WET

by Carpenter, Maggie

  Brittany wasn't the only one who needed a break. Duncan had to gather his thoughts. Her craving was so acute he found it surprising she'd never been under the authority of a loving Dominant, but she came from a small town. Those who shared the unique lifestyle had difficulty meeting each other in a large city. He couldn't imagine how hard it would be in a country community. Opening a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and pouring himself a glass, he sipped the light refreshing wine and thought about the days ahead. He had every confidence she would be next to him on the plane back to London.

  "Blast. I need to make her reservation," he muttered, the thought suddenly hitting him, and reaching for the phone he called Joe and asked him to book the seat.

  "British Airways, First Class, and make sure they know we want seats next to each other."

  "Yes, Mr. Davies, and forgive me if I'm overstepping, but may I say I'm very pleased to hear such happy news. There must be something special about those two staterooms."

  "This has happened before?"

  "Yes, sir. A couple of times. The same two cabins."

  "How extraordinary. I'll be sure and tell Brittany. I hope I'll still need that seat when the time comes."

  "I suspect you will," the steward replied, and Duncan could hear Joe's smile as he spoke.

  He provided the additional information the steward needed to make the reservation, but as Duncan replaced the receiver he had an unexpected moment of doubt. A few days on a cruise and he'd invited a madcap Southern Belle into his home for a week.

  "I've either completely lost my mind, or I really have fallen for her. I suppose love can make one do strange things."

  Taking another sip of his wine, he began to think about what he'd do with her once they landed. The Bowler Hat immediately came to mind, and he grinned at the thought of taking her shopping for the right outfit. Then there were the shows at the West End, and indulging in the food court at Harrods. It wouldn't be a question of how to fill their time, but having enough time to do all the things on offer. But his smile began to fade. While the first few days would be all about fun—and salacious sex—on Monday he'd be back at work. Brittany would have to entertain herself until he returned home, and he'd have a brand new case waiting, a case he'd have to peruse after hours in his study.

  "I'll worry about that when the time comes," he muttered. "If the time comes. It may not. I can't get ahead of myself."

  Placing his wine glass on the counter, he returned to the bedroom and found her as he expected. Resting on her side. Moving to the bed he sat down and stroked the hair off her face.

  "How are you?"

  Opening her eyes, she stared up at him.

  "If it was yesterday, I'd probably say something like, how do you think? Now I have no desire to say that. The truth is, I'm not sure how I am, except my butt hurts like hell, and I certainly feel like I've been punished. I was just lying here thinking how I didn't feel any anger from you, just a determination to discipline me for what I'd done. Is that the right word? Determination?"

  "I'd say that word is as good as any. Desire maybe. Obligation and responsibility fit as well."

  "I am emotional. I want to curl up against you and have you hold me and never let me go, but I guess that can't happen yet, or can it?"

  "It can absolutely happen, and It will," he said softly. "There is more to come, but I'm very proud of you. I'm especially proud of everything you've just said."

  Reaching for the blanket at the bottom of the bed, he stretched out next to her and covered them both.

  "I don't want you getting cold," he murmured, wrapping her up in his arms. "Brittany, I do love how you feel in my arms."

  "Duncan!"

  "That surprises you?"

  "It surprises me to hear you say it."

  "Why?"

  "I'm not sure. Maybe because I didn't expect you to be so open about your feelings."

  "Haven't I already been open about my feelings?"

  "Yes, but they were, uh, different."

  "Feelings are feelings. I expressed my disappointment and anger, and now I'm expressing how much I adore you. I'll always do my best to tell you what's going on with me, and I expect the same from you, but now it's time to rest, my beautiful Brittany."

  "Not your bratty Brittany?"

  "Not right now. Right now you're my beautiful Brittany."

  "Can I ask you one last thing?"

  "Just one."

  "Why am I like this? Why are you the way you are?"

  "That's a question that has been asked a thousand times by a thousand people, men and women alike," he said with a heavy sigh. "There's no single answer, and there's no easy answer. Human sexuality, the human psyche, is complex. I've stopped wondering. I've just accepted who I am and the way I am."

  "But you were right about why I do some of the things I do."

  "You are very spoiled, but you're also very smart. I'll bet you figured out how to get what you wanted when you were just a little girl."

  "You're right. My mother would be the one who would scold me and want to punish me, but all I had to do was go to my father and tell him how sorry I was. If I cried a bit that would be the end of any potential punishment."

  "And your boyfriends?"

  "My boyfriends? Oh, good grief. I don't know why, but every guy I've dated has been scared of me."

  "Scared of you, or scared of losing you?"

  "How do you know this stuff?"

  "Life," he said with a soft chuckle. "The best and cruelest teacher."

  "I think you're right. Scared of losing me. Honestly, I don't know why men don't get it. Why can't they take a stand. I got so sick and tired of hearing whatever you want, whatever makes you happy. That's all well and good, but after a while it gets boring."

  "I'm sure they meant well, and you can be quite fearsome. Not every man is going to put their girlfriend over their knee. They might want to, but it's not PC."

