by S. E. Lund
"Is there any risk?"
He shook his head. "Not really. They're very skilled at this and have been doing it successfully now for years. It's amazing and has saved so many lives." I followed him into the kitchen, where he kept his bottle of Anisovaya. Yelena Kuznetsova's shot glasses were at my father's apartment, so instead, Drake sorted through his glasses in the kitchen cupboard and brought out two mismatched juice glasses.
"These will have to do," he said and poured two shots of vodka for us. He passed one to me and then held his own up. "Za vas," he said, unable to muster much enthusiasm.
"Za vas," I replied, forcing a smile, and together, we shot back the vodka. Then he took my glass out of my hand and put them both on the side table. He pulled me into his arms, his going around my shoulders, mine around his waist, my head resting on his chest.
"What a night," he said, exhaling heavily. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
I squeezed him more tightly. "You've had a shock. Shock after shock. To learn you have a son, and that he has leukemia, and that you might be a match for a bone marrow transplant… It's a lot to take in at once."
He nodded but said nothing, his hand stroking my hair. Then, he kissed the top of my head. "I need you," he said, his voice hoarse. "I need to get lost in you."
I pulled my head off his chest and looked up in his eyes, which were half-hooded. I heard the need in his voice and my body responded immediately.
"I'm yours," I said, emotion filling me, making my throat choke up. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need."
He bent down and kissed me, his kiss soft at first, but growing in passion as his hands stroked down my back to my ass, which he squeezed with both hands.
"I need you naked, now," he said, his voice breathless. He began stripping away my clothes, first my sweater and jeans, then my bra and panties and socks so that I stood naked in front of him, my heart racing.
"So beautiful…"
He pulled me to the bedroom, and I wondered what he'd do to me, how he'd fuck me. Would he tie me up and make me come three times? Would he do something new? He didn’t have his toys at 8th Avenue. Only the old leather tie we'd used that first night he actually bound my hands.
Then, to my surprise, he pressed me face down over the edge of the bed, one hand on my shoulder.
"Clasp your hands together," he said. I did as he ordered. "Spread your legs farther apart."
I complied without a word or hesitation, my hands sliding up so they were above me on the bed. I heard his belt buckle jangle as he unfastened it, and the zzzhr as he pulled down his zipper. And then, without any preliminaries, without any foreplay besides the one kiss, he entered me, his cock hard as rock. I gasped as he filled me up, the pressure intense and a shock.
Then he fucked me. Hard.
One hand gripped my hip while with the other, he twisted a fist of hair, holding me down. He said nothing, just thrust hard and fast, the slap slap slap of his body against me increasing in pace and loudness, his breathing matching it.
I deliberately did not let my body respond to anything. I merely listened and felt and experienced Drake fucking me, his need for release – for the sweet release of endorphins from his orgasm. His thrusts increased in speed and then he leaned over me, his mouth on my shoulder, biting down a bit. He kissed the spot and then leaned closer, his mouth next to my ear.
"I'm just going to fuck you," he said, his voice harsh. "I'm just going to fuck you. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I said, letting the feel of him thrusting so hard and fast wash over me.
"Oh, fuck," he said, his mouth beside my ear. "Oh, fuck…"
Then he came, and I caught a glimpse of him when I craned my neck as far as I could. His face was red, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw gritted tightly. He grunted in my ear with each slow thrust as he ejaculated, his face slackening, his mouth opening as he panted.
Then he collapsed on top of me, his weight almost crushing me, his cock still inside of me, throbbing now and then in the aftermath of his orgasm. Then he moved aside slightly and I could breathe once more.
I said nothing. He said nothing. Finally, he rose up and pulled out of me slowly and I knew he was watching to see evidence of his pleasure seeping out of me. Creampie, he told me it was called.
I crushed my face into the coverlet to hide my smile. Yes, my body still felt need, I was unsatisfied sexually, but I was happy. Drake couldn't stop from using my body for his own pleasure. He was totally focused on himself and his own need – for once.
He finally took me as I always wanted him to and for once, I felt that he truly needed me.
I continued to lie there, waiting for what he would do. He went right to the bathroom and I heard him running water. When he returned, he held a wet washcloth and a towel in hand and proceeded to clean my body off, stroking it over my flesh gently. Then, he lay beside me on the bed on his back, his head turned to face mine.
"Thank you."
I smiled and reached out to touch his cheek. "Thank you."
He nodded without smiling. Then he rolled over and threw his arm and leg over my body, pulling me closer. "I like that I can fuck you with no preliminaries. That you want me to when I need you that badly. It makes me happy."
We lay like that, not speaking, for a few moments. Finally, he exhaled.
"I'm exhausted," he said, pulling away, rising from the bed to undress. After we both brushed our teeth, we crawled into bed and within a very short time, Drake was asleep beside me, his breathing deep and slow.
In contrast, I lay in the darkness and listened to Drake breathe. In sleep, his leg was thrown over me possessively as we lay naked, spooned in each other's arms, my back to him. For the first time ever, he'd had an orgasm without making me have one. It satisfied me in a strange way that, finally, he'd dropped his insistence on making me orgasm twice to his one. He needed me enough to take me, focusing completely on his own pleasure. That would be something I would have frowned on only a few short months ago, but so much had changed in my life since that day I agreed to go to my father's fundraiser – the first one I'd attended since I returned from Africa.
