“Why did you stay?” My voice was very soft. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to hear his reply. His answer would matter. The wrong words would scrape at my heart, and today, my heart was already raw with hurt.
“I loved her.” The words were simple. “Until, one day, I didn’t. Whatever we had, it was always flawed. One day, I woke up and I realized that my love had run its course. We hadn’t built new memories to replace the old ones. All I had was a ghost of a relationship, one gutted from the inside with a countless tiny betrayals.”
He had told me he wasn’t looking for a submissive. But I had to ask once more; I needed reassurance. Because when I fell in love, I did it fully and completely, and I would hold nothing back. That was why Nick had mattered. I had loved him so much, that in the end, I’d cared for him more than I’d cared for myself. He had abused my trust, and the lesson I’d learned from that time was that I wasn’t allowed to fall in love.
So, I asked. “Are you looking for a 24/7 submissive?”
He countered with a question of his own; perhaps I should have known he would. Patrick was both smart and perceptive, and at some point, we would have to get back to the reason I’d run. “What did he do to you, Lisa?”
“No.” My voice was strong. “My questions first, please.”
He sighed, but he reached across my body and entwined my fingers in his. “No.” He paused. “I have no desire for that. In fact, it’s pretty much a turn-off.” Another pause. “It was the sexiest thing when you sent me a drink at that lounge. It was hot as hell that you asked me to spank you. I don’t want to date an empty vessel, someone who needs me to tell her what to do every single minute of the day.”
“Okay,” I said softly. I took a deep breath. In the moment, I believed everything he said. But there was a tiny bit of me that remembered Nick. Remembered how the dominance and the submission had only been about sex at the start. Until the seduction of having someone obey you at all times got too much to resist.
Stop, I told myself. Patrick wasn’t Nick. If I was to ever get past that travesty of a relationship, heal the scars left so many years ago, I needed to trust Patrick.
“Now, your turn.” His voice was firm.
It was my turn to sigh. I stared upward at the ceiling, trying to form the words that would explain, but not scare him away. At least this time, I didn’t have to deal with the distraction of his mouth on my pussy as I tried to explain Nick.
“Nick and I were drifting towards 24/7,” I said. “I didn’t want that. But I didn’t know how to advocate for myself, and so I let him set the pace.”
“You were what, twenty-three? How old was he?”
“Thirty seven, thirty eight, something like that?” My voice was lost in thought and I almost missed his hiss of disapproval.
“What?” I asked him.
“I don’t often want to beat up people.” His voice was toneless. “But I don’t have any sympathy for a guy who preys on a much younger girl.” There was something in his voice. This wasn’t an abstract discussion of something that had happened to me twelve years ago. There was an edge in his tone.
“There’s a story there,” I said. I kept my voice light. I was prying, but I wanted to know.
“That was Andrea’s start in the lifestyle,” he said. “Her first Dominant was forty. She was nineteen.”
“Ah.” I got the sense there was more to the story. But my thoughts were all over the place, my emotions churning. “I don’t know what to say to that,” I finally said.
He shrugged. “All of it is in the past, Lisa. Your ex-Dom, Andrea. All of it. What matters now is what’s in front of us. You. The way you feel in my arms. The way you laugh when you tell me a story, the way you sound when you moan out my name.”
I exhaled a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. My fingers tightened on his, and I just touched him for a while; savouring the comfort of his warmth and his protection. “What are we doing here, Patrick?” I asked finally.
“In what way?” His hand moved from mine; reached over and cupped my breasts, pushed them together. He turned on his side, lowered his mouth on my nipples, flicking his tongue from one nub to another, till I arched and moaned.
“Patrick,” I yelped. “Serious discussion here.”
He sucked a nipple between his lips, his teeth gently grazing at the tip. I whimpered in helpless arousal as my pussy flooded instantly, reacting to his touch. “Sorry,” he said. “Ask your question.”
“What are we doing? Are you seeing other women? Are we exclusive?”
He snorted into my nipples, and then lifted his head to give me a look of disbelief. “You have to be kidding me, right? You think I’m seeing someone else?”
