Thumbing the band on her ring finger, she smiled down at it, feeling the flush in her cheeks as the emotion welled up. It was silly how much the brand on her hip and the ring on her finger meant to her, because she hadn’t had a single doubt about their future in a long time. She had known it would be forever since the day he’d held her on his lap inside the helicopter that took them away from Marcus’ warehouse.
If he could love her after that, through all of the nightmares and the painstaking mental healing that took so much longer than the physical, he could love her forever. He would love her forever, just as she knew there would never be anyone but James for her.
The ring and the brand hadn’t changed any of it, hadn’t made any real difference, but they still mattered. A public statement for both sides of their lives that they had chosen each other.
Forever.
And she felt so incredibly lucky.
“Pet?” James’ quiet Dom voice made her jump, and her eyes went wide in the mirror as she saw his outline reflected in the room behind her.
Fuck.
Turning, Thalia stepped out of the bathroom, stopping when her feet met the soft carpet, her stomach flip-flopping with anxiety. He stood silently, hands on his hips, naked from the waist up to reveal the firm, lean muscle of his abs, his chest, his arms. The soft black pants hung low enough to reveal the V between his hips, making her mouth water, but the stern expression on his face shut it down — she had fucked up. Already.
Disobeying the first command your Master, and husband, gives you after you get married? Great fucking start, Thalia.
Trying to steady her breathing and slow down her heart rate, she walked towards him and knelt slowly, speaking the only words she could, “I’m sorry, Master.”
James watched her carefully as she approached, her eyes flickering over him before they dropped to the floor as she moved to kneel at his feet. Graceful, beautiful, and so anxious. No fear though, she was never afraid of him, and he couldn’t have stomached it if she were — but she was definitely due a punishment and it made him smile that she knew it. Accepted it. Expected it.
He loved her submission as much as her fire. Loved it all the more for her fire.
Thalia was a gift he promised himself he’d never take for granted, even as he turned over the possibilities for what the act of disobedience had earned. “Look at me, pet.”
Her gaze lifted to his instantly, and he could read the torment in them, the guilt, and as much as he wanted to smile… he kept his face blank. Calm, controlled, just like his voice.
“What had you so distracted that you ignored my command to be on the bed when I returned?”
She shifted on her knees, sitting back on her heels, eyes drifting away from his for a moment as her hands formed fists, and then she laid them flat on her thighs, that beautiful gaze meeting his once more. “I was thinking about today, and the brand, Master. I didn’t keep track of the time, I’m sorry.”
Cupping her chin, he angled her head back a little further, devouring the sight of her naked form. Looking over the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist, he saw the brand at her hip and felt his cock twitch.
Mine.
The inner growl had him tightening his grip on her chin, and her eyes flickered closed for a moment, body leaning towards him, but he raised her back up with a sharp jerk. “Eyes open, pet.”
She sighed as her back straightened, knees apart, hands open, eyes on his — hiding nothing from him. Thalia had always been incredibly responsive, meant to be a submissive, but James had no doubt that she’d been a masochist even before she knew what the word meant. Marcus had seen it in her, taken her because of it, and he still hated that it was only because of the bastard’s obsession that James had even found her.
But, Marcus was dead, and the brand had obliterated the tattoo he’d placed on her skin.
“Stand up.” His voice held more of an edge than he meant it to, and the way her brows pulled together, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth as she rose to her feet… it made him want to comfort her as he dropped his hand to his side.
I’m not angry with you, baby. Just remembering the worst of myself.
“How is it healing?” Attempting to gentle his tone, he brushed his thumb over her hipbone, just outside the redness of the irritated skin.
Three days wasn’t long enough, but he could see the rough lines of his initials and the small heart in the dark red of the forming scabs. The fact that she’d asked for it, begged him for it, had shocked him at first. He’d refused when she’d first mentioned it, but while she had responded appropriately… it had clearly upset her. She’d moped for days, and he’d started researching. Calling friends to ask if anyone had experience in it, and he had found a resource much closer to home than he’d expected. Nick and Analiese knew a Dom in Germany who did branding. They had even seen one performed by the man that had resulted in a beautiful brand.
“It’s sore, Master, but just fine.” Thalia’s response was soft, obedient, and he knew she was waiting to know the punishment she had earned for not being on the bed, but she would just have to wait a little longer.
“Have you cleaned it yet?”
“No, Master.”
“Then go into the bathroom and wait for me, we’ll get it re-dressed before we discuss your disobedience.” James turned without another look, walking into the living room to dig out one of the bottles of distilled water, and the little first aid kit he’d put together to tend the mark. As he returned to her, he couldn’t help but remember the joy on her face as she’d realized why they were at Sean’s club. SW3 had been the only option for something as important as this, and the only place he trusted to be private and secure in London. The fact that his friend had let him rent the entire club out for a steal, losing a full night of guest fees and irritating several of the members, was just one more reason why he valued the man’s friendship so much.
“Master, I—”
“You can apologize after your punishment, pet. Or during it, but not now. This is about your health and making sure we take care of the brand.” Offering his hand to her, he lifted her from her kneel on the bathroom tile. Tugging a towel free from the wall, he laid it out beside the sink. “Up on the counter, lay down.”
