Free The British Bondage Collection by J.A. Bailey Page A

she gave her a smile. “If you’d prefer to stroll around the gardens,
Harriet, you are more than welcome.”
    Nodding
eagerly, Harriet grinned. “Yes please. Watercolours bore me I’m afraid and our
local artists are terribly fond of painting the same scene over and over.”
    “Harriet!”
her mother scolded.
    “Well,
it’s true.” Besides she’d rather wander around the gardens and see if she could
bump into the elusive Mr Wright. Hopefully he hadn’t put his top back on yet.
    Elaine’s
lips twisted and she nodded. “Have an explore and then come and meet us in the
coffee shop.”
    “Okay,
see you in a bit.”
    Harriet
strolled towards the back doors, waiting until her mother and Elaine were gone
before dashing through them and out into the gardens. She hurried across the
lawns and tucked herself behind an ornamental bush. Peering round it, her heart
sank. He was gone, along with his exercise mat. Damn.
    A
movement caught her eye and she realised it was Mr Wright talking with a
gardener. Her heart bounced against her ribcage and damp gathered in her pussy.
He was still topless. Yes!
    He
moved away from the gardener and Harriet followed. Was this weird? Yes,
probably, but she had to get a closer look. A body like that could feed her
fantasies for days.
    Keeping
her distance, she followed carefully. He entered the house and she hung back
for a moment before tailing after him. He bounded up the main stairs and she
tucked herself into a recess. Fuck, what was wrong with her? She could hardly
introduce herself casually after practically stalking him. And Elaine said they
weren’t allowed upstairs.
    Her
stomach dipped as she remembered those taut muscles just waiting to be
unleashed on someone. There was something about him that screamed dominant .
Screw it. She would not pass up the opportunity to at least see if she could
steal another look at him. Preferably closer up.
    The
desire coiling through her urged her forwards and Harriet tip-toed up the
stairs, her chest tightening as she waited for someone to come up and demand to
know what she was doing. When she reached the top of the stairs, she paused and
stared around.
    Shit,
he was gone.
    Endless
doors lined the hallway and Harriet walked past them slowly, eyeing each one. A
set of double doors at the end sparked her interest and she put her ear to the
door.
    Nothing.
    Pressing
it open, she peered through gap.
    Oh.
My. God.
    Stepping
all the way in, Harriet’s mouth dropped open. The room was dark - thick purple
damask curtains covered the large windows - but lamps glowed dimly on the
walls, giving off a warm, sensual glow.  A large four-poster bed dominated
one side of the room on a raised platform. Gilded chairs sat to one side and
several mahogany chests lined the walls.
    But
it was not the luxurious fabrics or beautiful furniture that caught her
attention. Padded restraints were secured to the bare wall at the back of the
room and a huge mirror hung opposite the bed. On top of a low cabinet lay a
selection of carefully arranged paddles and whips.
    Closing
the door, she strolled around the room, fingering the restraints and running
her hands across each whip. It’s like a submissive’s dream.
    “Like
what you see?”
    Whirling
around, Harriet squealed as she came face to face with a glistening chest. “Oh
shit.” A smirk came across his face as she remained rooted to the spot, taking
in every inch of his tanned chest all the way down to the towel clasped in one
hand around his hips. Blinking, she brought her gaze back up to his face.
“I-I’m really sorry. I got lost. E-Elaine was showing us around and I…” she
trailed off as his grin expanded.
    “You’re
Harriet then.”
    “Yes,
sir.” Her hand flew to her mouth as his smile widened. Where had that come
from? “Shit, I mean, yes that’s me.”
    “Jonathan
Wright.” He extended a hand. “Say, you’re not Harriet Green, are you?”
    She
took his hand, the warmth of his palm prickling