’s need to submit, and his kinky demands leave her begging for more. Adam shows her the beauty of submission and teaches her to embrace it—which she does, willingly and happily.
Having her boss as her Dom certainly makes work more interesting, and the fact that he owns an exclusive BDSM club, Boundaries, is an added bonus. Rachel is starting to make friends at Boundaries, and she has never been happier or felt more content.
But she should have known that things are never that straightforward. She’s learnt from bitter experience that love can be destructive, and her struggle to let go of the past and begin to trust again seems like it might threaten her relationship with Adam.
Rachel fights to overcome her fears, but, just when she thinks she’s ready to let her guard down, she starts to realize that not everyone is what they appear.
Dedication
There are so many people I’d like to thank: the staff at Caffè Nero for the continuous flow of coffee, our cats for keeping my lap warm when I’m up writing in the middle of the night and my lovely friends who keep me laughing. I’d also like to say a big thank you to Sarah and the team at Totally Bound for all your help and friendly support. Finally, thank you to my wonderful family for absolutely everything.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Rabbit: Ann Summers Ltd.
The Times: News Corp UK & Ireland Limited
Caffè Nero: Caffè Nero Group Ltd.
Chapter One
Rachel Porter took one final look in the mirror and smiled. She was going to dinner with Adam Stone tonight, and she hoped that dinner wasn’t going to be the only thing on the menu.
The night before, she’d been on the verge of ringing him and telling him she didn’t want to see him anymore. His revelation that his ex-wife had been his slave had stunned her, and when he’d then hinted that he might expect the same from her, she had panicked. But this morning, she had thought about it rationally and decided that she must have heard wrong. She had quickly buried her misgivings and had focused all her energy on tonight.
She returned her gaze to the mirror. For once she was happy with the image staring back at her. Her eyes had a sparkle in them that hadn’t been there before—they seemed greener somehow, more like emeralds instead of the usual dull moss-green. Her lips were fuller. In fact, when she really looked, she could almost see a rosy pout where before, her lips had been tense and drawn together. And her hair, looked different too, somehow shinier and sleeker as it hung gracefully down her back like long strands of golden silk.
She hadn’t worn too much makeup tonight—just enough eyeliner to give her large almond-shaped eyes a slightly smoky look, and a natural-colored lip gloss to emphasize her new-found pout. She hadn’t put foundation on for the first time in years and was amazed at how much prettier she looked as her exposed skin showed off her youthful glow. She looked fresh and natural. And happy.
It hadn’t taken long to decide what to wear as she didn’t have a huge collection of posh frocks. She obviously couldn’t wear the new dress she’d worn to dinner on Saturday, so that really only left the old faithful little black dress, which covered all eventualities. It made her slender figure look sexy and the high heels on her black patent shoes made her taller than her usual five foot four.
She did a little twirl in front of the full-length mirror, stopping so that her back was facing the glass, and looked over her shoulder to study her rear view. She lifted the skirt of her dress to inspect her naked bottom, and sighed. The pale skin was unblemished—not even a tiny little red mark remained from last night’s spankings. She was rather disappointed about that.
She looked at her watch. Ten minutes to go. She’d hardly seen Adam all day at the office—he’d been out at meetings for most of the day and the few times he’d been around, he’d been on the phone or with someone. He had politely nodded good morning to her as she’d brought in his coffee and had barely said goodbye as he’d rushed out at four o’clock for a meeting in Canary Wharf—she hadn’t seen him or heard from him since.
At seven twenty-five, she put her coat on and stood by the window to look out for the car. Mandy was working late so Rachel was alone with plenty of time to count the minutes and contemplate the night ahead. Where would he be taking her tonight? What was it he was planning to do to her on Friday night at Boundaries, and what would his house be like when he took her home afterwards? Would he have a dungeon in the cellar?
The sound of a car horn told her Rob, Adam’s driver, was waiting and so she hurriedly grabbed her bag and made her way downstairs. He was holding the passenger door open for her and she smiled her thanks as she climbed into the car. She’d been hoping to see Adam waiting for her, but the car was empty.
“Where’s Adam?” she asked, as Rob fastened his seatbelt then pulled away from the curb.
“He’ll be waiting for you when you arrive.”
“Arrive where?”
He didn’t reply, just kept his eyes on the road and left her alone with her memories of the journey home last night. Her face heated when she thought about the erotic spanking Rob had witnessed in the back and she was thankful for his discreet silence. She fixed her eyes on the passing lamp posts and settled back to enjoy the ride with nervous anticipation.
