Chelsea's Twelve Days of Christmas

"Do I detect a soft spot in the armour that makes you seem better than us mere mortals?" Zander asked, surprised that Harry was worried about Chelsea's answer to a proposal from one of the most eligible bachelors in the city if not the country.

"She's the one," Harry admitted not arguing the point. "Even Superman had a weakness where Lois was concerned."

"Does the X-man know?" Zander looked over at where Xavier still stood with Chelsea and Ashley. His favourite past time had always been stealing away Harry's women.

"Yeah I think so, it won't slow him down much. I imagine he's trying twice as hard," Harry eyed the small group and saw Chelsea turn to look at him with a smile. "I don't think it will do him much good, though," he said confidently.

"I think it's time to go, the kids will be up early whether we like it or not," Alyson came to sit beside her husband. "I take it you will be bringing the lovely Chelsea tomorrow?" she asked Harry.

"We won't be staying long, so don't go to any trouble, on my behalf," Harry smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry; I thought Trent had confirmed that with you already." The stiffness returned to his voice.

"He did, but she's different to the women you usually date, so I wanted to be sure," Alyson eyed her husband's closest friend. He never apologised for anything, let alone a woman he was with and her eyes went to Chelsea.

"Not my type?" Harry asked with a chuckle.

"Maybe not in looks but probably more your type than previous candidates," she said critically. "She certainly doesn't seem clingy or attention seeking. She's pretty normal as far as I can see."

"Looks can be deceiving. Did I tell you that she is Riley's best friend?" Harry asked letting his stiff formality drop slightly.

"That's the mutual acquaintance you met through?" Alyson was aghast. She'd met Riley several times and liked her but never had a strong connection with the woman who was briefly engaged to Harry. "Is that why you split up?"

"No, in fact, Riley was the one who encouraged me to get to know Chelsea. We remained good friends after the broken engagement," Harry said.

"He had Michael do a pre-proposal for him tonight," Zander chuckled. "He never does anything unless he can win, so he sent Michael in with a promise ring because no one can say no to him."

"He might be overstating It a bit," Harry scowled at Zander. "I've already made a proposal that would be beneficial to us both." His body language stiffened with his voice. "She just hasn't given me a definitive answer yet." He admitted and immediately regretted it. "On that note, I think It's time to go," Harry came to his feet.

"Not so fast. A proposal shouldn't be beneficial. You say you made a proposal like you handed Chelsea a prenuptial agreement and expected her to sign it, like some business agreement. If you want her to say yes, you have to make a romantic gesture. You're not acquiring a business or real estate here, Harry," she shook her head in wonder at the man. "You are a good, kind and generous man and any girl would be crazy to turn you down but she's not any girl, she's different." Alyson lectured Harry. "I'm not saying you have to fly her to Paris and do it on top of the Eiffel tower, but you have to make some sort of romantic gesture when you ask her, that shows that you can't live without her in your life."

"He's never had to work hard to get a woman to yes to anything before," Zander chuckled and slapped Harry on the back. "Welcome to the real world, my friend. You can hedge your bets as much as you like but when you ask, you need to show your vulnerable to the answer. It lets them believe they're in control if only for a few minutes in your case."

Chelsea had seen Harry get to his feet and immediately moved back toward him hearing the murmured tail end of the conversation and not quite making it out.

"Here she is," Alyson said. "We have to go, but we will see you tomorrow," she leant forward to kiss Chelsea's cheek. "No convincing Michel to elope with you, though, okay?"

"I don't know, he's pretty cute," Chelsea said with a quirk of a smile. "I'll try to restrain myself, though."

"We're leaving too," Harry informed Chelsea abruptly taking her hand in his. Alyson's lecture had reignited his displeasure with the answer she had given the boy. What he and Chelsea had was essentially a business agreement. It was what she wanted in exchange for the particular skills she possessed, thanks to her time at Innamorata. That had changed though over this last week, and now that feelings were involved it was becoming messy, and for the first time in many years, Harry felt out of his depth and lacking control over an element of his well-planned life. He did not like feeling this way, and he knew he needed to address the situation and take back the power she held over him.