“Yes, Master.” With the effortless grace that she never seemed to notice, she hopped up onto the counter and carefully shifted until her hips were positioned over the towel, one foot in the sink, the other dangling off the counter. She stayed propped up on her elbows, eyes roaming over the brand, and he felt his lips twitch into a smile before he got it under control.
“Be still,” he commanded, ripping open one of the sterile bandages. As he cracked open the water and started to pour it over the mark, blotting gently, he was overwhelmed by the visual of her stretched out on the table inside SW3. Surrounded by their friends, she hadn’t even hesitated to strip and submit to him before all of them — not like it had been the first time — but it had meant more with the wedding on the horizon. David, the Dom well-versed in branding, had even spoken about the significance of the branding decision, and Thalia had never even flinched. His brave, beautiful wife. “It looks beautiful, pet.”
“Thank you, Master. This… having your initials on me, it just— it means so much to me. I wanted it more than I can say.”
At her words he stopped trickling the water and leaned down to kiss her, their tongues clashing as he set the bottle aside and held her in place so he could nip her lip. Take her mouth the way he wanted to as her moans vibrated between them. “Baby…” he growled, trying to restrain the urge to fuck her on the bright white tiles of the bathroom.
“Master?” she asked, breathy and practically moaning with need.
He could smell her arousal, knew already that if he were to brush his fingers between her lips that she’d be soaking wet, but he forced himself to step back from her and regain control.
Take care of the brand.
Then the punishment.
Then the scene can start and you can have her.
James opened his eyes on her again and wondered if she had any idea just how challenging it was to keep himself in check sometimes. How difficult it was when she was panting, and flushed, and parting her thighs like a bloody invitation. Swallowing, he moved his eyes back to the brand, trying to avoid looking at the swollen lips between her legs. “I’m very proud of you for taking the mark so well, and I want to make sure we take care of it so it heals well.”
“Yes, Master.” She stayed still, her belly barely moving with her breath, and he tried to focus on cleaning it the way David had told him. Sterile water, sterile gauze, keep it dry and protected until the scabs were hard, which was just one more reason to keep her in bed and out of the water in Bora Bora during the honeymoon. She could take dips, but then she’d need to rinse it off and enjoy the sunshine, or come back to bed with him.
Definitely not a hardship.
As she lay back on the counter, he had a flash of the way she’d been held down at the club. Each of their friends had been present to witness, to hold her still as David seared the brand into her flesh in a series of strike brands. Every sizzling press of the brand making her body jerk, but he’d held her face so she kept looking at him, his arm braced between her breasts to hold her chest down. Kalen had held her arms, Maggie, Julie, and the other girls holding her legs. Analiese at her feet to watch, while Nick helped David with the torch to heat the brand evenly.
The sheer trust she had in him, to protect her, to keep her safe, to push her limits, but never too far — Thalia amazed him. Every single day of their life she made him realize how lucky he was to have her, and as he looked down at the wedding band on his hand he knew that they had a lifetime of days ahead of them.
Patting the area dry, he ensured it was clean before he placed a fresh gauze pad over it and taped it down. Light enough to let the area breathe, but keep it protected, and with the things he wanted to do to her he needed to know it was safe so he could play as hard as he’d planned.
Shaking off the memories of the branding, he brushed his fingers over the tape and then slid them up her side, cupping her breast, tweaking a nipple, before ultimately running them over her neck and into her hair. As soon as he tightened his fist she gasped, lips parting prettily as she arched off the counter. “Up, pet. Time for your punishment.”
He tugged her hair as she moved into a sitting position and pushed herself off the soaked towel, a soft moan slipping out as he angled her head and walked her forward with him. Thalia fell into a stumbling step beside him, her steps quickened, because he wasn’t going to measure his steps to hers for a punishment — she needed to keep up.
“Bend,” he commanded, pushing her forward until she caught herself on the bedding and bent at the waist, the round curve of her ass presented at the perfect height. “Do you understand why you earned a punishment, pet?”
“Yes, Master. You said to be on the bed in ten minutes, and I wasn’t.” She was squirming, weight shifting from foot to foot, her thighs slightly spread to reveal the glistening petals of her pussy, and he couldn’t help but smile behind her.
My little masochist.
She was waiting for the pain, practically begging for it, but he knew how to make her recognize it as a punishment. Walking over to the chair in the room, he picked up the thick leather strap. It was more powerful than a belt, more unforgiving since the implement didn’t give as easily, but that wasn’t what would make it a punishment for her — it was all about the words. “Was what I asked too difficult, pet?”
“No, Master,” she answered softly, and her breath caught as he ran the leather along her spine, her hands fisting in the comforter on the bed.
“So, why did you disobey me?” As he asked the question she answered with a whine, ass lifting as he brushed the strap over her backside and down to her thigh. “Answer me,” he demanded, sharp and direct.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t watch the time, Master. I got distracted, I didn’t mean to, I swear—” The first crack of the strap across her ass made her jolt forward, a gasped cry cutting off her pleading apologies.
