by Landra Graf
“What do you mean?” He set the utensils down and twisted toward her. She had his full attention now.
“Senior year, you were my prom date, and as soon as Betsy Crain appeared, you abandoned me. I let my cherry get popped that night by Scott the Jock. That summer, when you blew me off for the movies with another chick, I spent time with some random dude I met at the drive-in. Every encounter. Every night in another guy’s arms happened after you deserted me for someone else.” She paused and took a deep drink of liquid courage. Setting the bottle on the table, she summoned the strength as the dominant to meet his eyes. “The worst part is that every moment, kiss, touch, and screw, I couldn’t get through unless I thought it was you.”
“Damn.” He pushed his chair back, looking anywhere, everywhere, but at her.
“Don’t you back away from me again.”
His back snapped straight. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For telling you I didn’t want to be another fuck.” He rose from his chair and kneeled before her. “For never realizing your true feelings or bothering to trust you enough to know all my dirty secrets. Pushing you away and telling you I didn’t need a drunken girl throwing herself at me for the fun of it seems like the rudest fucking thing I could’ve said. I’ll take any punishment.”
Victoria stroked the feathers under his chin. “Your apology is enough. You can get up now.”
She breathed easy as he positioned himself back in his chair and returned to the meal. Her longest held secret had been confessed. Talking about the other unsaid parts of their time apart shouldn’t have been so hard. His sincerity and pained gaze, paired with the apology, awakened hope for something beyond that night. You’re keeping things simple remember? Focus on lighter conversation and the present.
“I kicked the crap out of Betsy when she tried to tell me you sucked in bed.”
Royce looked up from his plate. “What? When?”
“After you ditched your virginity to her during senior year.”
“Shit, that’s funny. She gave me a second chance when I took her to my office Christmas party two years ago, which followed with the unfortunate handcuff incident.”
“You didn’t.” She giggled. “Who found you?”
He winced. “Grandma and Aunt Maude. Not my finest moment.”
“I’d say not. Give me a bit of dessert, please.” She closed her eyes and waited to receive the treat, marveling at how easy and comfortable they were together even after the years apart. To be able to share anything, any thought, without judgment. Instead of a sweet, he gave her a chaste kiss and pulled back before she could initiate a more thorough connection.
“So, eight years to account for. What have you been up to?” he asked, cutting another piece of beef for himself. He seemed more focused on his plate than her. No doubt to stay on topic.
“Working mostly. Got my degree, a liberal arts deal. I didn’t have my mind set back then and it definitely bit me in the ass.” She paused to gauge his response, hoping he caught the double entendre. He stopped eating. Teasing her way through the conversation would make the talking easier. “I’ve got a good job, too. I’m an office manager for a local business. Nothing spectacular, but I’m appreciated and I like my bosses.”
“What about living arrangements? House? Apartment?” he asked.
“Apartment, out west of Bentonville. Keeps me within a decent driving distance to work. No pets. No time for them.”
Royce lifted one eyebrow. “And that’s it?”
“I lead a pretty boring life. What were you expecting, some secret dominatrix career or something?” Victoria sat up and slapped her flogger on the table.
“No need to get upset, but I don’t buy it. You say that’s it, but what about Motorcycle Hot Rod Guy?” Royce had always been blunt, especially with family and friends. That trait hadn’t changed with time.
“He was gone pretty quick. A dime a dozen.” She propped her arms up and stared out the window at the twinkling lights. Please let it go.
“Your mom said you’d married him.” Royce’s voice held a note of pain.
God. He knows I’m lying. Stomach in knots, she closed her eyes for a moment.
“She told Aunt Maude, who of course asked me why I hadn’t received an invite to the wedding. It’s pretty sad when you have to tell your family your best friend wants nothing to do with you. I also know you divorced four years ago.” His words were laced with pain and she didn’t know how to respond.
“Oh, Royce.” She opened her eyes again and put her hand on his. He jerked away and the loss of connection hurt. Her throat tightened.
