The Velvet Collar

by C. P. Mandara

  "Jen takes after her mother in that respect. She was always into the kinky stuff." Rupert looked thoughtful for a moment, and I bit my tongue. If that was how he wanted to play it, I wasn't going to enlighten anyone. "Anyway, we spotted Kyle on camera and managed to catch him injecting Jen with a tiny little tracker which is not much bigger than a grain of rice. Impressive, eh? Modern technology never fails to astound me." Rupert shook his head in awe. "After that, of course, it was all plain sailing. We had one of our hackers find the device, thankfully there aren't too many of them in circulation at the moment, and hey presto; there you were at an abandoned house on the outskirts of London." He looked at Jen and then jumped. "Oh, that reminds me. I'd better text your mother and tell her you're okay. She's been going crazy this past half hour and has threatened to decapitate me at least twice. I wouldn't put it past her to have a go at it, either."

  Letting my head drop face first into the thin mattress of the stretcher, I prayed that the morphine would kick in quickly. This was all too much to take. Way too much.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - Jennifer

  Mark spent three days in hospital as they assessed the extent of the damage he had suffered under Kyle. Thankfully it was nothing that wouldn't heal, which took a good deal of weight off both our minds. They insisted on checking me over, too, even though I protested. I was also given the all clear.

  For the first two days, both of us did little except catch up on missed sleep, fluids and food. There was only so much trauma either of us could deal with. Eventually we managed to fight off the miasma of exhaustion that had penetrated our room and were finally able to say a string of more than three words to each other.

  Sitting at my husband's bedside on the third day of his treatment, I was pleased to hear he was feeling much better and was almost entirely off his pain meds. This, unfortunately, gave us a lot of time to talk - we hadn't done much of that lately - and he had plenty of things to say about my very dysfunctional family.

  "Holy fuck, you've got a mother who's in the Mafia and a father who's in MI6? Can this get any worse?" He looked horrified, as well he might.

  Settling in bed beside him, which was strictly against hospital policy, I put an arm around his neck and whispered in his ear, "Is this going to interfere with your world domination plans, darling?"

  He pulled me in close to him and buried his fingers in my hair. "No, but it might interfere with my plans to dominate you. I like my testicles firmly attached to my body." My husband had a frown on his face, and it was clear he was concerned. I resisted the urge to laugh.

  "Well you'll just have to hope my father is a reasonable human being, won't you?" I flicked my hair back over my neck and grinned at him.

  "If he's related to you there's no chance of that!" Mark had a point.

  "Let's not talk about my family now. That's a conversation for another day. We don't even have to invite them back into our lives if we don't want to—"

  Mark was quick to interrupt. "Then let's not."

  "Let me finish. We don't have to invite them back into our lives, but it might seem a touch ungrateful after they rescued us from a fate worse than several deaths. They might be handy people to have around, just in case. You never know who might want to kidnap one of us next."

  Mark bit the bottom of my earlobe and growled. "That's not even funny."

  "It wasn't meant to be. I had no idea how exciting being married to you was going to be."

  "You haven't seen anything yet, darling." Mark moved from my earlobe to nuzzle and nip my neck, and I moaned before he stopped abruptly.

  "Oh shit, I completely forgot. You could be pregnant, right? The drowning incident..." Mark tailed off, and he didn't need to say any more.

  "I talked to the nurse about that. She said that if I miss my period, then she'd schedule an appointment with a specialist and we could take it from there, but I don't think I am."

  "How would you know? If you were, the baby wouldn't even be as big as a pea right now." Mark squeezed his thumb and forefinger together to illustrate just how tiny the baby would be, and I smiled.

  "I'll know when I'm pregnant." I nodded and looked smug.

  He rolled his eyes. "And you think I'm the control freak?"

  "You are - but I'm learning."

  "Well, we'll take it one step at a time. Right now I just need to get out of here."

  "Funny you should say that. Doctor Einheld spoke to me a couple of hours ago and said you could be released today. Sound good?"

