Complete Me (Bound to You Book 3)

by Jane Henry

  Meredith knew she and Paolo were growing, learning to meet one another’s needs. But she knew they were not at the level Little Lady was describing, that level of understanding she so strongly desired. And she wanted to be.

  Do you ever question your choice to be his submissive?

  Right before he punishes me. Every time.

  Meredith smiled. They’d talked about this before, and it made perfect sense.

  But after? During the good times, do you ever question it?

  No. It would be like questioning why the sun goes down at night, or why my heart beats. It’s not something we do. It’s who we are.

  It was then that she felt it. The need in her awakened, a tingle in her nose and lump in her throat that she couldn’t explain if she tried, but what Little Lady said resonated within her so deeply, it shook her to her core.

  It’s not something we do. It’s who we are.

  Again, Meredith felt a burning in her. She wanted that. She swallowed.

  How do we get there, Little Lady?

  You’re already on your way.

  Just keep doing what I’m doing?

  You focus on obeying him. Do what he asks of you, today. Just today. You let tomorrow take care of itself. And trust him. Do you have any instructions for this evening?

  Well, I have a time I need to be off of here. Her heart thumped. She hadn’t checked the clock since she sat down. Her eyes flew to the time in a moment of panic. She exhaled. She still had time.

  You start there. You obey him in any way, as best you can. And you keep bringing yourself to him as you are. Don’t hide your thoughts or feelings. As difficult as it may be, and as tempting as it is to decide in your mind how he’ll react and hide from that, keep bringing yourself to him. All of you. And when he meets your needs—which is his own way of self-giving—you will grow. That is how you go from it being something you do to it being who you are.

  I can do that.

  Of course you can. You already are.

  Meredith smiled, thankful for the advice of her mentor-friend.

  Thank you, Little Lady. You two have any plans for the weekend?

  Well, Winston has an idea for a project he wants to do. I’m thinking it involves handmade cuffs… He may have left some YouTube video links up on the laptop.

  Ha! That sounds fun, though.

  Just a minute. I’ll be right back.

  Meredith waited for her friend to return, as she dwelt on what she’d said to her. The message popped back up.

  Hey. Master Winston says I have permission to tell you my first name. Please do not feel you need to reciprocate. My name is Annalise. And Winston’s real name is Winston.

  Meredith grinned. She felt honored her friend felt safe enough to share her name, and it felt nice to put a face and name together. She’d only once seen a picture of her friend, and she was lovely, thick blonde curls grazing her shoulders, soft brown eyes with long lashes behind delicate glasses, a pixie face and ready smile with a dimple. Winston stood over her, clean-shaven, ice blue eyes, and gray hair.

  How nice to know your name! Annalise is a lovely name. Do you call Winston by his name?

  I call him Sir, sometimes Daddy, and rarely by his first name.

  Just a minute, Annalise.

  She trotted to their bedroom. Paolo looked up when she entered the room. She felt suddenly nervous.

  “Um… Little Lady got permission to tell me her real name.”

  He blinked, and waited but she didn’t know how to proceed.

  “And? Are you going to tell me her name, or do I have to guess?”

  She giggled. “Annalise. And his real name is Winston.”

  Paolo’s eyes twinkled. “Otherwise known as Sir.”

  She nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “And you want to know if you can reciprocate.”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  Eyes still twinkling, he narrowed them. “And if I say no? How will you respond?”

  Her heart sank, but she plodded on. “I would obey you and not push it.”

  His face softened and he gave her a teasing look. “Good answer, baby. You may tell them your name. You’ve mentioned my name before, but now you may use it freely. But be very careful it’s only in the private messaging feature, and you’re not logged onto the forum.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling like a little schoolgirl, as she scurried back to the computer.

  I’m back! I was just speaking with… Paolo. Who has now given me permission to use his real name. I know I messed up once and we’ve been careful not to do that again, but he said I could. And also I could tell you my name.

  She felt suddenly nervous, as her heart pounded and her fingers flew over the keys.

  My name is Meredith.

  Oh, I love it! Paolo and Meredith. Your names seem to suit you.

  Thank you! So, Annalise, do you two have any more plans this weekend beside the potential of a really fun scene testing out your new toy?

  Yep. He wants to go to his favorite brewery at some point.

  What is it with men and their beer? You should have heard Paolo today talking to one of our friends. He was all over this Swedish beer that kind of sounded like his name.

  Winston does love a cold one. There’s a little microbrewery down the street that stocks specialty beers made by the Trappists.

  Oh! There’s one near us, too. It’s called Monastic Brewery.

  Yes! That’s it! How funny that the one thing we both have near us is a brewery lol! There are only two in the world! I know exactly where you live then. So beautiful there! We once vacationed in a little rental near the water.

  Meredith’s heart thudded. Little Lady knew exactly where she lived. It had been accidental, but would Paolo be upset that their privacy had been compromised? Would Winston?

  Shit!

  Meredith grimaced at the screen.

  Do you think Winston would be upset I know where you live now?

  He trusts you. So probably not, no. And it was completely accidental.

  Meredith breathed a sigh of relief.

