Free The New Rakes by Nikki Magennis Page A

desk to Mike. ‘Enjoy your stay,’ he said, his face darkening under his white stubble as he turned and hurried away.
    ‘Shall we?’ Mike said, gesturing to the stairs.
    Kara stood in silence. Her heart lurched and then froze, as though a sliver of ice from the champagne had lodged in her chest. She felt as though she was rooted to the spot.
    ‘Something the matter?’ Mike asked, a note of irritation creeping into his voice. ‘You’re not going to run off again, I hope.’ He rattled the keys and shoved a hand in his pocket. When Kara didn’t respond, he walked to her and took her arm. ‘If you want to walk away now, that’s all right. But this will be the last chance I’ll give you, Kara.’
    She looked at the stairs. Small white lights dotted each tread, like the lowlights in a theatre that showed you where to walk when the power went off. In the hallway the scent of lilies was overpowering, as sweet and heavy as a drug. Mike was next to her, stroking the underside of her arm where the skin was soft, and breathing evenly. It didn’t matter that her heart was squeezing in her chest. Kara’s body was still oiled, weak and ready with want for Mike. She let him lead her, across the hall and up the staircase, towards room number five and whatever awaited her.

7
    HE CLOSED THE door behind her. ‘Christ, you’re quite pale,’ he said.
    She looked around. A lot of polished wood and white linen. More flowers on the table, black tulips this time, the stems bowing under the weight of the full, sleek blossoms.
    ‘Nice,’ she said faintly.
    ‘Well, it’s a hotel room. What were you expecting – chains and a rack?’ Kara pressed her lips together. Mike laughed. ‘I don’t need any fancy props right now. Just you.’
    His voice had changed, subtly. There was a dark quality in his words that she could hear very faintly, like the flow of an underground river. Kara wanted something to hold on to but there was nothing near her, and so she stood in the centre of the room just as he’d told her she would, waiting.
    He was unknotting his tie, pulling it through his hand to loosen the creases, and she listened to the faint hiss of silk as it slid over his palm. She was shaking a little, the ghosts of uncertainty and anticipation whirling around her. As Mike came close to her and took her hands, Kara concentrated on the feel of him, on how he held her so gently as he looped the tie round her wrists.
    It was all new and she let the movements unfold in a series of strangely delicious sensations – the feel of her arms pulled back behind her so that her breasts thrust forwards, the tight binding of the fabric against her wrists that felt surprisingly like a very warm, very safe embrace. Most of all, she felt a rushing , a widening expanse that flowed from her joined wrists and her rigidly bound arms. She recognised it, suddenly, as the sensation of power finally slipping away from her, and wondered how it could make her feel quite so free, almost as though she were flying.
    He tugged on the knot to test it and stood behind her, running a finger down the curve of her spine.
    ‘Remember, any time you want to stop, say “Stop”,’ Mike murmured, his mouth next to her ear, his lips brushing her lobe. And then his hands were slipping under her arms, sliding over her belly and digging under her waistband. She leaned back against him, trying to push her buttocks against his groin, but he held himself at a distance.
    With Mike behind her, and her wrists tied, she could do nothing to stop him and nothing to help him. He continued at his own pace, pushing her skirt down to her knees and leaving her like that, naked but not graceful, twisting her hips in midair.
    Just as he’d told her he would, he reached up to undo her bra, pulling it up so that her breasts hung loose inside her shirt, tender but tight, her nipples burning against the slight rub of the ribbed cotton. Kara was undone, her front bared and Mike’s hot hard