She examined the women around her, as Helen continued to give advice to the group, all of whom had tears in their eyes. She wondered if she’d touched their hearts when she spoke, quite possibly gotten to the root of their pain. As she continued to scan the faces around her, a sudden clarity filled her mind.
I don’t belong here.
Charles would never want this. So many years after his death, he would be heartbroken to see her in this place, talking to others about how much she missed him, still wishing and hoping that he’d come back to her.
We have one life to live, Mary, let’s live it right,
Charles had said to her when he proposed.
Since he’d left her, so much time had passed.
She’d spent years of not truly living, but coasting with all her emotions closed off so as to be strong for others. Now that barrier was gone. She knew she had shut down, refusing to feel anything, knowing how much it hurt. She’d gone as far as to shut out every single friend of Charles’s, as it’d been too hard to see them, and she’d even done that to Dmitri for a long time.
She wasn’t broken any longer, or at least she didn’t feel that way now. Only gratefulness touched her.
Once she’d had a man that measured up to no one. A man who had given her a life of happiness she never thought she’d have. A man who had gifted her with more love in not only his touch, but in the children they had together.
Charles and she had their time.
Time that she’d never have again.
Time that she would never forget.
Though there was another man who made her feel all of what Charles had. One man who stirred that quivering sensation inside her that made her body awaken and freed her mind. A man who made her feel as though she was meant to be on this earth to make more than herself happy. That she could give to someone else in the way that she needed to be given.
A man that made her feel alive.
Elliott…
“Mary, do you feel sometimes as if you’re alone?” Helen asked.
She snapped out of her thoughts, replying without really thinking about it first. “Alone, no. Lonely, yes.”
Helen smiled. “You have us now. You can come to these meetings whenever you need to talk or to share how you’re feeling.”
Mary looked from sad woman to sad woman, and something in that knowledge didn’t make her feel good. No one knew her in this room. Not truly
her.
Not a single person understood her lifestyle and what she needed, as a submissive, to be centered.
Her grief and sadness hadn’t led her to be surrounded by people who loved her. It led her into a room of strangers.
Why am I choosing this life?
She chose loyalty to Charles over her happiness, even when Charles, her Dom, had ordered her to do exactly the opposite. She wasn’t being loyal to him, not in the way he would’ve wanted. She was being loyal in the way her heart thought it needed to be.
Charles would want her to be loved, and he definitely would be happy to know that she was being cared for by a Dom, who gave her everything she needed and more.
Elliott was a lot like Charles.
Their connection was very similar to what she had with her old Dom.
That’s what made it so special.
Though she realized the differences, too: Elliott wasn’t Charles.
As Mary scanned the expressions of misery around her, she knew with total certainty she did belong…just not here with these women. She rose from her chair and headed for the exit. “I’m sorry, I must go.”
“Are you okay?” Helen called after her.
Mary glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “You know, for the first time in years, I actually think I am.”
A few minutes after nine o’clock on Saturday evening, Elliott leaned against the brown leather chair and sipped his scotch on the rocks. Tonight he wanted to be anywhere but at the play party. A day had passed since he’d sent Mary the flowers, but he hadn’t heard from her. While he had hoped she’d taken his advice and gone to the widow’s group this morning, he also sensed the slide of disappointment that their support hadn’t led her into his arms.
Needing silence, he rose from his chair, leaving the sensual sounds behind him and ignoring the naked bodies delighting in erotic adventures. He entered the patio and inhaled the rich scents of the greenery around him, embracing the warm air. He hadn’t played since his last night with Mary, and he sensed the strain within himself. It’d been years since he hadn’t had his Dominant needs met at his parties.
That was the very reason he arranged the parties, to ensure that that side of his cravings was satisfied. He worked better and was happier if his Dom was fulfilled. A long sigh escaped his mouth as he moved toward the corner of the dark patio.
Beneath a gas-lit lantern, he took a seat on the wicker chair, staring out at the stunning Vegas strip lit up in its glory. He took a sip of the scotch, letting the woodsy taste sit on his tongue and leaning his head against the wall.
Soon the party would be over.
Then he could go home.
As the cool liquid slid down his throat, a scuffing noise caught his attention. He looked ahead of him, and his gaze drank in the sight of Mary. Her dark hair was curled, hanging over her shoulders of creamy skin. A black lace teddy covered the slender frame on top of dark stockings.
He swallowed deeply as Mary held his stare, standing only a foot away. The original strength he’d seen inside her shone in her beautiful dark eyes, only this time it was different…potent.
With a sensual slowness, she slid one spaghetti strap off her shoulder. Then she repeated the move with the other, and within a breath the fabric fluttered to the ground. Elliott’s shoulders straightened as she exposed her naked body to him.
Desperation filled him to examine the stomach she’d hidden from him, but for now he lifted his focus to her eyes, which were surrounded by dark makeup. Her features held confidence and that bit of sass that had originally snagged him.
She was flawless.
He glanced over her, as she stood in only a garter and black stockings, and her exposed flesh sucked the air from his lungs. It took all of his strength not to go to her. The past hurt between them made him stay in his seat. “What are you doing?” he asked.