“No. I’m not going to sit here and get shut out again. I won’t be lied to for the sake of embarrassment or fear. Remember I already did that stupid shit and it didn’t get us anywhere.” He stood and began to pace. “Or is it that I’m not worth your confidence? Not worth sharing secrets with anymore? I’ve given you what you wanted. Proved that I see you as a woman and I would gladly let you fuck me until I die of a heart attack or lose all feeling in my legs. I want you.”
He paused, yanking at his brown hair, his skin flushed red. She’d fucked up. Even after her myriad of bad choices, she’d loved him and longed to be with him. Imagined him when she touched her pussy in the early morning hours when she couldn’t sleep. Treating him like another submissive looking to get laid for mutual pleasure had been a big mistake.
Royce stared at her with tears on his face. “I don’t know what you want from me, Victoria.”
She jumped out of her seat and went to him. His beautiful face blurred as her eyes welled up. “I’m sorry. So damn sorry. I…yes, I was married. Yes, it was Motorcycle Man. And he beat me.” Her shoulders shook, and she dropped her head, not wanting to see his face or answer more questions. Finally, she said, “I got pregnant, exactly one week after you rejected me. I hid it…for a month.” Sobs came, unbidden.
“Vic—”
“No! I’m not finished. Let me get this out.” She sniffled and swallowed to get rid of the lump lodged in her throat. “We did the shotgun Arkansas wedding bit. Everything was okay. He drank a bunch. I didn’t. He’d leave for a few weeks and then come back. I thought it would get better once the baby came. I dropped out of college, didn’t want you or anyone else to know. And then….”
She couldn’t help it; the tears ran in earnest.
“What happened?” Royce wrapped his arms around her shoulders. The movement arrested the sudden urge to collapse on the floor.
She wiped her cheeks. “About six months into the pregnancy, he brought home another woman. We fought and he pushed me down the stairs. And that was the end of my daughter.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Royce dragged her into a hug. Her tears and anguish came out as a loud, sobbing mess as she rested her head on his bare chest.
Minutes passed and he stroked her hair until she stilled.
“You left him, I take it?” he asked, keeping his voice calm and soft.
“No. I stayed like an idiot, addicted to pain pills, too depressed to fight. He would bring in his friends for parties, and I would—”
“Shh, you don’t have to say anymore.” Hell, he didn’t want to hear any more. The whole situation broke his heart and he felt horrible for being too damn selfish and oblivious so long ago. Things would have been different. Maybe. Maybe not. He wanted to find the piece-of-shit ex who’d used her like baggage and string him up in a dark dungeon where Royce could beat him until the man didn’t know his own name. Excessive yes, but avenging the woman he loved would be worth it. She was one of the most important people in his life. Of course he loved her. Love between friends. And nothing more, right?
Victoria leaned back. “I’ve made a real mess of things, haven’t I?”
“I think we both have.”
“So much for a sexy dinner. Sorry for letting a waterfall loose on your chest.”
He grinned. “It’s fine. I think I contributed some of it. Besides, I’m goo
d for it—listening, comforting, the whole thing. I can be what you need me to be.”
He damn well meant it, too. The love word popped in his head again. Yes, he loved her. He’d always loved her, but until that night, the emotion stayed tied to friendship, not sex and intimacy. But desire beat strongly within him and he longed to explore all the possibilities their night presented.
“Here, let me get you cleaned up.” She grabbed a napkin from the table, but her attempt to evade the subject wouldn’t work.
He flung his arm to intercept her, but she moved it out of the way and pinned it behind his back with one hand then gently wiped away the moisture on his chest with the other. A rush of renewed arousal coursed through him.
She sighed. “I love your body. Solid and so deceiving, locked away behind the dress shirt.”
“I’m a fan of yours, too.” He paused then asked, “Do you mind one more question?”
“What?” She stopped, not letting him go. Her eyes were still a little wet, but she stayed focused on him.
“You got away from him. What happened after that?”
