The Stonemason and the Lady (Dear Editor Book 2)

by Emily Sharpe

  "Shall I let you go now?" Donna teased sternly.

  Eric nodded.

  "I think not," she said. "I think you must be quiet and still a little longer."

  Abruptly, she sat up and, in one swift motion, turned around so that her buttocks were near his face. She took his cock into her mouth and sucked hard. Before he could climax, she released him. This time, she bit him, first gently, then harder, then lowered her mouth to his scrotum, licking his balls gently. "Shall I bite you there too?"

  Eric winced at the thought but said nothing, fearing that she would do just that if he disobeyed.

  Donna nibbled along his inner thighs down to his feet, biting each toe tip while one hand masterfully kneaded his penis, released, then kneaded again. She would not allow him to climax, not yet. He would explode inside of her and nowhere else. Sensing that he could not hold it off any longer, she whipped around and lowered herself onto his cock as she released his hands so that he could finally touch her, hold her. With one deep thrust, he was there. He let out a long cry of satisfaction and relaxed.

  "Oh, don't you even think of it," Donna said. "I'm not done with you yet." Wildly, she rocked atop him. Happy to give her more, Eric grasped her bottom and pulled her tighter as she rode the wave of ecstasy again, and yet again. Finally, she laid her head on his chest. "Whew," she sighed. "Well done."

  Eric rolled her off him and onto the mattress, kissing her gently. "You were amazing. That was amazing. A little freaky there for a second, with the hot wax, but amazing." He lay beside her; they listened to the sound of their own breaths and watched the reflection of the candlelight flickering on the metal bars of the bed. After a while, Eric propped his weight onto one elbow and played with the lace on her bra. "Do many subs get to marry their Dommes?" he mused.

  Donna smiled. "I suppose if they tell them to, they do." She giggled. "But you asked me, not the other way around." Tell me to marry you now, Eric. Dominate me. Take me again.

  "Let's go to sleep now, babe," Eric said, rolling off the bed and blowing out the candles. "I'll tidy up in the morning."

  Donna closed her eyes. It had been a spectacular evening. The new job, the money it represented, moving the wedding up, trying out new things. There was no earthly reason for her to want more.

  Reason has nothing to do with it, whispered her mind. And you do want more.

  4

  Plans All Around

  The next several nights were filled with packing. Eric complained that he'd be packing twice—first for the move to Donna's apartment and then for the adventure in Florida. "Maybe I should just stay here until after the flight," he suggested while taping up a box, "and you could pack it all up to take home with you." While he wasn't serious, she knew he'd rather do it that way.

  Donna stood up with her hands on her hips, incredulous. "Are you kidding? You've got to be kidding. This is your stuff! I'm not doing all the work. When would I have time?"

  Eric pulled a marker from behind his ear and labeled the box. "Once I leave town, you'll have a lot more time than you do now. No boyfriend to tie up, no butt to whip…"

  Donna giggled as she worked. "I could find somebody, I'm sure." Glancing at Eric, she saw the look on his face. "Now I'm kidding, you big goof. Besides, by then you won't be my boyfriend, you'll be my husband."

  She watched as Eric carried the box out into the living room with the rest of the stacks. Calling after him, she said, "I was thinking about a part-time job. We could save even faster."

  Eric said something she couldn't hear. "What was that?" she sang as she carried a box for him to stack.

  Eric took the box from her, then he took her in his arms. "I said the magazine keeps you plenty busy, I thought, but maybe something else for nights and weekends isn't such a bad idea. You could take up tennis. Or scrapbooking. A hobby to keep my wife out of trouble."

  "Out of trouble or away from other men? You know there are a lot of men at the office," she teased.

  Eric kissed the top of her head. "Skip and Paul are great—hang out with them when you miss the smell of aftershave."

  Donna giggled. "There are some straight men at the office too. Worth, Frank, Lance…" Just saying the new photographer's name was unreasonably distasteful.

  "Why the face? And who's Lance? I don't remember hearing that name before," Eric said as he went back to work.

