From Sir, With Love

by Rachell Nichole

  She was getting so much more out of their sessions than he was. She’d always known that. But maybe now she could return the favor. Maybe if she could show him how to control his anger, maintain his balance, even while punishing her and fucking her all at once, it would help him be able to do that in the future. Maybe it was a skill he could take with him and find a real relationship with someone who wanted both sex and kink all rolled into one. When things were done between them. When they were over, and he left. She refused to think about the way her heart clenched at that thought. It was just her fear talking. Just her worry that she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself when he was gone, and not anything more than that. She wasn’t going to acknowledge any other possible explanation for the dread that filled her at the thought of him leaving.

  Leo stared down into her eyes, still half-glazed with post-coital bliss, and nodded. “Okay. I hear you.”

  “Good.” Her fingers turned from gripping his chin to caressing him.

  “We need to get cleaned up and get some sleep.” He needed some time to get his head screwed on straight. Fucking hell. That session had damned near killed him. Every muscle in his body burned. His head felt fuzzy. He’d been sure he was going too far. That he’d pushed her past the point she could handle. He knew her body by now. Knew the tolerance she had for orgasm denial while they played.

  But this had been so much more intense. He’d not only ordered her not to come, but not to make noise. He’d spanked her clit, and even her ass once. He’d held her down and fucked her senseless and ordered her to come with his cock buried deep inside her, feeling every ripple through his cock, and then echoing through his own body.

  “I don’t want to move.” She snuggled deeper into his embrace again, tucking her chin and laying her head in his chest. He kept his arms around her, holding her close. The warmth of her body and the soft sheets around them made him not want to move either.

  He’d had control over someone before, he’d had control over her before. But not like this. This had been more than control. It had been possession. He had branded her in a way he’d never done before. Like she was his.

  And they both knew damned well that could never be. There was too much history around them. Between them. He’d never be Benson. She’d always feel like she was settling. He’d always know he was her second choice. That was no way to live. Eventually the resentment would eat through the trust they were building, eroding their relationship. He refused to doom them to that fate. He wasn’t going to leave her until he was sure she would be all right without him. But he would leave her. He had to.

  “I understand not wanting to move.” But they needed a shower. And he needed to go back to his room. He couldn’t sleep in here. With her. He never really managed to sleep next to a partner. He always waited for them to fall asleep, and then he snuck out of the bed and went to sleep somewhere else. Besides, he couldn’t wade through the roiling emotions inside him with her in his arms. He needed a clear head, and it was becoming obvious that where Evangeline Turner was concerned, Leo couldn’t keep a clear head.

  She sighed. “You’re going to make me move, though, aren’t you?”

  “I am, in fact.” He smiled.

  She grumbled. “You’re evil.”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  She chuckled and stretched. “Fine. Let’s make a deal.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t think so, minx. You’ve already weaseled your way past my better judgment once tonight. I’m not going to let it happen again.”

  “I’ll move if you promise me a flogging tomorrow.”

  He groaned. “No.”

  “Then I’m not moving.”

  He released her and she looked up at him. She had her stubborn brat face on. The one that told him he was either going to have to force her compliance, or he was going to lose their little battle of wills. Sometimes, he had to let her win, even when he didn’t want to. He debated the pros and cons of giving in to her demands now. Would he be calmer tomorrow? Maybe. Maybe not.

  He certainly felt calmer now than he had a couple hours ago. She’d done that for him. She’d pushed him just enough, goaded him in exactly the right way, to get him to push past the barrier he’d built, and he’d loved every minute of it. He couldn’t deny that she’d been right. That he could in fact have both sex and utter control. That losing his own control wouldn’t automatically mean hurting his partner.

  “Okay, minx. You can have your flogging. If we can find a way to do it without it being obvious what is going on.”

  She got a little twinkle in her eye. “Well, it just so happens there’s a club not far from here where we could go, and I could be flogged to my heart’s content. There’s not even sex allowed in the club, so if you were too worried about losing control, you’d be able to separate the two.”

  How could she read him so easily?

  “If we can leave for a little while one night this week, or maybe over the weekend, then, sure. That sounds good. But if it can’t be tomorrow, you’ll just have to wait. Now, can we please get up and into a hot shower? You need to go to sleep. Rest up after all that intensity.” Frankly, so did he. But he wasn’t going to admit that to her. She was already seeing far too deeply into his true self, seeing more of him than he’d ever let anyone else see.

  “Deal.”

  She rolled onto her back and stretched. It took them both a few extra minutes of slow stretches and movement, but they finally got out of bed and headed into the attached bath and into the shower. The whole time they quietly got cleaned up and moved around the bathroom in an intimate silence, he couldn’t help but be plagued by images of her doing this with Benson.

  When she was in pajamas, he picked his clothes off the floor, and pulled his boxers and t-shirt back on. “I’ll tuck you in,” he offered.

  She sighed but climbed into bed. “You’re not staying, are you?”