“I got help for my addiction. Met an awesome guy who offered me an amazing job and who’s now my boss, and I’m somewhat normal again. Oh, and therapy. Lots of therapy.” She gave a half smile and tossed the napkin back on the table.
A fresh wave of guilt hit him. “Damn, Victoria. This is my fault, isn’t it?”
She scoffed. “Yes, the perfect way to live life is blaming others for your own mistakes. No, Royce. I owned up to my errors a long time ago. I’ve paid my way for allowing rejection to drive bad decisions.”
“Yes, but—”
“Save your buts and don’t mention it again. There is no telling if the same mistakes would’ve happened or not. I’ve learned the here-and-now is what counts. I didn’t think you’d be able to look at me without disgust once you found out.”
She traced the contours of his chest and then grasped his hard cock through the fabric of his pants. “But you feel the exact opposite. You make me wet, Royce.” When he groaned, she added, “If you want to be punished, I’ll be happy to oblige you, but let’s it make it for pleasure, not for any type of retribution.”
“Yes. Whatever you want.” The words tumbled out, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wanted to make her feel good, feel wonderful. To treat her like a queen as she deserved. A bit of retribution seemed required, no matter what she said. He’d strove to drag out the what-happened-between-then-and-now. Knowing how painful reliving those memories must’ve been, yet again made him feel obligated to let her have free rein for the remainder of their night together.
“Whatever I want? I’ll hold you to that.” She smiled and after a gentle squeeze to his package, moved away. “Go to the bed and bend over, shoulders to the mattress.”
He obeyed. Centering on the mattress, he bent, head down, and linked his hands together above it when his shoulders were in position. A bag opened, the zipper rending like tearing paper. Then the snap of leather on flesh. His cock jerked. A low buzzing began in his ears. She intended to strike him. With a whip or crop or something else, he didn’t know and didn’t care. Another fantasy Victoria would fulfill for him. He’d kept his dream of being whipped to himself out of fear his ideas would be considered sick or depraved. Blindfolding, restraint with handcuffs, and being on the bottom were the public knowledge bits of his submissive musings. To tell someone he wanted to be hit, with anything, sent women running. He’d met plenty wanting to be flogged by him, but none desiring to service him the same way. Until now.
“Let those muscles loosen. Your back is clenched tight. Breathe. Relax,” Victoria whispered in his ear. She nipped at the lobe then ran her tongue across the bite. Sting and soothe. “I said breathe.”
Royce released a breath and took another slow one in. She landed the crop on his back in a playful pat. He loved it. His cock twitched as she love-tapped her way up and down his back, across his sides, preparing him for the true excitement.
“Are you ready, Royce?”
“Yes,” he exhaled.
Chapter Four
It took a ton of control to keep from taking the stimulator she’d placed in her pocket and rubbing her clit with it. Instead, she hooked the waistband of his lounge pants and, with a gentle tug, slid them down to his knees.
Damn. His ass, toned, the peach skin in need of her mark, lay exposed.
She twirled the flogger. Here goes nothing. Snap. Slap. Snap. Slap. Both ass cheeks blushed at her. Royce’s moan confirmed his pleasure.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes. Please…yes,” he begged.
A new rush of arousal slicked her legs. How long could she keep going without seeking her own release? A few more strikes of the flogger and his sounds of pleasure filled the room. Victoria followed the moments of pain with a soothing rub of warm heat from her palm. Within minutes, she couldn’t take it anymore. Leaning down, she bit his ass check.
“Oh, God,” he moaned.
“Why, thank you. Get up.” She tapped him on the shoulder and he got off the bed, his pupils dilated. Definitely, one hell of a night.
“What now?”
“Remove those pants and on all fours.”
Royce raised an eyebrow and she expected him to refuse the instruction, but he followed her lead. Reaching into the pocket of the robe, she slipped the clit massager onto her index finger. Instead of using it on herself, she wanted to push him to the edge and then make him wait. She tapped his butt with the crop.
