Remind Me, Master [The Martinis and Chocolate Book Club 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Lara Valentine

  “Too tight or just right?”

  “Just right, Master.” Conor always saw to her safety and well-being. He was a careful and considerate Dominant. She’d seen some really stupid Doms at parties on occasion doing some asinine and dangerous things. She was grateful for her husband’s level-headed control.

  “What is your safeword, Lisa?” His hand was stroking her spine, sending little shocks of pleasure all over her flesh and straight to her cunt. It had been so long since he’d touched her with passion and tenderness, and she had to concentrate to answer.

  “Batman.”

  “What if you need me to slow down or catch your breath?”

  “Robin.”

  She felt him chuckle close to her ear. “I remember when you chose those safewords. We definitely don’t use them in everyday conversation. You are one of a kind, my wife.”

  He wasn’t in a hurry to punish her. Instead, he ran his hands all over her body, caressing every inch of exposed flesh, but never touching her weeping pussy. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and begging too soon. He loved it when she pleaded, but she wanted to show some backbone.

  His fingers trailed over her ribs, tickling her, before traveling down to her ass cheeks. He circled her back hole, but only teased it, leaving her wanting more.

  “We’ll have to stretch you back here. It might be just like the first time again.”

  She would have come off the bench at the first touch of his tongue, but she was firmly restrained. He ran it around her tight rosette, then licked his way to her dripping pussy. She moaned and pulled at the restraints as he tongue fucked her hole, making honey roll down her thighs and her cunt clench with need. She wanted her Dominant inside of her.

  “Please, Master, I need you.” Her voice sounded breathless and strained to her own ears.

  “Hush, pet. We have all night. Your opinions don’t matter in this room. You serve me here. Do you need to use your safeword?”

  “No, Master.” She was panting and twisting against the restraints. She’d forgotten the patience needed with her Master when he was in this mood. He might keep her from coming for hours if it pleased him.

  He smacked her bottom, sending heat straight to her clit. It felt wonderful and she wriggled to entice him to do it again.

  “Don’t pull against the cuffs. You’ll bruise your skin.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, holding her still. “It’s such delicate skin. I don’t want my property marred.”

  His tongue went back to work its magic, tracing the folds of her pussy and lightly feathering over her clit. He brought her to the edge of orgasm, then backed off several times. She was gulping in air and trembling when he finally gave her some respite. He walked around to her head and stroked her hair.

  “I’m going to give you a choice tonight. Crop, belt, or paddle?”

  “Belt,” she quickly answered. It was her favorite of the three. Her absolute favorite was the flogger, but that wasn’t a choice at the moment. She felt him move away for a moment then he was back rubbing her bottom cheeks, bringing the blood to the surface and warming them up.

  She took a deep breath, and her lungs were filled with his warm, masculine scent, the smell of leather, and the musk of her own arousal. It was a comforting aroma, bringing back memories of many passionate and pleasurable playtimes just like this one. She relaxed against the leather just as Conor’s palm landed on her right ass cheek. She sighed in bliss, finally getting what she’d needed and craved. He peppered her bottom with blows until her ass was nicely warm, verging on hot, and ready for the belt.

  He paused, and she anticipated the first strike from the belt. When it came, it drew a line of fire across the globes of her ass and made her suck in her breath. She barely had time to process the first blow when the second came down. It sent a wave of heat to her cunt, and she groaned in response, moving closer to the edge of release. If he gave her permission, she was sure she could come from the punishment alone.

  She let her mind separate from her body as each strike from the leather heated her sore flesh. When it came to an end, her ass was white hot and she was begging to be allowed to come. His hand slipped between her legs, his fingers on her clit.

  “Come, pet.”

  Her world exploded, the pleasure ripping through her like the tide. She screamed and then started her descent back to earth. No orgasm she gave herself ever measured up to where Conor could take her.

