by Julie Kenner
“Because of how embarrassed I’ll be.”
Now that the storm had passed, it seemed like a good time to take control again. “What would you be embarrassed about? Because everyone here knows you’re pregnant. And almost all subs cry at some point. It’s expected. No one will think less of you. Now tell me what happened. What really made you cry?”
She sat up and her eyes slid away from his. “It was the thought that I’ll be a mom soon and…it’s not like I’m thin now. Everyone would see me. You would see me.”
What the hell did that mean? It was definitely time to take charge. He sat up beside her. “Laurel, I’ve seen you naked many times. I see you naked every single night, so you’re going to have to explain how my seeing you naked could possibly cause you to cry.”
“You haven’t seen how your friends might react. Maybe they have prettier subs.” She frowned. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m trying to be honest with you. I might be all right now, but everything is going to change. I’ll gain weight, and even afterward I’ll have stretch marks and I’ll breast feed so my boobs will likely sag, and it’s really hard because you keep telling me to live in the moment, but I can’t.”
“Laurel, I’ll still want you.” He wasn’t sure she would want him. He wasn’t sure she wouldn’t figure out exactly how many men there were out there with whole hearts and easy tempers.
“How can you know that?”
“I know.” It was the one thing he was certain of. “If you’re worried about the future, you know what to do.” He was also certain that marriage would be best—even if he found the entire idea unsettling. “I’ve already asked you to marry me. We can get on a flight to Vegas and be married tomorrow.”
She stared at him, her eyes wary. “Is that what you want?”
“I think that would be best for our baby.”
Her eyes turned down and she seemed to shake something off. When she looked back up there was a smile on her face, though a hint of sadness permeated her being. “I think our baby is going to be fine. And you’re right. Living in the moment is for the best. Marriage isn’t a promise of permanency. Let’s make a pact. Whatever happens, we’ll respect each other and be friends.”
He didn’t want to be her friend. And he didn’t want to be her ex. He didn’t want to only see her or hear from her when she needed money or wanted to take him back to court. “We’ll always be friends.”
It was why he hadn’t wanted to get involved with her in the first place. Laurel had become essential to him. She was the bright spot in his days, the reason he wanted to get up in the mornings. He truly would have stayed in the background. He would have watched her date and find a good man and get married. He would have watched over her and counted himself lucky to have her in his life.
Friends stayed. Friends stuck it out.
He was almost certain they could never be friends again.
“Sweet Child o’ Mine” started up again and there was a banging against the wall. Rhythmic and loud.
Laurel laughed suddenly, her whole face lighting up.
At least it proved a point. He gestured to the wall. “Proof positive that there is sex after children. And hey, we’ve only got one in there. We’re better off than Big Tag and Charlotte, but they seem to have found a way around it.”
She stood up and walked over to the closet. He watched her cautiously, unsure of where she was going. She opened the door and he heard her rummage around inside. When she turned, she had a length of rope in her hand. “Mitch, I know I screwed up the demo.”
“You didn’t screw it up. You had an emotional reaction. It’s fine. Alex can handle it.”
“Maybe we could at least show off your skills. Maybe you could make me a dress for the after party.”
His dick jumped at the thought. “Come here.”
She stepped toward him, offering him the rope. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I love the patterns you can make. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful, but we have something we need to take care of first.” He patted his lap. They wouldn’t be able to do this for much longer. When she started to show she wouldn’t be able to lie on her belly, but he wanted her across his lap while it was still safe. He usually disciplined submissives on spanking benches or in some fashion where he had the most control and the least amount of intimacy. He tended to use crops or paddles. Canes if the submissive was amenable.
But he wanted Laurel over his lap, wanted her dependent on him, needed to feel her squirm and writhe under his hand.
“I thought you didn’t care that I ruined the scene.”
“This isn’t about the scene. You disobeyed my direct command that you wait for me outside the locker room. You’re not allowed to run around the dungeon without me.”
“Bridget was up there without Will.”
“That’s Will’s problem. Not mine. You’re my sub and we have our own rules. So let’s get the punishment over and I’ll make your top. I won’t do a complete dress because I want you to be able to move.” He would have to go easy. Though right now there was absolutely no sign that Laurel was carrying a child, he wouldn’t bind her tightly. He would form diamond patterns around her torso, force her breasts out, but he would bind her in deference to her comfort. And if she simply couldn’t stand it, he would run the ropes over her clothes.
She couldn’t know how much he was bending for her. She couldn’t imagine how rigid he’d been before. If she ever knew how much power she had, it would all be over. It was better to let her think this was the normal way his relationships went.
“You haven’t punished me before.”
“You haven’t misbehaved before.”
A sweet grin lit her face. “You have no idea how unlike me that is.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I did the crime. I can do the time. It’s twenty-five, right?”
“Yes. Twenty-five. Take off your clothes. Punishment requires nudity. That’s a new rule, too.” He went to the closet. The room had been prepped for him and had everything he’d requested, including the item he found waiting with a nice bottle of lubricant. “And you’ll take a plug in addition to your dress. That’s not punishment though. That’s preparation.”
