The Commitment (The Unrestrained #2)

by S. E. Lund

  "My nether regions?" I smiled up at him, deliberately coy.

  "May I remind you that we have an agreement?"

  "I know we do but we agreed to be spontaneous sometimes, and you're obviously hard and, well. I thought…"

  "When it comes to sex, it's not your place to think, Katherine. That's my job. But I'm glad you finally told me why you're being deliberately disobedient, trying to seduce me."

  "You are?" I said, hoping he'd maybe come up with a quick scene we could play out so I could be taken the way I wanted and needed.

  "Yes," he said and moved a bit closer. "That way I'll know why I'm spanking you."

  I frowned. That was not what I wanted to hear. I closed my eyes. "Drake, I need you." I opened my eyes and stared into his, unashamed. "Either that, or let me masturbate."

  He shook his head. "No," he said. "We'll do something later this afternoon. I haven’t decided what just yet, but I want you nice and wet and desperate when the time comes."

  "I'm nice and wet and desperate right now," I said, frustration filling me, my fists clenching.

  "I know it's been a while, but I've been under the weather. You can wait."

  I exhaled heavily. Submit, Kate, my mind screamed. Give in. This is not something you want to fight over.

  I turned and ducked under his arm, exiting the shower and pulling my towel around me. I was angry and frustrated, the ache in my groin nagging me. I wanted to squeeze my thighs together. I wanted to lie on the bed and rub out a quick orgasm to relive my arousal.

  I knew that I was being a bad submissive.

  Drake left the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, his still-semi-hard erection straining against the fabric.

  "No one said it would be easy, Kate."

  I shot him a glance and frowned. "It doesn't make sense," I said, so frustrated. "I'm horny and you’re hard. We should just … fuck. It's been almost a week."

  "I don't want to just fuck. That's an end to it, Katherine," he said as if trying to remind me of the direction of our power exchange. I knew it was his decision but I’d never felt so aroused outside of our encounters. I never felt deprived. I felt that way now.

  I sighed and turned away, heading to my drawers in Drake's dresser to pick out some clothes for the day. Drake followed me and stood behind me.

  "How does it feel?"

  I pulled a drawer open a bit too roughly and it almost fell out. "You know very well how it feels."

  "No, I don't. I don't have a delicious little woman's body like you. Tell me. Close your eyes and describe how your body feels."

  I stopped what I was doing. Maybe, if I described it well enough, he'd have to have sex with me. I closed my eyes. I felt him come around to face me, but I kept my eyes closed and bit my bottom lip as I thought of how my body felt.

  "Butterflies in my stomach," I said. "My body aches, everything feels swollen. It's throbbing a bit, like a heartbeat. I feel a little breathless. I'm wet and I feel like I want to squeeze my thighs together. Rub my clit." I opened my eyes. "I want your cock inside of me."

  He leaned against the dresser, his elbow resting on the top, his knee bent.

  "If I was to fuck you now," he said, his voice a bit breathy, "it would be over in about two minutes. You'd orgasm and then two minutes later, I would and it would be finished."

  I nodded. "That would be a relief. I could get on with my day."

  "You make sex sound like a simple bodily function," he said, that wicked grin starting. Then his expression changed and became more serious. "Sex between us is more than that, Kate. It should be special."

  I sighed. "You're trying to keep the potatoes and gravy separate on the plate, Drake."

  I turned away and left his side, because I was unable to keep looking at his face. He grabbed my arm and stopped me, pulling me back to face him once more.

  "Kate," he said. "You're here with me all the time now, pretty much every hour of the day when we're both free. What more do you need?"

  "I'm not with you very long. You keep extremely busy, even now when you aren’t working as a surgeon. Even when you don’t have to be away. I'm afraid that you're trying to avoid me."

  I pulled my arm out of his grip and grabbed my jeans and a sweater, a clean bra and undies. Then, I went to the bed and began to dress. He followed me to the bed and stood watching me dress.

