by Nia Farrell
That was when she heard the buzz from a vibrator.
A vibrator, and he hadn’t given her permission to come.
Shit.
She held her breath, waiting to feel what he’d chosen to use.
What he dragged along her seam wasn’t small. It felt like a dildo. Not just a dildo. A rabbit. Pushing in her pussy and taking hold of her clit.
Sweet baby Jesus.
Ashley clenched her teeth and fought to deny her body the release that it craved, but every second was one closer to pushing her over the edge. “I can’t…,” she grated the words between clenched teeth. “I’m sorry, I can’t—”
He threw the rabbit aside, seated the head of his cock in her entrance, and thrust inside. “Come for me,” he ordered, but it was too late. She was already there.
The dam burst. She cried out with the force of it. Wetness flooded her sex, drenching him and running down her crack to soak the sheet beneath them. He groaned at the sensations, her orgasm bathing him, her tight walls milking him, her body convulsing with wave after wave of pleasure. When he started pounding into her, she regretted the blindfold. She would have loved to watch his face when he finally reached his peak of pleasure.
He shoved in deep and shot his load, flooding her womb with his seed in hot, pulsing streams. When he had emptied himself, he shook like a racehorse and dismounted.
“How is your back?” he asked. Slipping into doctor mode, he pulled off her blindfold and untied her wrists, then her ankles, checking for problems with her hands and feet.
“It’s been better,” she said honestly. “But I’m not complaining. That was amazing. You’re amazing. God, I wish—”
She stopped herself from saying more. She couldn’t bear to say the words that he’d only have to reject. They both knew this was only for the weekend. The world outside would never let them have anything more.
Ashley blinked back the tears that threatened. She knew if she didn’t, there would be no stopping them, and no man wanted a sobbing, clinging girl in his bed, let alone in his life.
“I wish I’d taken more ibuprofen before we started Round Two,” she said lamely. Although not what she’d been thinking, it was certainly true enough. The ache in her back was quickly becoming unbearable.
It seemed that Master Sorin had stocked his playroom for her. He left her briefly, returning with a bottle of analgesics, spring water, two bath sheets, and an ice pack.
“Pills first,” he ordered.
She obeyed, keeping the bottle of water to finish.
“Scoot forward, enough that I can sit behind you.”
She did that, too, wondering what he had in mind when he settled himself against the headboard.
Padding himself with one towel, he had her scoot back until her hips were snugly against his thighs. He draped the towel over her shoulders, put the ice pack on her lumbar area, and had her settle back against him, trapping the ice pack between them.
Ashley knew there had to be a method to his madness. The one towel protected him from the cold. The other kept her from cooling down too quickly after their round of torrid sex. The second towel was aided by two, strong arms that he wrapped possessively around her.
She sighed and leaned against him, reveling in the feel of his embrace. She’d been in love twice, but she’d never met a man as perfectly in sync with her as Sebastian Moldovan. If nothing else, he’d given her a new measuring stick by which to judge all other men.
She fell asleep in his arms and awakened in tears, experiencing such pain, it was all she could do to beg him for help.
“Sebastian! Wake up! Oh, God! It hurts!”
He was alert in an instant, probably a holdover from his days when he was on call at the hospital. “Your back?”
“Yes. Please. Can you do something? It hasn’t been this bad in months. It hurts so much, I can’t breathe.”
One phone call and thirty minutes later, the resort physician knocked on the door. After a brief medical history and examination, Dr. Powell gave Ashley the choice of pills or a shot. “An injection will work faster,” she advised. “You’ll have to wait for a pill to take effect.”
Ashley hated needles almost as much as the thought of taking prescription drugs. Given her choices, she opted for quicker relief.
Her condition troubled Sebastian. She could tell, the way he busied himself and looked everywhere but her eyes. Surely, he didn’t blame himself?
“I’ll be okay,” she promised, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “It’s happened before, just not for a while. With luck, I’ll be able to see the interrogation scenes and fly out after that. I could probably use help repacking, though. Maybe someone in housekeeping—”
“I will do it, dragă mea.” His tone brooked no argument. “It is the least that I can do. As for the scenes and flying home, we must wait and see what you are feeling up to. I tell you now, Dr. Powell won’t release you to fly like this.”
Panic hit her with the force of a California earthquake. “I’ve got to fly out,” she told him, crying harder, tears of worry chasing her tears of pain. She started shaking, feeling overwhelmed and desperate. She couldn’t afford another ticket if the airline refused to change hers. “I have to, Sebastian. I can’t stay. I have an audition on Tuesday that I cannot miss.”
“It’s just an audition,” he growled at her. “This is your health that we’re talking about here. You only have one body. There will be other roles. If you try to go in like this, chances are, they’ll choose someone else. You know this to be true.”
“Yes,” she admitted, pushing the word past a throat choked with emotion.
“You are my responsibility,” he said firmly. “You will stay as long as it takes for you to be safe to fly home. I will make certain that you get there. Everything will be taken care of. I’ll arrange it with Sir Piers. Meanwhile, you will focus on yourself and do what is needed to get better. Doctor’s orders.”