  "Halle-fucking-lujah. Now that is good news. Can I have sex today too?"

  "Don't push it, Mr Matthews. There is to be no exertion for the next week or two. We don't want to open up any of those nasty lacerations on your back, now do we?"

  "I'm willing to take that risk if you are." Mark grinned up at me adoringly.

  "You get nada from me until you've been given the all-clear." I gave him my most fearsome look, put my hands on my hips, and shook my head to emphasise my point. Getting up off the bed, and ignoring his loud groan of protest, I decided we both needed a cup of really bad coffee in order to change the direction of this conversation.

  "That will mean at least three million spanks will be added to your tally, Mrs Matthews," Mark bit out as I left the room.

  "Good job I'm in this relationship for the long haul then," I shot back.

  Two weeks later and my husband was nearly certifiably insane. I'd kept my word on the no sex thing, following the advice of Mark's physician, but my poor darling was a self-confessed addict, and the withdrawal symptoms were nearly his undoing.

  "I'm not an invalid, you know." Mark was constantly trying to wheedle me into ignoring the doc's instructions, but it was not happening.

  "Actually you are. That's what happens when you get whipped to within an inch of your life."

  "The doctor didn't actually say 'no sex' though, did he?" This wasn't the first time he'd tried that tactic, either.

  "Actually, he did, which is why we aren't going to have any until he says it's okay."

  "What if I ring him today? Give me his number." Mark reached for the phone beside him, and there was a devilish gleam in his eyes. I extinguished it right away.

  "I wouldn't trust you to tell me the truth. You'll just have to wait until I get his say so in person."

  "But that could be days from now, and I might die in the meantime." He flung the phone across the room in exasperation.

  "I haven't heard of anyone dying from lack of sex before. But if you want to be the first I'll see if I can get you a slot in the Guinness Book of World Records." My eyes twinkled.

  "I'm serious here."

  "So am I. On another note of seriousness, I did everything you said for seven days, and you owe me a night of domination."

  "You did not! I've been telling you to have sex with me every day for the last two weeks, and you haven't! How is that obeying me?" Mark looked flabbergasted, which was really quite endearing.

  "Instructions that are against doctor's orders cannot be taken into consideration. However, if you allow me my night, and I have earned it," I said, pointing at my chest, "I might ring Doctor Einheld today and see if he can clear you for various naughtiness."

  "No way. That's blackmail." Mark narrowed his eyes and gave me a dark look. I didn't even blink.

  "Fine by me. You aren't scheduled to have another appointment for two weeks, so you can just suck it up and wait till then." I held the sheet of paper up with Einheld's number and began to rip it in two.

  "Give me that number now," he said, glowering at me. I immediately ripped the sheet to shreds.

  "I can get his number any time I like by—"

  "Calling the hospital information line. Absolutely. That should keep you busy for a good hour or so. You have fun with that. I know from experience that they enjoy hanging up on people. Catch you later." I began to remove the robe I was wearing, revealing a red silk chemise, and then I sashayed slowly from the room.

  "You can't do this!" My hu
sband's face was a picture, and I was enjoying myself immensely.

  "You're right. Maybe I shouldn't leave. Maybe I should just walk up and down the room several times in my sexy red lingerie. I wouldn't want to leave you unattended."

  I got to do two deliciously slow laps of the room before Mark leapt out of bed and pounced on me, slamming me into the floor.

  "Finally—" That was the only word I managed to get in for some time. When he eventually let go of my lips, and there was enough air in my lungs for a sentence, I sighed blissfully. "It's about time."

  "What's about time?" He frowned at me.

  "I asked the doctor yesterday when you could start walking around, and he said you'd let me know when you were ready."

  Mark rolled his eyes heavenward and gave me a filthy look. "If you'd have told me that I'd have been up and walking about a week ago."

  "That's why I didn't let you know earlier. And you're still not getting any until I get my night. I died for you, Mark Matthews. It's the least you owe me." I didn't exactly die for him, but it sounded good, and anything that was going to sway the odds in my favour had my vote.

