TietheKnot Read online

  Tie the Knot

  Cynthia Rayne

  John “Sax” Saxon wants his estranged wife Maggie back in his life and in his bed. As his submissive. During their whirlwind courtship and short-lived stint as a married couple, he’d kept his kinky desires to himself, worried that his sheltered wife wouldn’t understand. Now that they’ve separated and counseling has failed them, he has nothing left to lose. Sax is going to show Maggie just how pleasurable submitting to him can be.

  A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Tie the Knot

  Cynthia Rayne

  Chapter One

  John Saxon never remembered their names.

  Not that he really wanted to get invested in the women he, er, patronized. It was a business transaction, nothing more. Flesh and filthy lucre. The last thing he wanted was something personal. Intimate.

  Now that would be a real betrayal of his wife’s trust.

  The woman standing across the room from him made a great show of removing her black designer suit. Most working girls dressed as if they were businesswomen. The disguise made it much easier to glide past the hotel’s front desk. With her back to him, Lori seductively slipped the jacket from her narrow shoulders, revealing the silky lingerie beneath. Or was it Lily?

  She wore a black bustier and teeny tiny matching panties with lace stockings. Linda winked at him as she brushed her bleached-blonde hair to one side and seductively shimmied the black flared skirt down past her supple thighs. It dropped lower and lower until it formed an ebony pool at her feet. She deliberately took a long time, showing off her tanned ass cheeks and the pink pussy lips underneath the see-through fabric.

  Lila was gorgeous. He recognized that on an aesthetic level, but she was much too thin, not his type at all. When he’d glanced at her photo on the Pandora’s Box website, she appeared to be a bit larger. Shapelier. Skinny wasn’t his beat. No, he preferred larger, curvy women with full asses, luscious thick thighs and big, full breasts. Women who looked as if they could handle a deep, hard, dominating fuck. Like his wife, Maggie. But he was here alone with a woman who indulged his desires. For a price. So he wouldn’t let the hotel suite go to waste.

  Laura turned, lowered her eyes and walked toward him on very high patent-leather heels that clicked on the parquet floor. She wore a light citrus-scented cologne, which tickled his nose. Sure sign of a pro. No telltale overtly feminine perfume that might be carried on a man’s clothes back to his wife. No lipstick that could be kissed off either, just a light-pink gloss.

  Not that he had to worry about a suspicious wife at home. Maggie hadn’t lived with him in nearly two months. This transaction with Lola was a poor substitute.

  Laura lowered her voice and spoke in such an affected, throaty whisper it nearly caused a burble of hysterical laughter to erupt from his lips. “I’ve been such a bad girl, sir. I need a good, hard spanking.” Although his cock didn’t have a sense of humor, it stood at attention.

  Bloody fucking hell.

  Sax casually sat on the orange chaise in the hotel living room and patted his lap in an inviting gesture. A luxurious king-sized bed beckoned a few feet away but he preferred to keep this light. A couch was far less romantic and, to be honest, he was somewhat pressed for time.

  Lacy. That was her name. It had been bugging him. “Then come here, Lacy, and you shall have one.” He seriously doubted her real name was Lacy. Like actresses, they utilized stage names to protect their privacy. Although he didn’t care who she really was. She was merely a stand-in for the real thing.

  “If you wanted me to, I could slip these panties right off. We could, um, renegotiate my fee for any…additional incurred expenses. Not for sex, of course. That’d be wrong.” She winked at him.

  Why the subterfuge? In case the police had bugged the room or he was some sort of snitch?

  She came to stand in front of him, her red-polished nails making a seductive pass over the edge of her panties. Dipping below the waistline. What a little tease. “If something were to happen, it would be between two consenting adults.”

  He raised a brow. Sax had no intention of letting anything like that happen. He had been faithful to Maggie and intended to honor his promise, even if he had broken the spirit of that vow by indulging his proclivities.

