Chapter Fifteen
Lacey felt Greg get back into bed and winced at the chill of his body, although she knew from experience that he would soon warm up. He was naked and had obviously been up for a while. She squinted at the clock and saw she had a couple of hours to sleep before she had to get up for work. She was tempted to roll over and encourage Greg to do a little early morning horizontal dance, but she was tender and still quite replete after the previous night’s multiple orgasms. She shut her eyes and tried to keep her breathing slow and steady, but he knew she was awake. He always knew. His mouth blew warm breath over her temple as he spoke.
“I’ve laid a few things out for you in the bathroom, honey. Off you go. You have five minutes.”
Lacey squirmed to sit up and shoved her hair back. He smiled up at her and reached to stroke first one breast and then the other. Her nipples instantly responded.
“What? It’s just after five, Greg! I’m tired! Let me sleep a little longer, okay?” She smiled back at him winningly, and made to snuggle down again.
“Bathroom, Lacey. Five minutes and counting.”
She huffed and struggled off the mattress to make her way there. She froze in the doorway as she took in the four items on the vanity, each with their own handwritten number attached. He had used her favorite floral sticky notes to indicate the number of strikes. Well, shit. She used the toilet while her eyes roamed over them. There was a rubber spatula, the one with the wide, flat surface. Beside it was her leather fly swatter, the little holes like tiny eyes and seeming to wink at her with malice. A wooden, twelve-inch ruler and a long wooden spoon completed the selection. Greg had meant it when he referenced reparation, and Lacey knew she had racked up a few during the time he had stayed with her after the miscarriage. It didn’t mean she had to accept them though.
She reflected briefly on her thoughts and epiphanies over the past couple of months. She wanted her old relationship back with Greg for certain. She also expected him to step up to the plate and deal with adversity by including her and letting her help him if he couldn’t manage it, valuing her input. There were things to discuss and communicate over the next while, and Lacey had no doubt that they would do so. She picked up the fly swatter, even though the thirty swats she would receive seemed a trifle exorbitant. But she also had to sit at her desk all day today and she knew from experience that the other implements, while coded with only ten to twenty swats, would leave her far more tender. At the last minute, she quickly brushed her teeth and then washed her face and ran the cloth between her legs, the soft nap cooling her swollen labia.
Greg was looking somewhat dark by the time she returned to the bedroom. “You’ve earned an additional ten for making me wait, Lacey.”
Lacey opened her mouth to protest but closed it on the first syllable. She offered him the fly swatter, and he took it gently from her grasp. There were two pillows piled in the middle of the bed and she wordlessly lay over them, her hips and ass elevated and vulnerable.
“Spread your legs, Lacey, you know the drill.”
She instantly complied, and the soft cotton of the thread count rubbed suggestively against the top of her cleft. She twitched and Greg caught the movement.
“If you get yourself off, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t, honey.”
Lacey’s sex flooded, and she resigned herself to a sore bottom and a day of aching need. It would make tonight all the more memorable, and Greg would suffer, too, but she found she wanted it now, like a little kid who needed immediate gratification. The drift of the leather swatter over the curve of her buttocks reminded her of what was to come. Greg warmed her up with the first ten, making them easy to count and easier to avoid flinching away and rubbing against the pillows. The next ten stung and heated her skin and prickled into deeper arousal and Lacey began to drift on sensation, nearly forgetting to count them out. Greg laid the next several blows in no discernible pattern from the top of her ass to the middle of her thighs, and the slap echoed in her ears as she ground herself back into the pillows after arching into each swat. She suddenly climaxed and panted into the sheet, nearly putting her fingernails through the fabric as she clutched it. Greg was going to make good on his threat, but it had been so worth it. She had missed this. Missed the fine line between pain and extreme pleasure at the hands of her man. Greg gave her a minute to enjoy the aftermath and then spoke, his voice deep and rasping. They had often played fantasy games, but this was just Greg and Lacey.
“Get over onto your back. You have lost considerable self-control, Lacey. I’m not pleased.”
Lacey rolled over immediately. Greg loomed over her, his face a mask of desire, his cock pulsing and wet. He put his knees on either side of her shoulders then reached down to shove his fingers through her hair, dragging her face up and shoving his erection against her mouth. Lacey opened wide, and he pushed inside, hard, to the back of her throat. She gasped against the invasion, and he stilled above her. When she relaxed, he began to fuck her mouth, slipping and sliding, rubbing against her palate. Her saliva pooled and ran from the corner of her lips and down her chin and the rub of his erection against her mouth made little sucking sounds. Her jaw began to ache, and Greg worked harder and faster and then pulled out to come over her face and chest, pulling strongly at himself to get the last drop to mark her. He leaned back and looked at her with deep satisfaction, and Lacey let her tongue slip out to gather a taste of his ejaculate. She was rewarded with another possessive stare and a twitch of his cock. She lay there, a sticky mess, and felt quite replete until she realized Greg had picked up that damn fly swatter again. He ran it over her cum-dappled breasts and gave her a smile that took her breath. It hitched and came out on a little sob of passion that choked off when he tapped her nipples.