Drake had changed me. I felt almost like a different person now. Stronger. More sure of myself. Sure enough to try things I never would before, to tell Dawn that we couldn't be friends until she learned to accept Drake was part of my life. Willing to give Africa another try.
Strange how being Drake's sexual submissive and lover had been the one thing that changed it all.
Drake had changed as well. Once, he was so tightly controlled, his life so regimented and rule-governed, keeping the parts of his life separate. Now, he wanted to be with me, all the time. With me, he didn't use D/s as a way to keep his emotional distance. He didn't have to tie me up to enjoy me, although he did.
Learning he had a son, that his son had cancer, and that his son's life may depend on whether he was a tissue match had shaken Drake. He was a man whose life had been suddenly turned upside-down – this time not in a good way. I was glad I was there to comfort him. I wondered how this experience would change him even more.
He was a father, but would never be able to actually act like one with Liam. Not until Liam was an adult and could choose to include Drake. Would Drake change his mind about his plans for his life as a result?
He didn't see himself as a family man for he'd never really had a family of his own. He didn't see himself as a father, for his own father had treated Drake with benign neglect. Women had always left Drake, starting with a mother who lost her first son to leukemia and who could never recover from the loss, even when Drake came along. Maureen left when Drake failed at being a good husband. He tied his D/s partners up and used them sexually. That, or he saw them as colleagues. Nothing more.
I had no idea what the future held for us. Despite our plans to go to Africa, for Drake to teach and work as a surgeon in Nairobi, life intervened. I was glad he didn’t have to cancel his teaching position. He didn’t need the income but he
enjoyed teaching. He had committed to helping with the hospital's neurosurgical slate and the delay in him arriving if he was a match would be a disappointment for them. Would Drake even want to leave at all now that he knew his son was ill and possibly dying?
I could only hold on tight to him and see where life with all its twists and turns took us.
Finally, with Drake's face nuzzled into my neck, I fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
In the morning, Drake slipped out of bed before I did, without waking me up, and was standing naked in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He looked delicious.
"You're up early," I called from the bed.
He finished brushing and rinsed his mouth. He came to the side of he bed and looked at me, his expression amused. "You were sleeping like a baby. You tossed and turned until pretty late, so I figured I'd let you sleep in."
With that, he leaned down and kissed me.
"Are you coming back to bed?" I brushed a strand of his hair from his eyes. He really needed a haircut, but I liked it when his hair was a bit wild.
"No can do. The oncologist called and left me a message. I have to get my test today. What are your plans?" he said as he retrieved his shirt from the closet and buttoned the top button, then adjusted his tie.
"I have absolutely nothing to do," I said, planning on surprising him with the painting when it was done.
"Don’t forget to take your meds. Even though we might not be going for a while, you should build up your levels. Text me so I know you're OK. Malarone can have side effects, especially for people who've had previous periods of clinical depression."
I nodded and smiled at him. "Always the doctor."
"You know it." He sat on the bed beside me and leaned over to kiss me.
I smiled when he pulled away. "I'll miss you."
He smiled back, that look in his eye. "I'm not used to having a woman in my bed. I think I should have woken you for a quickie. You look very delicious, lying there all warm and naked under my covers, Ms. Bennet."
"You should have. I might just have to look at dirty pictures on the web and do myself." I grinned at the look on his face.
"You'll do no such thing, you tease," he said and leaned closer, a look of mock affront on his face. "You are not allowed to masturbate unless I'm watching."
"What you don't know will please me," I said, only fooling.
He frowned. "No, Kate. I'm serious. When you're mine, I own all your orgasms. No masturbation unless I'm watching. Do you understand?"
It wasn’t that I was really thinking of masturbating. "I can't masturbate unless I'm with you?"
He nodded, his expression serious. "I thought you understood. You're mine sexually. Would you like it if I was to masturbate when we're apart or would you prefer that I save it all up for you?"
I shook my head. "No. I understand. I was kidding."
He exhaled. "I don't want to be overly possessive, Kate. But this is important. I'm very jealous and want every orgasm you have to be mine."
"I understand. I was making a joke, teasing."
He nodded. "In a D/s relationship, there can be no hiding things from your Dom. Anything to do with sex, with our relationship, you have to be completely honest and open with me. You have to trust me and I have to trust you or this won’t work. That means, as hard as it may be at times, complete honesty."
"I'm sorry. I'll try to be as honest and open as I can."
He tucked a stand of hair behind my ear. "I love you, Kate." He kissed me once more, the nice mood dissipated, his frown remaining.
"I love you," I said, warmth for him spreading through me, making my throat choke a bit. "I wish you could stay."
"You know I want you, but we'll have to hold that thought."
"I understand."
"This won't take long. They'll take some blood and then we'll meet in his office. I expect he'll run through the procedures in case I'm a match."
"I hope you are a match."