  His cock nudged between her legs, pushing inside her, stretching her ignored muscles. When he was in to the hilt, he leaned over nuzzling her ear.

  “Are we good, pet?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good girl. In the position you’re in, all you can do is take whatever I give you. Don’t try and control this. You may come as you wish.”

  She fought her instincts to try and participate, to clench her cunt and push back with each thrust. Instead, she turned her body over to him, letting him do as he pleased. His pleasure was her pleasure.

  He rode her slow at first, pressing a finger, slippery with her own juices, into her back hole. She mewled with pleasure as he finger-fucked her while thrusting in her pussy, over and over, at the perfect angle that sent her to heaven. After twenty years together, Conor knew her body like he knew his own. He knew what made her body tremble, shiver, and shatter.

  Every slide of his cock over her sweet spot sent her closer to release until she couldn’t hold back any longer. Red and white spots of light danced in front of her eyes while waves of pleasure rippled through her veins. His hands tightened on her hips, and then he thrust in hard one last time. She could feel his cock swelling inside of her, his hot seed marking her.

  She slumped in the restraints, tired, sore, but happy. They’d reconnected in their way, and the relief she felt was overwhelming. If she were honest, there was a small part of her that wondered whether this was gone with Conor. She’d feared they would never get this intimacy back, this trust which centered her life.

  She didn’t even realize she was crying until he’d released her from the restraints, wrapped her in a blanket, and carried her to a small leather love seat at the edge of the room. He held her, crooning soft words of love and praise, rocking her like a child until her sobs ebbed. He stroked her hair and wiped her tears away, pressing kisses to her forehead.

  “Blondie, baby, talk to me. Talk to me, blondie.” His voice was soft and cajoling, bringing her back to the present.

  She scrubbed at her face. She wasn’t a pretty crier, and she probably looked like Porky Pig right about now, with her swollen red eyes and nose.

  “I’m okay. Really. I was just…overcome for a minute.”

  His thumb tenderly traced her lips. “You haven’t cried after a scene in a long time. I think you need some special care tonight.”

  She was too wrung out to question him. She loved their aftercare time together, and trusted him to take the utmost care of her. He lifted her into his arms and carried her across the house, through their bedroom, and into their master bath. He set her on the vanity while he ran a hot bath in the jetted tub. When it was full, he helped her lower into the steamy water. She let out a sigh as the jets massaged her sore bits and pieces.

  He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  She let her head drop on the edge of the tub, letting her cares drift away. She heard him come back, his hand on her shoulder.

  “Drink some water, honey.” He had a large glass of ice water, and she drank it down in a couple of gulps, much to his delight. He had a big grin on his face when she handed him the empty glass.

  “Good girl.” He pulled a golden box from behind his back. “How about a little chocolate for my good girl? I think you more than deserve it.”

  She snatched a dark chocolate from the box and popped it in her mouth with a giggle. “I deserve it no matter what.”

  The chocolate melted on her tongue, the sugar reviving her. She bit into a truffle and motioned for Conor
to join her in the tub, making room for him behind her. To her surprise, he got in opposite her so they were eye to eye.

  “I want you to tell me why you were overcome. You normally only cry after a long, drawn-out scene where I push your boundaries. I didn’t go near a boundary tonight. The scene was damn near vanilla.”

  She stretched out, wrapping her legs around his lean waist and reclining against the jets. “Only you could think restraining your wife to a spanking bench, whipping her with a belt, then fucking her into oblivion is vanilla. To most people that’s kinky as all hell.”

  “I didn’t even use a toy,” Conor protested. “Lots of people like to be tied up and spanked.”

  “I was just giving you a hard time.” She wasn’t sure how to explain her feelings without it sounding like she was blaming him. Honesty between them was so deeply ingrained, however, she couldn’t keep this from him. It wasn’t healthy for a D/s relationship and it wasn’t healthy for a marriage.

  “I was scared.”

  Conor sat up, sloshing water out of the tub onto the tile. “Of me?”

