Finally! I’ve managed to complete the latest episode of the The Garden of Earthly Delights. I realise it’s been a while since I posted part nine, so if you’ve forgotten where we’re up to, a very quick recap …

Since their disastrous scene in part one, which resulted in Grace running out of Nick’s house half-naked, the pair of have – in spite of Grace’s reluctance – been doing a bit of talking. Nick, with some judicious blackmail, has managed to manoeuvre Grace into having dinner with him and at the end of part nine, the latter was coming to some uncomfortable realisations about herself. In this episode, things … start to heat up a little.

PS: I know that the dress and stockings in this episode pic aren’t a perfect match for Grace’s attire in this scene, but the grip He has on the fabric? Well, read on and you’ll see what I mean …

 

THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS – PART TEN

 

Watching Grace struggle with her feelings was almost painful. Inebriated by conflicting emotions, she was wobbling left and right like a drunkard attempting to walk in a straight line. Nick could clearly see the war she was waging with herself and by default, him, playing out across her face.

He forced himself to pick up his cutlery and continue eating, giving her the space she clearly needed to calm herself and absorb the impact of his words.

The silence between them stretched, the only sounds the low hum of conversation generated by the other diners and the distant clattering of pots and plates in the restaurant kitchen.

Three minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Grace kept her head down, seemingly absorbed with pushing the remainder of her meal around on her plate. She was no longer eating so much as playing with her food.

Enough. He could see her slipping into herself and if he allowed her to back away from the conversation they were having, it would be far worse for her in the long run. More than anything, she needed to find peace with what she wanted. Needed to understand and not fight it. To stop floundering beneath the shame and disgust she was obviously piling on top of herself.

Nick finished his last mouthful of lamb and lifted the starched white napkin from his lap to wipe his lips before tossing it on the table and calling time on Grace’s silence.

‘Was it the thought of being punished that scared you?’

Grace’s head came up so fast he was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash.

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’ He kept his voice low and firm, making sure his tone indicated that he wasn’t making a request, that her response wasn’t optional. ‘Answer the question, please.’

Grace’s lips opened, then shut. He could almost see the words gathering in her mouth, trying to get out. It was as if they were held back by an invisible net woven of her reservations and insecurities.

Nick didn’t blink, keeping his eyes locked on hers, everything inside him willing her to have the courage to open up to him. It was like watching a fish struggling on a hook and just as painful.

‘It … It seemed … silly.’

‘Silly?’ Not what he’d been expecting her to say. ‘How do you mean?’

‘The idea that you and Tristan were going to punish me for something so … trivial as opening my eyes. And that I-’ Grace looked at the tablecloth, seemingly fascinated by it.

He waited for her to finish her sentence, aware that pushing her at this point would more than likely cause her to clam up on him. When she finally started talking again, her voice was very quiet.

‘That I wanted you to.’ Her eyes jerked up to search his. ‘How is that normal, Nick? It’s not as if I’m a naughty five-year-old. Why would I want you to treat me like one?’

Nick felt a surge of satisfaction and relief wash through him. Finally, finally, they were getting somewhere. ‘Is that what frightened you? The idea that you might enjoy the punishment?’

She nodded. ‘I know it’s stupid. I know. I tell you to do all these things to me and turn into a spineless, snivelling idiot when you actually take me at my word. I hate myself for it. I just … don’t understand how I can want this. None of these feelings make any sense and they scare me.’

Nick saw the moisture gathering in Grace’s eyes seconds before she was able to raise her hands to dash it away. Without hesitating, he rose and dragged his chair around the table to sit beside her and turned her to face him so that they sat knee-to-knee. He pulled her fingers away from her face and held them firmly in his, uncaring that his actions and Grace’s tears were drawing surreptitious stares from the other patrons. ‘Grace, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being frightened.  But you can’t let that fear stop you from reaching out and taking hold of the things you enjoy. The things you need. Because if you let your inhibitions rule you, you’ll never get what you truly want. Believe me, I know.’

He transferred both her hands into his left one and lifted his right to brush away a hot tear that was slowly trickling down her cheek. It left a watery smudge across her pale skin. ‘You’ve waited a long time to let this part of you out. Don’t close the door before you’ve had a chance to let it breathe.’

Grace shoulders shook as she fought to get a grip on herself. ‘What if I can’t Nick?’ He felt her fingers clench and unclench beneath his palm and when her eyes rose to search his, her uncertainty fairly screamed at him. ‘What if I can’t let go? Fighting myself this way is exhausting.’

‘Is everything all right with your meal, sir?’

Nick silently cursed at the waiter’s courteously concerned and impeccably ill-timed intrusion. He forced himself to be polite but he didn’t look away from Grace.