  As Donna tucked socks and underwear into another box, cushioning some framed photos she added to the box, she regaled Eric with the whole bad-mood-meeting-Lance day. She hadn't talked with the man since they were on the elevator. As far as she knew, he was helping Paul on assignment and working on some special photo shoot as a side gig. "Apparently, he hasn't told anyone what he's shooting, or where, just that he takes it very seriously. We're all supposed to be quite impressed, too." She rolled her eyes as she worked.

  Eric tried to sound disinterested when he asked for a description. He's jealous! "Oh he's very handsome," she teased. "Like a movie star. Seriously, though, he's okay. Dark hair, dark complexion. You know how a person can remind you of someone else? Universal looks. Nothing that really stands out." Except his innuendos. A few of the other women had complained among themselves, which was actually a relief to Donna. At least he hadn't singled her out for his unwanted attentions.

  Eric reached high for something at the top of his closet. His hair was loose, cascading onto his shoulders. Lance is no match for my Eric, Donna thought. Maybe a little time apart would make him want to be a bit more aggressive, more "take charge", but she also knew that she'd miss him terribly. Just the thought of the upcoming separation brought tears to her eyes.

  When she sniffled, Eric turned around. "My high school baseball trophy!" He held up a small gold figurine atop a base. "I was a pretty good hitter."

  Donna wiped her nose on the edge of her t-shirt and bent over provocatively in front of him. "Maybe now that you're not a hitter, you could be a spanker…" she purred.

  In answer, Eric swatted her behind as he walked past to pack the trophy. "No time now, that's for sure. But the end is in sight."

  He was right. They had so much to do before he left, with not long in which to accomplish it. She'd texted Jessica today to let her know the new wedding date, immediately receiving a barrage of happy emoticons from across the globe. The honeymoon was obviously going well.

  She also texted Carol, who'd become a sort of mother figure recently, checking in to see how she was. Carol had been pretending last month, she was sure, when she said she needed Donna's help moving into the new condo she and Chet found. "Family" wasn't something Donna had experienced in a very long time, and she drank it all in like a thirsty sponge.

  Eric and Donna decided to have a small chapel ceremony, with just a few of their closest friends. Jessica and Worth, and Carol and Chet, of course. The six of them had talked about all going out to dinner after Abu Dhabi, but now, there might not be time. Eric's personality didn't lend itself to having a lot of friends, but he did want to include a few guys who'd worked with him on the city hall job.

  Donna had stopped by the job a few times, surprised at how friendly and open Eric was with the laborers, how authoritative he was. She'd thought about it a lot since—maybe he enjoyed being a sub all the time because at work, everything was his responsibility.

  I'd like to be the sub for the same reason, Donna mused. I've been in charge of everything in my life for so long. It would be nice to follow his lead for a change. Give it time.

  It was the next night when Eric brought up the idea of a hobby or second job to Donna. "Do you have any ideas? I don't know how I feel about you being out alone at night. Or even here alone at night, for that matter. I hope they catch the peeper soon." Four other women had filed reports, according to the evening news. Eric walked over to the bedroom window and pulled down the shade. "You never know."

  "No, leave it up! Without sunlight, I'll never wake up in the morning." They were both exhausted, but the packing was almost done.

  Er
ic let the shade back up then watched from the bed in Donna's room as she sat at a dressing table, brushing her curls. "Hobby? Job?"

  "Well," she said, putting down the brush as she swiveled around to face him. "The club has an opening."

  "The club? What club… oh. That club." Eric's eyes widened. Their first night together had followed a frank discussion of Donna's research for the article on the S & M club in town. Very hush-hush from all outward appearances, but apparently, business was booming.

  "Everything is handled with the utmost discretion," Donna explained, "so the owner's extremely picky, even nervous, about new hires. She called the other day, though, thanking me again for the article—it came out months ago, but people are still making inquiries on her website because of it. Her numbers have really shot up." Donna made a little face. "But going from a few couples getting together to live out their fantasies is quite different than running an actual business. There are fees, rules, check-in and check-out. She runs a tight ship."