  Besides, he’d never paid for the sexual services of a woman, although he did employ them for the purposes of discipline. He had no intention of starting now.

  “It is a very tempting offer but no, thank you, Lacy.” He was aware how absurd the situation was. In a few minutes he’d have a half-naked woman on his lap, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t do more. He and Maggie might be separated, but he was still in love with her. He didn’t want another woman in his bed. And he would lose his mind if she slept with another man.

  He played with his wedding ring, spinning it around and around on his finger as he briefly contemplated walking straight out of this room, leaving Lacy and her silk underthings gaping at him. Touching another woman felt wrong. It was wrong. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed release. Felt compelled to do this.

  “Now lie down on my lap and do your level best to be quiet. I don’t want the neighbors calling the concierge. That would be embarrassing for both of us.”

  She made a face because he didn’t snap up her bait, but obeyed. Once she was situated, Sax closed his eyes and thought about his wife. He loosened the tie from his throat and curled the red fabric around her wrists. When he finished, he admired his handiwork as she tugged at them. Unable to get loose.

  He summoned Maggie’s image in his mind, pretended she was the girl sprawled upon his lap, her lush hips pillowed on his thighs. Her juicy white ass at his mercy and eager for his discipline, his cock. He would start slowly, make her worry. Run his fingertips along the cheek of her ass. Teasing her. Letting her anticipate the slap to come. He loved this part, toying with the submissive.

  Lacy just started to relax, rest against him, and then he brought his hand down.

  He pictured the long silken length of Maggie’s red hair tickling his hand. To cut the sting, he caressed each supple cheek before delivering a slap to either side. Then he soothed it again and admired his handiwork. She wore cheeky panties, so little half-moons of creamy white flesh were revealed and they had turned an enticing shade of pink.

  He could feel himself grow hard. His cock rearing to life. For the past month he’d been on a sexual bender of sorts, hiring a pro sub once a week or so, so he could spank her. He was no longer content with memories of his college youth spent in the fetish scene or the wicked DVDs that arrived in his mailbox in telltale slick black wrappers.

  He had to have the real thing. Maggie.

  But he seriously doubted Maggie would ever let him touch her like this. Just like his former fiancée Allison, Maggie would run from him if she knew what he really desired from her sexually. No, his desires were best confined to random women. In his single days after Allison, he’d even frequented bondage-friendly clubs prowling for submissive women with a dominant male friend of his, Drake. Together they’d fucked women. It had been sexually gratifying, if empty. Much like paying a woman to let him spank her.

  He slapped her bum again and Lacy made a lusty porn-style groan but he ignored it. He focused once more on the woman of his dreams. Maggie, hot and eager for him. “Such a naughty girl,” he muttered. “You know you deserve this, don’t you?”

  “Yes sir!” She undulated against him and he gritted his teeth. He was hard, hard as a rock and in need of release.

  God, he wanted his wife so badly. Wanted to have her at his mercy like this. This was nothing more than a substitute, an inferior bit of cold comfort.

  Lacy moved again and he unseated her unceremoniously, nearly landing her on the
floor. He ripped off her restraint. “Hey, wait! You paid for the entire hour.”

  “Keep the change,” he called, crossing to the bathroom and locking the door, lest Lacy’s avarice drove her to attempt to talk him out of a few quid for a shag in the shower. He shucked his blue suit, folding it neatly on the marble countertop, and then the rest of his clothes. The last thing he removed was the silver Rolex Maggie had given him. He left that on the top.

  He stared at himself in the mirror. Studying his reflection.

  Enough. You are better than this.

  His cock still stood proud and at attention. The head dipped and bobbed as he imagined taking Maggie here, bent over the marble counter. He picked up the watch and checked the time once more. He only had forty-five minutes to jerk off, shower and get to his counseling session.

  He climbed into the cool porcelain shower stall and turned on the hot water, letting it roll over him in waves. Sax pushed his head under the water spray and thought of his wife.

