Authors: Teresa Noelle Roberts
“I love you,” he said. “And I’m sorry. I’ll never hurt you again.” She flashed a ghost of a smile. “Not that way, anyway. Only good ways.”
She sniffled, then wiped her eyes on the back of her hand like a little girl. “You can’t promise someone that. Stuff happens. Things go wrong. People do dumb things. We both did tonight—all along, I guess, not being more upfront about some of the stuff in our pasts. And we will again. It happens in any relationship, but it seems there’s a whole new level of dumb possible, as well as a whole new level of fun, when you start playing with dominance and submission. I saw it with Natalie, but it’s easy to look at her mistakes…”
“And think you couldn’t possibly be that boneheaded.” He kissed her forehead. “And we couldn’t. That doesn’t mean we won’t come up with our very own stupid stuff, but I promise I’ll never lock you in a closet while I’m at work or tell you you’re too fat and refuse to feed you. Especially not if you weigh a hundred pounds.”
“Yeah, and hands off my shoes, buddy!” she mock growled. Then, suddenly sober, “But things like tonight—how do we keep them from happening?”
Nick opened his mouth to say,
I don’t know
, but Alison’s voice, outside the bedroom door, answered. “You talk. You talk a lot.”
“How much did you hear?” Nick said at the same time Selene said, “You were
listening
?”
“Only to the last sentence. Okay, last two.
Hands off my shoes
caught my attention while I was passing and then…”
“Well, you might as well come in,” Nick said reluctantly.
“It’s your bedroom, and we did take it over.”
She opened the door, peered in, saw them heaped on the floor. “Well, that looks promising.”
“Uh…maybe?” Selene said. “A lot better than earlier, anyway.” She sat up, running her hands down Nick’s torso as she did, as if reluctant to let go. “So that’s the solution to everything—talking a lot?” She sounded dubious.
“In any relationship, I think, but especially if there’s BDSM involved, because that adds a whole new level of ways to confuse each other.”
Selene laughed. “We were just talking about that.”
“Just talk?” Nick said. “I knew that. I mean in theory. It even makes sense. But it never worked with Natalie, so I got out of the habit. She didn’t want to let on anything might be wrong until it was far too wrong to fix it, and she’d go ‘la-la-la’ if I had anything to say that didn’t fit the Master Mold.” He realized he was saying it with caps on, the way Natalie always said certain words.
“Well, Natalie’s…”
“Batshit?” Alison suggested.
“I was going to say ‘not me’,” Selene said tactfully. “Is ‘batshit’ the correct clinical term?”
“I’m not sure what the correct clinical term is. I’m a medical administrator, not a doctor. But speaking as her friend, the girl is running from something that’s eating her up inside. She doesn’t need a master right now. She needs a therapist. Preferably one who’ll understand that once she gets more stable, she’ll still need a master, or at least
want
one.”
“It’s like she’s scared to think too much and wants someone else to do it for her. Whether he’ll do a good job or not.”
Alison nodded. “Exactly. And now that we’ve solved Natalie’s problems for her, I’ll leave you again to solve yours.”
She withdrew.
“Talking, eh?” Selene said.
“Yeah. Communication. We talked about that the first couple of times. Then I guess we got swept up.”
“A lot of things are hard to say to someone you don’t know all that well, and we went awfully fast from strangers to…whatever we are.”
“Lovers. We’re lovers. A couple. A couple that has a few things to work out, sure, but what couple doesn’t?”
“A couple. I like the sound of that.” She snuggled against him. “I like that a lot. But if we’re a couple”—she looked up, grinned, and even though her face was still blotchy and swollen and her hair was a crazy mess, Nick thought she’d never looked more beautiful—“will you still spank me and flog me and stuff?”
“Hell yes! If you still want me to.”