“Spread them, and I want you to grab your cock and masturbate for me.”
He spread his legs farther apart and tugged on his cock. She turned on the clit massager and eased forward. Positioning the vibrating pink piece between his legs, she let it rest in the sensitive spot between his scrotum and his anus. He shuddered. “Have you ever had someone enter you here?”
“No,” he groaned.
She continued massaging, his arousal increasing, hand pumping up and down faster. “What do you want?”
“I want to…oh.”
Victoria smiled. She loved how her presence and her finger could put him in such a state. “What?”
“I want to put my dick in you. Please.”
“I won’t make you beg. You want me. Take me.”
Royce moved so fast she couldn’t believe it, hauling her toward him. His lips crashed over hers, his kiss and custody ravenous. He caressed and maneuvered her to the bed at breakneck speed. Moisture trickled down her leg. She hadn’t been so aroused in years.
He nipped at her lips and pushed her onto the mattress. Spreading the robe, she tugged it off. Not waiting for an invitation, he massaged her legs and spread them open, then traced his tongue along her thigh to ensure not a drop of her arousal would escape him.
He withdrew, his weight disappearing from the bed. Foil rustled. She opened her eyes and watched him slide latex in place. Then he braced his arms on either side of her body, stormy gaze locked on hers.
“May I?”
Such a simple question. She’d already given him permission. The fact that he asked again, his face strained and flush, revealed he barely held onto his control. The last vestiges of keeping sex and tonight casual fell away.
“Yes.” Her turn to beg. “Please.”
He lined his cock up with her entrance and she rubbed her clit against him, coating him in her arousal. Then Royce slammed into her again and again, in and out. Her body ran in stimulation overdrive, the need to orgasm spiraling tightly, ready to burst forth. She’d given him the opportunity to drive her insane.
“I’m—” Her voice cut off with a growl as he slowed his pace and took control.
“I’m sorry.” He moaned, backing out of her until only the head of his cock still remained inside. “If I let you go over, I’ll go, too. May I?”
Where he’d been trained she didn’t know, hadn’t asked. She’d expected him to be new to the whole experience, but he’d shown his training through his actio
ns. He had knowledge of safewords and stayed conscious of asking permission even when in the throes of near-sexual release. She still had plenty to teach, but she’d planned on a sex night with a limited amount of dominance. Enough to give him pleasure and act out the fantasies he’d listed on his sheet. He’d certainly been acting out hers.
“Yes, hell yes.”
He sighed, and began thrusting again. She massaged her nipples while he fingered her clit. The pressure points stimulated in tandem brought her to a crest and she saw stars, her pussy throbbing as the orgasm overtook her.
Her muscles clenched and pulsed around his cock, milking it for everything it held, refusing to let him escape. He’d never experienced an orgasm so intense before. Never thought it possible.
Victoria focused on him, and smirked, a fine sheen of sweat covering her skin. Nothing beat that moment, not one memory could replace it. He leaned down and gave her a kiss. She returned it, the sweet touch making him wonder how long before he’d be ready again. He’d be up for anything she wanted to do.
“Royce?” She snaked her arms around his midsection, dragging him to her.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Royce let the last piece of anger fall away. Her emotions were anything but cold, not with him, and he wanted her. Always. “I love you, too, Tori.”
Her eyes widened and he understood his error too late. She pushed against his chest and he withdrew from her. Fuck. Victoria flew off the bed, the bathroom door slamming before he could even formulate an acceptable response for his stupidity. One golden rule in a scene: never say the safeword unless he wanted things to stop. I never should’ve chosen that one.
After discarding the condom, he shoved his legs into his pants, needing to make things right. Fast. He knocked on the bathroom door. “Victoria. Please. Let me explain. I was caught up in the moment. I didn’t mean to say the word. I didn’t mean it like that.”
A faucet turned off, a toilet flushed. Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for any sound to indicate her mood: items breaking, the sound of sniffles, or any movement.