After a while, she noticed Rob wasn’t heading toward central London as she had been expecting, but was driving toward Highgate. Where are we going? Finally he drove past Hampstead Heath and turned into Hampstead High Street. Were they going to a restaurant here? Hampstead Village was famous for being trendy and expensive. A restaurant here would undoubtedly be very good.
Rob turned into a narrow side road off the High Street and continued down to the bottom where he turned again into an even narrower, cobbled lane. The only light came from Victorian style lamp posts—apart from that, they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. She swallowed nervously and wondered what the hell Adam was up to.
Rob pulled slowly up the lane then came to a stop by a row of Victorian terraced cottages. Without a word, he got out and opened the door for her.
“Where is this?” she whispered as she climbed out of the car and looked around.
Rob just tipped his hat and turned his head toward the shiny black door of the whitewashed cottage in front of them. “Mr Stone is waiting for you, Miss.”
“Is this Adam’s house?” she gasped. Of all the places she had imagined Adam to live, this cute cottage was definitely not one of them.
Rob smiled and nodded, letting her know in his usual discreet way that this was indeed Adam’s house.
“Wow. Thanks, Rob.” She walked up to the front door and rang the bell, excitement building inside her at the prospect of seeing Adam again, outside work. She heard footsteps approach then the door opened, allowing warm, welcoming light and a delicious smell of home cooking to waft out. Adam smiled as he held the door for her to enter and took her coat once she was inside.
“Hello,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms. “Welcome to my home.”
Before she could reply, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her, long and hard. When he eventually pulled away, her legs seemed to have lost most of their muscle mass and she became unsteady and slightly lightheaded.
He wore jeans tonight—old ones by the look of it—faded blue and slightly ripped. Not designer rips either—these holes were from genuine wear and tear. He had chosen a plain white linen shirt that showed off his broad chest and shoulders. Rachel felt her heartbeat quicken as she drank in the sight of him. It didn’t seem to matter whether he was wearing his Dom’s leathers, his sharp business suit or casual jeans, he always looked divine.
Taking her hand, he led her through to the kitchen, which was pretty much how she’d expected Adam Stone’s kitchen to be. Shiny white cupboards and units were topped with hard, jet black granite, matching the tiles on the floor. But where she had imagined it to be clutter-free and spotless, there were dirty pots, pans and utensils everywhere, a sure sign that he’d been making a huge effort doing something for her that he didn’t do very often.
“Hmm.” She sniffed. “It smells delicious. I didn’t know you could cook.”
“You haven’t tried it yet.” He grinned, and stirred something bubbling away in a large saucepan. “I love cooking, but I don’t get much time these days.” He took a bottle of wine out of the fridge, poured two glasses then handed her one. “Do you cook?”
“Me? God, no, I’m useless. I can just about fry an egg, although even then I burn the bottom of it.” It was true, cooking was something she had never been able to master and every attempt she made usually ended in disaster. Every time she offered to cook at home, Mandy quickly thanked her, then suggested that they maybe got a pizza in. Rachel had taken the hint and no longer offered, which suited her just fine.
She took a sip of the wine and smiled. It was just like Adam—smooth, cool and elegant. “What are we having?” It smelled incredible, whatever it was.
“Lamb simmered in red wine, garlic and olives. It’s an Italian recipe I got from an old friend,” he answered, and tasted a small amount on a teaspoon. He added a pinch of salt then turned back to her. “It’s nearly ready. Come on, I’ll show you around before we eat and introduce you to Thor and Freya.”
Thor and Freya? Has he invited another couple? Disappointment welled up inside her. She had been so flattered that he had made all this effort just for her and now it seemed that he hadn’t at all. She was probably just here to make up the numbers. How stupid of her to think otherwise.
Adam took her hand and led her back into the entrance hall then through a door into the living room. Two large black leather sofas dominated the room, separated by an oak coffee table standing on a dark red pile rug. Matching red suede cushions were propped up along the sofas and a large red glass bowl took center stage on the coffee table. It was simple and stylish yet looked welcoming and homely.
To her delight, there was a roaring open fire blazing in the hearth. She had always loved open fires. She relaxed as the warmth welcomed her into the room to join the dancing shadows being thrown across it by the lively flames.
Then she remembered the other couple and looked around the room with a frown. “Where are your other guests?”
“There are no other guests,” said Adam, tracing his thumb around her lips. “It’s just you and me. Oh, and Thor and Freya, of course.” He nodded toward the rug in front of the fire. Two black, toasting cats were stretched luxuriously over the red pile of the rug.
Rachel quickly made her way over to the sleeping cats. She loved cats and had dreamt of having one of her own one day when she could afford a flat with a small garden. “Oh, Adam, they’re so sweet. And hot—I nearly burned my hand on this one.” She laughed, shaking her hand in mock pain.
