“Were you in a TPE?”
“We tried it. I wanted to see if it was for us. She struggled with certain elements. Although underneath it all, she wants to please me.”
“Good. And what about now?”
“She misses the D/s as much as me, but is nervous of it. We’re taking it slowly, but it’s good. For a moment I thought she was going to call it quits on us all together.”
“Time and patience. Get her into counselling, though.”
“I will. Thanks, Luke.”
“No worries, mate. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at Solace. This explains it.”
“We’ll go back. I’d love for you to meet Izzy.”
“Has Natasha?”
“Not yet.”
“Oh, man, I’d get that rectified sooner rather than later. Natasha won’t stay quiet for long.”
“I’ll handle her. I’ve spoken to her, but they will need to meet soon. Thanks again.”
“Let me know about the counselling session, and how the meeting between Natasha and Izzy goes. I’d love to be there.”
I end the call, settled that I have some reassurance to help Izzy.
The look on her face when she asked if I still wanted to be with her nearly stopped my heart. How could she think that? The worst of it is, I don’t know what I have done to make her believe that I don’t love her. I certainly have some work to do to show her that I’m serious, but forcing the proposal isn’t the way to go. She doesn’t trust the idea of marriage—another thing that fucker has been able to ruin.
The last few months have been heart wrenching. I felt completely lost for the two days that she went to stay at Jess’s. I hated every minute even though I knew it was something she needed to do.
Izzy is mine to protect and I let that shit touch her.
Fuck, I don’t want to be stuck in London. I need to be supporting Izzy. I pace around the tiny hotel room and consider calling her. We talked yesterday. She’s throwing herself into her work and I know she’s using it as a crutch. I fire off a text to her before grabbing a drink from the mini-bar. My next conversation is going to require a drink.
I take a seat at the too-small table and call Natasha.
“Hey, stranger. What did I say about leaving it too long?”
“I know. I’m sorry. There’s been a lot going on, and I’m not the only one who could have called, you know?”
“Fine. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“I thought it was about time that I introduce you to Izzy. I know you want to meet her.”
“Yes, I do. I can come round at the end of the week?”
“No, I was thinking maybe Sunday?”
“Sunday? What, for family lunch?”
“How about brunch?”
“I’ll be there at 11:00?”
“Perfect. There’s a few other things you need to know, though.”
“Sebastian, why do I get the impression that I’m not going to like this?” I take a swallow of the too-small drink in front of me before gathering the information I need to tell Natasha.
“Izzy’s got her decree nisi, so the divorce is nearly done.”
“That’s great.”
“But her ex-husband attacked her. He tied her down and assaulted her.” Just saying the words rips chunks out of my soul. Natasha is suddenly quiet on the other end of the line. She knows how I feel about Izzy and how this will have affected me.
“How bad?” Her voice is soft and I can hear the concern for us both.
“Bad enough. Bad enough that Izzy is struggling with letting me dominate her.”
“That’s understandable, Seb.”
“I know that, and I’m not rushing things.”
“Good. Has she spoken to a counsellor?”
“No, but I’m going to send her to one that Luke has recommended.”
“Well, that’s a start. I’m sorry, Seb. Is the bastard in prison?”
“No.” I stand and pace around the room. Talking all of this through is becoming unbearable while I’m away from her.
“Seb? Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Good. Did you want to talk to me about anything else? I’m not sure what help I can be, but I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thank you. I think it’s time that you two meet. She doesn’t know a lot about you.” I try to think back to what I’ve actually told Izzy about Natasha and draw a blank. “So, I’ll see you Sunday and we can talk some more?”
“Are you sure we can’t meet sooner?” She has a pleading tone in her voice and it makes me worry what she’s thinking.
“No, I’m away at the moment, so Sunday will be fine.”
I disconnect the call and mentally start to prepare for Sunday.