  "Can we have sex this instant if I agree to this silliness?"

  "Right now," I confirmed. I'd been desperate to get my clothes off and slide underneath my husband for days. No encouragement was needed.

  "Fine. You get your night, but I have one condition."

  "What's that?" I raised an eyebrow of my own. This should be good.

  "My blood stays in my body. You can do what you like, other than that, but I can't cope with any more blood." He shoved a thumb behind him to indicate his back.

  I shuddered. "I wouldn't be capable of that."

  "Good to know. You get your night. Oh, and one more question, which I hardly dare ask, but I need to be a responsible adult every now and again."

  I looked up at him, puzzled. "What now? Don't even think of trying to wriggle..."

  "Relax. I agreed. What I need to know now is if you're back on the pill? If you aren't we'll need to get some condoms, and I'm going to get the bastard things couriered over here in under an hour. There'll be someone I can find who'll do it."

  Laughing, as I imagined that rather terse phone conversation, I nearly choked. We would be getting a reputation around these parts if we weren't careful. "This is something I have to see," I said, through bursts of giggles.

  "Give me the phone and my iPad. I need to Google motorbike courier services. Go, go, go; this is an emergency." Mark had already flung me off him and was scrambling to get up. I laughed so hard I couldn't speak for a good minute and a half. Seriously, I had tears pouring down my face.

  "Steady on, darling. Are you okay?"

  Mark slowed down enough to sit back down on the floor and reach for my hand. I gripped it tightly. Tugging him towards me, I whispered, "Actually, that's something I wanted to talk to you about."

  "You want to talk to me about motorcycle couriers?" There was the familiar, deadly twinkle in Mark's eyes that told me he probably knew what I was about to say before I did.

  "No, I want to talk to you about pills." I finally managed to stop laughing.

  "What about them?" He was once again nuzzling my neck, and I was finding it difficult to think, let alone speak, but this was important, so I did my best.

  "I don't want them."

  Mark stopped nuzzling my neck abruptly. He thought carefully about what he was going to say, bringing his face up to mine and looking very serious. "So we use condoms. It's not a problem." He scoured my face from left to right, wondering if this conversation was going to go the way he wanted it to. I saw concern etched on his features, and I heard him clear his throat as if to speak before he thought the better of it.

  "I don't want them either."

  "Stop beating around the bush, Jen. If you're saying what I think you're saying, please spit it out. If you're not, don't get me excited. You're not to do this for me, either. We have plenty of time. We can take it slowly and see how you feel in a few months. I'd never forgive myself if I thought I'd coerced you into this before you were ready."

  "I. Want. Babies. Your babies. At least two, but no more than four. I don't want to wait. No one knows how much time they have on this earth, and more than anything else in the world right now, I want to be pregnant with your child - our child. I hope I already am, but if I'm not, I'm confident you'll give it your best shot in the next few months, Mr Matthews."

  By now Mark's eyes were glistening with tears. He was staring at me, not sure if he could believe what I was saying. Who knew the word babies could totally destroy one of London's most famous dominants? I would have to mention it more often.

  "Babies, babies, babies," I whispered, nibbling on his ear while rubbing my silk chemise firmly into his body.

  "Stop that. I can't think. Are you sure?"

  "Yes," I said happily.

  He looked at me through narrowed lids. "Are you sure you're sure?"

  "Yes," I yelled, laughing. "I had a lot of time to think in that cold little room that Kyle put me in. I can't think of anything more precious than having a baby with you. I've gone from being scared of the idea, to needing to have one yesterday. It's utterly bizarre but completely enchanting."

  "Life and death experiences can do that, I hear." He pulled my arms up over my head and lifted my silk shift over my head. "Are you sure, though? You can't change your mind once we start this." He frowned. "Well, you can, but it's not to be recommended. I want you to be certain."