  "No, it certainly isn't."

  "No more questions. Snuggle up and close your eyes. Round two is coming, and you must rest."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Duncan was standing in a lush green meadow. His dark hair fell to his shoulders in gentle waves, like soft ripples in a pond. Dressed in a shiny suit of armor, but with a crown on his head, a white mist swirled in the air. As she moved forward to join him, her feet not touching the ground, and a familiar melody floated through the air, and the words of the song were whispered in her ear.

  These dreams go on when I close my eyes

  Every second of the night I live another life

  These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside

  Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

  There's something out there

  I can't resist

  I need to hide away from the pain

  There's something out there

  I can't resist

  The sweetest song is silence

  That I've ever heard

  Funny how your feet

  In dreams never touch the earth

  In a wood full of princes

  Freedom is a kiss

  But the prince hides his face

  From dreams in the mist

  "Brittany. Wake up."

  "My prince…"

  "Maybe I am, but you still need to wake up."

  Struggling to bring herself up from a deep sleep, she opened her eyes and stared into Duncan's handsome face.

  "That must have been some dream you were having," he remarked with a soft smile. "You were mumbling something about mists and princes and being in the woods."

  "You were a Knight in Shining Armor, literally, then the song played, the one my mother loved."

  "What was the song? Do you remember?"

  "Dreams in the Mist. I think that's it, and the band is two girls with amazing voices."

  "Heart. They were big back in the eighties."

  "My mother would sing along and tell me I'd meet my prince one day just like she did, and he'd be a Knight in Shi
ning Armor. Duncan, do you think the dream was right?"

  "I hope it was," he murmured, nuzzling her neck. "I'd love to be your knight."

  "You are, and I must think that subconsciously as well. I dreamed it."

  "Are you ready for Round Two?"

  "That depends on what that is," she said with a twinkle.

  "Yes, you're definitely ready, but you need some water. I'll fetch it for you."

  Watching him walk across to the bathroom she felt her heart swell. She often had mystifying dreams that carried covert messages, but there was nothing hidden in the one she'd just had. Her Dominant prince had walked into her life.

  "Here, drink this," he said, returning with a bottle of water, "then take off the rest of your clothes and wait for me on your stomach with your eyes closed. I'll be back in a minute."

  "Yes, Sir."

  He softly kissed her, and as he left the room she downed several gulps and placed the bottle on the bedside table. Removing her silk top and bra, she settled on her stomach and closed her eyes. It was a few minutes before she sensed, not heard, his return, then the mattress moved and his lips were against her ear.

  "Tell me Brittany, what is the bad habit I find annoying and impolite?"

  "I interrupt, Sir."

  "Yes, you do. When you interrupt it means you're not interested in what the other person is saying, you don't care about their opinion or feelings. It has to stop."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Corner time is a gentle way to help you focus, but I have learned corner time doesn't have much of an impact on you, so, young lady, we must move to something else. When we're in London I'll have the proper equipment, but here I have to improvise. Bring your legs together and raise your feet."

  After blindfolding her with a black silk sash, he picked up a necktie, wrapped her wrists together at the small of her back and left a tether, then followed suit with her ankles. Knotting the two tethers together created a gentle hog-tie. It was her introduction to bondage, and though not severe, he believed it would make an impression.

  "Once you're in my home I'll weave my ropes in various ways, but this position will help you to focus," he said solemnly. "Surrender to this, Brittany, and think about the many times you've interrupted me and others. Think about why you cannot hold your tongue. If your muscles begin to cramp call out to me. Do you have any questions?"

  "No, Sir."

  "How do you feel?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "No sense of panic?"

  "No, Sir, nothing like that."

  "Sink into it. You'll find it can be liberating. Ironic, but it can."

  Moving back to the armchair, he settled in to keep watch. He didn't like using neck ties. If she struggled the knots could tighten, causing a problem if he needed to untie them quickly, so he'd left a pair of scissors on the nightstand. Glancing across at the clock on the desk he took note of the time; she'd remain in bondage for fifteen minutes.

  For many years Duncan had fantasized about creating a playroom in his house. He had the space, and he'd come close to making his dream a reality during his time with Sally. Thinking of his long ago love, it occurred to him she and Brittany were nothing alike.

  "Perhaps that's a good thing," he mumbled under his breath, his eyes focused on Brittany. "Perhaps that's why I'm able to take this leap of faith, because you're so different."

  Her upbringing had been far more sophisticated than he would have guessed. She had charmed the Sommelier at The Mermaid, but her demeanor at other times gave no hint of her background, and he wondered if she was ashamed of her family's wealth. Yet she was traveling First Class. Not the behavior of someone who was trying to hide their moneyed lifestyle. Glancing back at the clock, he realized he'd been so lost in his thoughts the time had zipped by. With only five minutes remaining he needed to check on her, and moving quietly to her side he studied her wrists and ankles. There was no sign of the circulation being cut off, the knots appeared to be as he'd left them, her breathing was measured, and she showed no signs of distress. Satisfied, he returned to his chair and continued his vigil.