  She shook her head. “Not of you. Of never feeling that again. Never being that close to you. Never feeling this with you. I was scared, okay?” Her throat started to close up and tears started to well in her eyes again. “That’s why I did something so stupid and dramatic like throw your clothes on the porch. I was desperate, Conor. I was terrified what we had was gone.”

  Her voice cracked. “What if it was gone? What if you didn’t love me anymore?”

  * * * *

  Conor pulled Lisa into his arms, soothing both her and himself. She’d sounded heartbroken, on the verge of another crying jag. He felt tears prick at the back of his own eyes at the thought of what he’d put his wife through these last months. He wanted to take all her pain away and make everything okay.

  “This will never go away, blondie. You’re stuck with me.” He smoothed her hair off of her damp face and tipped her chin up so he could look into her beautiful blue eyes. “We only lost track of each other for a while. I swear, no matter what I have to do, I will fix this.”

  A few silvery tears fell down her cheeks, twisting his heart. “You can’t fix it all by yourself. We have to find a new way, together. What we had before isn’t going to work anymore. Not for me.”

  “This hasn’t changed. The way we feel in a scene together. And afterward.” He leaned forward and licked at a salty tear trail. “I love you, blondie. Don’t give up on me.”

  She tugged him closer, her head on his chest. “Never. I love you, too.” Her voice was strong and fierce. “It’s outside the playtimes we need to worry about. I’ve changed, Conor. You have to love me as I am now. Not like I was.”

  “I’ll always love you. I’m pretty sure I took some vows to that effect. Something about for better or worse. I guess things got bad. I want to make them better. Tonight I reminded you about what we had before. Tomorrow we’ll start making new memories. Nothing stays the same.”

  She looked him straight in the eyes, her expression serious. “I’m glad you’re home. I’m glad you didn’t walk out and never come back.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, blondie. I’m in this marriage for life.”

  Chapter Four

  Lisa smoothed her black dress nervously, then sniffed her armpits. It was the night of her sculpture showing, and she was hiding out in the ladies’ room of a hip art gallery in south Tampa. Her hands were shaking as she applied her lip gloss and stood back looking at herself critically. She laughed and made a face. Not bad for an old broad pushing forty. At least she could still get Conor’s motor running.

  The door swung open, and Brianne and Tori entered the bathroom, knowing looks on their faces. Brianne shook her finger with a smile.

  “Hiding in here, aren’t you? You can’t stay in the ladies’ room all night. People will think you ate a burrito for dinner or something.”

  Tori dug in her purse for her lipstick. “Now that’s embarrassing. Much more embarrassing than if someone doesn’t like your art.”

  “Easy for you to say. It’s my sculptures out there. People are looking at them, commenting on them. What if they think they’re hideous? What if I don’t have any talent and I’m all pathetic?”

  Tori dropped her lipstick back into her handbag. “You could never be pathetic. You’re fabulous. And you have talent. I love your sculptures. Ian and I have one displayed prominently in our home.”

  Brianne checked her teeth for lipstick smudges. “Ours, too. If you’re going to do this, hon, you’re going to need to toughen up. There will always be someone who doesn’t like what you do. As long as there is someone who does, that’s all that’s important.”

  Lisa groaned. “After the last year, you’d think I’d be plenty tough.”

  “How are things with Conor?” Tori asked. “Better? Worse?”

  “Much better.” A million times better. “The last few weeks have been great. He’s been loving, attentive. He’s made a point to be home in the evenings and not work too much on the weekends. He’s really shown me that his family comes first.”

  Privately, she hoped it would last. It was easy to do something for a few days or weeks when motivated. But she wasn’t sure Conor had really changed, deep down. She hoped it wasn’t all for show.

  Brianne turned away from the mirror. “How’s the new dynamic between you? Are you getting used to being equals outside the bedroom?”