  "I'm not the only one who's busy. You spend every day at the studio and do I complain? Why would I try to avoid you?"

  I shook my head as I dressed. "I don’t know. You're the one with an undergraduate degree in psychology. Your life's getting too messy and out of control? You're afraid of being hurt again?"

  "You’re not afraid of being hurt?"

  I shook my head. "I'm more afraid of feeling nothing. No love. No pain. Nothing feels like," I said, searching for the right words. "Like death. Like the people I saw in the camps, skeletons, barely alive but living despite everything, their eyes huge, blank. Even pain is better." I went to him and looked in his face. "I want to feel, Drake. Everything, good and bad. It was like I couldn't feel when I was depressed. Nothing. That's what I'm afraid of."

  I sighed and pulled my sweater over my head. Drake said nothing, standing beside the bed watching me.

  "You're here with me," I said, trying to explain how I felt. "But you still need to keep it all separate. Now, you do it all with me present. But none of it really mixes. It's like you're keeping that part of yourself separate, not emotionally involved in sex, so that it’s pure. You can control it. Protect yourself. It means you can never get really close to me."

  He frowned and rubbed his forehead.

  "I don't understand," he said. "What more do you want from me? We sleep together. We eat together. We fuck. A lot."

  "Not lately." As soon as I said it, I knew it was wrong.

  "I have a good reason."

  I shook my head. "I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. Of course you have a good reason. But I can't be the one who initiates. Why? Does it threaten you that I have desire outside of your actions?"

  He shook his head. "No, of course not. I know you do. But submission requires that you turn over your desires and choices to me. It frees you so that you no longer feel responsible for your desire or when we have sex. That's what submissives crave."

  "I want it spontaneous sometimes. Whenever either of us feels a need, we fuck. I also want bondage and dominance. I love it. But can't we mix it up a bit? What's wrong with that?"

  "I'm a Dominant. You knew that when we started this." He stood there, hands on hips. "For God's sake, Kate. That’s what you were looking for when you found Lara. Now, it seems as though you don’t really want it. You want a vanilla relationship with me, with a bit of bondage and kink thrown in when you decide you want it. Submission doesn’t work like that."

  "You were a lot more spontaneous when we were first together at 8th Avenue. What happened?" I went to him and put my hands on his chest, staring up in his eyes. "Things have changed since Maureen came here and you learned about Liam."

  "Kate, I'm a Dominant," he said again, and I could hear the frustration in his voice. "I need control. We've been over this." His gaze moved over my face. "Are you unhappy with me?" His face was guarded, his eyes half-hooded.

  I sighed heavily. "I love you, Drake but you told me to tell you if I felt neglected. Well, I feel neglected."

  He stared at me, his gaze moving over my face. "I understand, but I'm not fucking you now," he said, his voice calm. "You'll have to wait."

  "Fine," I said and pulled on my socks. I went to the closet and grabbed my coat, my scarf and mitts. Then I picked up my bag and went to the door.

  "Where are you going?" he asked, standing in the entryway, watching me.

  "Outside to work off some of this unresolved sexual tension. Outside of sex, I'm a free agent, Drake. I'm not submissive. I can do whatever I please. I'm going to the studio. Then, I might go to my parents. I might go to an art gallery. Who knows?"

  "Do
n't do this, Kate. Don't leave angry."

  "See you later," I said, slamming the door behind me.

  I felt frustrated but mostly, I felt afraid. I understood that letting the Dom decide when to have sex was part of D/s and that the submissive turned over all those decisions to her Dom, but since Drake found out about Liam, he'd been away most of the day, coming back to the apartment only late in the day. We'd barely had sex. I felt him pulling back, as if he was reverting to his old ways.

  I walked to a small park close to the apartment and sat on a bench. Then, I called Lara.

  "Problems with Drake?"

  "You got it."

  I told her how it had been with us. "I feel like he's going back to the way things were before we met. Keeping his emotions so carefully under control."

  She sighed on the other end of the call.

