The Izzy and Seb Collection: The Evermore Series Books 1, 2 and 2.5

by Rachel De Lune

  Natasha considers my words before issuing her advice. “You’re giving her time and space. Maybe some of these issues are Izzy’s to conquer and not for you to slay.”

  Natasha’s words sink in, but they don’t provide me with the same confidence that they usually do. Natasha has always been into the temporary relationship element of D/s. This is out of her sphere of experience just as much as it is mine. I stare into my drink, considering the benefits of one more kick of alcohol through my system. It will certainly help me to sleep in my empty bed tonight.

  “Are you going to drink that or go home?”

  “Home.” I stand, a solemn weight hanging around my neck. As Isabel’s Dominant, I should be able to anticipate her needs, be there to comfort and protect her, build her confidence and trust. Right now, I’m not, and Izzy isn’t helping the situation. I need to look at why she’s struggling and try to help her. I need her open to me. No more barriers.

  The car ride back to my place is filled with silence. Natasha pulls up outside my building and I hesitate when leaving the car.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t wait so long next time. Just because you’re a Dom doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to ask for help or guidance. Will you bring her to Solace?

  “I already have.” I can’t help the wicked grin that spreads across my face at that memory.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see that.”

  I shut the door and let her pull away. I decide on two things before I make it back to the apartment. One: I will get Izzy to talk to me, and I’m going to show her that it can be a very pleasurable experience. And two: I know that Izzy loves me. She needs time to trust in our love, and I’ll give it to her.

  It’s past ten when I finally hear the front door open. I’ve stayed in my room all night, not wanting to risk being in sight when Seb finally comes home. All I’ve had for company are the sad and disappointed thoughts of what led to this.

  My body tenses and I strain to hear whether Seb will come and see me.

  Soft steps grow louder. They stop and I hold my breath, hoping with everything that I have that the door will creak open. Painful moments tick by. Pressure crushes my chest as the door remains closed. His steps sound again, passing my room. He doesn’t want to talk with me. Where has he been? No! I force that thought away and reach for my phone.

  Jess, I’ve messed up. Help! Izzy

  What have you done? I’m sure it’s fixable. Jess

  I hope that she’s as optimistic once I’ve explained.

  Are you still up? Can I call? Izzy

  Sure.

  “Hey, so tell me what’s happened?”

  “We had a real fight.”

  “Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but couples fight.”

  “I know, but I did something stupid.”

  “What, and you think that Seb’s just going to end things? I know what you’re like, woman. You jump to the wrong conclusion every time. Did you not listen to me last time we spoke?”

  “I did and I know that we’ll need some time.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I didn’t tell Seb that Phil was waiting for me by my car at the end of the day. Phil told me that he wanted another chance. I told him it didn’t change anything.”

  “Serves him right. He’s crazy, Izzy. You need to stay clear of him.”

  “It’s not like I asked for him to scare me half to death as I was trying to get to my car.”

  “Alright, calm down.”

  “Seb wasn’t very happy that I didn’t tell him straight away.”

  “You lied?” she says. “But you know Seb is, like, super freaky on the Phil front.”

  “I didn’t lie. I was going to tell him when I got home, but I wanted to share some good news first. Mark is going to put me up for a promotion. I wasn’t keeping him in the dark. Then Seb mentions getting a house together.” I let my sentence trail off.

  “Izzy, why are you struggling so much with this? He wants to keep you safe and keep an eye on you. Most woman would be over the moon if their partner showed that much attention. You do the control thing in the bedroom. I don’t understand. And what house stuff?”

  Jess has summed up my quandary. I’m not even sure why I’m having trouble, but I am.

  “Seb asked me to move in with him.”

  “What do you mean? You’re already living with him.”

  “He means buy a house together, or rather him buy something for us.”

  “Wow! What’s wrong with the apartment?”

  “Nothing. He said that he wanted this for us. He thinks it will help with my worries over being enough for him, but it just makes things worse.”

  “You’re going to have to spell this one out for me, Iz. I’m not sure why you had a fight about this. I can understand the Phil thing, but you’re already living with him.”

  “I’m struggling with everything that is happening. I’ve gone from Phil not caring about what I do, to Seb who wants me to check in every other hour. Seb loves me fiercely, but that’s not enough to make a relationship work. I thought I loved Phil. I thought we would be together forever, and look where that got me. Plus, there are aspects to our relationship that I’m not yet comfortable with. It feels like I’m losing a part of myself when I agree to submit to him when we’re not physically together. Like I’m losing the independence I have. I didn’t realise the extent of control I would need to give up to have a relationship with Seb. And what if he’s not happy unless I can do it all?”

  “And the house thing?”

  “I can’t let him buy us a house. I have nothing to put into it until the divorce is over. Then, maybe, but Seb has everything on fast forward. I just want to slow down and build on our relationship.”

  “Have you told him that?”

  “I thought I had. We talked about taking the submission a step at a time. We were doing that. Now this.”

  “You need to talk to him. Properly. Pretend that you’re talking to me, like you just did.”

  “I know. He hasn’t come in to see me, but I know he’s back.”