She laced her hands behind her head, widening her legs and standing in the submissive posture he had once told her he preferred. Her breasts rose, her perky nipples puckered, ready for his mouth. “I’m here, naked before you, baring it all. I am hiding nothing.”
He hesitated, not letting her off easy. “Why?”
“To ask your forgiveness.”
Warm happiness rushed into his mind, as did hope. Though he’d already made enough assumptions that had left him hurting. “Why?” he asked again.
Tears welled in her eyes. “To be yours, Elliott.”
Nothing was more stunning than a vulnerable submissive. There she stood, pouring her heart out for him and putting it all on the line.
So damn beautiful.
He didn’t move from his seat, letting her give him this moment and offering herself to him. He would damn well make sure her apology counted. “How can I believe you see me, not Charles?”
“I’m…” Her lip quivered before her voice strengthened. “Your touch felt like his. Your mastery reminded me of him. But I cannot have Charles anymore. I want what
you
give me, not what I had with him.”
Elliott placed the scotch on the table next to him, then rested his arms on his legs, staring at her intently. “What do
I
give you?”
A single tear slid down her cheek. “You make me want to love again.”
He noted her wobbling on her feet, and not wanting her to strain, he ordered, “Kneel. Hands on your thighs.”
She slowly lowered to her knees, then peered up at him through her thick lashes. “What you did…that card you gave me…” She shook her head and said softly, “You reminded me to live.”
The pain in her voice, matched with the tears on her face, pulled him forward. He could no longer avoid her, needing—always needing—to be close to her. He squatted before her and tucked his finger under her chin. “I did nothing but give you a way toward healing. A way for you to see that you belong with me now. That the only thing that was standing in your way to happiness was
you.
”
“Yes, there is that,” she whispered. “But without you, I never would have seen that I died with him. I would never have allowed myself to put Charles’s memory to rest and to see that I’ve been lucky enough to have had not only one soul mate, but I’ve been blessed by having two.” Tears streaked her face, and her expression was as honest as he’d ever seen it. “I died with him. I don’t want to be dead any longer.”
“You’re not dead, darlin’.” He cupped her face, staring into her beautiful big brown eyes. “You are more alive than any woman I have ever known.” Wiping the tears off her cheeks, he added, “I can share your heart, but only so far. I deserve to be seen, not because you are forgetting Charles, but because I mean just as much to you. There is room there inside of that sweet heart of yours for both of us.”
Her breath hitched with her tears and she shook her head. “I don’t want you to be Charles. I want to experience something new. I want
you,
Elliott. I want the hands on my body that freed me when I thought it could never happen again.”
A hot burning rushed through him, and he rose, lowering his hand from her face. Words could say a thousand things, but action was stronger. As a submissive, Mary was asking for her Dom’s forgiveness, and he needed to allow her the right. He saw her slight tremble, the longing in her gaze that she didn’t need a hug or a kiss to apologize.
She craved to do something
more.
Mary needed to please
her Dom,
and make them both feel better.
She was requesting to take what belonged to her.
He had to allow her to.
A swell of submission crossed her face, reflecting in her soft gaze, and as her jaw relaxed, he experienced the exact moment when she let it all go. When she welcomed him right into her soul would be a memory he’d never forget.
Mary no longer fought her submission.
She ached to please
her Dom.
Standing over her, he knew exactly what she needed, and he was more than willing to see that regret cleared from her eyes. He gestured to his pants. “Show me that you’re now mine.” He brushed his finger over her bottom lip and she sucked in his finger, her gaze speaking of purpose. “Yeah, darlin’, drink me right into your soul.”
The hard wood pressed against Mary’s knees as exhaustion ran through her, both emotionally and physically. She was also aroused and burned in every place possible.
Forgiveness,
she needed that.
His touch,
she craved it.
His cock,
she desired to prove to him he was the only man that mattered to her.
Since they’d met it’d all been about her and what she needed. Now she was desperate for it to be about only Elliott. This was for him, because he deserved to be made to feel good. He deserved to have a woman think only of
him.
Always of
his
needs.
She reached for Elliott’s belt buckle and he unbuttoned his dress shirt, then tossed it to the ground. When she lowered his pants and boxer briefs, his swollen cock rested at her face. She licked her lips, gripped him, and stroked him.
Veins stood out from the sides of his penis—so aroused for
her
—and she leaned up, dragging her tongue along the bulging vein. His low groan vibrated through her as he tossed his head back, tangling his fingers into her hair. At the tip of his cock, she swirled the head, loving his scent, his taste.
She wanted him to
feel
her appreciation for what he’d done for her and for what he’d shown her. How much she owed to him. His patience, his persistence, it had all brought her back from a darkness that she didn’t realize she lived in.
His thick cock swelled in her hands as she dipped her head, sucking a testicle into her mouth. When she ran her tongue up the front of his cock, he lowered his head and his blazing eyes held hers. While she knew she had done all she could to show him she was sorry, she knew she needed to do better. She had insulted him as a Dom, not appreciating
him.