Lacey sucked her stomach in, trying to avoid the sting, but Greg easily followed, and within moments, her breasts were throbbing and their tips burning with exquisite fire.
“Knees bent, feet flat on the bed, drop them apart. Now.”
Lacey shook with lust as she obeyed his commands. Greg laid the leather flat against her pussy.
“Wider.”
She let her legs drop apart as far as she could, and he gave a quick snap of his wrist, the sudden contact of the swatter against her sopping folds making her gasp. She lost track of the quick little hits that Greg rained down on her, all the while struggling to keep her legs spread wide to give him access. It stung and burned, and she writhed beneath it until Greg laid a heavy swat directly on her clit and shoved what had to be two fingers up inside of her right afterward. Lacey flew apart on a tide of agonizing pleasure, and Greg blanketed her with his body, murmuring into her hair until she settled and came back to herself.
After a time, he moved to get up, and their skin clung together with the glue of Greg’s passion. They both laughed, and he lifted her into his arms effortlessly and took her with him into the bathroom. They shared a shower in the old claw-foot tub, and Lacey giggled some more as Greg took swipes at the enveloping curtain that impeded his efforts to wash her clean, to take care of her. Lacey suspected his biggest issue was that there was no wall to shove her up against so that he could fuck her from behind while the water streamed down over them both. That was okay at this moment. She didn’t think she could take one more orgasm after that last one. Her clit felt raw and bruised, and Greg wouldn’t take his own pleasure without giving the same to her.
They finally emerged from the tub, and if Lacey still had conditioner in her hair, it wasn’t because of a lack of effort on Greg’s part to rinse it out. Her fingertips were wrinkled like a prune, and she felt shiny and new. Greg dried her from her chin to her toes after wrapping her hair up in a hand towel. He knelt before her and kissed different places on her body after he dried them, and sometimes before, and Lacey pushed him away when he lingered at her pussy.
“Don’t, Greg,” she said. “I’m sore.”
He immediately backed off and gently spread her labia. “Oh, honey. Pass me the o
intment.” Lacey reached to where the little tube sat on the sink by the soap dish and picked it up to give it to him. He gently coated her clit and opening before wiping his hands on the towel. Lacey winced. More laundry. Greg was back. Well, she could live with his lack of domesticity.
“What?”
“Nothing, Greg. Really.” Lacey remembered her resolution to communicate, and continued with the truth. “It’s just that now I have to wash that towel before it stains.”
Greg got to his feet and looked down at her. “About that stuff, Lacey. I wasn’t much help while we were living together. Sorry. I’ve learned to cook a few things and pick up after myself and keep the house clean. I guess I hadn’t realized how much you did for me. There’s no guessing about it. I didn’t realize.”
Her heart swelled. She had never complained and really didn’t think it was a big deal even now. She had her tasks, and he had his, but the fact that Greg was making the additional effort further supported her decision to reestablish their relationship.
“I did it for us, Greg. But can you make the coffee today? I really need a cup.”
Greg looked ridiculously pleased and dropped a kiss on her head before wheeling around to head out for the kitchen. He had always wanted to do things for her, in fact do everything for her, and Lacey knew she had resisted just to stay a little individuated. Now she was content for him to meet her needs in almost any way that he wanted to. Last night had been a perfect example, and it would never again just be about the sexual part of their relationship. She would have expectations of Greg and never again be so compliant. Submissive yes, but there was a difference, one she had come to understand through therapy and would teach him if necessary.
She pulled the towel from her hair and let the damp strands fall free around her shoulders to air-dry before grabbing the moisturizer from the shelf above the toilet. She was working her way down her other calf when Greg came back in. He filled his palms with the scented stuff and replaced her hands with his. Lacey stood passively under his ministrations and nearly groaned with gratification when he rubbed the nape of her neck and her spine after carefully lifting her hair and draping it over one shoulder. He coated every inch of her skin before kissing her sweetly on the mouth.
“Coffee will be ready, honey. Come and have breakfast.”
She followed him out to the kitchen and smiled to see the cereal box in front of her place setting and the jug of milk to its right. The coffee was strong but good, and Lacey poured Greg a bowl of cereal before she filled her own, and then passed him the milk. They crunched together in amiable silence before Greg broke it.
“Will you move back home with me, Lacey?” he asked.
She set her mug down and nodded. “I have to give a month’s notice, but it won’t be a problem. There isn’t too much I’ll want to bring with me anyhow, and I’m actually thinking that Elizabeth might want this place.”
From the confused look on his face, it was clear that Greg didn’t remember who Elizabeth was, so Lacey told him it was the woman from her support group.
“She was planning a trial separation in any event, Greg, and after last night, it’s probably a good idea that she has a safe, anonymous place to live. We were trying to think of somewhere for her last night before all the excitement happened. You could say it’s kind of destined.”
“I don’t want you involved with her, Lacey.”
