The first sobs were soft, but as he increased the force of his strikes the sobs grew. Her legs eventually gave way. He stopped and held her up while he released the snap hooks from her cuffs. He carried her, still attached to the spreader bar, to the spanking bench, and lay her face down. She continued to hold a part of herself back.
Now, with the bench beneath her, he changed to a heavier flogger and his strikes began in earnest. Angry red marks marred her flesh until finally she screamed and her quiet sobs became a torrent of grief. He didn’t stop until his arm was too weak to continue.
With shaking limbs, he lay the flogger aside, and then released her restraints, taking the wrist and ankle cuffs completely off. Her crying continued as he carried her to their chair, straddled her over his thighs, and brought her chest to his. He removed the blindfold and used it to wipe her nose.
Then he held her, rubbing his hands over her reddened back and shoulders, whispering words of comfort while holding his own emotions in check. He wanted nothing more than to take away Angel’s pain, even if it intensified his own.
Chapter Twelve
Angel
Her anger, sorrow, and feelings of worthlessness fell away. Sir was seeing her grief for the first time since Master’s death. Focusing entirely on her. And, even though she knew she was selfish, she needed this desperately. She could no longer live with the sadness surrounding them. Sir acted almost as if nothing had happened and he did little more than hold her at night. He didn’t cry, didn’t show anger, and didn’t say he loved her.
Then, she thought of Master and the marriage license. She realized why he did it, and that he had planned for this eventuality. It made her both angry and sad.
How could he?
Angel needed him; she needed both her men. But… somehow… they had to find a way to live without him.
“We’ll get through this.” Sir held her close, his words ruffling her hair.
She pulled slightly away and looked into Sir’s intense green eyes. “He loved me.”
Angel saw her words register on his face and choked back another sob when he pulled her close again. “I love you, too, Angel. You can’t doubt that.”
“But, you haven’t said it since…,” she mumbled against the bare skin of his chest but was unable to complete her sentence.
He just held her for several minutes before responding. “You are my heart. It will not beat without you.”
“Then what was he?” She needed to know, and maybe Sir needed to know, too.
His hesitation was longer this time, and when the words came, they were barely audible. “He was our soul.”
She felt Sir’s chest shake slightly, but he didn’t cry. His fingers threaded through her hair offering comfort.
They rested in the chair for a long time. He eventually carried her to the corner bed and applied lotion to the welts on her skin. He’d done this same ritual many times before and for a few moments everything felt normal.
That night, Sir secured her arms and legs to the bed, tortured her with his wicked touch, and finally made her beg for release. Master’s essence remained in the room, but her biggest fear was that he would someday start fading.
Hours later, a slight noise woke Angel. Sir was no longer in bed, but she saw the tail end of his shadow in the hall. Quietly, not bothering with clothes, she followed him downstairs and watched him enter the playroom. A soft click of the lock sounded after he shut the door. Walking closer, she was startled by a heavy thud from inside the room. More followed and it sounded like Sir was destroying everything he could pick up. Eventually, the sounds tapered off, but then her heart broke because she heard Sir’s sobs through the thick wood. After several minutes, she sank to the floor because her legs would no longer hold her up.
***
Zachary
He is our soul. Admitting those words to Angel broke Zach’s heart. Society set rules on love, especially the inner sanctum of the military and police. Their macho, often sexist attitude conveyed that loving another man made you less of a man or not one at all. Before Zach returned to Monroe and Angel, after leaving them for months, he admitted his relationship to his parents. While explaining their unorthodox bond, he kept the focus of his feelings on Angel. Over and over he denied his yearning for Monroe even to himself. He didn’t just hide his love, but also his need to submit fully to the man who saved his life. And now Zach knew he’d never have the chance.
His tantrum was much like Angel’s earlier one. He needed to destroy something, and tearing apart the dungeon felt satisfying. Finally, his anger turned to grief and a flood of tears took over. Zach remembered the kiss to his forehead and the anger it caused. Monroe could not have guessed at the true reason—Zach wanted to turn his head and feel Monroe’s lips on his, just once.
Everything he denied seemed so simple now.
At last, his tears abated. He knew he needed to fix the problems with Angel, marry her, and place her at the center of his life. It’s not just what Monroe wanted, it was what Zach needed. He walked across the room and washed his face in the sink, then made his way to the door, stepping carefully across the damaged room. He’d clean the mess in the morning. He turned, opened the door, and almost tripped over Angel. She slept, curled up naked on the hard floor. He picked her up and stared into her eyes when they opened.
“I love you,” he said and put every bit of feeling he possessed into the words.
“I know.”
She closed her eyes as he carried her back upstairs.
Sitting her on the bed, he looked deeply into her pure blue eyes. “This is Monroe’s room, the one we shared. I’d like to make it ours so we may always keep a small piece of him with us.”
“He would like that.”
“I think so, too.” He looked at the dresser filled with Monroe’s clothing and then focused once more on Angel. “I’ll move in completely after you marry me.” Her eyes closed and then a tear rolled down her cheek. His finger came out and he licked the salty moisture off the end. “We should have married a year ago.”