  Thank goodness. She glanced at the clock. Still, Little Lady’s comment did nothing to assuage her fear of Paolo’s reaction. She only had a few minutes left, and figured it would be wise to log off now, before she lost track of the time and got in trouble. Hey, I’d better get going. Better to be safe than sorry, right? I’m so glad we were able to talk to one another!

  Oh, me too! I hope we can again soon. You have a good night, Meredith.

  Meredith said good night, then logged off the forum. She closed her laptop, heart pounding. So much to think on.

  Keep bringing yourself to him. All of you. And when he meets your needs—which is his own way of self-giving—you will grow. That is how you go from it being something you do to it being who you are.

  It sounded so easy, and yet so very difficult.

  Could she? Could she continue to dig deep down inside herself, into the core of her being, and bring herself to him time and time again? Despite the fact that she had the certain knowledge that he could hurt her, and that every time she offered herself to him she ran that risk? Despite the fact that she was only human, and would make mistakes, and she would fall? He would punish her. And they would keep on learning, keep on making mistakes, but keep on growing closer to one another?

  Was it worth it?

  She didn’t know. But she knew she wanted to. She wanted to so badly, she could taste it.

  Her phone vibrated.

  Log off and come to bed now.

  She glanced at the clock. It was still a few minutes before ten. Was he testing her? She smiled. Even though it was challenging being pushed the way he pushed her, she loved that he was paying attention, focused on her, and that he expected her immediate obedience.

  Her fingers trailed over the keys as she responded.

  Yes, sir. I’m coming now.

  The response buzzed.

  Good girl.

  She rose,
smiling, as she made her way to the bedroom to obey him. She stepped into the bathroom quickly to get ready for bed before she joined him in their bedroom. When she entered the room, he had his tablet up close to his face, frowning, and it was strangely tipped to the side.

  “Paolo, what on earth are you doing?” she asked, as she prepared herself for bed. It was always the same ritual. After she washed up in the bathroom, she would step into the bedroom and remove all her clothes. She would apply her lotion, run her brush through her hair, and scuttle under the covers next to him. Sometimes he’d hold her and they would talk about their day, but sometimes he could tell she was exhausted, or he was exhausted himself, and he’d simply tell her to go to sleep and tuck the blanket in over her. But his hands always traveled over her, touching every part of her, an intimate, sensual reminder that she was his.

  “This is supposed to be one of those optical illusion things,” he muttered, twisting his tablet and tipping his head the other way as he scowled at the picture. “But I can’t see a damn thing. If you keep staring at it, you end up seeing a sunrise over the Taj Mahal. All I see are dots and lines.”

  She couldn’t help it. It struck her as funny, the stern husband of hers screwing his face up like that. A giggle bubbled up before she could stop herself. Sometimes he was in a stern place before bed, and he really didn’t like to be laughed at, so she covered her mouth with her hand. But the harder she tried to be quiet, the more amused she became, until she couldn’t help it anymore, and her whole body shook with laughter.

  His eyes widened as he turned to look at her.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, which caused her to laugh even harder. His eyes twinkled as his tablet fell to his side and he rolled over toward her.

  “You think I’m funny?” he asked, his voice deepening, and she instinctively pulled away, edging closer to the edge of the bed, still giggling, as he prowled closer and closer.

  “You look…” she gasped, as he pinned her down, one hand over each of hers, overpowering her as he moved over her, “like…” she giggled, even though her belly was flipping in a sexy-scary way, “a confused little puppy or something!”

  His lips twitched, but his eyes narrowed on her. He dipped his head down and the brush of his whiskers on her neck tickled so much she squealed.

  “A confused little puppy?” he growled, his mouth and beard tickling her neck as she twisted and turned, trying to get away. “So you think my bark is worse than my bite?” His teeth sank into the ticklish area on her neck, not sharp but not gentle, and she yelped and squirmed, shrieking with laughter but protesting the whole time.

  “Nooooo, uh uh, I take it back, I take it all back, your bark is definitely, most definitely, not worse than your bite!”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, one hand releasing her and torturing her naked waist with a tickle. She screamed, but fighting was fruitless as he was so much stronger than she was. “You take it back do you, brat? No more making fun of the big, scary dom, now that I’ve got you here? Going to apologize now?”

  She was tempted to say no, but she couldn’t take the tickling anymore, and he would keep going for that sensitive spot just above her collarbone that made her squirm.

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

  “I’m sorry what?”

  “Um. Sir? Paolo?”

  He looked down at her neck, eyes still twinkling, but his voice losing the edge and softening. “So soft,” he murmured. “So vulnerable, that area right there. All I have to do is this…” he leaned down and breathed, his hot breath tickling her, making her skin prickle and the nerves stand on end, “and I’ve got you under my control.”

  She sobered. “Yes,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure what was going on with him, but he seemed more serious now as he held her, wrists pinned above her head again as his eyes were focused on her neck.

  “I’d like to put a collar around that neck,” he murmured, all serious now, meditative, “A reminder, in that vibrant place where your lifeblood pulses, that you belong to me. A reminder of your place. And when your pulse beats against it, you’ll know you are mine.”