  He shook his head. “It would be a bad idea.”

  “I mean, that’s what you said about the sex,” she said with a grin. “And look how well that turned out.”

  He pulled the covers up and tucked them around her and ruffled her still-damp hair. “Cut me some slack, would ya? Don’t push either one of us any more tonight, minx, okay?”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, and his balls clenched. No, damn it. He could not have her again. He leaned down and kissed her. “Go to sleep.”

  “Is that an order?” she pouted.

  “Yes.”

  She stared at him, looking a hell of a lot like she was going to argue the point.

  “Turn over, young lady.”

  She pouted more.

  “On your belly. Now,” he ordered, his voice hard.

  She waited another beat, but then turned over, lying flat on her stomach under the blankets, her head turned on the pillow to face him. He swatted her ass. “You’re going to go to bed after I leave, damn it, minx.” He spanked her through the blankets, the sound mostly absorbed by the covers. “Because you need your rest.” Thwack. “And because I said so.” Thwack. “Understood?” Thwack.

  She sighed and snuggled deeper into the covers. “Yes, Mister.”

  “That’s better.” Thwack.

  She relaxed even more and closed her eyes. He rubbed away the sting of his spanks for a moment. “Sleep now, minx.” He leaned down and kissed her temple, brushing her hair back from her face. “I’ll see you in the kitchen in the morning. But not too early. Try to sleep in.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she mumbled.

  He smiled down at her. “Goodnight, Evangeline.”

  “Night, night, Sir.”

  He picked up his clothes and left her to sleep, trying to tell himself that it didn’t matter if in that moment just before sleep she’d thought he was Benson, and that’s why she called him Sir.

  He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could and then turned toward his room.

  “Tell me again that you’re not sleeping with her,” Charlotte accused from a few feet away.


  Fuck.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Evangeline lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. After Leo had tucked her in and spanked her, she’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. But now, she couldn’t get herself settled, even though the sun had yet to rise. She was glad he’d left now that she was lying here awake, trying to convince herself she wasn’t a terrible person.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Benson?” she said aloud to the quiet room.

  “Sending your brother here to be my new Sir. It was insane. And that book!” She was talking to her dead lover. Something was probably wrong with her, right? She shook her head and then banged it back against the pillow. The pillow that had muffled her cries of pleasure while Leo decimated her in all the best possible ways.

  She had loved Benson. She loved him still. She couldn’t just stop loving him because she’d let another man into her bed. But in all her years with him, nothing had quite been this intense, this all-consuming. She shouldn’t have let Leo fuck her. But she’d wanted it. She’d wanted him so badly she hadn’t been able to stand it.

  Now, there was no going back. They couldn’t just be play partners any longer. Their intimacy had been pushed to a deeper level. Because she could never just leave well enough alone. She huffed and pushed herself out of bed.

  He’d ordered her to sleep in. But she couldn’t get her mind settled enough to fall back to sleep even though she’d only been out a few hours. She pulled a sweatshirt on over her pajama top. Not that it was really cold in the house, but because she needed the comfort of the soft familiar fabric. She made her way into the quiet hallway and while she wanted nothing more than to walk down the hall and slip into Leo’s room, she turned toward the stairs and went down to the first floor.

  She didn’t bother to turn lights on as she went. There was enough ambient light filtering in through the windows from the streetlights in most of the front rooms. She wasn’t sure where she was going, really, just that she wanted to not sit alone in her bedroom for the next three hours trying to pretend to sleep. It was far too quiet in there. She wandered into the front room where the bookshelves were and perused them, trying to find something to grab her attention.

  She turned around, convinced someone was behind her, or that there was noise, but no one was there. She knew she wasn’t alone in the house, so noises of someone moving around at night shouldn’t spook her so much. But she couldn’t help the fear that maybe Pete had followed Charlotte here.

  “Stop being ridiculous. No one is there.”

  She peeked out the front window. And no one was there. Then what was that noise? She heard something in the house. Had Leo or Charlotte gotten up?

  She turned on the front light and tried to suss out where the sound was coming from, or even what it was. It was getting louder as she got closer to the media room. Definitely a voice. A singing voice, even though she couldn’t hear any music. She cracked the door open, and found Leo, with his back to the door, grandly walking in the space between the couch and the big screen.

  As soon as the door was cracked, she could really hear him. When Benson had made a media room for her, they’d made it virtually soundproof. If the whole house hadn’t been silent, she probably wouldn’t have even heard anything.

  Leo was singing from Phantom of the Opera, at full volume, and the sound of his melodic voice washed over her. Clear, full, beautiful. He made a turn, a gesture. Like he was on the stage, in the middle of a production, and as his words rang out, she could see it. She could see him on stage in a theater full of people, commanding the attention of every person in the crowd as easily as he commanded hers.

  “Sing, my angel, sing!” he demanded, his voice dark, compelling. As he turned with a flourish, she gasped. The raging intensity on his face stopped her heart for a moment. He startled.