‘We’re fine, thank you.’ He cast an assessing look at Grace’s half-eaten plate of food and came to the conclusion that she was unlikely to eat anything else. More importantly, she didn’t need an audience watching her have a meltdown. ‘We’d like the bill now, though.’

‘Of course, sir.’

Nick listened as the man walked quickly away, waiting for his footsteps to fade before speaking to Grace again. She was undoubtedly at a tipping point but too nervous to send herself over the edge of the precipice she was perched upon. The question was, was she ready to tumble and how hard should be push her? He debated silently with himself, turning over everything she’d said to him in his head. If he didn’t challenge her, she’d hide from herself. If he pushed too hard, she run.

Nick felt a rush of adrenaline as he made his decision, hoping it was the right one.

‘Grace, your safeword is red. For the rest of the evening, you will not speak unless I tell you to. Nod if you understand.’

 

…….

 

Part of Grace froze in shock at Nick’s words. The other part immediately sat up in excited anticipation. What the hell was he doing pulling the Dom card on her after everything that she’d just told him? Was he totally mad? And in a restaurant full of people of all places.

He’s not asking you to have sex with him in a roomful of strangers, Grace. In fact, he’s probably chosen to do it here, with other people around, so you don’t feel cornered.

They weren’t going to be here for much longer though, were they? What would happen then?

You have a safeword. If you get scared, use it. You know you can trust him to stop. He did before.

But what if she lost it again? She didn’t think she could take the humiliation of that a second time.

‘Grace. I’m waiting. Nod your head if you understand what I’ve asked you to do.’

She opened her mouth to tell him ‘no’ and, inexplicably found herself nodding her head in acquiescence.

Nick didn’t say a word. Merely stroked the back of her hand with one of his thumbs, broadcasting his approval of her response through his touch.

‘The bill, sir.’

‘Thank you.’

Nick let go of her to pull his wallet from the pocket of his suit jacket, which he’d slung over the back of his chair.  She watched silently as he handed over his credit card to the waiter and he ran it through his machine. Her mind felt slightly numb. Weirdly, the oppressive weight of the emotions that had pushed at her while speaking to Nick had eased off in the face of his sudden and unexpected shift into Dom mode. Her focus had shifted almost entirely to him. She had no idea what Nick was thinking, what he planned. Grace supposed it should worry her, especially after last night, but strangely, it didn’t.

The waiter handed Nick the receipt for his card payment before smiling politely at them both, wishing them a pleasant evening, and walking away, albeit with a few curious backward glances. Unsure of what was expected of her, Grace kept her eyes on the table and forced herself to take slow breaths while Nick tucked his billfold back into his jacket. He pushed his chair back and stood over her as he folded it across the crook of his arm.

‘Stand up please, Grace.’

Her reaction to his quiet order was automatic. She rose as gracefully as she could and smoothed her dress down before bending to pick up her tote from the floor and settling it over her shoulder.

And then Nick’s warm hand was at the small of her back, gently pushing her towards the exit. The contact sent a heady cocktail of excitement and dread racing though her. As they approached the door to the parking lot, Grace couldn’t help but think of their passing through it as symbolic. That the door marked the start of a journey into an abyss of feelings and experiences she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with. Nick seemed to sense her hesitation at the threshold and Grace was momentarily surprised when he allowed her to pause for a few seconds before they ventured out into the warm night air. It was as if he understood their passing over it in the same way she did.

The evening breeze licked gently across her skin as she and Nick made their way towards his Defender. He’d parked in the shadow of an old elm tree, which had somehow survived the construction of the building housing the restaurant on one side and a row of Victorian-era shops on the other. Rather than guiding her around to the passenger side of the car, however, he bought her to a stop next to the driver’s door, removed his hand from her back, and tossed his redundant jacket on the roof. Grace could see herself reflected in the glass of the windows, Nick a shadowy form in shades of grey and black behind her.

‘Turn around and put your bag on the ground, Grace.’

She turned, her heart starting to thump a rapid tattoo in her chest, and let the shoulder strap of her bag slide down her arm. She caught it in her fingers and placed it gently on the ground before raising her eyes to meet Nick’s. Every part of her cried out to ask him what he was doing but she forced herself to remain silent. To wait.

He smiled.

‘You’re doing beautifully, Grace. I know this isn’t easy for you.’ She could hear the warmth and approval threaded through his voice and savoured the little flame of pleasure that lit her belly at his praise. ‘I can see how badly you want to question me. I’m impressed with your restraint. And your trust’

Grace couldn’t help but shift her weight from one foot to the other as Nick fell silent and studied her for no short while, letting the quiet between them stretch. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

‘You may nod or shake your head to indicate ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Otherwise, the no talking rule still stands. Unless of course you need to use your safeword.’