  She swallowed. The last time she’d brought up a collar, he had said he was against it. She wanted one, because she liked the idea of a physical reminder that she belonged to him, a reminder of not just her commitment to him but her obedience as well. Had he changed his mind? There was something magical about the moment, and she feared that if she spoke too fast or said the wrong thing, the spell would be broken.

  “I’d like that,” she whispered.

  He seemed to come out of the trance. He blinked, and his eyes met hers. He smiled slowly, releasing his grip on her wrists and turning back over to his side.

  “I know you would,” he said. “But we’re not talking any more of this tonight. You go to sleep and I’m going to find the sunset over the Taj Mahal.”

  She smiled, somehow not disappointed but excited. Something had changed. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know what, but she felt at peace with the reminder that she belonged to him. Just his words alone, and the knowledge that he was thinking it over, were enough for now.

  When your pulse beats against it, you’ll know you are mine.

  When? How?

  Just keep doing what you’re doing.

  ***

  He waited until her breathing was slow and steady next to him before he got out of bed. She always crashed easily on the nights she’d had a drink. The night before, he’d allowed her to have three. He loved the flush in her cheeks, and how relaxed she became around their guests. He was tired, too, but not ready for sleep yet. He had a job to do. He never allowed her to chat online without looking the conversation over when she was done. He knew that, at first, this was hard for her, but now it had become so routine he didn’t even think twice. It seemed she’d accepted it as normal as well. If he was her dom, and he needed to know what was going on with her at all times, it only made sense to him that he would make sure he knew about the conversations she had. And the conversations she had with Annalise, or the posts she’d make online, were a direct line to what she felt about their dynamic, about her submission to him, and there were times that things came out in conversation with Annalise that Meredith may have struggled with verbalizing to him. And he needed to know. He couldn’t lead her if he didn’t know.

  One time he’d read their conversation and she’d indicated in the chat with Annalise that she had stopped discussing collars with Paolo because of the negative response he’d had when she first brought it up. Annalise had encouraged her to keep quiet about it for a while and said something that resonated with Paolo.

  “It might take him a while to get used to the idea. He may never. Often, the dom still has hang-ups about what society might think about his role, and has difficulty reconciling that with his own actions. Many still think it’s not acceptable for a man to spank his wife. Many would object to his telling you what to do. And we all know this. It’s one reason why we keep what we do private from those who wouldn’t understand. But the whole idea of ownership is one that is even more difficult to swallow. Consensual discipline is one thing. Erotic or kinky bedroom things is another. But taking it to the step of a physical manifestation of your obedience to him, that could still rankle because maybe he wants you to have your autonomy. Just give him space. Master Winston loves my collar. He tugs it before I go to bed at night and twists it when we make love. It reminds me I belong to him, and it reminds him that he is devoted to me. But we’ve been doing this for a very long time now.”

  Paolo had glanced over the conversation and out of curiosity pulled a few websites up that had different collars. The first time he’d done that, he’d become infuriated. The pictures on the screen were degrading, humiliating, and he couldn’t stand the thought of doing anything like that to Meredith. He’d closed the laptop angrily and dismissed any thought of collars again. But then tonight, when he’d looked down at her neck—at her collarbone—it had struck him how much he’d l
ike to see something there that reminded her that she was his, the way glancing at the slim wedding band around her finger reminded them both of her commitment to him.

  He’d read somewhere years ago that, at least in Western culture, people had once believed that a vein connected the ring finger to the heart, a direct line, and it was dubbed “the vein of love”. Hence, the tradition of putting a wedding ring on that finger was born, indicating that one was wedded in love. Though science had clarified this misconception, the tradition held fast, and Paolo liked the idea of the physical symbol of love. In fact, the month before, Meredith had read about another submissive on the forum who was careless with her wedding band and had lost it. Meredith had objected to the fact that her dominant punished her for it, and asked Paolo’s opinion.

  Paolo had thought it over. “If you were careless with it? Not a real accident that couldn’t be helped, but careless? Something important like that? Yes, that would be an issue for me. I would not be happy. I can’t say if I’d punish you, because I’d have to weigh all the factors in that circumstance, but I could see why someone might.”

  His response had surprised her, and it was later that evening she’d had the discussion with Annalise about collars. She hadn’t mentioned it to him, but he knew she was only keeping the discussion from him because he’d asked her not to bring it up again. And they both knew he’d read her conversation with Annalise later that evening.

  Yes, he could warm up to the idea. But he would have to choose it. And he would want some time to pass before he did. They were still new, and he wanted them to have some experience before they continued with such a step.

  Still, he couldn’t imagine them going back. No, not now. He couldn’t imagine anything but what they had now, though there were times when he wished he didn’t have the weight of responsibility on him. Times like now, when he was tired, and just wanted to go to bed, and he didn’t want to have to filter through the conversation she’d had with Annalise, he wished he could shrug off the responsibility and return to the way things were. But it was a fleeting thought, a temptation even, one that he didn’t take seriously but batted away like one would a pesky fly. It wasn’t a real temptation. He couldn’t do that to her. And would it even feel right to him?