FetteredLove
Page 10
They both laughed this time, and the knots dissolved in Kirk’s neck and shoulders. He snorted. “He even took pictures. Very demoralizing. I think he’s hoping for punishment.”
“Then you’re in luck. I’m a wealth of devious ideas for punishment,” she purred.
“We tag team him.”
“It’s one of the advantages of our new arrangement, two dominants in the household.”
“So it’s a yes?”
She bit her lip, nodded again.
“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” He recaptured her hand, held it between his, and leaned in for a kiss.
She opened. Wet. Deep. Perfect.
Too soon, he forced himself to pull back. “I love you.”
“I love you. Thank you for chasing me down this time.” Sarah punctuated her words by crouching and kissing the zipper over his crotch. She looked up from her awkward position. “For good luck. You know, for the baby making.”
She straightened and Kirk rolled his eyes.
Her gaze sparkled fiercely. “Now let’s go tie up our sub and celebrate.”
Kirk sighed with drama and covered his heart with his hand. “A girl after my own heart.”
Her lips tilted with a wry pleasure. “Your heart, your soul, the entire package.”
“You got it, Sarah.”
He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go home.”
She grabbed on tight.
Epilogue
Evan leaned against the car’s leather seat, focusing on the constriction of the double chain of jewelry enclosing the base of his cock and balls. His and hers, matching strands. His erection grew thinking about it, helped along by the plug he’d been instructed to wear up his ass. He soaked in the bickering drifting from the front of the vehicle. From Kirk and Sarah. He loved it. Six months since the collaring ceremony, every minute serrated bliss.
“You’ve gone down the same block a dozen times, Kirk,” Sarah huffed. “It’s not here.”
“1818 Bermuda, Unfettered’s address. We’re on Bermuda. It’s supposed to be right here. It’s fucking disappeared. The same number is on an old Victorian, someone’s home with boxes of daisies and all. But the club was in a converted warehouse building.”
“The gall of the place to disappear,” she answered with no little sarcasm.
Kirk’s voice tightened. “Suggestions then? Tonight was meant to be a celebration, returning to the scene of the crime.”
Sarah reached for her phone. “I’ll call the 1-800-DOM-help hotline. Maybe the Operator knows.”
She dialed, listened. “That’s funny, a recording. Says the number is out of service, no further information. The staff said nothing about that when I resigned.”
She returned the phone to her bag. “The universe is a strange place.”
Evan mused over the changes these past months, the unholy grace that had brought them together where they belonged. “It’s magic.”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder at him and her smile of wicked promise set his insides burning. “That’s why I keep a magic violet wand, angel.”
Kirk turned the steering wheel, heading them out of the Brighton neighborhood back to Cambridge. “Perhaps it’s a sign. I’m taking you home. It’s ten p.m. and you’re exhausted.”
She turned back to their lover. “I’m pregnant, not elderly, Kirk.”
“You need your rest.”
“Newsflash. I intend to be active the entire pregnancy. Going to clubs, whip in hand, finding all sorts of creative positions, even when I’m hippo fat, in which to fuck Evan up the ass. Honing my rope suspension skills. Needles, suction cups, sensory deprivation, any damn play I can manage.”
Evan squirmed in the backseat. Damn, he wanted them to bring him somewhere, anywhere. Fast.
Kirk’s hands tensed around the wheel. “Of course.”
Sarah shot him a look, tilting her head in thought. The silence spread over the dark interior, lights flickering by enough for Evan to catch moments of expression on their faces.
Sarah’s appearance softened. She finally broke the quiet with a gentle, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me be what I am despite your overwhelming Dom need to wrap me up in cotton. For learning how to step back and still love me. These have been the best six months of my life.”
He glanced over to her, a quick look before forcing eyes back on the road. “You’re welcome.”
She sighed. “We’ll play for only a short bit, if you can find a place, then you can tuck me into bed to get my rest.”
Kirk’s grin spread slowly over his face. “That will be my pleasure.”
They were making this work, despite its unlikely success. The three of them, fools in love and kink.
God, Evan prized it.
“I seem to remember a perfectly good dungeon at home,” he piped in. “You both can dress up as magicians in tribute to the funky disappearing club and I’ll be the poor beleaguered magician’s assistant whose body you use for your perverted, sexualized and dangerous magic tricks.”
“Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard today,” Kirk said, the car accelerating a degree to Evan’s amusement.
But an eager Master was a damn hot Master and Evan’s cock danced at the prospect.
From beside him, his Mistress spoke. “I’ve always wanted to cane a boy under a trance spell.”
Evan swallowed a moan and prayed Kirk had luck with the traffic lights and got them home fast. “Hit the gas, Kirk, or you’ll never make the green.”
Kirk’s low chuckle tortured him all the way from the seat in front, but the car sped faster. He made the light.
“Well, loves,” Kirk drawled. “Let’s get the hell home and make us some magic.”
About the Author
Once described by a new age practitioner as having an old soul, Michelle remains skeptical, but has learned to accept that the universe is a big place. Growing up, she always wanted to write novels. Her dream of creating fantastical stories as a full time career stayed with her after her first handwritten fantasy romance novella in middle school.
Luckily, she has made that dream come alive. Michelle loves to explore the duality of dark and light in her characters’ lives. Only when they push beyond the scars of their souls to accept themselves (helped along, of course, by their lovers) can she feel content she’s written a great story.
Living in a small New England town, she loves to rebel against a staid Yankee lifestyle through the pages of her manuscripts. Michelle adores pushing the boundaries of sensuality and taboo in her work, but mostly because, in the end, she knows that the connections she forges between the hearts and souls of her characters will lead them to happiness.
Michelle welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Michelle Polaris
Bound Odyssey
Magician’s Chains
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