Her eyelids opened and her gaze reflected his feelings along with her next words. “I wish my marriage to Monroe was real.”
“It is real, and ours will be, too.”
“Thank you, Zachary.”
She hadn’t called him by his name in a long time, maybe too long. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about, but we should wait until morning.”
“No, please.” Her expression showed an openness Zach hadn’t seen in weeks.
He stared at her for a moment before continuing, “I’m worried about your needs. Monroe fulfilled things in you that I was never comfortable with. Your relationship with him was on a different level than ours.”
Her eyes moved past him and Zach knew she understood what he said. When she glanced back, her tender smile made his breath catch.
“I love you and I need you. I understand you’re not Monroe. I think we should ease into our new relationship.” Her smile grew. “Husband wife, dominant submissive, friends… the rest will follow, but I promise to speak of my needs if they become too much.”
He loved her more than life itself and while he was fighting his demons—a.k.a. Monroe— during the past year, Angel had blossomed. Zach was so caught up in his battle against feeling anything for another man that he missed the changes in her. Zach knew he’d done them all a huge injustice. It was time to fix the problems he’d caused.
Pulling her close he said, “We’ll marry as soon as possible”
She smiled. “May I have a good night’s sleep first?”
Zach laughed. “Awfully feisty for a sub.”
Now, she laughed against his chest. “Please spank me in the morning.”
Chapter Thirteen
Angel
One month after Monroe’s death, Angel quietly married Zachary. They held the wedding at the house with Marguerite and Stephens standing by them. They invited no guests because questions about Master would make things diffic
ult.
The time leading up to the wedding was no less harsh, though Sir let his feelings show. They shared tears and laughter, talked about Master, and spoke of their future. None of it took away the pain, but it was a start.
Stephens arrived with the Justice of the Peace and then the noble man with a heart of gold walked Angel down the stairs and to her husband-to-be. The white wedding gown had a modest, high neckline and covered her arms, but hugged her upper body like a glove then flared out slightly at the waist. At Sir’s urging, she wore no veil. He wanted to see her face and hair.
She gazed at Zachary—his black tuxedo fit to perfection, defining his muscled torso and accenting the length of his long, sturdy legs. Her heart rate decelerated at the sight of him and peace enveloped her with each word spoken by the man performing the ceremony.
It was over quickly. They signed the legal documents, then Stephens left the house once more to take the Justice of the Peace home. Marguerite took picture after picture while they waited for Stephens’ return.
The four of them ate an incredible dinner and then celebrated with glasses of champagne. Marguerite surprised them with a small tiered cake that tasted like heaven.
Their wedding dinner broke up early. Her husband placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Come with me. I have something to show you.” He took her hand and walked her upstairs to his former bedroom that he hadn’t let her enter in the past week.
Inside, fresh white paint covered the walls, but unexpectedly, the room was completely empty. She looked at Zachary.
“I was hoping, when the time comes, we could paint this room pink or blue.”
“A baby?”
“Yes, our child.”
“May I have a pink one and a blue one?”
His smile was beautiful. “You can have ten of each, but I’d prefer they have your beautiful complexion.”
“Rooms, silly.”
She laughed when he gave a small growl and suddenly picked her up and walked her to their bedroom. “I’m carrying you over the threshold, but then, wife, my unkinky wedding comes to an end.”
Still laughing and holding him around the neck, she gazed into his eyes. “I was surprised you didn’t make me wear leather and chains.”
He tossed her on the bed, her ruffled gown flouncing around her. He walked to the dresser and picked up a medium-sized wrapped box, handing it to her.
His playful smile had her wanting to tear the paper and discover what lay inside, but she slowly pulled back the wrapping and revealed her gift. She looked in the box and then gave him a slow, teasing smile. White leather wrist and ankle cuffs with metal rings to match her white gown lay inside.
His gruff voice let her know the fun and games were just starting. “I want just your panties off. The gown stays on.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She slipped the small bit of lace down to her garters and looked at him.
“No, just the panties.”
He took them from her after they passed her feet and then he attached the cuffs. Securing her arms and legs to the corners of the bed, she lay spread-eagle, her gown covering all but her lower legs. Zach stood back and stared at her for a long time.
Staying still beneath his heated gaze was only possible because of the straps holding her down.
Finally, he shifted the fluffs of white satin until her lower half was completely exposed and he could reach her inner thighs with his mouth. She sucked in air when he bit down… moaned when he sucked… and squirmed when he used his tongue. He moved a little further down her leg and started the entire process again and again.
His marks covered the insides of her legs from knee to groin before he finally focused on her clit. His teeth gentled, but the torture worsened. She cried and begged for release, but he kept her on the edge of an orgasm for what seemed like hours. Through half-closed lids, she watched him sit back on his heels and ogle her twisting and grinding body.
“Please,” she begged.
He covered her entire body with his and a mere second before his cock found its welcoming home, he whispered, “I please.”