They'd said their goodbyes to their hosts and followed Zander and Alyson out of the beautiful modern home. They'd driven home in silence, with Harry seeming to be sullen. Chelsea wasn't sure what had occurred between him and Zander, but his change of mood appeared to be sudden. She had been standing just out of his arms reach for the first time that night, and she hadn't heard anything more than a murmur as the two men spoke and Alyson joined them. She wished now that she'd been more attentive. They left in a flurry of kissed and embraces, and they travelled home once again in silence.

"Thank you, Thomas," she said quietly as she got out of the car and walked inside with Harry, who hurried her up to their bedroom and pounced on her pinning her to the wall and kissing her deeply.

"You've known about my proposal for over a week," he growled. "You've let me talk about plans for the future and said nothing to discourage me," his eyes flashed at her angrily. He dragged her across the room and through his office to another door and stairs that led up. "Then you try and act all innocent and say I haven't asked you to marry me?" He continued to scold her.

She stood alone and confused in the dark room for what seemed like forever but was probably only a minute when the soft glow of warm golden light lit the space from a myriad of wall sconces and down lights.

"Get rid of the dress," he barked at her from a distance as he moved around the room pulling items from display cases and draws. He had sat all evening stewing on her words to Michael, but it wasn't until Alyson spoke that he realised Chelsea was manipulating him into a romantic declaration of undying love. If it was a declaration she wanted, she would get it, but it would not be the one she expected. She needed a reminder that he was in control here and holding him over a barrel like this deserved consequences.

Chelsea remained silent as she looked around the room. It was just as Riley had described it, a dungeon with a wide range of torture devices available for his use. She wasn't afraid, despite his anger, she knew he would respect the universal safe words of yellow and red. She had wondered whether her response to Michael might have pushed to him react badly, and now she realised he'd been simmering on this anger all night. She felt a shiver of dread and anticipation roll through her.

"Did you expect some big flowery speech about love and commitment with the way you confused and tormented that kid tonight?" he raged as he stalked back toward her. "Haven't I given you enough of those in the last two days for you to realise that this is more than some fucking deal Isabella is forging for you." He pulled her forward into the centre of the space. "You want an honest proposal you got it, this," he spread his arms, "This is what your future looks like with me. I wasn't going to show you this until you signed that fucking proposal officially but if you expect me to jump through hoops for you, then you better start jumping through them for me. This room can bring you sweet, sweet, pleasure but it can also bring you agony untold." He threatened her knowing the words were empty, this room was about pleasure more than pain.

She made no excuses, feeling a little frightened now, but clinging to the knowledge that he would respect her safe words. She silently accepted that she was being punished for what he viewed as manipulation and she had to admit she wasn't sure how he would take the idea of her wanting a proper proposal. She felt a heavy wooden bar come to rest across her shoulders and her arms lifted one at a time to be secured tightly to it in cuffs. Looking along its length, she realised that it was secured to the ceiling with chains which were eventually tightened to take most of the weight of the bar from her.

"Twelve fucking days Chelsea! You want hearts and flowers after twelve fucking days!" he murmured in her ear standing behind her and taking off her necklace replacing it with a heavy leather posture collar. "You want soft sweet vanilla love tokens, haven't I given you enough during these twelve days? When you left, and I brought you back, we made those declarations of love with our actions. You love me. You know it, and I know it. I was willing to wait until New Year's Eve, for the official announcement. I was willing to share this with you on that great night, but you had to push me. All you had to do was say yes and take the fucking ring!"

His hands dipped into the demi cups of the corset she wore and pulled her breasts free to float above the stiff fabric of the garment. He pinched her nipples cruelly twisting them as he pulled them out from her body making the flesh stand up in pointed cones. Her whimpers seemed magnified in this room as if they almost echoed back at her and her eyes widened at the acoustics. He had been murmuring the whole time she realised yet it seemed so much louder.