Lacey felt her face stiffen and set her mouth. He was doing it again, giving those incredibly arrogant orders about the people she chose to call friends or hang out with. It sorely tested her new resolve.
“I need you to hold off on connecting with this Elizabeth until things sort themselves out with her husband, Lacey. He could be a big problem, and not just for his wife. I won’t have you in danger if I can help it.”
She thought it through before responding. “But she needs support now.” Even to her ears it sounded plaintive.
“You met her through a support group, Lacey. She will have family and friends besides, and her therapist. You will wait, honey.”
Lacey ground her teeth and managed a terse nod. She shouldn’t hate that he made sense and wouldn’t let her make an emotional decision that might turn out badly for her. When he reached out and took her hand, she wanted to pull away but made herself look at him instead. He looked solemn and not at all smug or satisfied with her acquiescence. Instead there was a hint of relief in his eyes, and all her harsh feelings melted away. She reminded herself of her recent teachings and new resolve. Life certainly wasn’t going to be boring. She finished her coffee and stood, relishing the way Greg looked at her, his eyes darkening with desire. She gave her tail an extra twitch as she entered her bedroom and smiled when she heard him quietly curse. Sauce for the gander and all.
Chapter Sixteen
Lacey ran the backs of her hands over her buttocks to smooth the material of her dress. It had looked different somehow in the store when she bought it last month. It had been a find for her petite frame and fit seductively. Now it seemed to hug her curves with near indecency. Her breasts looked ready to swell right over the scoop-necked bodice, and her belly curved provocatively, her navel looking very pronounced right through the fabric. The deep-blue color suited her, and the sapphires that sparkled at her ears were reflected in the material, just as the larger stone in its platinum setting on her left hand did. She forgot about the dress for a moment and smiled to herself. Greg had agonized over that ring, she knew. It had languished in his sock drawer for weeks before he had asked her to marry him. Her collar also lay in there, but it appeared Greg had no need to go back to that time, had no need for that kind of symbolism, and the care with which he chose the sapphire engagement ring transcended it. Those were the tiny, indecisive Greg moments that endeared him to her, made him human and not all-powerful and reminded her that she had a place, an important role in this relationship. It was a beautiful ring, and she hadn’t let on that she had found it while putting his laundry away. She couldn’t have chosen a nicer one if she had tried.
She had moved home, and wasn’t that a wonderful word, the weekend after their reconciliation, and they hadn’t been apart a night since. Edith had wanted to let her out of her lease because she was back with Greg, but Lacey was nothing if not honorable in all of her business dealings. She had almost told Dr. Massey about the apartment’s availability in her next session, but then reconsidered. Elizabeth really wouldn’t be safe there if Stephen didn’t get well and decided to look for her, and the other woman might not be able to keep her distance from him. Lacey well understood how the heart could mislead a person before their head made them pay attention. And then there was Edith, who was too elderly and frail to cope with any kind of mischief. Lacey was saved from making a decision when she learned that Elizabeth had decided to move away and live with her sister in another state. Greg’s relief was almost palpable when she told him.
He took such good care of her, as she did of him, although his culinary attempts continued to fail miserably and she took pity on him more often than not. There was always pizza delivery, or Italian, or Thai. Besides, she liked to cook and he almost always made it home for her meals, calling to let her know if he found he couldn’t do so. He helped with the housework, too, or at least tried hard not to make additional work for her. Lacey excused him from most of it, having become tired of chipped dishes and once finding that he washed her delicate clothes in hot water with his dark ones. Their white towels and sheets became a disgrace when Greg did laundry, so he just insisted on helping her fold them. And then they would make the bed and that led to other things.
For her part, Lacey listened to Greg and weighed the conversations where he became the alpha male, managing not to react until she did so, thinking his edicts through carefully. It was rare that she would contravene his wishes as a result, unless she was feeling particularly contrary, and then he would correct her. Lacey sometimes was contrary on purpose, because she liked the corrections and how they sometimes led to
sexual game playing, but she was never deliberately disobedient when it came to her safety or well-being. She would never give Greg any real cause for concern if she could help it.
In the end, Lacey had left her furniture so that Edith could rent the place out furnished, and her lease was waived. She promised the landlady she would keep in touch and had kept that promise, stopping by whenever she could, sometimes with Greg who would sit patiently with a cup of tea in his big hand. She had introduced Edith to Gladys, and the two of them had hit it off like age-old friends. Lacey couldn’t make herself spend time with them when they were together, however. They seemed to fixate on her and mother her to death. She already had Greg to deal with in that area. Her own mother and father remained fairly estranged, although would chat from time to time if Lacey made the phone call.
Lacey fussed with her hair and decided to put it up. They were going to the club after a long hiatus, and she sincerely hoped that Greg would do a scene with her. They had sex every day, making up for lost time she supposed, and Greg was just as dominant as ever, but the exhibitionist in her wouldn’t object to a little more. The last time she’d been on the cross seemed forever ago, and she was also anxious to reconnect with more of the members. The club seemed to have lost a few and gained a few, and Lacey supposed that was a natural process, considering her own life over the past year.
Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 13