  "Sounds like typical Dom/sub adjustments. Drake's a bit older. Older men tend to want quality over quantity. It's both physical and psychological. They have more experience, they tend to want to spend more time and they have more stamina. What Drake wants makes sense, though. He wants to channel all your desire and focus it on your scenes so that they're even more intense. It sounds like it's working if you find them really thrilling. But you're chafing a bit under the saddle."

  "The saddle? Am I a horse?" I said, smiling despite being frustrated.

  She laughed. "Just a useful term. Horses tend to get sores from wearing a saddle for the first time, being ridden often, controlled by their rider. Nothing that other life partners don't face. Don’t make more of it than you need to. Look at this frustrated sexual desire as a gift you give to Drake when you're in scene with him. He enjoys your desire, controlling it, satisfying it. That's his thing, Kate. Not pain. Not humiliation. Getting into your mind and giving you pleasure. It will be that much better for you both if you just give in."

  "Now that I have him there in my bed every morning, I want him but I don't get to enjoy him. It's very frustrating."

  "Think about how good it will be when you do your scene later. You'll be dying for it and it will be that much better. Seriously, Kate. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Familiarity breeds contempt."

  "Out of sight, out of mind," I countered.

  "Is he out of your mind now?"

  "No, but I feel as if he's avoiding me. He escapes every day and I wonder if he's trying to keep a distance between us. Like he's not able to really be a couple. It's why his marriage fell apart, and now I'm afraid he's reverting back to that pattern."

  "Adjustments, Kate. Baby steps for both of you. You as a sub, him as a life partner. I think he'd pretty much written that off for himself after the divorce so you're unexpected."

  "You think so?"

  "I know so. He said he did love and marriage once and realized it wasn't for him."

  I was silent for a moment, thinking of Drake giving up on love and marriage. How sad, if so. Was he that afraid of being hurt again? I couldn’t imagine a man as accomplished and intelligent and strong being afraid of having his heart broken.

  If he really felt he couldn't do love and marriage, was there any future for us?

  "Kate, Drake's in love with you," Lara said, as if reading my mind. "That much I do know. Give him time. Give yourself time. This is a big adjustment for you both, especially now with all this on Drake's plate. Baby steps, honey. Let him take baby steps. He's letting you."

  "You're probably right."

  "I know I'm right. Just love him, and submit when you have to. You'll be happier if you do. He's let you in farther than any other woman since his ex-wife. Kate, chill out and let this happen between you two. Don't have too many expectations. Try to enjoy him. That's really all I can say. Trust me."

  I exhaled. "I'm sorry. You're right. I am over-thinking. It’s what I do."

  "Good bye, Kate," she said and I could hear some humor and tolerance in her voice. "You are both complicated people. I guess I can expect nothing less than these phone calls asking for advice from you two."

  "Has Drake called you asking for advice?"

  "I can neither confirm nor deny that, Kate. He's my friend first, but rest assured I want what's best for you both."

  "Isn't it unethical to talk to the other side during a case?"

  "You bet it is," she said and laughed. "Luckily, you are not a case. You’re my very good friend's lover. I want him happy, and I know that he’ll be happy if things work out between you so I'm on your side too, Kate. I knew right away you two would click. I was hoping he'd be ready for something more. I figured you’d be just what the doctor ordered, so to speak."

  I laughed, smiling as I thought about Lara acting as matchmaker and therapist.

  "Thanks, Lara. I won't bug you again for at least a day or two."

  "I'll hold you to that!" She hung up and I felt much better.

  I got up from the bench and started walking, feeling incredibly silly for making such a scene earlier. Drake must be shaking his head that he got messed up with a sub who wasn't very submissive. I thought I was submissive. Maybe not completely a sub.

  Maybe we'd have to find some kind of happy medium, if that was even possible in this lifestyle.

  Drake was a complicated man. I couldn’t expect it to be all smooth sailing. We had to adjust to each other. Maureen's return and Drake learning about Liam and his illness was a complication that would test us. I didn’t want it to trip me up in my relationship with Drake.