"I won't tolerate manipulation, especially not from the woman I love. His hand landed on her ass making a resounding thwack, and she gasped. "I have warned you that I am a bastard repeatedly. I told you that even my friends think I am an asshole. I told you that should you deserve it, I would punish you!"

Chelsea head the angry threats but her brain froze on the words, "woman I love" that had spilt so easily from his mouth. She knew he cared for her, but strangely in this torture chamber, with his anger at her boiling over she felt it. He loved her, and she wasn't afraid. She closed her eyes admitting she hadn't believed it was all true until that moment and as his hand landed on her ass again she felt a tear fall to her cheek.

His hand had landed harshly on her ass each time he made a new declaration, and she whimpered, her breathing coming in short gasps as she gave in to the punishment she knew she'd earned by continuing to play the game never truly believing that they could live happily ever after.

Chelsea felt the heat from her ass move through her to mix with the butterflies that ravaged her tummy. She knew him better than he thought she did. He may have been a perfectionist, an asshole and a complete and utter bastard at times but those who knew him respected and loved him, and that told her far more about his character than his outbursts of temper when his plans didn't run smoothly.

Her thoughts whirled as she felt him remove her panties and his hands secure her ankles to a spreader bar that he pushed open until her high heel shoes barely touched the floor. He raised his arm and smacked her on such an angle that she began to spin in the bondage he had placed her. His hand lashed out alternately slapping her breasts and her ass as she continued to spin.

The spin slowly stopped, and when she saw him in her view again, he held a whip. Real fear surfaced in her, and her eyes widened as her feet danced to stop herself from the slowing spin. His arm raised and the whip flicked out curling around her torso. She felt the blow but not the sting because he had left her corset in place and she let go of the breath she had been holding without the scream she thought would accompany it.

Tiring of the whip quickly he picked up a flogger with long tendrils and began to paint her ass and breasts again until they glowed with heat and pain once more. Finally, he moved to her and kissed her, licking a salty tear from her cheek. His hands moved deftly to undo the corset and suspenders throwing it aside. One hand trailed down over her belly to the wetness between her thighs as the other mauled a breast.

"You love this, don't you?" he taunted as his fingers slid between her slick wet lips. "I think I knew you would, that was why I was reluctant to rush this moment of discovery," his murmur was deep and heated; she tilted her hips rocking against the touch of his fingers as she hung in the restrictive position. "Answer me," he growled the angry spark re-entering his eyes.

"Yes, Drake," she whimpered unable to deny the heat and need evident in her voice and body.

"The things I want to do to you," he growled deeply and kissed her again in a long slow possessive kiss. Breaking the kiss his hands travelled down her legs one at a time removing her stockings and the shoes that that kept her feet grounded making her dance on the tips of her toes to maintain some stability. His hands ran up her body teasing her again once he was done removing every stitch of clothing from her.

"All those mundane questions I have asked in your time here with me, did you think I was just filling the silence?" he asked not needing an answer. "I'd planned to give you the proposal you waned and deserved on New Year's Day, all you had to do was promise Michael that you intended to marry me," he said huskily his hands returning to maul her breasts which rose and fell with her ragged breathing. "But you didn't say yes, did you?" he asked his hand flashing down to slap her breast. "Instead you tried to manipulate me into the hearts and flowers declaration that was already yours." His eyes bored into hers. "Now if I follow my plans through you will think that it is because you forced my hand and in this relationship, I may listen to your requests and grant them more often than not, but you will not force me to any action through manipulation," he growled.

Chelsea understood all too well how he had taken her words now. Harry was a man who controlled his life fanatically. He trusted few people but those he did trust became part of his inner circle on his terms, not theirs. He would rule in their family if he still wanted to marry her. The thought that she might have ruined everything with one small conversation with a little boy suddenly struck her. After everything she had overcome in the last twelve days and all the forgiveness he had shown her could he be ready to throw it away because of this one moment?