It’s rare that I get to finish work early and make it home before Seb, especially on a Friday. But with him having been away for most of the week, I want to have some time with him. I have stacked the fridge up with all our favourite ingredients for Seb to whip something up for us.
I’ve spent most of the week thinking about what Seb said before he left. He’s right. I need to move past the fear. Seb has all of my trust. From the very beginning, I’ve trusted him with my body and my heart. Now should be no different.
The doorbell rings and draws me from my melancholy thoughts. It’s nearly six and Seb should be getting home shortly. I open the door to an intimidatingly beautiful woman. Taller than my short five foot three inches, she towers over me in her gorgeous black boots. Sprayed-on jeans make her legs look a mile long, and her raven hair tumbles in bouncy curls to her shoulders. Whoever she is, I want to scratch her eyes out for just standing on my doorstep.
“You must be Isabel. Is Seb home?”
“No, he’s not home. Can I help you with something?”
“Well, I came to introduce myself, although I was hoping Seb would be here too. I’m Natasha. May I come in?” She walks through and takes a seat in the kitchen as if it is perfectly normal behaviour.
“Um, sure.” I trail after her and wish I had the confidence to match hers.
She sits down and looks over me. I’m suddenly under her spotlight and I feel decidedly uncomfortable. She’s acting as if she has the upper hand, and she does.
Fortunately, I hear the front door and I leave Natasha in the kitchen while I head off to Seb.
“Hey, Izzy. I wasn’t expecting you home early. It’s a nice surprise. What’s wrong?”
“Natasha is here to see you.” His face flashes with annoyance before he covers it back up.
“Seb, is that you?” Her sing-song voice trills down the hallway and I see Seb’s body tense in recognition.
Seb places his hand at the base of my spine and leads me into the kitchen. Natasha is sitting at the table, displaying no urgency to get up to greet Seb.
“Natasha, this is an unexpected visit.” Seb’s words tell me that he’s as surprised to see her as I am. It’s a relief.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion, Sebastian.” She tilts her head to the side before turning to face me. “Isabel, Seb’s an old friend and he’s told me a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She offers me her hand and I shake it politely.
“Natasha.” We shake hands and it abates my initial frosty feelings towards her.
“Izzy, would you open a bottle of wine while I talk with Natasha. Natasha, shall we?” He gestures for her to leave the kitchen and I’m left wondering what this is all about. I grab three glasses and pour the Semillon that’s in the fridge. I carry them through, eager to hear what they are discussing. There is an air to Natasha that reminds me of Seb, the way he carries himself. She’s beautiful and full of confidence in a powerful way that I don’t often see in a woman.
They are standing in the middle of the room, but they don’t appear to be speaking to one another. More like glaring at each other. I set my glass down on the table before offering Seb and Natasha theirs.
“Thank you, Iz
zy.” Natasha smiles again, and this time there is a softness there that I didn’t see before. I take that as my opportunity to get to know her as she seems to want to know me.
“So, Natasha, how do you know Seb? Do you work with him?” She looks at Seb for a moment, and he nods as if agreeing to something, before she answers me.
“We met at University originally, but it wasn’t until a few years later that we became… friends. We share a common interest. I think you’ve seen Solace. Well, I introduced him to it.”
Her words turn my stomach to stone. Solace. She’s been with Seb?
“Oh dear, Izzy, no. Not like that.” I look at her and I see concern on her face. “We have never been more than friends. Seb likes his women submissive. And I am anything but.” She takes a sip of her wine and smiles at Seb. He hasn’t said anything during her explanation, nor has he set her right.
“So, you’re a…”
“A Domme, Izzy. I like to be in charge, just as Seb does.” That explains the feeling I got around her, then.
Seb pulls me against his side.
“Was there anything else you wanted, Natasha?” Seb is polite, but I can hear the annoyance beneath the surface.
“There was one thing. It’s something Izzy can do. Would you excuse us, Seb? Just for a moment? And then I’ll leave you to your evening.”