  "I'll bet she does," Eric said dryly. "I'll bet she can really crack a whip, too."

  Donna threw her brush at him. "Businesswoman first, dominatrix second. Anyway, she's gotten so busy with the business side, she hasn't had time for, well, doing what she does best, apparently. She's added rooms, renovated, hired someone to manage the website. For something so "secret", it's gotten pretty popular. And while she thanked me for providing objective, positive information for the community, she'd love to have me work there."

  Immediately, Eric's face drained of color. "You mean you'd… to someone else… no! I won't have it!"

  Donna sat beside him on the bed and held his hand sweetly. "Of course not. Never. That's just for you. You know, like that card you gave me—any time, any place, any way, only you. I would handle clerical duties, to take some of the load off her. That's all, babe."

  Eric took a deep breath and said nothing, but he looked calmer.

  Donna laid her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember the night you proposed? At that little Italian restaurant?"

  The memory threw them both into a fit of chuckling. Eric had made reservations at a quaint bed and breakfast—so quaint and old that the walls were paper thin. On top of that, the inn was full of other guests they decided didn't need to wonder about the whip sounds or athletic lovemaking that was their norm. Their weekend had not been nearly as active as they would have preferred, but the proposal made their quite different kind of restraint that weekend all worthwhile.

  Donna continued when she could catch her breath. "I told you then, remember? My toast? 'To the man of my dreams, the yin to my yang, the Dom to my sub and the sub to my Domme. May you always, always be in my life.'"

  "I remember," Eric said softly. "If you want to work at the club, I don't mind. But just while I'm away, I hope."

  Donna got up to turn out the light. Tonight, all she wanted was a snuggle and some sleep; she had a feeling that would be fine with Eric. She grinned in the darkness as she slithered between the sheets and curled up next to him, rolling her eyes. He had started wearing boxers and a t-shirt to bed, for some reason. Maybe he was just too tired to finish undressing. She pressed her firm breasts into his back, in case he still had any energy or desire.

  "'Night," he mumbled.

  Donna turned over and lay awake, wondering what an entire life with Eric would be like. It was what she wanted, but she'd seen little evidence of happy marriages in the past. Her mother had left when she was six, dying of an overdose a few years later. She'd chosen addiction rather than taking care of her daughter and husband. Donna's father had been ill-equipped for raising a daughter; that was certain. She moved those memories to another place in her mind—a bleak place—where she wouldn't have to face them now.

  Jessica and Worth seem to really have it together, she mused. So did Carol and Chet and Chet's kids. Skip and Paul even, seemed quite content and happy. For all her bravado, though, Donna had doubts. Not so much about Eric's love and commitment, but about her ability to communicate what she wanted and needed from him. Quoting Scarlett O'Hara, she mumbled, "I'll think about that tomorrow," and fell asleep.

  Sometime during the night, though, Donna sat bolt upright in bed with a loud scream, waking Eric. "What is it?" he cried, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

  Donna was shaking, damp with perspiration. The dream had been so real, but now she could only remember snatches of the horror. "A man, Eric. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he wanted to do something terrible. I was running, trying to get away…" In spite of the dream, she suddenly snorted. "Good grief!"

  Eric was confused. "What?"

  Donna shook her head in the pre-dawn light of a bright moon outside her window. "I went to sleep thinking of Scarlett O'Hara and then dreamed that whole scene in Gone with the Wind where she's running in the mist. That's all it was. I'm sorry I woke you."

  The two settled back into the bed. Eric was asleep within seconds, but Donna lay awake, trying to remember more of the dream's details. A man peering around a corner, but who? Donna closed her eyes and forced herself to think of kittens. And the beach. And kittens at the beach.