James felt his cock harden against his leg, twitching as she mewed while the heat settled, a bright red stripe blooming on her skin. Gorgeous. “Did you earn a punishment then, pet?”
Nodding against the bedspread, Thalia drew in a deep breath before she spoke, “Yes, Master. I did, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin tonight.”
His lips twitched as he adjusted the strap in his hand and delivered another stripe below the first, and then another below that. With each line her body jerked, a gasp and a whimper, white-knuckled grip on the simple bedding beneath her. “You haven’t ruined it. What are the rules around a punishment?”
“When it’s over, it’s over.” As soon as she spoke the words, her grip relaxed slightly, her body more pliant, and he chose that moment to deliver another strike at the tender place where her ass met her thighs. She yelped and bucked off the bed, arching prettily for a moment before she fell back into position, forehead pressed to the fabric.
“That’s right, pet, but I did ask you to strip and get on the bed within ten minutes, which was plenty of time to undress and tend to whatever you needed. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Master. I know I’ve earned the punishment.” Thalia placed her feet flat to the floor, thighs spread, perfectly presented, and he bit back a groan as he looked over the red stripes. One more for this.
“Yes, pet, you did.” Pulling his arm back, he landed the last stripe across the middle of her ass, over the already pink and sensitive skin, and she groaned into the bedding, muffling her beautiful cries, but his cock still twitched.
She’d held position for him, accepted it, and now he had to discuss what he’d originally planned. Walking back to the chair he dropped the strap and picked up the crop. A sharper, more concise pain, and he rolled it between his fingers as he walked back to her. “Did you earn any other punishments today?”
Thalia’s ribs froze mid-breath, and he waited, letting the silence stretch as her fingers dug a little deeper into the comforter.
Ah, guilt… what do you have to confess, pet?
“Master, I, um—” Burying her face in the bedding, she mumbled something and he tapped one of the welts firmly with the crop.
“Speak clearly.”
Raising up from the bedding, she spoke to the headboard, “I was late to get ready because I snuck off to use my tablet to check on the website.”
Snuck off? James smiled where she couldn’t see him, running the crop from her heel, up her calf, over the backs of her thighs, to the welts he’d already set on her skin. The way her muscles twitched, body shifting as she fought to be still, turned him on. He couldn’t help the erection that now tented the front of his pants, but years of practice allowed him to focus on what needed to be done before he could sate himself. “Explain.”
Thalia whined in frustration, groaning as she lifted to her toes and then dropped her heels sharply enough to make her ass bounce. “Master, Ailsa brought me the tablet to check on the website, but it was my choice to go into a different room and check the messages and reply. I lost track of time and was almost late to the wedding — but I did make it! And I apologized for making Master Kalen worry!”
James fought the chuckle, able to stay silent behind her only because Kalen had already admitted to snagging the tablet that morning and delivering it to Ailsa so she could bring it to Thalia. Their reasoning was sound, and he’d deal with Kalen overstepping his bounds after the honeymoon, but the knowledge that she’d hidden somewhere before the wedding was new.
The fact that Kalen had worried? That was interesting.
“Has Kalen already addressed this, pet?”
“No, Master. He said he’d handle it after we returned from the honeymoon. Everyone was getting me into my dress and trying to do my hair and makeup when he came back.” Thalia’s muscles jumped, contracting and relaxing as he stood in s
ilence behind her with the crop at his side. Twisting, she glanced back at him, and he schooled his expression into neutrality. “Master?”
“I’ll discuss that with Kalen later, but you do remember that I told you to leave the tablet at home? And you understand that even though Ailsa was the one to bring it to you, my decision was still in place?” Before he’d even finished the questions, Thalia had turned back to the bedding, bracing as she nodded over and over.
“Yes, I do, Master. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accepted it without asking you.”
Tracing the crop over her back, he spoke in a quiet, calm voice. “I wanted you to leave it at home so that you could focus on you today, on us. The girls on there are incredible, and I never refuse you when you ask for a little more time to talk to them when we are at home, but I wanted to give you a day without feeling obligated to them. I’d wanted to give you the freedom to enjoy our wedding, our honeymoon, without the guilt I always see in you after you’ve spoken with them. I didn’t make that decision lightly, pet, and I made it for you.”
“I’m sorry…” Thalia whined, her voice cracking, and he knew she was bordering tears — which were not the tears he wanted — but at least she understood. And understanding was important before a punishment.
“Good girl.” He ran the crop along her ass before he pulled it back. “Then this will help you to remember that when I make a decision, it stands. Regardless of who helps you disobey.”
Chapter Eight
“Yes, Master!” She practically screamed it against the bedding as the crop landed, a sharp and heavy impact that made her knees go weak for a moment. The strap had made every inch of her ass sensitive, and it made the crop that much worse, which was appropriate. She had known the moment Ailsa had offered the tablet that she was defying him, but she’d been so hungry to check in, to verify one last time that the women on the site still supported her, wouldn’t hate her for being happy… that she’d ignored his command. Worse, she had run off, hidden so that no one could even stop her from it, and she’d almost fucked up the wedding because of it.
Tying the Knot (Thalia Book 4) (The Thalia Series) Page 9