The Virgin

Chapter Two

James took her hand and led her down a long, ancient hallway. Portraits of nobles, dead long ago, followed them as they walked the faded red carpet and ascended on a set of stone stairs to the next floor. Lightening flashed, creating angry shadows in the castle. A suit of armer seemed to move with a flash. A portrait of a young noble woman winked at Sophie.

The wink reminded Sophie of someone she knew long ago. And the castle reminded her of somewhere she'd once run to and hidden herself away. The convent. Her mother's convent. The sound of her feet on the stone floors brought to mind the years she'd lived in her mother's convent. It wasn't a full year, but it was close enough. Close enough that she she thought of it always as 'that's year'.

She pushed thoughts of the past away. The now was far more pleasant. Through a wooden door, they entered the bedroom. The fireplace was dead and cold, but no matter. Linen sheets and silk pillows invited them to bed. All they needed was each other for warmth now.

James left her standing close to the bed as he lit the bedside lamp for light and the candles on the fireplace for ambience. Sophie slipped off her shoes and let her feet sink into the soft woven rug. She put her flowers in the ice bucket, displaying them on the table by the bed might be a little too much even for James, so she set them on the fireplace mantel instead.

"We have made love in a castle, have we?" Sophie asked as she turned from her flowers to glance around the room. She walked from the stone fireplace to the hanging tapestries on the wall with unicorns, dragons, and knights.

"Belgium," James said as he walked over to the bed, carrying a box in one hand and something long, thin and wrapped in cloth in the other. He snapped his fingers, and she quickly moved to his side.

Sophie smiled at the memory of a journey through Belgium they had taken together. An anniversary gift from Robert.

"We will always have Belgium. And what was her name?"

"Alisha." James opened the box that held her collar.

"Oh yes, that was it. She was fun, wasn't she?" While travelling Belgium, she and James had toured a little brewery and had met a beautiful translator named Alisha. After the tour, Alisha had come back with them to their hotel room in a renovated castle. Sophie had been very young then, only twenty-four, and had never been intimate with a woman. James hadn't touched Alisha that night but had certainly enjoyed watching the two of them together.

"You're smiling, Little One?" James brought her collar and locked it around her neck. While his fingers were at her throat, he toyed with her necklace. It had three charms on it - two rings engraved with the words 'Everything and Forever'and a small silver locket Sam had given her. They made a clinking sound like tiny wind chimes when she moved.

"Good memories," she said. "So many, I've forgotten some of them."

"Speaking of memories, I have a gift for you. A gift in memory of something."

"You didn't have to get me anything," she said, keeping her eyes low, respectful, submissive.

"I know that," he said with an air of arrogance she'd always loved and loathed equally. "But it was time I gave you this."

He held out the bundle, still covered in its cloth wrapping.

"What is it?"

"You'll find out. Do you accept this challenge?" he asked, his eyebrow crooked, his smile tight but amused. She was thirty-eight now, and she had loved James since she was fifteen... and yet... after all this time, he could still scare the s**t out of her.

God, she loved him.

"Yes, sir," She said.

James cupped her face again and kissed her lips.

She stood unmoving and made no protest as James stripped her down naked. He unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her arms. Under her shirt, she wore a black corset, which he took an unnecessary long time unlocking. The more eager she was to have him inside her, the longer he took getting me there. Her own fault for falling in love with a sadist, not that she regretted it. He unzipped her leather skirt and pushed it over her hips and down her legs. His fingers on her bare skin as he unhooked her stocking set her to shivering,even more when he tickled the bottoms of her feet as he pulled them off.

If she hadn't loved James before, she would fall in love with him again for looking at her body with the same desire he had once gazed at her younger form. She'd never suffered from lack of self-esteem and had, more than once, been accused of being egotistical. A woman who took money from men for the privilege of letting them worship her had to have more than her fair share of confidence. But finding herself much closer to forty thank thirty had taken a little getting used to.

Time had only increased James' beauty. The grey in his hair could barely be seen in amongst the blond. The years have sharpened his features, scared off the rough edges, and sculpted him into a man worthy of all the respect and love she had to give him. She had an older man to adore and a younger man who adored her.

Life was good.