“Hell yes! And set rules that are meant to be broken so I can get ‘in trouble’.” She made air quotes. “And make me give you lots and lots of blowjobs, and tie me up and fuck me, and all that other good stuff we’ve already tried. Other stuff too, but we’ll figure that out together as we go along.” Her smile was one of pure erotic glee—a bit at odds with the tearstains, but it went directly to Nick’s groin. Blood pumped, hardening his cock, tightening his balls, sending waves of lust to short-circuit his brain.
“I have a few suggestions,” he said throatily. “We could try some of them now…” Then he looked around, reminded himself where he was. Garth and Alison might pride themselves on accommodating their guests, but taking over their bedroom to kiss and nibble Selene’s bruised and tender bottom, lick her to a series of screaming orgasms, and then fuck her senseless might be pushing it.
Especially since once he got started, Nick had no intention of letting Selene out of his arms until sometime late the next morning, when hunger would compel them from bed.
Long enough to eat something other than each other and then get back at it.
“By
now
, of course, I mean,
once we get home.
But I think we have time for a little taste.” He ran his hands down her ripe body, just skimming her buns, but even that light touch made her twitch.
“They’re so tender,” she whispered, shivering. “It feels great. I love…” But when he raised her skirt, she shook her head. “Not so fast. Talking, right? I freaked out on you tonight. And I need to explain why, before we get carried away and forget and it just sits there waiting to pop out again.
“I can handle you calling my body part a cunt—but not me. Especially not in that angry voice. And then you tacked on worthless. That is not cool. I’ve told you about Molly. Her rat-bastard father used to yell that at her mom—sometimes at her too—even when other people were around. I didn’t know what it meant back then, but it terrified me. I can’t hear those words, especially not in an angry voice, without wanting to run and hide. Or better yet, hurt the person who’s saying them.”
Nick felt his heart—so recently put back together that the glue was still wet—crack again. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Play-humiliation is so tricky to pull off I usually don’t try unless my partner asks for it and gives me ideas, but tonight…” He sighed. “Tonight I felt pretty humiliated myself, because I thought you were rejecting me, telling me I was only good as a rent-a-dom, not a partner. So I was trying to get some of my own back. Stupid. Can you forgive me?”
There was a second’s hesitation, one that seemed to last longer than a second, than a minute, than a lifetime. Nick counted the beats of his racing heart—only a couple—but it still seemed forever before she answered, “Yes, I can. And you know why? Because if anyone else had used those words, I’d have bolted immediately despite the rope and probably kneecapped him on the way out. But I trust you, Nick. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to roll with it, because deep down I must have known that if I did break, you could put me back together. Even though I was afraid you’d reject me for breaking when I did.”
“Never be afraid to safe-word. I don’t want you to be harmed, not ever. And if something does touch a nerve, I promise to be there and help you work through it. Always. Forever.”
This time, when he touched her, kissed her, it was to comfort.
At least that was the intention.
But they both caught fire.
Bodies pressed together as if they’d been apart for years. One of Selene’s small, strong hands sliding down his waistband, gripping and stroking his hard length. He raised her skirt, and this time, she didn’t resist but spread her legs to give him better access. Her pussy was like molten lava, hot, thick juices flowing, and she bucked against him almost immediately, stifling a cry by biting into his shoulder.
Within record time, she’d found a condom in her purse, and he was in the rocking chair with his fly unzipped, a blazing erection sticking up, and Selene was straddling him. No extended foreplay, no games of pain and pleasure, just an overwhelming urge to mate, to merge.
Her warm, soft pussy opened, and she slid down onto him with one quick wiggle. Velvet and honey, he thought nonsensically. Then she whispered, “I bet they have a chair like this for a reason,” and started it rocking. He gave up even nonsensical thought as a lost cause.
Back and forth, the movement of the chair assisted them, raising him to meet her tightening pussy, pulling them apart, then bringing them together, a slow, steady, delicious friction that—if they had been somewhere other than someone else’s bedroom—they could have kept up forever, or at least a good chunk of forever. “Move me,” she gasped. “Need more.” He dug his fingers into her delicious, rounded hips and complied, slamming her down onto his cock over and over again, letting her clit grind against his pubic bone. He could feel her starting to contract again, to tighten around him, and his own body rose to answer, wanting to explode with her.