  That was harder to answer. “We’re learning. Conor wanted us to plan a vacation to get away from things. Sort of a new beginning kind of thing. Out of habit, he chose a place and had Naomi make reservations, informing me of when and where we were going. I let him know quick that it wasn’t going to fly. He should have asked my opinion first. He was frustrated but understood. This is really new to both of us.”

  “So where are you going for vacation?” Tori asked.

  Lisa grinned. “We’re taking the kids to Disney over the New Year’s holiday. Conor had planned the Keys, but we haven’t taken the kids to Disney in a long time. I thought it was important they get to voice their opinion, too.”

  Brianne laughed. “That’s a lot of democracy.”

  “The kids don’t get a vote, they get an opinion. I get a vote, though, and that’s a new thing.”

  Tori grinned. “I’m glad it’s not the weekend of my wedding. I’d never forgive you.”

  “No way. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Lisa waggled her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t miss the bachelorette party either. We have plans. Big plans.”

  Tori headed for the door. “It better not be anything that will get me in trouble with the Devil Dom. He seems to have an unlimited repertoire of diabolical punishments.”

  Lisa waved her off. “And you love every one of them. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

  They headed out of the restroom and onto the main show floor. Lisa immediately tensed up again. She really wanted people to like what she’d done, but mostly she wanted Conor to be proud of her. This was the first time he was really seeing what she’d done since she first started sculpting a few years ago.

  The men were laughing and talking when they walked up. Conor put his arm around her. “I was getting worried. Where have you girls been?”

  Lisa gave him an exasperated smile. “We’re women, not girls, and we’ve been all over. Yes, including the ladies’ room, before you make a smart remark. Did you think we’d get lost in this big building?”

  Conor looked shocked then burst into laughter. “Yes, ma’am. Consider me suitably chastened. I didn’t think you’d get lost, but I thought you might be thirsty. I ordered you a drink.”

  He motioned to the waiter heading their way with a tray of drinks. She let out a breath, relieved he’d taken her rebuttal of his wording so well. They were going to be okay. She was sure of it.

  “Lisa! What a triumphant night! You’re the star of the show!” Jeb Tayler, the handsome gallery owner, surprised her with a big hug. “Have you seen your
pieces? There’s a sold marker on every one, you sexy doll!”

  Jeb Tayler was flamboyant, but she had it on good authority he was arrow straight. His dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his muscular frame dressed in black slacks and a black shirt, a gold earring in his left earlobe. He looked like an art patron, if such a stereotype existed.

  “Are you sure? All of them?” She’d brought in six pieces of abstract sculpture for the show. She’d simply been hoping for good feedback. The thought of actually selling anything had never really crossed her mind.

  “So modest. Yes, every one of them. Why are you hiding over here when your work is over there? The buyers want to talk to you, doll. When people purchase art, they want it to be personal. They want the story behind the art so they can tell it to all their friends.”

  She stole a glance at Conor, his expression guarded. He didn’t like men touching her, even if it was only a hug. He also didn’t like other men using endearments. She would need to explain to him later Jeb didn’t mean anything by it. He called everyone “honey” or “doll.”

  She placed her hand on Conor’s arm. “This is Jeb Tayler, honey. He owns the gallery. Jeb, this is my husband, Conor.”

  They shook hands, although Jeb seemed the happier of the two. “It’s so nice to meet you, Conor.” He tucked his arm around her shoulders. “You’re a lucky man to be married to a woman who is not only gorgeous and sexy, but talented as well. How does it feel to be her husband?”

  “It feels just fine.” Conor’s eyes narrowed and Lisa sucked in a breath. She needed to stop the posturing now. Conor’s body was tense, his voice low and edgy. She gently extricated herself from Jeb’s arm and moved closer to her husband, placing her hand on his back and rubbing it in a calming motion.

  Jeb had already moved on. “Come with me so you can meet the buyers. They have lots of rich friends who might want to buy something. It’s all about connections in this business, doll!”