The pulsations… centered in her clit let loose as she pressed her groin into his, meeting each thrust with a counter thrust of her own. Within sixty-seconds her scream heralded her first orgasm. He didn’t stop, and when he finally buried his teeth into the sensitive flesh between her shoulder and neck, just above the neckline of her gown, she came again. With barely time to catch her breath, he unbuckled her cuffs and flipped her over without removing her dress. She felt his fingers smear the silky juice from her pussy into the tight rosette of her ass before spreading her cheeks and sliding his hard cock inside.
She wasn’t prepared, and it hurt. She inhaled sharply, loosened her muscles, and accepted every inch of his length. She cried out against the sheets and gave herself up to his power, submitting to his needs, and letting him control her body. He groaned with release and gave a last forward plunge. The pain was sweeter than any she’d ever known.
She loved that he claimed her in the long yards of satin.
Eventually, he helped her remove the gown, caressing each inch of flesh revealed. Zach was her husband, her Dominant, and her world. Only their unsteady breaths filled the silence and thoughts of Master floated through her mind. She fought tears though she managed to fall asleep with a soft smile on her lips.
Chapter Fourteen
Zachary
The low buzz of the phone by the bed woke Zach. It was the house’s central alarm that was programmed to his cell phone. It meant the perimeter of their home had been breached. Zach opened the nightstand drawer and removed his Glock .45. Even in the dark room his hands knew the gun; he tested its weight and relished its familiarity.
Quickly he slipped on his slacks, placed his hand over Angel’s mouth, and nudged her. He could see the whites of her eyes in the dark. “Follow me to the safe room. Stay close.”
She knew the drill and didn’t reach for clothing, just followed a foot behind him with her hand on his hip so both his arms were free. They took the back stairs and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Marguerite waiting at the bottom.
The safe room lay hidden behind a solid wood bookcase and had been built by Monroe and Stephens. It wasn’t in the original floor plans and only five people knew of its existence. The outer shell and door were bulletproof, and inside were clothes, supplies, and a charged cell phone that would let them notify the police if needed.
“Only come out if Stephens or I tell you it’s safe. If one of us isn’t back here in thirty minutes, notify the police and stay put until they arrive.”
He kissed Angel briefly on the lips then released her and waited until the door closed and the lock engaged. He pressed the button that freed the bookcase and moved it back into place.
Zach knew something was seriously wrong because he hadn’t heard from Stephens. The older man was their first line of defense and he took his job seriously. Zach also knew if Stephens was alive and unable to contact him, Stephens would stay out of the house so he wouldn’t accidently get shot by Zach. The sound of breaking glass drew Zach to the front rooms. The noise came from the studio. Zach heard another sound from the opposite direction and immediately knew there was more than one intruder. He turned at a noise behind him and ducked just in time to keep a fist from smashing his face. The heavy blow glanced off his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. Zach landed a palm strike to the side of his attacker’s head. The man gave a low grunt, but didn’t go down. Zach couldn’t avoid the kick directly to his bad knee, which immediately crumpled beneath him. He managed to grab the man, taking him to the floor.
A gun exploded. Zach expected to feel the impact, but didn’t. He rolled, keeping his attacker in front of him and lurched up and away. He caught the man in a chokehold and dragged him back. Zach held on, hoping his assailant would black out. He also braced for a bullet that could pass through both their bodies.
A low groan, followed by a thud, had Zach searching the
darkness for the other threat. The man he held gave a last desperate kick and Zach’s grip loosened. Twisting, the man wrapped both his hands around Zach’s throat.
Zach’s hand made contact with his gun and he managed to lift it and fire into the head of his assailant. The body above him became dead weight, falling onto Zach. He didn’t wait to see what happened, and rolled again, coming to his good knee and pointing his gun in the direction of the next threat.
The shadow of a man stood in front of him, but the outline was familiar, the voice even more so.
“Zachary.”
Monroe stood still, but even in shock, Zach looked around for more threats.
Monroe, reading his mind, spoke again, “Stephens has the other one. There were three total, but they’re dead now.”
“What?” It was all Zach could think to say. His adrenaline was too amped up to allow completely coherent thought.
“Lower the gun Zach.” Monroe waited as Zach’s arm slowly sank and then spoke again. “Are the women in the safe room?”
“Yes.” He felt Monroe’s warm palm against his cheek and, for just a moment, relished the feeling. “Am I dreaming?” It was the only explanation.
“No, Zachary,” Monroe said with a sigh as he moved his hand away.
“Then why the fuck did you do this?” Zach’s question was also a plea. This had to be a dream, but he desperately needed it to be real.
For several moments there was no reply, but then a soft, “I’m sorry,” came from Monroe.
“Sorry?” Fury replaced disbelief.
“We can’t discuss this now. Can you walk with that knee?”
Zach put the gun in the waist of his pants and used a table to stand. The low, steady throb would turn into full-blown pain within a few hours. His anger carried him toward Monroe, who was lifting the legs of one of the men and dragging him across the tiled floor. Resisting the urge to plant his fist in Monroe’s face, Zach managed to limp to the front door, draw his gun, and open the door slightly. He was relieved to see Stephens.
Caught By Two Doms (Club El Diablo (Angel's Doms Book 2)) Page 6