  I’m quiet for a while, trying to put all the pieces of my muddled brain in order.

  “You still there?”

  “Yes, yes… I was just thinking.”

  “Talk to him. He loves you. You love him. Don’t make it harder than it is.”

  “Okay, thanks. How are you, anyway?”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice is nonchalant, clearly brushing off my concern.

  “Really? And Greg? How are things with him?”

  “Fine. Nothing much to say.” I know that Jess doesn’t offer up details until she’s ready to talk. She’ll tell me in her own time.

  “Thanks, Jess. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “You better. Good night.”

  After I finish with Jess, the room is deathly quiet. I tiptoe to the door and press my ear against the wood, listening for any signs of life. There are none. I grasp the handle of the door but stop. Should I go to him?

  I open the door and creep into our bedroom. Seb is lying in bed, half propped up, his arm draped across his forehead. I attempt a stealthy approach, wanting comfort from him above anything else now that I see him. With his free arm, he lifts the covers, and I grab on to his invitation, snuggling up against his chest. He drops the covers back over us.

  “Tomorrow, we talk. Now, I need to sleep,” he groans to me.

  “Thank you.” I can talk to him and I’ll be open and honest. I’ll tell him everything I told Jess.

  As soon as my alarm sounds, I wake up and head to the kitchen to make coffee. Seb is still asleep in bed and I can wake him as I would on one of my submissive days. The kitchen is dark and quiet as I enter, and I make short work of the task.

  I tease the bedroom door back open, determined not to wake him, and place the cups down as quietly as possible. Stripping my cami-top and shorts off, I slip under the covers and up to Seb’s warmth. I slide my hand up his back and
over his shoulder, pulling him back against me, then I lean over to place a kiss against his lips.

  He stirs and opens his mouth at my request. As I deepen the kiss, his arms wake and pull me down to him. We’re lost for a moment, the events of last night firmly in the past.

  “What are you doing?” Seb mumbles behind the kiss.

  “I’m kissing you awake.” I look down and offer a small smile, suddenly nervous that my plan to offer my submission isn’t what he wants.

  “You have coffee?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this because you’re giving me control today? Please be clear with me.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you have your anklet on?”

  “No, I don’t need it. I want to show you how serious I am and that I know I messed up yesterday.” I sit back on my heels and lower my head, waiting to see how Seb will respond.

  “Are you sure? You’ve been hesitant and I’ve been taking things gently these days. Today, I’m not in a soft frame of mind.” His veiled threat sends a shiver through my body. His voice resonates deep within me. Nervous butterflies dance around my stomach, adding to the tension coursing through my limbs. Like this, in a sexual way, I have no concerns over submitting.

  “Yes, Sir.” I breathe the words, confirming that I’m handing myself over to him. I know he’ll want me to communicate and I know that I need to.

  “Good,” he growls. He lifts my head and places a soft kiss on my lips. “Put on your robe and nothing else. We’re going to talk over breakfast. I’ll cook.” He pulls on a t-shirt, boxers and jeans and leaves me. I grab my robe from the back of the en-suite door and follow him, bringing the coffee with me.

  I take a seat at the breakfast bar and watch him go about preparing breakfast. My stomach grumbles in appreciation, having forgotten food last night. Seb doesn’t start the conversation, and I’m left anticipating what he’ll ask or say.

  A plate of scrambled eggs and toast slips under my nose before he makes eye contact. I can’t tell if his eyes hold the warmth I long for or the ice from last night still. His body language leaves no doubt that he’s in charge. He’s commanding. He holds the power.

  “Have you thought about what happened yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

  “I want you to tell me what happened yesterday.”

  “Okay, I was at work. Mark caught me at the end of the day to say well done. He said he’d put my name up for promotion. I was really happy. I finished packing up for the day and wanted to get home to tell you when my alarm sounded to text you. I sent the text and then went to my car. Phil approached me at my car and wanted to talk. I didn’t really have an option. He asked if we could try again. He said he’d been stupid and wanted me back. I told him it was too late. I asked him if he’d change his mind about defending the divorce. He agreed. I picked up my keys, got in the car and texted you to say I would be late.” I lay the facts out as simply as possible.

  “Go on.”

  “I got home and came up to find you drinking. I was worried as you seemed to have had a bad day. You wanted to talk so I told you my news and that’s when you suggested that we buy a house together. I was concerned that we’re moving too fast and suggested that we should wait until I was divorced.”

  “Good.” Seb tucks into his food, forking several mouthfuls of egg, and gestures for me to do the same. I pick at the edge, not wanting to have a mouthful of food when I know Seb will want me to talk in a moment.

  “Now, I want you to tell me, in exactly the same way you just told me about yesterday, why you are struggling to keep me informed by text.” He goes back to his food, waiting for me to continue.