“Natasha…” It’s a warning between the two of them, and again I’m reduced to the odd one out in the room.
“It’s fine, Seb. I’d be happy to talk to her.” My smile is genuine, clocking this up to another part of him that I’m getting to know. If she’s known him since University she’ll certainly be able to fill in the gaps I may have.
“I’ll start dinner, then. Natasha, I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Perhaps you’d like to call first next time.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” She gives him a wicked glare, coupled with a perfect smile. If I was that sassy with Seb, I know I’d be in for a punishment. They lock eyes and I wait for one of them to back down. The tension is thick and it sends my pulse racing, nervous of what’s going to happen. Finally, Seb turns to kiss my cheek and disappears into the kitchen. Oh boy!
“What can I help you with, Natasha?”
“Well, I want us to be friends. Understand that I’ve known Seb a great deal longer than you, and despite my best efforts, he’s never found the woman for him. Until now. I’m curious, in a good way. Seb has taken a rather long time to introduce us. Plus, I like messing with him when I can.” Her smile lights up her face and I am more than relieved that she isn’t interested in Seb. She’s stunning.
“Seb told me you were his perfect partner, that you were it for him.” Her confirmation fills me with joy. “He’s also told me what happened, and I’m sorry you had to go through that. Remember, though, that being submissive isn’t something that will disappear. It’s part of you.” I try to stand tall against her scrutiny, but her presence has the same effect on me as Seb’s does when he wants to dominate me. My eyes slink away from hers.
She takes a step towards me, encroaching on my space. I feel her hand on my shoulder, offering reassurance, I think. “Don’t let it ruin what you have with Seb. This is new to him. You need to help him as much as he is supporting you.” I look back at her and see that she is genuinely concerned.
“If you need to talk to someone, you can always call me.” She pulls a card out of her purse and hands it to me before turning on her booted heel and heading for the door.
I sit on the sofa and reach for my wine. I take two big gulps to settle my nerves. She’s been perfectly nice, but it doesn’t dispel how unsettled I feel.
“Izzy, are you alright?” Seb comes to sit beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. I lean back against him, happy to be cuddled.
“I’m fine. She just wants to be friends.”
“What did she say? I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable. She has that ability.”
“She didn’t. Well, maybe a little. She didn’t say anything I didn’t know already.” I turn and curl my legs underneath me. “I wanted to spend some time with you tonight, just us.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He finally smiles and some of the tension begins to loosen.
“Will you help me? I do want to submit to you. Sexually. I know we’re taking things slowly, but I need… more. I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll do something and I’ll get hit with a memory.”
“Of course I’ll help. It’s what I’ve been trying to do. I think you should speak to a counsellor. I have a friend who’s recommended someone to me. I can set up a meeting.”
“I was thinking you could help by taking me to Solace.” His hand stills and he tips my chin up to look at me, confusion clear on his face.
“Solace? Why?”
“Because I think seeing scenes where women are vulnerable but are consenting will help. I need to see that the submissive does hold the power.”
“I can show you that without taking you to Solace. You said you wanted to take things slowly. You don’t need to rush things, Izzy.”
“I’m not, but I’m sick of feeling like I lost a part of us in the attack. I want it back. But I’m not even sure what it is.” I puff out a sigh. This wasn’t how I thought this conversation would go.
“I’ll take you, but it’s on my terms, and after you’ve spoken to the counsellor. That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun tonight. I’ve missed you, too.” His arm snakes around me, pulling me across his thighs so I’m straddling him. “I’m going to strip you before I spank your beautiful back and pretty nipples with a crop.”
His voice has dropped and holds the command that he uses when he’s dominating me. It sends a shiver down my spine and my body presses against his growing erection, eager to feel his touch.
“Yes, Sir,” I purr.
“Your only job tonight is to do what I tell you and to enjoy it.” He reaches up to kiss me. A leisurely kiss that tells me he’s in no mood to rush things tonight.