Tonight she would make up for it. “This cock, Elliott, it’s perfection. So big. So hard.”
“For you,” he murmured, sliding his knuckles over her cheek.
She cupped both hands over his shaft and he went rock hard beneath her touch. She leaned over him, letting saliva drip from her mouth onto his cockhead. Then she worked both hands over him in a steady rhythm. “So powerful. So seductive. You make me ache for you.”
He groaned, arching a brow. “Winning me over with pretty words, Mary?”
“No.” She bobbed on the tip of his cock before her lips popped off. “Saying things you deserve to hear. A man as good, as sexy, as you deserves to be told how incredible you are. Do you like knowing that I’m wet for you? That I’m throbbing for this beautiful cock to drive deep inside me, to fill me and make me scream? That I crave your touch, your ownership of me?”
His low moan brushed across her and she increased her speed with her hands. She pumped his shaft, sucked on his penis with a long, sensual embrace, drawing in her cheeks around him. “Fuck, Mary,” he growled, fisting his hands in her hair.
Her mouth slid off him and she jerked him with quick strokes. “Are you going to come, sir? Let me taste all of you?”
“Yes.” He grunted, gripping her head tight and thrusting his hips. “Put your mouth back on me.”
Her pussy clenched and her clit throbbed as she drew in his musky scent, returning her lips to his beautiful cock. She sucked him hard and stroked his shaft, and his legs started trembling. His low moans made her so damn wet. So incredibly needy. His fingers tightened painfully on her head and she sensed his muscles stiffen seconds before his cock went rock hard against her tongue. Then he was roaring and bucking against her mouth.
The warm, salty liquid brushed over her tongue before quickly sliding down her throat. She licked his cockhead, gathering every last drop, and he gasped, breaking their contact. Dark, lust-filled eyes stared back at her as he slid his thumb over her bottom lip. Seeing him fulfilled warmed her heart. His happiness touched her in places that made her feel equally content.
He exhaled a long deep breath and winked. “Your mouth, darlin’…it’s damn good. Any Dom would be sending you to your knees often.”
“No,” she replied, gazing at him and speaking of the truth she’d long fought. “Not a Dom.
You.
My mouth belongs to you, to please you, and to show you just how wonderful you are.”
A softness reached his eyes she’d never seen before and it brought forth her tears. As he dressed, Mary waited, watching him, aching between her thighs and feeling the wetness on her sex as she squeezed her legs together.
Once dressed, he offered his hand. “Come up.”
She rose and he guided her toward the chair. As he sat down, he tugged her between his legs. His gaze went to the stomach she’d kept from him. She knew why he made such a keen point to look at her; he proved his ownership.
She’d hidden from him.
He wouldn’t allow it anymore.
She’d no longer run.
He trailed a finger over the smaller stretch mark at her hip. “What child did you get this one with?”
She glanced down. “Christian.” Sliding her finger over the one on her right hip, she added, “Calvin.” Then she touched the largest stretch mark that went from her belly button down to her sex. “This one is from Cassie.” Lifting her gaze, she laughed softly. “She’s always been the most difficult.”
He gently smiled and then slid his hands up her thighs, cupping her bottom and dragging her closer. He kissed each mark before he said, “They are the marks of three beautiful children.” His voice dropped lower and went hard. “If I hear you or see you hide these marks again, I will punish you by leaving welts on that sexy ass of yours, so then you will really have marks that result in shame.” His brow arched. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No, Mary,” he said in a low reprimand, swatting her bottom, making it burn. “You call me Elliott. Always Elliott, so I know you are only thinking of me.”
“Yes, Elliott.” She held his stare, then cast her gaze downward, shame thickening her throat. “I behaved—”
“Like a woman suffering from a broken heart.”
A cool tear ran down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He tucked a finger under her chin, commanding her gaze and staring at her with warm, soulful eyes. “You came back to me. That’s all that matters. Now tell me what happened at the meeting.”
Mary wiped away her tears, not wanting to cry anymore.
No more sadness.
“I sat there and listened to women mourning their husbands, and yes, I understood them. But all I kept hearing and seeing was women who had no hope.” She paused, knowing she had to get this right. “I guess that was me before. I’d given up on life, but then there was you…”
Another tear that she couldn’t control slid down her cheek, and this time Elliott brushed it away as she added, “I kept thinking I’m not like them. I do have hope, and I have it with you. When Charles died, I promised him to go after love if I ever found it again. I realized in that meeting I wasn’t only letting him down, letting you down, but I was letting down myself, too. I feel something with you. Something that is familiar. Something I lost. Something I yearn for.”
His smile spoke of heady emotion. “To be
mine.
”
“Yes.” He was a man who saw right into her soul and had earned his place in her heart. A man who hadn’t taken no for an answer, because he had seen something special between them that she hadn’t instantly recognized. A man who held enough confidence to give her the space and time she needed, but an arrogant man who hadn’t allowed her to run. “You gave me a safe place to heal and find out what I want, and I want to be happy again.”