Grace at once felt hot and cold. What was he planning on doing in a public carpark where anybody could stumble upon them? She glanced apprehensively at the buildings surrounding them and the nearby street. It was a weeknight, so things were relatively quiet, and they were in the shadows, but still …

‘Close your eyes, Grace, and don’t open them until I tell you otherwise.’

She tried to make out Nick’s face in the dimness. How far was he going to take this? When she didn’t immediately comply with his request and continued to stare at him, he took a single step towards her. Her heart beat faster. It took her a second or two but the desire to follow his order was stronger than the urge to disobey him. She let her eyelids close and immediately tried to reach out with her remaining senses.

Robbed of sight, all her remaining instincts seemed to kick into overdrive – her sense of hearing, her sense of smell, her sense of touch.

At first, all she heard was the breeze gently rustling the leaves overhead and the sound of cars driving on nearby roads. But gradually, she became attuned to Nick, could hear the air moving quietly in and out of his lungs. Sense his presence a foot or so away.

And then, suddenly, without any warning, his torso was pressed against hers, pushing her against the side of his car, his clean, masculine scent invading her nostrils. He didn’t touch her with his hands, just used his weight to pin her against the cool metal body of the Defender at her back. His breath rushed warm and steady across her left cheek and she realised his lips were practically touching her ear.

‘Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you submit to me, Grace? How badly it makes me want to fuck that gorgeous pussy of yours?’ he said softly.

The blunt declaration caused a wash of heat to her face and Grace thanked God it was dark so that Nick couldn’t see her reaction. None of her previous partners had ever had the nerve to talk to her like that but the jolt of heat Nick’s words elicited twisted a rope of desire deep in her pelvis and she couldn’t deny their effect on her. They both embarrassed and turned her on.

‘Well, Grace? Do you?’

‘N-no.’

Nick’s chest lost contact with hers and a sharp, piercing pain radiated from her right nipple as his fingers pinched it in a firm grip. Her eyes threatened to open with the shock of the sensation; even muted by the material of her dress, the pressure was hard enough to make her cry out. But almost immediately, Nick’s lips were on hers, drinking the sounds as they escaped from her throat. The feeling of him at her mouth, his tongue stroking gently across hers was in total contrast to the sensations elicited by his fingers. When she finally quieted, he lifted his head.

Grace’s head spun as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Her nipple was throbbing from the effects of Nick’s fingers and but the initial pain had morphed into a hot yet fast-fading ache that was somehow provoking sharp shards of arousal to pulse between her legs.

‘I believe the rule I gave you was no talking.’ His voice sounded like rough gravel and Grace could feel Nick’s warm lips just brushing the outer shell of her ear as he spoke.

She realised that even though he was once again pressed against her, he hadn’t removed his hand from her breast and his thumb was gently stroking across her abused nipple. It felt … amazingly good. Unthinkingly, she pushed into his hand to increase the pressure.

Nick laughed softly and immediately removed it. ‘I don’t think so, Grace. I decide when and how to touch you – not you.’

She barely refrained from groaning in frustration at the loss of the contact but was almost immediately distracted by the teeth that clamped gently onto her earlobe and the feeling of Nick’s erection pressing into her belly. This time, she forced herself to keep completely still, unwilling to do anything that might make him move away. He was hot and hard against her even through the fabric of his trousers, undoubtedly aroused, but he made no further move to touch her. He simply pressed his body more heavily against hers before releasing her ear on a sharp nip and dropping his head to the curve of her neck. His teeth scraped gently over her exposed shoulder.

‘Keep your arms at your sides.’

It was as if the air had thickened and become a viscous soup, so difficult was it for Grace to pull it into her lungs. Nick hadn’t restrained her, hadn’t blindfolded her – wasn’t really even touching her – yet he’d managed to manoeuvre her almost effortlessly into an undeniable state of arousal. Was it really that simple? That easy to let him take her where she needed to go?

‘Stop over-thinking it, Grace.’ The words were accompanied by a starburst of pain in her left nipple and she realised, dimly, that Nick’s fingers were slowly twisting it though the fabric of her dress. Fighting not to cry out, Grace bit her bottom lip and leaned forward to bury her face in the front of Nick’s shirt. The cotton was smooth against her cheek as she gasped in a breath, trying to absorb the pain he’d caused, but within seconds, it had disappeared, replaced by a wonderful aftershock of throbbing that gradually faded as his Nick’s thumb once again massaged her erect flesh to soothe the hurt. He didn’t immediately make any move to push her away from him but allowed her to lean against his shoulder and absorb the gentle motion of his touch before moving his hand from her chest and shifting her backwards so that her bottom rested against the door of his car. She was glad of the support. In less than five minutes, Nick had reduced her to mass of conflicting sensations, all of which were tangling together to create a volatile cocktail of sexual need.