Ashley didn’t watch the interrogation scene. She didn’t fly out Sunday night. It was another two days before Dr. Powell released her to go home.
By then, Sebastian was gone, forced to return to the real world when he’d rather have remained with her. He left her with the promise of finding a surgeon willing to look at her and who would hopefully provide the help that she needed for her back.
He couldn’t stay, but he called her, speaking to her at the end of each day, letting her fall asleep to the sound of his voice, envisioning herself wrapped in his embrace. The resort staff was more than accommodating. Sir Piers and his wife saw that she lacked for nothing. The first time Elly came, she brought Ashley’s cell phone so that she could call her mother, send Sebastian’s pictures, and let her know about her back acting up again.
The last night Ashley stayed was her most painful yet. When she spoke to Sebastian, she finally voiced what they’d known all along. Thankfully, he agreed to part as friends and promised to text her, as soon as he heard from his colleague.
The flight home was excruciating. An upgrade to First Class did little to buffer the severe turbulence that they encountered. Every lift, drop, and bounce played havoc with her spine. By the time they landed, she needed a wheelchair to disembark. Another airport employee pulled her luggage off the carousel and followed them to the ride that was waiting for her.
Her agent took one look at the three of them and clamped his mouth tight, saving the conversation they would have to have until they reached the privacy of Ashley’s home.
The first thing he saw was the script that she’d been reading. “I hate to say it, but you can’t do this one, Ash. Not with your back the way it is. I know they delayed making a choice until you could audition, but if they decide to go with you and production gets delayed because of your health, they will crucify you. You’ll be lucky to get hired as an extra after that.”
God, he reminded her of Sebastian. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was the truth.
“I know, Stan,” she said tiredly. “I know. I�
��ve been hoping against hope that I could do it, but I can’t. Or shouldn’t, anyway. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
The poor guy looked like he needed consoling as much as she did. She put a hand on his arm. “I talked to a doctor this weekend. He couldn’t take my case but he thought that he knew someone who might. If it’s a go, he’ll text me a number to call. I’ll check my messages first thing tomorrow. Right now, I need to soak my muscles and try to rest. I’ve had too little of it these past few days.
Stan had become a bit of a father figure since her dad passed. He patted her hand and took his leave. “Go. Rest. Call me once you’ve talked with this other doctor and let me know what we’re looking at. Is that understood, young lady?”
He’d guided her career before and after her accident. He’d defended her when rumors of illegal drug use ran rampant. He’d stood by her when she went through rehab for her dependence on prescription medication. From the looks of things, he wasn’t about to bail on her now, thank God.
“Will do, Stan.” She managed half a smile. “Will do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sebastian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What do you mean, the surgery is delayed? Because of the holidays?” He’d just spent Christmas alone. He planned to spend New Year’s Eve with his fellow Doms and their subs at Replay.
“No, not because of the holidays.” His friend Greg—Dr. Kelly—blew out softly. “I’m sorry. You know I can’t tell you any more than that, so don’t even ask.”
“But I referred her,” Sebastian insisted.
“No-o.” He drew the single word out into two syllables. “Officially, Dr. Powell referred her. She’s the one who has my report, and she’s not allowed to tell you anything about it either, in case you’re thinking of calling her, too. Fuck, Bast. You know HIPA laws as well as we do. You teach it, for Christ’s sake.”
Sebastian blew out harshly. “Sorry, Greg. It’s just…she didn’t audition for a role that she really wanted, and now this. I don’t understand what’s going on with her.” The truth was, he feared that her weekend at Replay had done more harm than good. She’d been highly visible before her trip. Now, she was rarely seen. He’d been careful to keep their texts professional, but damn it, he needed to know what the hell was happening with his California girl. He could fly out, track her down, and demand some answers, or he could just cave in and call her after he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t.
“You care for her.” Greg’s words were more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, I do. I shouldn’t. You know who she is. If I see her, I put everything at risk. My job. My license. My position at the university….”
“Not everything,” Greg reminded him. “But I’m telling you, Bast, I’ve never seen you like this. You’re the only one who can decide whether she’s worth having. If she is, by God, then commit to it. Don’t look back five years from now and see a past riddled with regrets. If you’re meant to be together, you’ll find a way.”
Sebastian was so fucking tempted to call Ashley as soon as he got off the phone. He’d only contacted Greg because he hadn’t heard anything from her, and he knew that Greg had worked her in early. His waiting list was usually six months long. He’d agreed to see Ashley in under two.
He went to bed, a man torn by thoughts of a future devoid of any form of medicine and his shell of a life without her.
He was between semesters. Christmas travelers had returned home today. It would cost extra to book this late, but if he flew out tomorrow, he might be able to talk Ashley into coming back with him for New Year’s Eve.
He thought about texting her, but this was too important.
He picked up his phone and made the call.
Ashley nearly choked on her bite of raw onion when she saw Sebastian’s number flash across her screen. Realizing that she would only delay the inevitable, she chewed fast and swallowed enough to answer.