"I'm sorry," she whispered feeling the magnitude of her mistake. She had stopped short of voicing the excuses that threatened to fall from her tongue because she hadn't known or understood properly what the little boy was asking.

"You will be," he murmured moving a chest of draws like you would see in a museum to where she hung limply in the middle of the room. He opened the long thin drawers looking through them. Unable to bend her head in the stiff posture collar she couldn't see the contents until he lifted a large butt plug to her view. It had a handle topped with a flat disc that showed a pale pink gemstone that glittered brightly. "Your engagement ring is an argyle diamond not much different in appearance to this," he squirted a small amount of lube on the plug as he spoke. "I have wondered how the colour would look against your skin," he ran the smooth gem over her chest as his now greasy fingers ensured it was coated in lube.

With his free hand, he released the chain that held the bar at her shoulders allowing her to plant her feet on the ground and the heavy wood to bend her slightly forward. He moved behind her encouraging her to bend as much as the chains would allow and take the weight from her. Then he slowly inserted the plug and smiled as the gem glittered from between her cheeks. Chelsea had bitten her lip and whimpered as he added to her torment. She felt him rub the head of his cock down over the gem and through her wet lips grazing over her swollen clit, adding to her need for him. She moved slightly thrusting her ass back at him.

"What do we say?" he growled slapping her ass.

"Please," she whimpered becoming overstimulated by the harsh attention he was raining down on her.

"I just gave you something, and you are already asking for more? What a greedy woman you are tonight," he slapped her again.

"Thank you, Drake," she immediately recovered, but her need was still climbing as he continued to tease her with his cock on her clit. "You're right I am greedy because I want you, I want this, here with you, please Drake." She moved to thrust her ass back toward him again.

Surprised and pleased by her words, he slammed his cock into her without warning, revelling in the cry that reverberated around the room. Her sounds during sex were always so small and lady-like that he soaked in the louder than usual cry. He reached forward and grabbed her breasts which swung from her slightly bent body and roughly used them as handles as he pumped into her, his thighs slapping loudly against her with each thrust. He felt her come moments later, and he clenched his teeth against the milking motion of her pussy, as her orgasm ripped through her. Unable to hold himself back he groaned loudly as he came too. His lust and the need he felt for this woman unable to be denied here in this room.

Concerned about the weight being put on the restraints in this position particularly the stiff collar she wore he undid her wrists leaving the bar hanging from the chains and helped her to kneel before him. He didn't need to ask as she immediately leant forward to clean his cock of their come. Her tongue moved in feather-light strokes over him, causing his cock to harden again as he thought of what he had come here to this place to do.

Eventually, he pulled her from the floor and picked her up carrying her awkwardly to a segmented bench and lay her down with the spreader bar resting on the padded bench holding her legs wide apart and plug still in place. Chelsea twisted her head moving her neck within the tight collar. It was far less uncomfortable in this position than it had been when she was bent forward.

Harry pushed over the museum chest and a stool on wheels which he sat on looking down into her face. He had rapidly become infatuated with this woman, he admitted. He had thought himself in love in the past but what he felt for the gorgeous woman looking back at him at the moment was far more than he had ever expected to feel in a relationship. He knew what he planned to do next could damage how she felt for him, but he wanted and needed it from her at this point.

"What is happening in this room tonight will be as bad as it will ever be when you are my wife, does that scare you?" he asked gently smoothing her hair back from her face.

"No, Drake," she smiled softly at him them. "I don't believe you are a sadist who will force me to endure pain without pleasure. I trust you to respect my safe word should I ever feel a need to use it."

"I would," he said in a serious tone taking in what she had said to show her understanding of what this room meant to him and them as a couple. "The use of this room will not be an everyday occurrence, but I would like to be able to share it with you when the time is right, or I have a need to reinforce my role within our relationship, as I do tonight. I don't want, nor need, a modern-day woman who can do it all. I don't want a wife with a career or a needy group of family and friends. I want you and I want this."

"I understand, what you want and need. A man with different needs would not have come to Innamorata seeking a wife," she said softly.