Unbound Surrender
Page 5
As if she could move.
He released her wrists and then the clamps. Blood rushed back into her compressed nipples. She gasped.
The pain receded by slow measures. He was there, helping her from the bench. Before all the circuits in her brain were fully engaged, he had her against the wall, hands above her head, crossed at the wrist and imprisoned in one of his hands.
“I want to look at you as I fuck you.”
She looked up at him. With the pad of his thumb he wiped away her tears.
“Bad tears?”
“Good ones.”
He thrust up, filling her. She rose onto her tiptoes to accommodate his length. Her pussy clenched around him. This man filled her, completed her.
He took her mouth in a stunning kiss that claimed her completely. She willingly gave everything she had to offer, meeting his tongue in a simulated fuck, offering her body.
He kept his gaze on hers; she forced herself to keep her eyes open, wanting that connection.
After she orgasmed again, he sought his own release, driving upwards and making her gasp.
She felt the intensity of his ejaculation. He groaned in a thoroughly heady, masculine way.
Before she was prepared, he withdrew.
She blinked in confusion.
“Get dressed,” he told her. “Meet me in my office in five minutes.”
“But—”
“Five minutes.” His eyes were dark and unreadable, the way they had been when she’d removed her collar.
Stunned, she watched him discard the condom in the rubbish and pull on his clothes.
And he wanted her to dress, as well.
The door behind him closed quietly, anticlimactically.
She forced herself to stand upright when all she really wanted was to sink onto the floor. She’d realised something in being pushed past her limits, she was shattered. She loved Stephen Duvall. And she’d never stopped.
Chapter Five
He was sitting behind his desk and he looked up when she knocked. Lord and master of all he surveyed.
She slowly entered his domain, somewhere she had never been entirely comfortable, despite their months of marriage. He came in here to work and he had always made her welcome, but she figured he’d return to her quicker without constant interruptions.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, kneeling.
“Sit there.” He indicated a sturdy leather chair across from him.
He didn’t want her kneeling? She crossed to the intimidating chair in front of his large desk and perched on the edge of the seat, nervous and unsure. “What did I do wrong?”
“You did everything right. Everything perfect.”
She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
“You did everything you should have done two years ago. You asked me to push your boundaries. I did. You excelled. Lesson learnt. You achieved what you set out to accomplish, and our time here is through. Go back to your life, Jessica, find another man. Be happy.”
“You’re done? We’re done? Just like that?” Her heart was lodged in her throat, feeling like it would strangle her.
“I can’t let you back in my life, Jessica, to fuck with my head again. You’re a natural sub—”
“Not true,” she interjected. “I am natural with you. I only want you to master me.”
“It’s too late.”
“Why?”
“I’ll be blunt. I will not allow any woman, especially you, to come into my life and use me to play a game with herself. You had something to prove and you proved it. Two years ago, you made a decision to turn your back on our life together. You can live with that decision.”
She battled her hurt. She was tempted to just leave like he said he wanted. But damn it, if he didn’t care for her, he wouldn’t have that temper simmering under the surface. When they’d first started having scenes, he had been nonchalant. She suspected he had a few different women he played with at the time, and she’d suspected any of them had been interchangeable. Until they’d fallen in love.
“I’ll ring for a car.”
“The fuck you will,” she said, coming to her feet. “We will talk about this.”
“You had your opportunity.” He picked up a pen and rolled it between his thumb and fingers.
“Fine. I have a few things I’m going to say.” She placed her hands on top of his glistening desk and leant forward, not giving a rip that she was going to leave handprints all over the surface. “I ran because I was a coward and because I didn’t know how to talk with you. I thought it was easier to flee than face my own fears and you. And I was wrong.”
Jessica took a breath and more quietly added. “I loved you then. I love you now. I’m here of my own free will, asking for another chance. There’s no collar, no wedding ring, nothing to make me stay, to stake your claim on me, nothing except…” She drew a breath to steady her nerves. She was fighting for everything she wanted and needed. And damn it, he’d been as into their scenes as she had. No one could fake the way he’d taken her against the wall. That wasn’t restrained. It was passion, pure and raw. “Nothing except what I feel. I love you, Stephen Duvall. Master.”
“Are you finished?”
“No.”
His brows raised.
“You’re being a coward now like I was back then. You’re not indifferent to me and you can’t pretend you are. If you want me to leave, you’ll have to kick me out because I’m not going to be the one to turn my tail and run.” She paused. Suddenly she was out of steam. “Now I’m done.”
“Sit down.”
She blinked. At least he hadn’t kicked her out yet.
“Did you call me a coward?”
“Uhm.” She licked her lower lip. “Yes. I did. Sir.” Shit. That may not have been one of her brighter moves. But if he was sending her away, it made no difference. “Why do you want me to go?” In for a penny, in for a pound. “Because you liked what happened between us? Because you’re afraid of letting me back under your skin? Because you don’t want to be hurt again? Life doesn’t come with guarantees, Stephen, you know that from your business. It’s risky, and sometimes you don’t win. I’ve seen your pain when you lose clients. I’ve seen your anguish when you lose employees. But you do it anyway.”