‘Open your eyes, Grace.’

She did. Nick was standing inches away from her.

‘Stand up straight and lift up your dress. Legs slightly apart. Keep your eyes on mine.’

What? Despite the excitement that was thrumming though her, Grace momentarily baulked. What if a car drove past? What if someone came out of the restaurant and saw them?

‘Grace, the only thing you need to concern yourself with is following my instructions.’ Nick lifted a hand to touch her face. ‘Trust me, it’s dark enough that no one’s going to see anything they shouldn’t.’ A smile caused his lips to part slightly, revealing the whiteness of his teeth in the faint moonlight. Grace was struck by the fleeting impression of a wolf on the hunt. ‘Well, except for me that is.’

Grace swallowed and tried to stand a littler taller on her shaking legs. The movement caused her thighs to brush against one another and her knickers to shift slightly with the change in position. With a start, she realised that they were absolutely and thoroughly soaked. Her first thought was how thankful she was that Nick couldn’t see the wetness that was undoubtedly seeping through the material in the darkness engulfing them. Her second – and far more horrific one – was that she’d neglected to change out of the obscenely large and unattractive pair of pants she’d pulled on that morning in her rush to change before dinner. Lighting or no lighting, there was no way in hell he was going to miss the circus tent she was wearing beneath her clothes.

‘Grace.’ Nick’s voice was a rolling growl. ‘I’d suggest that you don’t keep me waiting.’

Before she lost her nerve and with a last quick look around to see if anyone was watching them, Grace hooked her fingers into the skirt of her dress and pulled it up around her waist.

‘Eyes on me.’

She jerked her gaze to Nick’s, and although the darkness made it impossible to see them clearly, despite the fact that his nose was a mere inch from hers, she could still sense the arousal blazing out of them. He leaned forward and placed a line of soft, feather-light kisses along her jawline, working his way from her ear to her mouth. He stopped, his lips barely touching hers, settling on them like a moth on a bead of unbroken dew.

‘Tell me, Grace,’ he whispered. ‘Are you wet?’

She opened her mouth to respond and promptly shut it, just managing to remember that she wasn’t allowed to speak. She nodded, too nervous to lie in spite of her embarrassment.

Nick grunted softly and she heard him breathe in through his nose.

‘I can smell it, you know. Smell all that gorgeous moisture pooling between your legs.’ His hands settled on her hips next to where hers were holding the fabric of her dress at her hips. Grace felt him run his fingers along the waistband of her knickers and hook them beneath the elastic. She braced herself, expecting him to push them to her feet but, to her surprise and mortification, Nick broke eye contact and dropped to down in front of her, his thighs resting on his heels, his nose a hair’s breadth from the soaking wet material covering her pussy.

Grace blushed to the roots of her hair and barely stopped herself from shoving him away from her. She sensed rather than saw Nick’s smile. He looked up at her.

‘Watch.’

She couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to. Nick’s eyes were locked back between her legs and the ghastly pants he was slowly pulling down her thighs, inch by excruciating inch, to reveal the bare skin of her mound.

Thank God she’d had herself waxed in preparation for the disaster that had been the previous night. Grace wasn’t sure she could have coped with the dual humiliation of revealing giant knickers and pubic hair that hadn’t been landscaped for months due to her lack of any sort of sex life.

To his credit, Nick seemed wholly unconcerned with her choice of lingerie. He simply continued to draw her pants down until they rested at mid-thigh. But when he stopped the slide of the fabric, he didn’t remove his hands. Or look away from her pussy. He was so close to it, Grace could feel his warm, wet breath brushing her clitoris every time he exhaled.

She couldn’t help herself. She squirmed, trying to bring her legs slightly closer together in a futile attempt to shield her exposed flesh.

Nick’s fingers tightened uncomfortably against her skin in warning and he glanced up at her.

‘Did I ask you to move your legs together?’

She shook her head jerkily, felt her ponytail brushing across her back.

‘Move them apart. And keep them there.’

His gaze dropped back to her pubis, his grip not easing off until she’d complied with his orders.

‘Now, Grace. I’d like you to show me just how wet you really are.’ He paused for a moment, letting his words hang in the air between them. ‘You’re going to touch yourself. And I’m going to watch you.’

……

Enjoying the story? Click here to read part eleven of The Garden of Earthly Delights.

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