He nodded, his face grim. "Liam has a very rare mutation. I probably passed it to him. If we're a good-enough match, he'll have the best chance at survival without as many problems with rejection."
"How long before you know?"
He sighed. "We'll try to speed up the process. I know a technician and can probably pay the tech to stay late and run the test. I wouldn't bump anyone out of line. Physicians have these ins with technicians that we can sometimes use when we need fast results."
"If it was me, I'd do the same thing."
"Money talks."
I nodded and slipped my arms around his neck. "A parent will do anything for their child."
He made a sound, like a harrumph of disgust. "Not all of them."
I thought again about his mother leaving him, his father neglecting him.
"You will."
"I will." He stood and pulled on his trousers. "It may be the only thing I can do for him."
I slipped out of bed and stood naked, watching as he finished dressing. When he was done, he pulled me tightly against him.
"I'm sorry to be dragging you into all this. I'm sure you didn’t expect a lot of drama when you signed the agreement, but that's what you've got."
"I signed up to be with you – because I wanted you. I love you, remember? This," I said and kissed him. "This drama comes with the territory."
"I love you." He lifted me up and off the floor, pressing his face in my neck, and it was such a sweet show of his emotions that it made my breath hitch in my throat, and my eyes well up. He kissed me once more, the kiss passionate, needy, and then he let me slide down his body so that my feet were once more on the floor. "Sweet sweet Ms. Bennet with the overly-big heart."
"Sweet sweet Drake who can't keep his potatoes from mixing with the gravy." I smiled up at him and brushed a hank of his too-long and wild hair from his face. "I wish you didn’t have to leave."
"Me too, especially with you looking like that."
I grinned, still not entirely comfortable walking around nude. When he left the bedroom, I grabbed one of his shirts from the closet and pulled it on. I followed him to the kitchen where he stopped at the window and grabbed his cup of coffee, drinking down the last drops. I threaded my arms around his waist from behind. "I look forward to our morning surprises."
"Here at Morgan Enterprises, we aim to please, Ms. Bennet" he said and chuckled, pressing his butt against me. "But I just can't offer my services this morning."
"So you did you read those books," I said, with mock surprise.
"What books?" he said, feigning innocence. He turned to face me again. "You mean, Dale Carnegie on how to win friends and influence people?"
"You know very well what books."
"The first one. I think pretty much every Dom I know read some, to see what the public might learn about the lifestyle."
"And?"
"I claim the Fifth," he said. "Romance isn't my thing. But I will say I have several things in common with the hero."
"Such as?"
"Well, for starters," he said. "One very inquisitive sub who asks a lot of questions and who makes him lose control of scenes because of her impertinence..."
"Impertinence."
"But I'm an old man compared to him, and not a self-made boy genius billionaire so you must be disappointed."
"Oh, terribly," I said and kissed him, not at all disappointed and he knew it. The kiss was warm and soft, his arms squeezing me, pulling me closer. When he ran his hands up my back, he ended the kiss and pulled away, frowning.
"What's with the shirt? I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to always be naked when we were alone here."
I laughed. "In case you didn't notice, what with your incredible hotness and all, it's cold in your apartment. But you'll keep me warm," I said and pulled him against me firmly.
"You'll make me late if you keep that up," he said playfully.
"That's the idea…"
"If I had time, I'd say yes," he said. "You all hot and bothered is
my greatest desire. But I can't this morning."
"How long will you be?"
He rocked me in his arms for a moment. "It should take about an hour. Then I have to go to the Foundation and do some paperwork, and then I have to drop in at the business office to sign some papers. If the meeting this morning doesn't take too long, I should be back for dinner. Then I want us to meet back here."
He left me standing in the kitchen.
Later, while I fixed a second cup of coffee, my cell rang. It was my father. I was glad he called as I had meant to call him and let him know the news.
"Hey, sweetie," he said, using Facetime. He was at his desk as usual. "What's up?"
I told him about Liam, recounting the call Drake had received and the events of the previous evening.
"Oh, that's terrible," his voice betraying genuine concern. "How's Drake taking it?"
I sighed, remembering Drake's response.
"As well as could be expected," I said, a catch in my throat. "He's shaken. He's going to be tested this morning to see if he's a tissue match and can donate his stem cells. He's willing to do anything to help Liam."
"Of course he is."
I told him what Drake had told me about the whole transplant preparation.
"Tell Drake I'll be thinking about Liam. My prayers will be for success."
"Thanks Daddy," I said, emotion filling me. "I'm sure he'll appreciate the sentiment."
I spent the day working on my sketch, getting lost in the study of different parts of his body. When Drake returned late that night, he wasn't all that interested in doing any kind of scene. Instead, we sat on the couch and ate some takeout Thai food he picked up on the way home.
He was subdued, laying on the couch with his head on my lap, watching news while I ran my hand affectionately through his hair. He turned onto his back about ten o'clock and looked up into my eyes, one hand going to my cheek.
"I'm sorry I'm not up to too much," he said. "I'm a bit exhausted for some reason."
I leaned down and kissed him. "You've had a huge shock. It's understandable."
"Do you mind if we just go to bed to sleep tonight?"