“I can handle a plug, Master. You’ve been making me wear one every night.”
“You haven’t been spanked while wearing a plug. I believe you’ll find the experience stimulating.”
When he turned, her eyes had gone wide. “That’s a much bigger plug than normal, Mitch.”
“Master here, Laurel. I don’t require formality anywhere but the club. And yes, it’s large, but I fully intend to take your lovely ass very soon, and this will make things so much easier.” He brought the prepped plug and lubricant back to the bed and sat down, his cock already straining.
This was what he needed to banish the unsettling feelings he had about the future. He needed to play with her, to reassure himself that at least for now she belonged to him.
It was all he could really ask for. She belonged to him now.
“Yes, Master.” She drew the shirt over her head and he let go of his cares.
She was all that mattered now.
Chapter Seven
Laurel pushed the skirt off her hips and let Mitch help her lie over his lap. Vulnerable. She was so vulnerable in this position. The room had gone quiet, the music ending. She heard a low chuckle and then a door opening and closing. The Taggarts, it seemed, were satisfied. They would be going downstairs to host the party that was soon to come.
The party she would be attending wearing nothing but Mitch’s rope over her chest and likely the skirt.
Unless he chose otherwise. She’d promised herself she would give Mitch the rest of the night. He’d already given her so much. She wasn’t foolish. She knew his reputation. All of his D/s relationships had been in California, but he’d played with many subs here and they’d all said the same thing. Mitchell Bradford didn’t bend. He was uncompromising as a Dom. If she’d been asked what Maste
r Mitch would do if his submissive threatened to ruin a scene he’d prepared for, she would have told anyone that he would simply find another sub for the scene and then punish his own sub.
But he hadn’t even hesitated. He’d been tender and kind and so sweet she’d forgiven him for not being able to say he wanted to marry her.
The man had been screwed over so many times before, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. He needed time and she intended to give it to him. She also intended to give him her submission for the rest of the evening, even if it meant taking that damn hung-like-a-horse plug.
After all, Mitchell was that.
The leather of his pants was smooth against her belly. His cock was not. It was a hard ridge that proved the man wanted her despite her crazy emotional swings. She relaxed as he smoothed a hand over her back and down to the cheeks of her ass. He’d certainly touched her there before, but she always loved how he paused as though he was taking in the sight. He cupped her, his fingers tracing the seam before he parted her.
She forced herself to relax. He’d been plugging her for days and she’d learned there was nothing truly painful about the experience. Just some pressure and a feeling of being full. She shivered as he placed the lubed tip to her asshole.
“You are so beautiful.”
She held on to his ankle as he pressed the plug in. All that training was paying off because the tip eased in with very little prompting. She didn’t clench, merely gave over because in this her Master would have his way. Somehow it was easier when she could see how he gave in to her. It was inconsequential things like where to eat. He didn’t love Mediterranean food, but he took her to her favorite place and didn’t complain. He preferred rock, but turned the station to country when he drove her someplace.
Tonight had given her great hope despite his refusal to speak long-term future with her. Mitch had held her and rocked her and been kind even though he didn’t understand. He was educable. That was all she could ask for.
She breathed out as he slid the plug in, forcing her to open. A low groan came from the back of her throat as he stretched her wider than he ever had before. So much pressure, but she’d come to think of it as erotic now. Her big strong Master was playing with her. Her body was his toy in these moments and he was right. She didn’t want to give this up. She shouldn’t have to simply because she gave birth. She would still be a woman. She would still need to play with him.
She understood why Big Tag had spent so much time and effort and money on this club. For him and his wife, Sanctum was a place where they could simply be a couple, where they could love each other the way they needed to.
“See, you took that beautifully and you’re not going to have any trouble taking me.” One big hand was on her back while the other caressed the bare flesh of her ass. “Please count for me.”
He didn’t give her time to brace herself. One second he was asking for a count and the next his hand came down on her. The sound cracked through the air and it took a moment for the pain to register. She gasped as it flared through her.
“I asked for a count, Laurel.”
“I hate you.”
The bastard chuckled. “That is not a count and give it a minute. I know what I’m doing. I need a count before I can continue.”
“Good.” He could shove his count up his ass.
“Laurel, if I don’t get a count, I’ll add another swat for every ten seconds it takes you to give me what I requested. Or you can use your safe word.”
After one smack? It had hurt, but now there was a pleasant heat in her backside. She could try a few more. “One.”
His hand came down again and she bit back a shout.
“Two.”
Again. Pain flashed and then heat. It seemed to sink into her skin. She gave him his count and he continued. She could feel the plug. Every time he slapped her ass, the plug sent a shiver up her spine, odd at first and then electric. Like lightning was flashing through her system. Her body was getting pleasantly warm and she could feel her pussy softening.
“I’m not hearing a safe word from you.” His voice was deep. It wasn’t his Master voice. Nope. That gravely, low sound was Mitch’s sex voice. He was hot and ready, and if that cock under her belly was any indication, more than a bit desperate.