“I often marvel at the fact that they don’t actually cook in front of that fire. That’s Thor.” He nodded as she stroked the larger of the two.
“Thor—that’s an interesting name.”
The cat looked up at her, gracing her with a yawn before settling back to sleep.
“My grandmother was Norwegian and loved to tell me old tales of Nordic folklore. Thor was the Nordic God of Thunder and Freya was the Norse Goddess of Love whose carriage was supposedly drawn by two black cats.” He knelt down next to Rachel and stroked Freya with an affectionate grin. She immediately rolled onto her back and stretched out lazily.
“She’s such a tart,” he said affectionately, as he ruffled her fluffy tummy.
“I never had you down as someone who owned cats.” As far as she was concerned, anyone who liked cats had to be okay. Suddenly, the hard-edged businessman and scary Dom didn’t seem quite so intimidating.
He chuckled and stood up again. “I’m just going to check on the food. Make yourself at home.” He kissed her lightly on the lips then left her alone with the two sleeping cats.
She sat down on one of the sofas and stared absently into the fire, becoming mesmerized by the lively flames. The only sound was the crackling as the wood burned, and the cats purring in unison. Every now and again, the sound of plates and pans clattered in the kitchen. If ever there was a feeling of peace and tranquility, this was it.
She looked around the room, taking in as many details as possible so she could learn more about Adam. They settled on a large painting hanging on the wall. She stood up and walked over to it to take a closer look and was immediately captivated by the scene depicted in the picture. It was clearly an original—she could tell from the raised grooves of the paintbrush, although the artist hadn’t signed it.
The snow-covered mountains were set against a night sky and were reflected in the clear water of a large lake. What brought the picture to life, though, were the striking green waves of light floating across the sky. They were so beautifully painted that she could almost see the movement of the waves as they lit up the mountains and gave the snow a mysterious greenish hue.
“The Northern Lights.”
She jumped when Adam spoke, but was unable to tear her eyes away from the dramatic scene as he approached her.
“It’s stunning,” she whispered.
He nodded and put his arm around her. “Come on, dinner’s ready.”
She followed him out of the room and couldn’t help imaging how she would feel if he ordered her to strip and kneel at the dinner table to be fed by him. She’d seen a few subs at the club being fed that way, but it hadn’t really turned her on, so hopefully he’d let her eat her food on her own. Memories of the Master/slave relationship he’d had with his wife still niggled uncomfortably somewhere deep inside her, and she quickly pushed the unwanted thought from her mind.
He led her back to the kitchen where a table was laid for two by a set of large French doors leading out to the darkness of a garden. Several candles flickered romantically in silver candlesticks and a single red rose in a small crystal vase had been placed in the center.
If Adam did have any kinky plans for her, he certainly didn’t let on as he pulled a chair out for her to sit down. He refilled her wine glass and placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of her before joining her.
Adam nodded at her to begin then watched her as she took a small sip of the steaming soup.
Hmm, sweet potato and pumpkin. Nice. “It’s delicious,” she said.
He looked pleased. “Good.”
They ate in silence for a few seconds then he spoke again, “I invited you here tonight for two reasons, Rachel.” He was looking serious again and his Dom voice had replaced the relaxed tone from before.
Uh-oh, she’d known there would be a catch.
“Tonight, you will tell me about yourself—your family, past relationships and those insecurities that seem to follow you everywhere. I want to know everything about you. You asked me on Saturday to wait for another time to discuss it because it’s painful for you. Well, I’ve waited and now it’s time to talk.”
His words made it clear that there was no use trying to dodge around it again, and her heart sank at the prospect of having to reveal her inner demons to him.
She smiled sweetly, not letting her anxiety show. “So, what’s the second reason?”
A devious grin spread across his face as he leaned over the table. “So I can order you to strip because I want you to be naked when we have dessert.”
She swallowed as heat flared inside her body. “Oh? And what’s the dessert?” she asked softly, her pulse rapidly increasing by the second.
“You.” There was no mistaking the sexual promise in his reply.
Her nipples hardened unbearably under her braless dress, and a persistent throbbing deep inside her made her move slightly in her chair to try to calm it. Her dress had ridden up when she had sat down, though, and her naked pussy rubbed against the leather of the chair, causing her to let out a small moan.
Adam grinned, and a flush crept up her neck onto her face. Damn him, how can he have such a powerful effect on me?
“Okay, sweet thing, time to talk.” His sharp eyes held hers, letting her know he wouldn’t accept any excuses. Shit, her sudden arousal had made her forget about their impending chat. The sexy throbbing stopped as quickly as it had started.