She held out her hands in supplication. She’d made the best play she could, been as honest as she knew how. The rest was up to him.
Stephen leaned back against the chair and looked at her. Goddamn if she wasn’t right. He was looking at this from the point of view of a man who’d been screwed. She was right about his business and he understood calculated risk. Was she worth the risk?
As if he were studying a spreadsheet, he considered her as he rolled the pen back and forth.
This wasn’t the same woman who’d run.
She’d walked back into his house and life uninvited. She’d swallowed her fear and done everything he’d demanded. And now she was standing and fighting him, for him, for them. She wasn’t backing down. “What do you want, Jessica?”
“I know we can’t go back to the way we were. I don’t expect you to marry me again anytime soon, if ever. But I’m asking for a second chance to be your sub.”
She tucked her hair nervously behind her ear. She’d stood there before him defiantly, and she’d be mortified if she knew he’d seen her tremble.
“I’m asking for one day at a time. I’m not asking for guarantees or promises. But I will tell you this, I will not run away ever again. If our relationship ends, it will be because we’ve talked about it and mutually decided to end it, without recrimination, without anger.”
“Your collar is in the closet of the master bedroom. On my tie rack. If you’re serious, you know what to do.”
He saw her shoulders collapse with relief.
She was right that their relationship may end. But he couldn’t cut it off now because he had apprehensions.
The woman he’d gagged, hooded and blindfolded was not the woman who’d da
shed out his front door and asked for nothing in their divorce settlement. This woman was confident, secure, and she knew what she wanted.
She stood.
He watched her leave the room.
He heard her exchange words with Mrs. Boxley and a moment later, the housekeeper entered his office without knocking and waiting for permission.
“’Bout bloody time you got your head straight on, sir, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I do mind, Mrs. Boxley. Very much.”
“But there you go, sir, I already said so, now didn’t I?” She gave him a saucy grin before leaving the room.
Seemed the women of the household were in cahoots.
He considered moving to the parlour, but that was neutral territory. He wanted her to return to his office, if she chose to return.
He pushed away from his desk and paced, telling himself that if she changed her mind it was for the best. But he couldn’t make himself believe it. Instead, pacing was burning the nervous energy. He spun the globe in the corner, looked out the window, straightened a pile of papers on the edge of his desk.
Minutes later, he heard a soft noise and he turned towards the doorway.
She was nude, on all fours and the collar was in her mouth.
She waited for his nod before crossing the threshold. Her head downcast, she crawled to him. She raised to a kneeling position, hands behind her neck, breasts thrust slightly forward, knees farther than shoulder-width apart and leaning back just a touch. She was spread beautifully for him, wide open.
“You really are lovely.” Then, more quietly, he admitted something he hadn’t wanted to admit to either of them, until now. “I love you, Jess.”
Her eyes closed momentarily.
He walked over and took the collar from her mouth. “What should I do with this?”
“Please, Master. Put it around my neck. I willingly submit myself to your guidance and discipline. I will do everything I can to earn this honour.”
This time, she sounded like she believed what she said.
She swept her hair from her neck, waiting patiently.
He thought about it another few seconds. Accepting her submission wasn’t just a bunch of words to him, it also meant he was committing to being a good Dom. Only by being a good Dom could she be the best possible sub.
“Please collar me, Master.”
Undone, he moved in and fastened the leather in place. She dropped her hair, and touched the thin leather strip. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then she lowered herself to kiss his foot. Looking up at him, she said, “I love you.”
He was unable to wait a moment longer. It was enough. What they had was enough. He gathered her in his arms and carried her up the stairs and into the master bedroom. “This time, I want your hands only on me,” he said, lowering her on top of the bed. He didn’t take the time to pull back the bedspread or arrange the pillows. They’d had sex less than an hour before, and he was already hard, his body demanding he posses her.
He shucked his clothes and reached for a condom.
She spread her legs in invitation. “I want you.”
“We’ll work on your speaking without permission,” he promised. “Later.” Much later. He slid into her warm, moist heat.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he heard her sigh.
He had her, in his arms, in his bed, in his life. Her surrender had been her idea, not his, and this time, that was going to be what made the difference. He hadn’t pushed, she offered.
He kissed her with unrestrained passion of his own. “Welcome home,” he said.
About the Author
Born in Northern England and raised in the Wild West, Sierra Cartwright pens book that are as untamed as the Rockies she calls home.
She's an award-winning, multi-published writer who wrote her first book at age nine and hasn't stopped since.
Sierra invites you to share the complex journey of love and desire, of surrender and commitment. Her own journey has taught her that trusting takes guts and courage, and her work is a celebration for everyone who is willing to take that risk.
Email: sierracartwright@hotmail.com
Sierra loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Sierra Cartwright
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Night of the Senses: Voyeur
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