Or maybe sooner than that, if he wasn’t careful. Between all the intense emotions of the evening, the risk of getting caught and the fact that they’d finally said it, that he was fucking not his sub but the woman he loved and who loved him, who, lucky him, was
also
his succulent sub, was too much.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, surprising himself with the dark whisky in his voice. “I’m going to…”
She grinned. Slipped one hand down to her clit. Circled and flicked as they ground together. Threw her head back and opened her mouth in a soundless howl as her pussy clenched and released, milking his orgasm from him.
He tried to choke back the urge to shout her name, to shout,
Love you
, as he exploded.
He failed.
As they came back to themselves, he looked at Selene, shook his head and said, “Alison and Garth are never going to let us live this down, are they?”
“Do you care?”
“Not in the least.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They left Selene’s car behind, promising to pick it up later. By the time they made it back to Jamaica Plain, Selene was dozing, wine, strong emotion and phenomenal sex combining with the late hour to make her cross-eyed with fatigue. Nick took one look at her, shook his head, tucked her into bed and crawled in next to her.
She scooted over, put her head on his chest and felt a deep sense of peace and belonging as he pulled her closer. They’d been sharing a bed regularly for several months, but this was the first time they’d deliberately fallen asleep so snuggled together. Selene hadn’t thought about it until now, but it was as if they’d both been holding back from that level of intimacy even while they enjoyed erotic pleasures she couldn’t have imagined sharing with anyone else. Now, after the evening’s storm passed, they seemed to be ready.
In the morning, they were awakened by the sound of the front door opening.
Natalie, against all expectation, was home. “Sorry, guys,” she called out cheerfully. “I’m just grabbing my laptop, then going back to Mom’s.”
“Hold on a minute,” Nick said, his voice stern. “We’ll be right out.”
“No need. I’ll be out of here in a sec…”
“No,” Selene said, already grabbing the bathrobe she’d taken to keeping there since Natalie moved in. “We’d like to talk with you.”
They’d had a brief, almost wordless exchange while they reached for clothes, him asking if she wanted him to do the talking, her saying it was her job, at least to get it started. She still couldn’t figure out how they’d said that without really talking. Lots of gestures and expressions, and a deep current of understanding that, she realized, had always been there but was now flowing unimpeded.
She had to be the one to ask the questions, at least at first. Natalie would tell Nick what she thought he wanted to hear, try to appease him. Selene understood that. Already, she knew how easy it was to leave out the difficult stuff when you were eager to please someone.
Not that she was looking forward to the conversation. Confronting a troubled woman and asking her if she’d deliberately tried to screw up their relationship or did it from sheer idiocy wasn’t her idea of a good time, especially not before coffee.
When she actually saw beautiful, graceful, crazy Natalie waltzing around the condo like she belonged there, tact didn’t seem so important anymore.
Not with Nick standing behind her, radiating strength and support.
“Natalie,” she said, “were you screwing with my head or are you just an idiot?”
“What? Selene, I have no idea…”
In her consternation, Natalie dropped the Dunkin’ Donuts cup she was clutching. Coffee splattered everywhere, and the room filled with the rich smell of vanilla-flavored java. “Oh God, I’m sorry, Nick! It’s all over your rug now. Let me get that…”
Natalie tried to dart past them to the kitchen in search of paper towels and distraction.
Selene blocked her path. “But the carpet… Shouldn’t I…”
“Leave it,” Nick growled.
Natalie looked so fragile and bewildered that Selene felt a pang of guilt at pressing the issue. But only for a second. “You broke up with Nick, Natalie. Everyone knew that except me. And you broke up with him because he was falling in love with you, and you couldn’t handle that.”