“Well, what do you want to know?” she faltered. She genuinely didn’t know where to begin. Her life hadn’t been exotic or exciting or even remotely interesting, it had just been filled with rejection, pain and guilt—and that was a difficult thing to put into words. She’d never talked about it before, even to Mandy, and she wished she could just erase her whole sorry past and create a nice, normal upbringing.
“Well, let’s start with your last boyfriend. What happened?” He stood up, then cleared the empty soup bowls before dishing up the main course. She waited until he sat back down, and took a deep breath. Here goes.
“His name was Paul. He was the first boyfriend I’d had that lasted more than a month.” Her eyes watered as memories of laughter and innocence invaded her, memories she had buried over a year ago. Adam remained silent, as if he knew she needed time to process the intense emotions overpowering her.
“He was sweet and funny and actually liked me for who I was. We loved each other and the day he asked me to marry him, I was the happiest girl alive.” A tear ran down her face and Adam reached across and gently wiped it away for her. She smiled, comforted by the gentle touch.
But then she felt her face twist with bitterness as she recalled the day her world had fallen apart. “A week before the wedding, he dumped me and ran off with another woman.” Somehow saying the words aloud didn’t portray the depth of the pain they signified.
Adam reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “Oh, Rachel, that’s horrible.”
“Oh, there’s more,” she laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t just any woman he’d run off with, it was my sister.” The tears were running freely down her face now, as the pain of everything that had happened finally caught up with her.
“And what about now?” probed Adam. “Have you seen either of them since? Maybe talking to them after all this time will help you let go of the bitterness. They owe you that.”
Rachel shook her head as fresh tears exploded from inside her broken heart. “No, and I never will,” she sobbed. “Because they’re both dead and it’s my fault!”
Chapter Two
Rachel didn’t know how long she’d been in Adam’s arms. She’d lost all sense of time as the past had returned to haunt her. They were snuggled up on one of the sofas in front of the fire, the dinner dishes left unattended in the kitchen. Thor was snoring contentedly in front of the fire and Freya had jumped up and settled with her body on Adam’s lap and her head resting on Rachel’s.
Adam had tried to tell Rachel it wasn’t her fault that Paul and Sasha had died. She hadn’t been there when they’d jetted off to Spain on their honeymoon and she certainly hadn’t made them get on the sightseeing coach that had veered off the cliffs and killed everyone on board.
“I told them, though,” she’d cried as Adam had tried to calm her. “It was the last thing I said to them, that I wished they were dead.”
He’d told her, quite rightly, that people were always saying things like that in heated arguments and that it didn’t mean she was to blame.
But he didn’t know. How could he possibly know?
Adam must have taken pity on her because he hadn’t demanded any more information from her. He had held her close to him and comforted her, and she had cried on his shoulders, gradually feeling calmer as time slipped slowly by.
“Thank you,” she whispered, eventually, and nuzzled farther into his chest.
He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.
“You don’t have to tell me the rest tonight, but I know there’s more and you will tell me another time, okay?” His voice was soft, but tinged with an edge that made her pull away slightly and look up into his face. He grinned and gently lifted Freya off them, before, putting her on a cushion next to him. The disgruntled cat gave him an angry glare and jumped down before stalking off with her tail in the air.
“I bet she’s the only living creature who dares to defy you.” Rachel smiled, feeling more like her usual self again.
He laughed—a deep, sexy laugh that sent a little shiver down her spine. “She’s the boss around here. Thor is well and truly under her thumb, as am I.” He stood up and pulled her to join him. “Come, there’s a special room I want to show you.”
A shot of electricity charged through her body—was he going to show her his dungeon now? She’d read all about Doms who had converted their cellars into dungeons that even the big clubs would be proud of. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her out into the hallway. There was no obvious door that might indicate a cellar, though, and when he turned toward the staircase going up, she realized she may have been wrong. Of course, there was always a possibility he had some sort of dungeon or playroom in the spare room upstairs.
When they got to the top of the stairs, they walked past an open door to what was probably his bedroom. She tried to take a peek, but all she saw was a large double bed. He pulled her toward another, narrower set of stairs going up into the attic. Ah, that’s where his playroom is.
They stopped at the top, outside a closed door. He looked down at her and smiled, almost nervously. “I’ve never shown anyone this room before,” he said, quietly.
Why does he have a playroom if he never brings anyone here? Strange.
Adam turned a key and pushed the door open. Rachel gasped in surprise when she looked in. It wasn’t a playroom at all, but a spacious, airy artist’s studio.