  Maggie bent over the back of the chaise, ass high in the air, her little panties down around her ankles. He’d come up behind her and slide his thick, aching cock inside her. Just like that. Straight into the moist heat he had missed so much. God he loved the feel of her tight pussy around him, milking his cock as it pushed in her. Over and over again until they were both panting and satisfied.

  Alone in the shower, Sax pumped his cock, gliding his hand up and down the thick shaft all the way to the plump purple head. He growled as he came, spurting, hitting the black tile with his sticky white cum. With a sigh, he braced his arms against the wall and watched as the water sluiced down over his body, washing away the remains of his orgasm, the lemon-fresh scent of Lacy and the betrayal of this desperate act.

  Sax knew he couldn’t do this anymore. It was time for a bloody change.

  * * * * *

  “We’re skipping therapy this afternoon.”

  Maggie jumped at the soft-spoken voice that came from just behind her. Sax. She’d know the deep baritone anywhere.

  She turned to look at him and sucked in a bit of the chilled air. Immaculately dressed in a gray pinstriped suit, Sax gave off an aura of power. He was an imposing man. Six-foot-six and built like a linebacker with broad shoulders and strong arms. He had mischievous blue eyes, short blond hair and a wicked English accent.

  Was it any wonder she’d fallen for him on their first date? And hadn’t been able to stop since.

  She’d just gotten out of her car and was about to walk into the office building to meet Dr. Brown. She and Sax had a standing weekly appointment for marriage counseling. Not that it had done much good, but they both dutifully attended every week.

  “Why would we skip it?” she asked, arching a brow.

  He gave her that confident courtroom smile, the smile he used to sway juries and, no doubt, charm sorority girls out of their panties in college. A smirk filled with masculine arrogance and magnetism that made her shiver.

  “Talking with a stranger about marriage hasn’t solved a damn thing, has it?”

  She sighed, exasperated. When she’d proposed therapy, she thought it might help. That maybe a professional counselor would be able to pry open those taciturn lips of his, but he’d remained just as closed off, only now it cost him four hundred dollars a week to not talk to her.

  “Then why did you agree to counseling in the first place?”

  “I did it for you.” He shrugged. “Because you wanted to try it. At first? I thought it might help, but I can’t talk to her.”

  Maggie had the sneaking suspicion she was the one he couldn’t actually talk to, but she didn’t press it. “Okay.” She rubbed her temple with a gloved hand, trying to stave off the threatening migraine. “So, what’s plan B? Do you want to try another therapist? Would a guy be easier to open up to?”

  “I think only you can solve this particular problem,” he said, practically purring.

  She hesitated for a moment. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I’m going to buy you some coffee. We’ll sort this out over some caffeine.”

  “But what about our appointment?” Maggie felt like groaning. They’d tried it on their own and it hadn’t helped. Now counseling seemed to be a bust. “You already paid, we might as well go.”

  “I’ll cancel it.” He grinned, plucking his cellphone from his coat and then dialing the number. “Go ahead and get in my car to warm up while I get us out of the meeting.”

  Maggie locked the door of her sedan and trudged through the mixture of salt and snow to Sax’s black SUV. She hopped inside, turned on the heated leather seat and slumped down in the chair.

  She wondered if she’d been kidding herself, using therapy as a way to postpone the inevitable. She and Sax were over. It had been a mistake from the start, really.

  They’d had a whirlwind courtship, getting married after they’d only known each other a few weeks, and they’d separated just after their first anniversary. Frankly, this all seemed to be hopeless. They should just admit the truth and agree they’d made a terrible mistake.

  He climbed in the car and smiled at her.

  His grin wasn’t infectious. She just stared back at him.

  “No problem. I gave our apologies to the good doctor and got out of our appointment.” He put a soothing hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off. “Come on, don’t look so down. All things are better with a little coffee and caramel.”

  Damn that man and his freaking charm.