Pleasure filled me, and I reached out and pulled his mouth on mine. “Good,” I muttered and kissed him. “I’m seeing this really hot doctor,” I told him, with a wink, pulling away from him for a second.
He grinned at me. “What’s he like, this guy?” His mouth found mine again, and he kissed me, sucking my lower lip into his teeth and biting gently. I groaned and writhed next to him.
“He’s pretty great,” I replied, as his mouth kissed a line down my neck. “Good kisser,” I added.
“Tell me more,” he urged. I could hear the smile in his voice. My hips shifted, and I parted my legs, feeling his erection nudge me between my thighs.
“Knows how to use his dick,” I grinned. He laughed aloud. “The things you say,” he said, kissing me at the base of my neck.
“Mmm, do that again,” I begged. The spot he’d kissed me at had a straight line to my pussy. Fires of arousal were starting their slow simmer, and in a minute, everything would erupt in full blaze. He smiled, and kissed that spot again, and this time, he grasped a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and pinched gently.
I groaned aloud. “Patrick,” I whimpered.
“Tell me more about this guy,” he ordered, amusement in his eyes. I grinned at him. Men.
“Great body,” I said. My right hand roamed over his body, pulling him possessively closer to me.
“What else?” he asked, openly laughing this time. My lips twitched. “When he touches me,” I said, looking into his eyes, “this happens.” I took hold of his right hand, and pressed it into my pussy. I was dripping; my thighs sticky with juice.
Heat flared in his eyes. “Does it indeed?” his voice was silky. He slid down the bed. “Keep those legs parted, or I’ll tie you up,” he warned me. I obligingly spread my legs wider.
He slid three fingers into me, pushing, twisting, curving against my g-spot, and I whimpered as need instantly shuddered through me. “Don’t stop,” I begged, as his mouth lowered on my clitoris. In contrast with his fingers, his mouth was gentle, his tongue licking my bud gently, lapping at my gushing juices. “So wet, baby,” he said, his voice muffled. “So sweet, so responsive, so wet.”
“Patrick,” I begged, and I could hear the pressure and the need in my voice. I moved my right hand to his head, and pushed it into my pussy; tightened my legs around him. He chuckled, and used his hands to spread them open again, and gave me two hard spanks on the inside of my thighs.
“Keep them spread,” he said, and this time, the threat was unmistakable. I laughed and spread them open. “Sorry, Dr. Anderson,” I said, amusement running through my voice. The spanks had sent a flash of longing running through me. “If I close my legs again, would you spank me once more?” I asked.
He laughed in turn. “Shh,” he chided, looking up from my pussy. “Be a good girl.”
The instant he spoke those words, all playfulness left me, and only arousal was left in its wake. Arousal, and a fervent desire to please him. “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I whispered, and this time, I was shocked by the submission in my voice.
His eyes met mine; the change in my voice had not gone unnoticed. His lips curved into a smile, and his eyes filled with pleasure. “Come whenever you want, baby,” he said, as he lowered his mouth onto my gushing pussy again, this time, using his hands to
spread my lips open so he could lap at my juices; trace a slow, deliberate line all the way from the bottom of my pussy, right up my slit, and then sucking my clitoris into his mouth.
“Fuck, Patrick,” I groaned as lightning waves of pleasure shot through me. My voice was ragged. His fingers pinched my pussy lips, pulled them just hard enough to add a sliver of pain to the pleasure. I whimpered.
“You like that, baby?” he asked.
“Please,” I begged. “More, please don’t stop, Patrick, please.” His pace was maddeningly slow. I would come when he had driven me insane with longing and delirious with pleasure, but not an instant sooner, no matter how much I begged.
It didn’t stop me from begging. “Patrick,” I ground out, “please.”
He licked a long, leisurely line up my slit again, ending with another flick of his tongue on my clitoris. I wanted to reach my hand down and press his head to my pussy again, but I knew better. I held still instead, and begged for him to lick me harder.