  Though initially tense, after the first few minutes Brittany discovered relaxing made the position more comfortable, and of its own accord her focus shifted. Why did she interrupt? She'd been criticized for it in the past. She decided it must be due to a lack of patience, though she found no difficultly waiting for the time to go by in her present state. She found the contradiction puzzling, but her mind began to fall silent, and she drifted away. When she felt him untying her blindfold, it was as though she was waking up, but she hadn't been sleeping. Her wrists and ankles were quickly freed, and he massaged her muscles as he slowly returned her limbs to their natural position.

  "I'm guessing you've done this before," she quipped. "Ooh, I need that rubbing. Thank you."

  "Such a cheeky girl," he said with a grin. "Roll on your back."

  As he stretched out next to her and brought her into his arms, an unexpected tear dripped from the edge of her eye.

  "Why do I feel emotional again?"

  "You're releasing negative energy. I don't know how else to put it."

  "This is nothing like I thought it would be, well, this part anyway."

  "Did you have an epiphany?"

  "I did, but I get the feeling you already know that."

  "Don't worry about me, just tell me what went through your mind."

  "Patience. That's always been a problem for me, but in that fifteen minutes I felt what it means to be patient, and I realized how self-discipline fits into that," then pausing, she asked. "If I start interrupting again, are you going to tie me up?"

  "I just might, but you get five gold stars."

  "I also felt a weird kind of peace, but now I'm really tired."

  "Hungry too, I'm sure. How would you feel about a steaming plate of Fettuccine Alfredo?"

  "That sounds absolutely divine."

  "I want you to take a hot shower, and by the time you come out the food will be here."

  "I'm kind of overwhelmed."

  "I know," he nodded, silently adding, I am too. By you.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As the hot water streamed over her, Brittany closed her eyes and leaned against the shower wall. Though drained, a serene energy pulsed through her body. Over the years she had devoured many naughty novels, her head was often filled with salacious fantasies, and she'd spent hours exploring blogs posted by submissive women exploring their unique sexuality. But she had not been prepared for the reality. She loved the pain of Duncan's discipline and the pleasure of his touch in equal measure.

  And she loved him. Completely. It wasn't just what he was doing. It was him.

  Turning off the faucets, she stepped from the shower, toweled off, and wrapping herself up in the bathrobe, she padded back to the bedroom.

  "Are you ready to eat?" Standing by a rolling cart, Duncan made a theatrical gesture with his arm. "We have the fettuccine as promised, a green salad, cheesecake, and I ordered you tea instead of coffee."

  "Tea! Why does that sound so appealing?"

  "Perhaps my English ways are rubbing off. Get into bed and I'll bring you the tray."

  "You're spoiling me."

  "Good girls get rewarded."

  "I like this," she quipped, taking off the robe and climbing between the sheets. "Come along, don't keep me waiting."

  "Don't push your luck, young lady."

  "But it's what I do best," she said with a giggle. "It's one of the many things you love about me."

  "Indeed it is," he said, grinning back at her as he set the tray on her lap.

  "Aren't you having anything?"

  "Not right now."

  "I didn't think it would be like this," she remarked, rolling the creamy Italian pasta around her fork. "I didn't imagine you'd be serving me a wonderful meal in bed, that's for sure."

  "There's so much more, Brittany."

  "Why did that sound sad?"

  "Thoughtful. Not sad. When you
've finished you're going to take another nap."

  "Another one?"

  "Don't you feel tired?"

  "Kind of. Is discipline always like this? I mean, things happening then rest?"

  "There are no rules, I do what I feel. Now stop talking and eat."

  Settling into the armchair, he sat back and watched her enjoy the meal. Her hunger was evident, but he understood her need for conversation. She'd have many questions as the days passed, possibly more than he could answer, and though he'd been a dominant since his teens, he couldn't remember a submissive with such a deep craving for what he offered. Not even Sally.

  "That was delicious! Thank you," she exclaimed, laying down her fork and drinking the last of her tea. "And you're right again."

  "About?"

  "Needing a nap. Wow. I'm really wiped out. What time is it, anyway. I've completely lost track."

  "That's what happens. Doing what we do is a complete escape. We stop the world."

  "I love it, every bit of it," she murmured, then surrendered to a yawn as he picked up the tray. "Oh, man. I'm really beat."

  "That's why I'm leaving you alone. You need to rest, but I'll be here when you wake up."

  "Duncan, this is all so amazing."

  "It makes me very happy to hear you say that. Sleep well."

  Returning the tray to the cart, he rolled it into the living room, switching off the bedroom light on the way, and closed the door behind him.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Though her bottom was sore and her limbs a little achy, she passed into a deep, dreamless sleep until the feel of his arms around her stirred her awake. Surprised and happy to find him next to her, she snuggled against his body.

  "Duncan?"

  "Yes, Brittany?"

  "You're here?"