  As if I didn't have enough problems, when I opened my email, the first one in the queue was from Dawn. I knew it was probably a mistake to read it, but at the same time, I couldn't resist. Inside was one thing – a hyperlink to a webpage and I knew immediately what it was.

  A video. One of Drake with Sunita.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I sat with my phone in my hand, the email and link open, debating with myself whether to watch it. Finally, I opened the link, my heart pounding. The woman in the video was attractive, of East Indian descent. She was petite, with long dark hair and huge dark eyes. She was beautiful.

  The video showed a man binding her, his careful movements designed to place the leather strips in specific locations, creating a pattern on her body. The man's face was hidden, but I recognized Drake's firm ass and nice body. His black hair was shorter than it was now, but I could tell it was him.

  She watched his face intently as he bound her, an almost worshipful expression on hers.

  I closed the link and threw my phone into my backpack.

  I walked aimlessly, feeling like I couldn’t breathe, hiking through the slushy streets, my heart racing, a sick feeling in my stomach. I walked on, not certain where I would go or what I would do, afraid that the video would show me something I didn’t want to see.

  Finally, I arrived back at the apartment. Drake had gone so I was alone and I felt a huge hole inside of me because I'd left angrily and over such a stupid thing. I wandered around the apartment and felt totally lost.

  I went back to my email from Dawn and clicked the link once more.

  Drake moved her to a St. John's Cross, her hands and ankles cuffed, now blindfolded and gagged. He kept his back to the camera, standing in front of her, using a riding crop, slapping her thighs and shaved pussy with it, dragging it between her spread thighs to tap her labia over and over, repeating a pattern. She moaned when he slapped her pussy, and he leaned closer and squeezed a clamp attached to her nipple, tugging on it, twisting it so she writhed on the cross.

  He released the clamp on the other nipple and bent to it. She writhed and moaned over the ball gag and I assumed he'd sucked her nipple to soothe it.

  "You like that, do you, slave?" he said, his voice breathy. "You're such a bad girl. You need this."

  With that, he slapped the crop over her breasts, repeating the process on the other breast before moving back to her labia, which he slapped repeatedly with the crop.

  The video ended at that point and I was glad. Nothing on the video meant that Drake was into p
ain or had engaged in edge play or knife play with Sunita. Still, there were bruises on her thighs. Drake told me that he tried to make Sunita happy, but that in the end, he didn’t respond to pain, giving it or receiving it.

  Ultimately, I had to accept one of their accounts of their relationship. The video did nothing except make me feel extremely guilty and I was no further along than if I had never clicked on the link. Except that now I had the image of Drake twisting a clamp on one of her nipples, and slapping her with the riding crop.

  I sighed, a knot in my stomach. In truth, I felt sick.

  I took a taxi to my father's place and entered the apartment to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

  "Hey, sweetie, you’re up and around pretty early."

  "I was awake and bored so I thought I'd come for a visit."

  "I'm always glad to see you. Where’s Drake?"

  "Taking care of business," I said.

  "Come on in. I'll get you a cup of Joe."

  While he fixed me a cup, I texted Drake.

  I'm sorry, Drake. Please don’t be mad at me. I was being a spoiled child. Forgive me? It's just that sometimes, I have so much desire for you, I forget how to submit.

  I sent the text and sat with my father at the island in the kitchen, drinking coffee and chatting about nothing in particular. I checked my phone for Drake's response, but there was nothing.

  "Let me get you some breakfast," my father said and proceeded to make some silver dollar pancakes, like he used to when Heath and I were kids.

  Later, when my father went to his study to take care of his own business, I took a taxi to the studio in Chelsea and worked on my canvas. I checked my cell frequently to see if Drake had texted me, but there was nothing. He was ignoring me or punishing me.

  I had lunch of Pho from a nearby Vietnamese restaurant that Keith brought in for the three of us, and when I finished working on the canvas for the day, it was late in the afternoon. I stood back and checked it out, pleased with my progress.