  Her lips twitched. Sometimes she thought he could seduce her into anything. In fact, he had the night they met. She’d ended up sleeping with him, even though that went against her dating rules.

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But I want a huge coffee and cheesecake brownie too.”

  * * * * *

  Twenty minutes, later they had gone through the drive-thru at Starbucks and were in front of the fireplace at Sax’s modern and almost clinical-looking apartment.

  She’d been in doctor’s offices with more warmth.

  He had all-white furniture with silver metal accents. Hardwood floors, a wall of windows with a spectacular view of Washington DC. But it was cold. There were no photos, plants or knickknacks to distract from the clean lines. Nothing warm about this place.

  She’d lived here with him but it had never felt like home. It had always bothered her. It was his place, not their place.

  She sat gingerly on the white sofa. She’d always been worried about spilling something on it. Thank God she hadn’t given up her loft apartment in nearby Adams Morgan and had just sublet it on a month-to-month basis, or she would have had to scramble to find an apartment when they’d separated.

  He retrieved a DVD from his media shelf. All of his DVDs were alphabetized and sorted by genre. Like everything in Sax’s place, it was manically organized.

  But she’d never seen the hidden DVD stash in the slick black box, situated behind all of the Harry Potter movies. He placed one in the player and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

  “You said you wanted to talk privately, that’s why we couldn’t stay at Starbucks but I’m not in the mood to watch a DVD with you. This isn’t a date, it’s a discussion.”

  “We are going to talk first, but eventually you will need to see the DVD.”

  Well, that sounded ominous. What the hell could be on the video?

  She wrapped her chilled hands around the thick paper cup to warm her icy fingertips before she took a long, slow sip of her caramel macchiato. Having this conversation wasn’t going to be easy. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the caramel and coffee work its magic as she willed herself to be open to what he had to say.

  I will not lose my temper. I will NOT lose my temper.

  She nodded toward his drink. “How’s your tea?”

  Sax set his cup on the coffee table. “This isn’t tea, Mags.” He pried the lid off and hoisted the tea bag from his cup to show her. “This bag of stuff is the remains of the tea leaves yo
u find at the bottom of a proper box of loose tea. It wishes it were tea.” He let it plop back into the brown water with undisguised disdain.

  “Then why did you order it?”

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m English. What am I going to do, drink coffee?”

  Her lips twitched, but immediately she squelched it. No flirting. She was just here for information.

  He looked uncomfortable. She was used to seeing him in charge of a situation, at ease and confident, but he seemed troubled and that set her teeth on edge.

  He didn’t speak and neither did she and the silence stretched between them. Awkward and endless.

  She took a bite of the brownie and chewed, but it tasted like ashes in her mouth. Her stomach churned as she wondered what awful thing he would say. She plopped the brownie on a brown napkin and sat back, folding her arms over her chest. “Okay, I’ve had my coffee and chocolate, so I’m highly caffeinated and very calm.” She blew out a slow, soothing breath. “Let’s talk.”

  He splayed his hands in a supplicating gesture. “I don’t think marriage counseling is working and I don’t want to do it anymore.”

  She nodded. “I agree. But it isn’t working because you don’t want to open up.”

  “Agreed. No more counseling.”

  Minutes passed.

  “So, what is it? You don’t want to talk to the doctor or to me?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not it at all. There is a situation but I can handle it by myself.”

  Situation.

  That could mean anything. She bit her lower lip. Something had been bothering her for the six weeks they’d been separated, but she hadn’t voiced it. Sax worked at a law firm with many attractive women and he put in long hours, working well into the night. Of course, she’d wondered if he’d had an affair, met someone else. But she had wanted him to tell her of his own accord, not because she’d brought it up. She didn’t want to seem suspicious or jealous, but she had to know.

  “Okay. I need to ask you a question. I’m not making an accusation. I’m not going to lose my cool. I just want a straight answer. Whatever you have to say, I can handle it.”