  5

  Bride and Groom Day

  It was a lovely Saturday afternoon. Autumn's paintbrush had outdone itself in the trees around the wedding chapel. A small gathering sat on the navy cushioned pews while a four-piece flute ensemble entertained them. Mr. and Mrs. Worth Vincent held hands as they waited. On the front row, where a bride's family would usually sit, Jessica's mother Carol and her brand new husband Chet had, at Donna's request, the place of honor. The Hendersons had also invited the new couple and guests to enjoy a light buffet at their condo after the ceremony.

  At one o'clock sharp, the flute choir began the familiar strains of Pachelbel's Canon as Eric and Donna walked down the aisle together toward the front.

  Jessica caught Donna's eye as she approached and smiled at her friend, mouthing the words "beautiful." It was true. Donna's blonde curls were golden in the sunlight streaming through the windows of the chapel.

  She had been thrilled when Jessica presented her with a gown she'd purchased at a boutique in Abu Dhabi as a wedding present. Off-white, with a lace bodice and three-quarter length sleeves, the dress's simple lines were flattering to Donna's slim figure, and Jessica had guessed exactly right about the size. The hem reached just to her ankles, revealing boots of softest cream leather. Rather than a veil, she had a wreath of white flowers in her hair and carried a simple bouquet.

  Eric's hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail that accentuated his bushy red beard. Handsome, in a navy suit, he was obviously pleased by the turn-out, nodding at friends. When his eye caught Jessica's, he made a "yikes" face—they'd never even talked about marriage, not seriously, yet here he was, just a few weeks after Jessica and Worth had tied the knot. Jessica gave him a little salute and a wink to signify her approval.

  The quartet's music faded as Eric and Donna took their places in front of the officiant the chapel had assigned for the occasion, a tall woman with short gray hair decked out in a navy robe and white satin stole. "Dearly beloved," she began.

  Jessica squeezed Worth's hand beside her. She was so pleased that Donna and Eric had found one another. The two couples had not spent much time together, but she hoped that would change. There was no awkwardness between Jessica and Donna, certainly. And there was no need for any between Worth and Eric, despite the fact that both had seen her naked. Jessica's cheeks flushed at the thought. It had taken a long time for her and Eric to become intimate, and compared to her experience with Worth, "intimate" really didn't adequately describe the relationship. There had always been a key factor missing. Eric hadn't been as… desirous… as she had been, for sure.

  But Donna was obviously very happy, and that's all that mattered. Jessica would return to work on Monday, and from the sounds of it, so would Donna—no time for a honeymoon with all the preparations and plans before Eric left for Florida. Donna had told her friend that she had a sur
prise for him, though. When pressed for details, however, Donna had made a zipping motion with her mouth, her eyes sparkling. "One day, I'll dish, but not yet."

  "This is delicious," Donna said. "Thank you so much for doing this, Carol." She took another bite of her shrimp taco, careful to eat over the plate as they stood on the condo's glassed-in porch. Outside, the sun was just dipping below the tall buildings and trees in the distance, bathing the whole scene in an amber glow.

  Carol sipped her champagne. "We were happy to, Donna. You've been a wonderful friend to Jessica this year. And what a year it's been!"

  Donna's eyes were round. "Amen to that." She looked around the room and into the main section of the condo, where friends snacked and chatted in little groups. "I really appreciate this; you have no idea. There wasn't time to move Eric to my place, get him packed for Florida, make arrangements with the chapel and worry about a reception." Other than the private one a little later, she thought.

  Chet walked out to freshen their drinks. "Guess who just called? Keith says that Layla's having some issues, nothing serious. They're still planning to come for Thanksgiving dinner next week."

  Carol nodded pleasantly. "Good, good—oh, Donna! Please join us for Thanksgiving! We don't have a table inside that's big enough for everyone to fit, but we'll pull some together out here if it's not too cold. And if it is, we'll just make do in there. Please say yes. Eric will be gone."

  Donna looked across the porch where Eric and Worth were deep in discussion about something. The thought of spending another Thanksgiving alone was not appealing; there had been many in her life. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a family Thanksgiving at all. The last one must have been with her father, just before she ran away for good.