  “Evangeline,” he said, in his normal voice, pulling out his earbuds. His shoulders lowered and he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I would be loud enough to wake you.”

  “You weren’t. I was up. This room is practically soundproof. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have intruded. I’m sorry.” Embarrassment washed over her, like she’d been caught snooping. She felt like she had.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s okay.”

  “That was... wow. I had no idea you could sing like that. Why the hell aren’t you on Broadway?” She was shocked. She knew from Benson that’s why Leo moved to New York after their falling out: to be on Broadway, to work as an actor and singer. She’d assumed that had been a dream that like so many others would never be realized. She’d been wrong.

  “I was,” he said quietly.

  “And now?”

  “And now I’m here.”

  What? He was on Broadway. And now he was here. With her. Because of her. “That’s... no. You have to go back.” She wouldn’t stand for this. She couldn’t. Had Benson known what he was asking for his brother to do when he’d sent Leo here?

  “No.”

  “Yes.” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. If they were going to fight, and boy was she ever gearing up for one, she didn’t want to alarm Charlotte.

  “You cannot give that up for me. It’s not fair. I will not be the reason you give up something that big. That’s like, the equivalent of me giving up... shit, I don’t know. I don’t even have an equivalent. My job, I like it, and I love helping people, but it’s not a passion, not a gift. Not like this so obviously is for you. And I absolutely will not allow you to give it up for me. I’m going to be fine. I will work this out, I will find a way to stand on my own two feet, without a Hastings man around to help me. I forbid you from staying.” She was laying down the law. It didn’t matter that she was terrified to do this alone. It didn’t matter that fear and panic now gripped her at the thought of shoving him out the door. It didn’t matter that her heart was clenching at the thought of no more nights like last night.

  She absolutely would not allow him to do this for her. “It was not okay for Benson to ask this of you, and I will no longer accept your help. Go home, Leo. I don’t want you here. I don’t need you here.” She didn’t mean it. She did want him here, damn it. She did need him here. But she wasn’t going to let him know that. Not now. Not ever. She didn’t know how she’d fix herself, but she was going to do it. No matter what it cost her.

  Leo faced off against his minx. Again. He had half a mind to rush her, pin her up against the wall and have his way with her here, now. It had only been hours since he’d been buried deep inside her, making her come around his cock, making her beg him for more. And now, here she was, trying to order him around. To send him back to New York. Back to his stage. He couldn’t deny the urge was there. He wanted to be back in the limelight. Just the past hour he’d been down here practicing was enough to resettle him. To remind him what he loved about performing, what he’d given up to come here. Now here he was, getting all kinds of pissed off again.

  She didn’t want him. She didn’t need him. Was it true? No, he wasn’t going to let her bravado intimidate him. Even though something inside him ached at the thought that it might be how she really felt. He wasn’t going to acknowledge that. This wasn’t about him. It was about her.

  “Liar.” He was calling her bluff. If she truly didn’t want him here, he wasn’t going to force her to accept his help. But he damned well wasn’t going to let her run him off if she needed him. Yeah, he’d given up a lot to be here, but that had been his choice. He’d known that going in. And he’d been willing to do it.

  She huffed. “I don’t want you here,” she repeated, her voice steady, staring at him from just a few feet away. He could just about believe her. But Benson’s words were in his head, reminding him that she often pushed back the hardest when she was the most vulnerable.

  He was supposed to acquiesce, to let her think she’d won, and be patient, allow her to come to him once she realized that she should ask for what she really wanted. He w
as supposed to wait her out. But that wasn’t his style. He was done following Benson’s rules. She’d already forced him to break some of his own. Forced wasn’t exactly the right word, either. She just seemed to wriggle her way past his best defenses.

  “I don’t believe you.” His voice was steady, even. Not accusatory, just stating fact. He didn’t believe her. But if that was because he didn’t want to, or because he expected her to cave if he pushed, and admit she needed him, he wasn’t sure.

  “Damn it, Leo. No. Do you hear me? I’m saying no. We’re done. I’m over it. No more orders. No more playtime. No more sex.” She crossed her arms and her mouth pressed into a flat, stubborn line.

  “Damn it, minx. I’m not leaving. Even if you say no to all of those things.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. We’re done with whatever arrangement we had. So, you might as well go home.”

  Christ she was infuriating. “I am home.” He stepped toward her.

  She didn’t move back, but said, “I’m buying you the first flight out tomorrow.”

  “You’re not hearing me. Fine, you don’t want my help anymore, whatever. That’s your choice. But I am not leaving. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, this house is half mine, and I sure as shit am not leaving my sister alone to deal with her fuckhead husband. So, whatever is or isn’t happening between us, I’m not leaving.” There. That was a reasoned argument she couldn’t deny.

  He was going to have to convince her that they shouldn’t give up, that it was important to continue with some semblance of their agreement, for her sake. Right. Has absolutely nothing to do with the way your entire world feels like it’s been turned upside down... not at all!