He didn’t; he dipped a tongue into my slit like I was a rare, tasty treat. “Mmm,” he muttered, his voice appreciative. “So wet.”
I pushed my hips into him, trying to get him to lick me faster. Two hard spanks on my pussy shocked me to stillness. “Keep still, Lisa,” he chided. “The more you wriggle around, the slower I’m going to go, understand?”
I whimpered a small protest, but I kept my hips still, and I kept quiet. If that’s what I needed to do for him to let me come, I was going to do it. His slow exploration of my pussy had fanned the flames of my arousal and every muscle in my body quivered for more.
He finally relented. One hand gripped my ass painfully, and he thrust three fingers into me again, and his tongue pressed down on my clitoris. Sparks of arousal caught in a blaze as his tongue lapped again on my bud, setting a steady, hard rhythm that had me fisting my hands, and struggling to stay still and quiet.
His fingers curved in me, pulling me towards his mouth; his tongue lapped, and his teeth nipped and in an instant, I was lost in my orgasm, the muscles in my pussy clenching hard around his thrusting fingers, my voice screaming his name as I shattered.
His mouth stayed on me as I thrashed on the bed, unable to keep still as my orgasm swept through my body, and then, finally, when my clitoris was so sensitive it was painful, he stopped, and pulled himself up.
“Mmm,” I groaned. For the moment, I was satiated. I eyed his erection; he was rock hard, and just like that, I wanted him in me.
I reached forward to touch his dick, but he laughed and batted my hands away. Instead, he held his fingers near my mouth. “Clean me,” he instructed, and I opened my mouth and he pushed his fingers in. They were sticky with the juice from my pussy, and I licked, and sucked, applying the same care to his fingers that I would to his beautiful cock. My ministrations had their effect; his eyes were hot with lust.
“Stop,” he ordered, his voice husky. “Come here.” He gathered me in his arms so I was looking into his face.
“I’m going to say something,” he said quietly. “A big, dramatic speech.” His voice had a trace of self-mockery in it. “But necessary.”
I looked at him; his tone had my attention.
“Here’s what you need to know about me. I’m only a nice guy to a point,” he said evenly. “I’m not jealous or controlling. I won’t run your life.” His hand stroked my hair absently, as he continued, looking into my eyes. “But there’s one thing I’m not going to tolerate. You don’t run from me. You don’t walk away. Not when I haven’t done anything to deserve it. You can walk away if I ever hurt you. But not before. Are we clear on that?”
I looked at him in return. I’d come home with this man when I didn’t know him at all. I’d felt comfortable sharing my fantasies with him right from the start. He was dominant in the ways that I craved, and when he spoke to me in that voice, that level, quiet voice, shocking lust ran through my body. We’d played together, and we’d eaten meals together. He made me laugh. He had been there for me when I needed him.
I was afraid of his dominance and my submissiveness; afraid of shattering into pieces the way I had after Nick. But there was no denying that I also needed him in a way that was inexplicable to me.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He smiled and turned off the light. “Get some sleep, Lisa. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
Chapter 10
Patrick:
I had been angry with her for ignoring me all week. But by the time I got to the hospital, I had let it go. I had to, else there would be no moving forward.
The only way I could let her come back to my house was to let the anger go. In a world where play included whips and crops and other instruments of pain, you had to make damn sure you didn't play in anger. Because that would have just been beating her, and I wasn't that much of an asshole.
The thirteen strokes were to make a point. She had run, and I hadn't liked it and I'd made my point, both with words and with the deliberate count of the belt strokes. It was done. Time to turn the page.
***
Bit by bit, we were revealing pieces of ourselves. Slow peels of the onion, till we uncovered the core of who we were. But neither of us were in the first flush of youth, and we both had our defenses in place against being hurt. We had built our walls. Now, we had to trust in each other enough to break those walls down. Brick by brick. One at a time.
Last night had been a start. But it was just that. A start. I wasn’t fooling myself into thinking we knew everything about each other. There was still stuff from my past that I hadn’t told her, and I could tell there was still things she hadn’t told me.