“Welcome to my secret world,” he said proudly. “This is where I spend most of my spare time.”
“Oh!” Rachel didn’t know what else to say as she stood still, taking in the huge room. There were numerous skylights that would undoubtedly illuminate the room perfectly during the day. A couple of easels were propped up against a wooden table that was covered with multi-colored paint splodges.
“You look surprised,” Adam said with a frown. “Is it really so odd that I paint?”
“Oh no, of course not.” She flushed and added, “I wasn’t expecting a studio, that’s all.”
He narrowed his eyes inquisitively. “Oh? What were you expecting?”
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, but I thought you had a dungeon or playroom or something.” Oh, God, he’s going to think I’ve got sex on the brain.
He grinned and pulled her closer to him. “Are you disappointed?”
“No, of course not,” she said, a little too quickly.
His eyes narrowed even deeper to match the dark tone in his voice. “I may not have a playroom here, but I’ve got a pretty mean toy box, so I wouldn’t get too complacent.”
That was more like it. Her body tingled at the implied threat. She stood slightly on tiptoes to reach his mouth and planted a kiss on his lips. “I’ll look forward to seeing it.” She grinned suggestively and stepped back into the large studio.
“Wow!” She’d had no idea that Adam was an artist, but then again, she wouldn’t have had him down as being owned by two cats either. She walked over to the far wall where several canvasses were leaning, one against the other. She flipped slowly through them, exclaiming at each one.
Some were landscapes of magnificent mountains and lakes, a couple were of the cats and a few were stunning portraits of beautiful women in subtle, but erotic poses, suggesting some form of light bondage. One in particular caught her eye—it was the back of a young woman, naked and kneeling with her hands tied behind her back with a red satin ribbon. It was so simple and yet captured a special moment of beauty and sensuality.
“These are fantastic,” she cried, turning excitedly to face Adam.
“Thank you.” He seemed shy, almost embarrassed at her praise, and her heart melted a little more at this gentle, artistic side of him.
Suddenly, a thought struck her. “The picture of the Northern Lights downstairs, did you paint that?”
He nodded. “I painted that when I was fifteen. I was visiting my grandmother in Norway and the holiday just happened to coincide with the most spectacular lights in years. It brings back wonderful memories, which is why it’s hanging in my living room.”
“Why didn’t you sign it?” She turned back to the stack of paintings, eyeing each one in awe.
He sighed, then from behind stretched his arms around her chest and pulled her close to him. “I grew up on a rough council estate. Boys were tough—they played football and rugby and got into fights, they didn’t paint pretty pictures. I was as tough as the best of them and when I returned home after that holiday with the picture, I was too embarrassed to admit it was me who had painted it. I deliberately left my name off and just told people my dotty old granny gave it to me.”
Rachel was stunned at his words. “You grew up on a council estate?”
“Hey, don’t sound so surprised. There’s nothing wrong with living on an estate,” he said good-humoredly.
“Oh, I know. It’s just that you’re so…so… Well, you’re so educated.” She hoped that didn’t sound offensive, she hadn’t meant it like that, it’s just that she had assumed he came from a privileged background with private schools and nannies and stuff.
“I was lucky. I was bright and breezed through school. Normally the brainy kids got picked on, so I joined every football and boxing club I could and won the respect of the other kids through sheer, tough determination. I could beat most of them, whether it was in a football match or a fight, and they just accepted me as one of the gang.” Rachel smiled and reveled in his soft, deep voice, which tickled her ear as he shared his childhood with her.
“But not enough to make you feel like you could tell them about your painting.”
“Something like that. Have you seen enough?” He turned her around and pulled her close. “I’ve got a sudden craving for dessert,” he growled in her ear.
Her body sprang back to life as if he’d flicked a switch.
She followed him back down to the living room, excitement building with each step. He walked her over to the fire, which wasn’t burning quite as fiercely as it had been earlier, although it still emitted a little heat.
“Stay there,” he ordered.
She stayed put as he walked slowly and purposefully across the room and sat down on one of the sofas. The cats had ventured into the kitchen, no doubt to hunt for any leftovers.
“Rachel, I expect you to obey me without question.”
His words sent sharp shocks of lust through her entire body and her legs quivered slightly as her pussy dampened.
“Oh, and you don’t have permission to come until I say so, is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” Boy, was he back in Dom mode. The sensitive artist and cat lover was gone and the man staring at her from the sofa was hard and powerful. She could literally feel her control oozing out of her body as his dominance overpowered her.
“Strip!” he ordered.
Oh shit. She hated having to take her clothes off in front of anyone, although at least here, there wasn’t anyone else around to see her nakedness.
“I said, strip