“You won’t, Master. You’re right. I’m getting used to it. That was twelve. I believe you owe me another thirteen.”
“How do you do this to me?” He gave her a hard smack, though she knew he could hit her harder. He was measured and careful, giving her only what was required to heat her skin and give her a flare that turned to a sensual tingle. She counted and he smacked again, this one making the plug vibrate. “All I want to do is fuck you, Laurel. I want to tie you up and fuck your ass. I need it. I don’t need anything.”
Or anyone. She was sure his childhood and two failed marriages had taught him not to need anyone, but she was going to change that. “Please, Master. Please let me serve you.”
Fourteen through twenty-two came like a firestorm. As soon as the number slipped from her mouth, he spanked her again, never letting up. She gritted her teeth, giving him what he wanted because she trusted him. She counted it out.
“Twenty-three.” Smack. “Twenty-four.” Smack. “Twenty-five.”
His hand rested on her and she could hear him breathing. Shaky. He sounded a bit shaky, as though he was trying to get back into control.
Laurel breathed in, allowing the pain to shift deep inside. She could feel how wet she was, but she wanted more from him. If she pushed even a little, he would break and fuck her hard and quick. She would love it and he would chastise himself for losing control.
“Master, please can you tie me? I want to feel your ropes around me.”
He helped her up and had the rope in his hands before she could say another thing. She could see the relief stamped on his face. He needed the control, needed it so badly.
Something about her made him lose it and that was great at times. She loved their passion, but this was part of the man, too. He needed to be patient and slow. He needed to rise above his instincts.
She could give him both.
The room was quiet as he worked, wrapping the rope and tying it off. It wasn’t super tight and she suspected that was for her comfort. She found an odd peace as she submitted to him. As he wound the rope around her, working it in diamond patterns, she relaxed. Her whole body was humming. Her blood thumped through her system and she was aroused by the feel of his hands on her skin, but there was no hurry.
She loved this quiet time when they didn’t have to talk, when they could simply be together. Peace and passion. They could have both if they tried.
“Did you hate the spanking? I haven’t had to discipline you before this evening.” They were the first words he’d spoken in fifteen minutes. His hands expertly tied two pieces of jute together before he began a row that would end at her hips.
She could feel where the knots were. The way he’d tied her, they rubbed against her skin, but not in an unpleasant way. It was like everywhere the knots sat was another place he touched her. “I didn’t dislike it and you know it. I suspect you can tell how aroused it got me.”
He breathed in. “I love the way you smell when you want me. And I love how your whole body blushes when I talk about how good you smell.”
It was something none of her previous lovers would have dared to mention, but then nothing was out of bounds sexually as far as Mitch was concerned. He might have a million hangups in real life, but once the clothes came off, he didn’t shy away from anything. “Like I said, I didn’t mind the spanking. And I like this. I like how the rope feels.”
He moved to her back, getting to one knee to finish off the pattern. “You look beautiful. I want you to come downstairs with me. Exactly like this. You can put your skirt on, but I want your breasts out. You look like every Dom’s wet dream. I want to walk around the party and know they’re all looking at my submissive. They’re all jealous because my s
ub is so fucking gorgeous.”
And just like that all her inhibitions melted away. The giving was a two-way street. While she truly believed she had something to give to her Dom, he definitely gave back. He gave her the confidence that came from knowing she was the center of his world. “Yes, Master.”
She felt him lean over, his lips touching the small of her back and sending shivers up her spine.
“That’s what I like to hear. Yes, Master. Do you know how long I dreamed about hearing those words from your lips, Laurel?”
“No. I thought I was more of a nightmare for you.”
“Never. I dreamed about you the first day we met.” He moved to her front and finished his pattern. “There. You look perfect. Are your breasts all right? Do they hurt at all?”
They ached, but not from the pregnancy. If she gave him any hint she was uncomfortable, he would cut her out in a heartbeat and ruin all his pretty work. He’d wrapped the pattern around her breasts in a way that thrust them up, making them the centerpiece of his artwork. “They’re fine. I feel good though I do have a place where I ache.”
Her pussy ached. She needed to be filled.
“Is that right?” Mitch asked. He stood up and his hands went to the waist of his leathers. He worked the ties quickly and his cock sprung free.
She nodded. It was completely right. She needed him.
He shoved out of his leathers and she couldn’t help but stare, but she was well aware they were in a club, and Mitch could be very formal in a club. “Master, may I touch you?”
He towered over her and took her hand. “Never ask me that again. You can always touch me, always speak to me. It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re mine and that means I’m yours. I will always want you to touch me, Laurel.”
She had to frown because that wasn’t the truth as she’d been told. She placed her hands on his chest, loving how warm and smooth the skin was, how the muscles were hard while his skin was soft. “I heard you believed in high protocol. When I asked around, trying to find out what it would mean to be your submissive, I was told you didn’t allow subs to touch you without permission. I was told your subs had to ask for permission to speak in a club.”