  “I… I don’t mind texting you. I used to enjoy it.” I drop my head and pick a vacant spot to focus on while I try to open my feelings to Seb. “When you used to check in on me, I found it comforting and reassuring. Now I need to check in to a schedule, all thought and feeling has been lost for me. I know that keeping you informed shouldn’t be difficult, but I don’t like that it can interfere with my day and that I’ll be in trouble for it. I don’t see why I have to be so strict. You don’t always reply back and that’s fine, but if I don’t check in, you act like I’ve made this huge mistake. I know we talked about it, but nothing has really changed for me. At the moment, the small things show me that I don’t want you to have so much say over me when we’re not together. It’s different when we are, but it worries me that there might be bigger things I don’t want to do and I’ll end up like those other women. What if I’m not cut out for this?”

  I’ve broken through my block. The words are coming more freely. Trying to keep to the facts and being calm and logical is helping.

  “Well done.” He leans over and runs his hand over my thigh. “Why didn’t you tell me about Phil?”

  “I just wanted to get home to you. I knew if I texted you about Phil, you’d worry. Phil seemed different this time. He was defeated. I’ve never seen him like that, and for once, I wasn’t scared of him.” Seb’s finished his breakfast and turns to face me. He’s watching all of my movements. He picks up on every shift or fidget.

  “Okay. Have you finished eating? You’ve hardly touched it.”

  “My appetite seems to have deserted me.”

  “Alright. Come.” He stands and walks into the bedroom, and I trail in his wake. At the edge of the room, I watch as Seb positions a large pillow in front of one of the posts at the foot of the bed. “Take off your robe and kneel upright on the pillow. Face the bed.” I slip my robe off, move to the bed, and sink into the cushion. “Hold onto the post. Don’t let go.” As I wrap my fingers around the wood, tension steels my body, keeping me in position. “Do you remember when I used the crop on you so you’d tell me why you didn’t want to sleep with Phil?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m going to use it again.” My stomach drops and my skin awakens with goose bumps. “I’m not going to blindfold you. I want you to look straight ahead. Don’t turn around. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Seb’s feet are quiet against the carpet but I know that he must be going for the crop. I do as I’m told and try to relax against my racing heart. He’s done this to me before, but that doesn’t settle the anxiety fizzing through me.

  My palms are sweaty, and I struggle to hold my grip of the post. I try to think back to how it felt before, knelt down and anticipating what Seb would do. The same growing ache has surfaced, drawing my focus and raising my temperature. The first flicks tickle my back. Seb slides the popper down my spine and proceeds to flick soft bites across my lower back. My nerves crackle under the gentle caress. He moves his focus up my back and across my arms before hitting the tips of my nipples.

  My breathing falters and I struggle to rein in shuddering breaths. He starts bringing the crop down faster and harder, careful not to hit in the same place. Seb covers my back, breasts and down to my bum with stripes, but he hasn’t asked me anything. I’m panting now. The ache in my stomach is burning hotter than any other part of my skin.

  “Why don’t you want to get a place to call our own?”

  “I do, just not yet. I want it to be a proper place for us. It can’t be if I don’t feel like I’ve given my part, Sir.”

  “What do you mean by given your part?”

  “I want to help out with bills. That still stands. If you want us living together then don’t make me feel guilty or kept. I need to contribute, have my own independence.”

  “Are you still worried about submitting to me on the days that we agree to?”

  “Yes.” The word is out before I can think it. The caress of the crop has focused my mind on the pleasure, making my answers automatic. A heavy ‘thwack’ sounds and then registers on my bum. Oww! “Sir.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not good at it. I struggle and want to question it as soon as you’re not there. I don’t want to
disappoint you.”

  “And…?”

  “I kept failing at the homework before. I don’t want you to be upset or disappointed.”

  “And…?”

  “And what?” He hasn’t stopped the action with the crop. Pain, heat and pleasure morph into a lust-filled haze, lulling me into a rhythm that makes it easy to answer. The crop continues to fall relentlessly.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “That my insecurities will take over and you’ll get sick of having to reassure me all the time.” My arms shake with the effort of keeping them in place. I want to wrap myself up. I’ve already closed my eyes, finding comfort in the dark.

  “I love you, Isabel. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “But it’s not.” He pauses in his strikes and hits my bum harder than ever, as if he’s encouraging me to speak the words.

  “It wasn’t enough for my husband. He said he loved me and still cheated. How can I be sure when I know I can’t do everything you ask?”

  He softens the crop, falling back to light kisses. “You are more than enough for me, Isabel. You are everything that I’ve ever wanted. You submit beautifully to me. You’re beautiful and sexy. You challenge and inspire me. I love you. We’re finding our own way, our story, remember. You let me take you to the club and you were so turned on I could barely see straight. If you’re only comfortable submitting while we’re together at home then that is more than enough.” The crop finally rests, but I’m left with a buzzing from my skin. “Open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” I slowly blink them open, but resist the urge to turn and find him with my eyes. I don’t need to. He pulls my chin to the side so we’re looking at each other.

  “As much as I love using the crop on you to allow you the headspace to talk, I wish you’d open yourself up to me more freely.”

  Tears flood my eyes at his sweet words and I let them fall. No matter my fears, Seb is there trying to lay them to rest. He scoops me up and heads for the bed. “Do you feel better now?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I sniffle.