We needed to build a bond together that would be strong enough to survive the stress of our pasts; overcome the baggage we still carried. I’d never wanted to try before. But I wanted this woman, more than I would have believed possible.
***
The alarm went off, and I heard the sounds of Lisa waking up. I’d been awake for a few hours; I’d called the hospital to check on her mother, and then, I sat and drank my coffee, reviewing my schedule for next week. Predictably, it was hell. If I had a spare evening all week, I would be lucky.
The last few weeks had been uncharacteristically light, but evidently, the vacation was over. I made a face. This was the worst possible time for me to get busy. My unavailability would strain a fledging relationship.
A thousand scattered thoughts were on my mind when she walked through the door. She was wearing one of my t-shirts. Her hair was a wild tangle of curls; her eyes half-open. She looked impossibly sexy, but she was not a morning person, my Lisa. I grinned and got up to pour her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, taking a sip. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her, tasting toothpaste and coffee on her breath.
“Breakfast, baby?” I asked her. I knew she had to leave for the hospital soon, and from the text message that had come in right before she’d walked into the room, so did I. Emergency scheduling. I didn’t have a lot of time to linger.
“I’ll grab something at the coffee shop in the hospital,” she mumbled. Her eyes were still sleepy, but there was a worried crease between her eyebrows.
“I called the hospital; your mother is fine. She’s stable, she had a good night. Don’t worry,” I told her.
She exhaled, and looked at me. “Thanks, Patrick,” she said, and I heard the genuine gratitude in her tone. For a simple phone call.
“I have to be at the hospital soon,” I told her. “If you shower quickly, I can give you a ride.”
She took a sip of coffee and made a face. Her eyes were on her mug. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
I crouched in front of her, tipped her face up so I could look into her eyes. “Lisa,” I said firmly. “You aren’t dragging me into things; you are letting me into your life. I want to be there for you. I want to be the person you turn to when you need something. I want to be the guy you reach for; the person you lean on. Okay?”
&nbs
p; She smiled at me, with that smile that always sent desire curling through me. “Okay,” she said. I could only hope she meant it.
Chapter 11
Lisa:
I got to the hospital early, catching a ride with Patrick. He kissed me briefly as we entered, and then he rushed off. In the car, I could sense his mind was on other things, but I didn’t probe.
It was eight in the morning. I was still wearing the clothes I had yesterday. Patrick had been preoccupied and I hadn’t wanted to make him drive all the way to my place for a change of clothes. I found my dad in the little café that was attached to the hospital emergency waiting area. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a donut, and joined him at his table.
“She’s okay?” I asked him. Patrick’s words had reassured me; I was beyond grateful that he had checked.
My dad nodded. “They let me in to see her briefly,” he said. “She was lucid for a bit. The surgery is scheduled for this afternoon. 1pm, they said.” I could see the fingers in his left hand, the one curled around the coffee cup. His fingers were crossed. Mine were as well. It was as if we couldn’t talk about my mother without that silly superstition.
“That quick? Patrick didn’t tell me.” Panic laced my voice.
“He’s your boyfriend?” my dad asked. My parents had given up hope a long time ago that I would find a nice guy, get married, do all the conventional things that most women did. They never had asked why, and I had never told them about Nick. The truth would have hurt them and I wasn’t sadistic, just masochistic. Any pain would stay mine.
“I guess,” I said. I hadn’t called someone my boyfriend in a very long time. I’d never brought a guy home to meet my parents.
“He seems nice,” my dad said carefully. He was navigating uncharted waters as well.
“He’s pretty great.” My voice was firm. Whatever doubts I had, they weren’t about Patrick; they were about my ability to be in a healthy, mature relationship.
We changed the subject. “Can I see her before they get her in surgery?” I asked. I was trying to keep my voice steady. My dad didn’t need to deal with my panic and my fears; he had his own.
Doctor Dom Series Sequence One (Triage | Observation | Diagnosis): A BDSM & Medical Play Series Page 16