  "I'm certain. Stop stalling and fuck my brains out, darling. I've been waiting two weeks for this." I pulled my hair out of the loose ponytail I was wearing and shook my blonde mane around my head.

  "Fuck. I can't think when you look like that."

  "Then don't," I said, and thankfully, he didn't.

  Michael Redcliff was caught three weeks after my father had begun to interrogate Kyle. Whatever tactics my father used, they must have been pretty good. I didn't expect Kyle had talked easily.

  Rupert was sitting in our lounge, nursing a cup of coffee that immediately made him Mark's friend for life, and my mother was sitting alongside him. Miracle of miracles, Mark had not run screaming from the building.

  We were currently snuggled together on the sofa, and he had his arm protectively around my stomach as if afraid someone might shoot me at any second. Rupert was amused by this, Laurel not so much, but at least she was now on speaking terms with him. Whatever Rupert had told her about the incident something must have attracted her attention, for she looked at Mark with newfound respect in her eyes.

  "What do you want us to do with them?" We'd been talking about Michael's arrest for some time, and how they'd caught him hiding out in the Caribbean with Katrina. Mark had been listening intently. I knew he wouldn't have been able to rest until Redcliff was caught, so at least now we could lay another demon to rest.

  "The worst thing you can possibly think of," Mark said, without a moment's hesitation. "Although legally, I don't think there's anything you can do to him that will even touch on what's he done to both of us, unfortunately."

  Rupert coughed and glanced sideways at Laurel. They shared a long look together. "Well, that's why Laurel and I didn't put either of their arrests on the books. If I hand everything over to my stunningly beautiful and incredibly cunning ex-wife, I'm pretty sure she can do something even you'd approved of. The mafia have some quite ingenious torments, so I've heard." Rupert tried to look innocent and failed miserably. By the look on Mark's face, my father had just made a friend for life.

  "Can you string him upside down by his testicles and wait for them to drop off?" Mark and Rupert looked expectantly at my mother, while I wanted to bury my way under the table. If they were going to talk about blood, death and gore, I wanted to go in the other room. I'd had enough of that just lately.

  My mother looked bored at my husband's suggestion and waved it away with her hand. "Oh please. We can do much better than that. Why don't you let me do my thing,
and I'll keep you updated?"

  Rupert gave Mark a huge grin and gave him the thumbs up. Christ almighty. What was the world coming to? I wanted to bury my head in my hands.

  Mark did not feel the same way. "That works for me. If I think of anything truly disgusting in the meantime, I can always get back to you. Besides, Jennifer and I are going to be very busy in the next couple of weeks." Mark began stroking my stomach, and I elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Laurel pursed her lips and looked suspiciously at my husband, but she wisely kept quiet. Rupert did no such thing.

  "Oh yes, son? What are you guys planning on doing?"

  "We're going to be making babies," said Mark smugly, looking directly at my mother.

  I don't remember much after that. Laurel dived for her purse and my father jumped in front of us both. Mark took this as an opportunity to yank me away from the lounge as quickly as he could, and we ran upstairs as fast as our legs could carry us. We could still hear them talking for several minutes afterward - until we locked ourselves in the bedroom, anyway.

  "They're joking, Laurel. You need to be able to take a joke." Rupert was trying to persuade my mother not to kill my husband, which was appreciated.

  "That's not funny, Rupert. He needs to be respectful." Laurel was not amused and sounded very terse.

  "Calm down and put the gun away. Mark isn't an employee, he's your daughter's husband. It would be a good idea to stay on the right side of them both. You do want grandchildren, right, Laurel? If you kill him that's not going to happen for a while, trust me."

  "Couldn't I just string him up for a while instead? Our relationship would improve tenfold if I just had a half hour alone with him."

  "You don't want to do that, Laurel. Mark's a rich man. He could make it very difficult for you to see your daughter if he wanted to."

  "He wouldn't dare."

  "Laurel, if you're going to shoot me, just shoot me. Otherwise, I think we'd better get out of here and put all that rage to good use somewhere."