“Sorry,” she mumbled past a cheek full of sweet, tangy goodness. “I’m eating supper. The movers were here, and I’m just now getting to the point where I can sit down and relax. Is there something that won’t wait? Wait. You didn’t text me.”
That had been their agreement, to help maintain distance and protect his anonymity.
Across the continent, Sebastian blew out harshly. “No, I didn’t. Jesus. I’m sorry. You eat. I’ll call you later.”
“No. No. It’s okay. I was going to get in touch with you anyway, as soon as I had time to talk. It might as well be now.”
“If you’re sure,” he said. “I can call back.”
“Sebastian, please. I’m sure. Just—just let me talk, then you can have your turn, okay? I saw Dr. Kelly. He thinks that he can help my back.”
“Good,” he said. “When is the surgery?”
And now the tricky part. “Not for a while,” she told him. “It was scheduled for next week, but the pre-op tests came back and now it’s delayed.”
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, a hint of panic in his voice.
“Nothing,” she hastened to assure him. With his training, he was probably imagining a worst-case scenario. “Really. But we discussed it and agreed that it’s better to wait.”
“For how long?” She could hear him huff out his frustration. “Jesus, Ashley! What the fuck’s going on? You didn’t audition for that role you wanted. You’ve sold your house. Now you’ve delayed your surgery. Do I need to fly out there and spank your ass?”
She took a deep breath and counted to ten.
“Ashley?”
“Yes?”
“You’re driving me nuts here. I don’t care what we agreed on. The truth is, I can’t do this anymore. I have to see you. Whatever it takes, we’ll find a way to make things work. Now, talk to me. Tell me what you think.”
“I think,” she said, smiling like a fool, “that you’re crazy. Add me to your equation, and you put everything that you’ve worked for in jeopardy. Nothing’s changed for you, but for me….”
She looked at her plate of raw onions and the bowl of beets that was her latest craving. At least her craziness had an excuse. “I delayed the surgery because it’s too risky right now. When we did the pre-op screenings, my pregnancy test came back positive. I have a sonogram scheduled, but at my last appointment on the twenty-second, Dr. Kelly thought I was about eight weeks along. You do the math.”
There was a long moment of silence, but she wasn’t overly worried. It had taken her a minute to digest the news, too.
“I want you here,” he told her. “With me.”
“But what about your job? Your teaching? I won’t put you at risk.”
“Dragă mea,” he crooned. “If it is a risk, it is one that I am willing to take. I wanted you here, even before I knew of our child. If you cannot leave California, then I’ll resign and come to you, but know this. We will be together. Here, there, or somewhere in between. Whatever we decide will be best for us and our children.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he said firmly. “You mean more to me than any job. If you are worried about my ability to provide for a family, I can at least put your mind at rest. Do you remember when I spoke of my parents, how my father was considered a wealthy man?”
“Yes,” she said, struggling to process the shifts that were taking place at warp speed.
“My older brother runs his business. Like your father, he has increased its size. I may not have stayed to help him, but I am still on the board of directors. I inherited the same number of shares as my brothers. Their portions are larger now, but all three of us are, as you Americans say, a catch. Now, dragă mea, are you going to be reasonable and take a chance on me, or do I need to fly to California and fuck some sense into you?”
“I think you need to come to California and fuck me,” she rasped, acutely aware of an empty ache that only he could fill.
Sebastian flew out on Wednesday. They barely made it inside the door of her four-bedroom house before they remedied the sit
uation. He fucked her against the foyer wall. Fucked her again in the living room, the bathroom, and finally the bedroom.
They christened the kitchen after breakfast.
Ashley was still bent over the island’s cool marble counter with his spent cock softening inside her ass when she looked over her shoulder at him. “God, I’ve missed you, Master Sorin. You have no idea.”
He smirked at her, preening like a rooster. “I believe I do, dragă mea. It has been the same for me. I told myself that I should stay away from you, that your work was here and mine was there, and nothing but trouble could come of it. But I could not forget our time together. When I thought about it…when I had exhausted every conceivable argument, I knew that I could look for the rest of my life and never meet another woman who was such a perfect fit.”
He gave an elegant roll of his hips before slipping free. “Stay there.”
He wet some paper towels in warm water and gave her a cursory cleaning. A long bath followed, with the two of them soaking in the master bedroom’s large claw-footed tub. Made of hammered copper, it was as beautiful as it was functional.
“What do you think of my tub?” she asked him, trailing her fingers in the water.
“It is very nice, dragă mea. At first, I thought it strange to find it in your bedroom instead of an en-suite, but I can see its appeal. I can rest in bed and watch you bathe, while your belly grows ripe with our child. Have you told your mother?”
“No,” she said. “Not yet. You needed to be the first to hear it.”
“I would like for us to tell her together.”
She bent her head and pressed a kiss to the hair-dusted arm banding her front. “I would like that, too. We can call her after our bath.”
“No, dragă. We need to see her. She will want to meet the man who plans to marry her daughter and raise her grandchildren.”
Ashley knew better than to twist her back to look at him. “Sebastian? That sounded a lot like a proposal.”
He kissed the base of her neck, then bit it.