“Take off your top but leave your bra on.” I follow his command, locking my eyes on his. My blouse and vest top hit the floor so I’m left in my work trousers and my bra. Seb tilts me forward and buries his face against my chest. He nips and bites at my breasts. A rough contrast to his tender touch a moment ago.
His hands run down my arms and he pulls them behind my back, thrusting my boobs further into his face. He moves my wrists into one hand and clamps his fingers around them. I try to think about what he’s doing with my body, pushing the cup of my bra down so he can suck my nipple into his mouth. Instead, my mind lingers on the hold of my wrists. I twist them but he keeps his hold.
His earlier instruction to do as I’m told and enjoy vanishes. I wriggle on his lap and pull my arms out of his grip. “Not my wrists. Please, not yet.” I thrust my weight against Seb and kiss him, determined not to spoil everything.
“No wrists.” Seb lifts me from his thighs, turns me around and dumps me back on the sofa with a start. It’s so out of the blue I can’t help but laugh. “Keep your hands above your head. I won’t touch them, but you have to keep them in position.” I raise my arms while Seb unfastens my trousers and peels them from my legs. He stands, looming over me. His broad shoulders and the dark look on his face re-ignite my craving for him.
His fingers toy with the top of my knickers before slipping beneath the top. He trails his fingers over my skin, his touch only just not tickling, as he removes my knickers.
“Spread your legs for me. I intend to have you moaning my name, but I want to look at you first.” His carnal words spike my arousal. I move my legs wide, wanting nothing more than to get lost in Seb. He continues to stand over me, scrutinising my body, but I can see his appreciation, the outline of his hard cock pressed against his trousers.
Finally, he lowers his body and settles between my legs. The burning desire for him to lick me has me clenching my own fists. I shift my weight down into the sofa, inching my bum towards the edge to give him better ac
cess to my pussy.
A feather-soft touch grazes my labia and I almost buck off of the sofa. Seb’s next touch is firmer, stroking me with just enough pressure to settle my body. While he explores, I lock my arms overhead, determined to keep them in place.
Seb grows bolder with his caress, his thumb seeking out my clit and rubbing the tight bundle of nerves. Before his lips even touch my swollen clit I’m moaning his name, my ardour clearly visible from my soaking pussy.
His tongue dips between my wet folds, tasting my arousal.
“Hmm. You’re very sweet, Isabel. You seem to be enjoying this.”
“Yes, Sir,” I sigh.
“You’re turned on by submitting to me.”
“Yes.” A shudder runs through me as I take a deep breath. Seb searches my face before his face erupts in his perfect sexy smile. It’s infectious.
He wastes no more time with small talk and sets about making me moan.
The Clark Practice is a swanky building in the centre of Bath, all glass fronted with minimal furniture. I am due to meet Dr. Amanda Cross at 11:30 a.m. It seems that Seb has some sway and managed to make me an appointment for Tuesday morning. I sit, gnawing on my lip as I wait for 11.30. My stomach is in knots. Like the incoming tide, anxiety hits my chest, wave after wave, each time the door to the patient area opens. My rational mind tells me that there is nothing to be frightened of or apprehensive about, but my rational brain has never won out in these situations.
“Ms. Fields?” A petite woman in her early forties calls my name. I stand and follow her through the double doors, relieved to finally be getting this over with. She escorts me into a comfortable room. A large desk stands beneath a frosted window and two small sofas sit at right angles to one another in the corner of the room. She gestures for me to take one and she takes a seat on the other.
“My name is Dr. Amanda Cross. This is your first session with me. Have you been to a counsellor before, Isabel?”
“Please call me Izzy, and no. This is all a bit new to me.” I twist my fingers in my lap, attempting to stay as still as I can.
“Okay, Izzy. There’s nothing to be worried about. We’re just going to talk and see where that takes us, alright? Everything you say here is in complete confidence, so please try not to worry.”
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