Beware Falling Ice

by Tymber Dalton

  She smiled, and it hardened his cock. If it wasn’t so damn cold out, he’d be tempted to reach over and finger her and tease her.

  “I don’t worry about you like that, Sir. I trust you. I think that’s why I can fall into subspace with you.”

  He reached up and tightly fisted her hair, tipping her head back so he could graze his teeth along her throat. “Like this?”

  “Uh-huh!”

  He chuckled. They did have excellent rapport, in a scene and out of it. “If we were home, you’d be in a dress or skirt and no panties. You realize that, right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you want to know why?”

  “Because Sir wants it?”

  “Excellent answer, pet, but not exactly the one I was looking for. So I could easily tease you and get you nice and wet before we went into the restaurant, and then enjoy the look you wore all through the meal as I kept you simmering.”

  Her chest rose and fell with her breathing, and he knew if they were inside and she was naked that a sweet pink blush would have risen up her chest and into her throat already.

  He nibbled on her earlobe. “I think I have a pet who needs a spanking so she can earn her fucking.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Then let’s get moving.”

  She opened the door so fast he started laughing when she got tangled in her seat belt and realized she hadn’t unfastened it yet. By the time he reached their hotel room door, she was already inside and yanking off her coat and shoes.

  He made sure the Do Not Disturb sign was in place before deadbolting the door and throwing the security bar. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Such a good pet.”

  Thirty seconds later, she was on her knees in front of him, totally naked and fishing his cock out of his jeans.

  He stared down at her as she worked her mouth over him, not even the cold a match for his pet’s oral talents.

  They were both plenty worked up.

  I have to be careful not to push her too hard too soon.

  It would be too damn easy to do that, to make a mistake.

  The problem was, he felt pretty sure he was in love with her. His heart was already at stake.

  After letting her do that for a couple of minutes, he bent her over the edge of the bed while he finished undressing. Then he got the vibrator out, worked it into her pussy, and turned it on low.

  Like that, he pinned her to the bed with his left hand between her shoulder blades, and then proceeded to paddle her with the right. He took his time, alternating hard, fast bursts of strokes with lighter ones, keeping her guessing, the vibrator distracting her and helping her process the pain differently. Andrew loved the way she moaned and flexed under his hands as her body struggled to make sense of it all.

  Finally, his own cock was aching, leaking, throbbing to feel her mouth again. He put the paddle aside and lay back on the bed. “On top of me, pet. Sixty-nine. Let me finish you off.”

  She moved so fast he almost wasn’t ready for it.

  Then he saw stars as something painfully nailed him dead center in the middle of his forehead, making him yelp.

  She turned. “What’s—oh, no!”

  He rolled onto his side, his hands pressed against his forehead. On the bed next to him, the vibrator, which had slid out of her pussy and conked him right between the eyes, happily hummed away.

  She grabbed it and switched it off.

  “Ice, pet. Please.”

  “Yes, Sir!” She yanked on her long coat and grabbed the ice bucket and her room key before racing out the door, barefoot.

  “Motherfucker.” He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, the pain starting to decrease. She returned with the ice and made him an icepack, which he wrapped in a hand towel before pressing against his forehead.

  “Gee, how’d you get that bruise, Andrew?” he snarked. “Oh, I’m the repeat victim of a vicious attack vibrator.” He stared at her. “Thank god it didn’t give me a concussion. I’d have to lie to the ambulance crew and say I slipped on ice, because no way in fucking hell am I admitting I got a concussion from a vibrator.”

  He wasn’t sure which of the two of them started laughing first, but before long they were both flat on the bed, crying tears as they laughed.

  “We’re gonna get a plug-in Hitachi,” he said. “I can’t remember hearing anyone being attacked by one of those things. That goddamned vibrator of yours is out to kill me. Did you buy it from a sex magick voodoo shop or something? Did you interrupt some old crone’s orgasms and she cursed you? Did you get it on Craigslist with a sketchy message—one vibrator, free, barely used, hasn’t killed anyone…yet?”

  She snorted. “I’m so sorry, Sir. But you realize we just set the bar really high for funny stories, right?”

  “At least you haven’t coughed a butt plug out.”

  “Yet.”

  “True. There’s always a first time. Note to self, no anal play during allergy season.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  They made it through the rest of the week with no more vibrator attacks or ice storms. Friday morning, they quietly sat at the gate while awaiting their call to board, fingers laced together, her head tipped over onto his shoulder.

  They’d gotten checked out of the hotel, the rental car returned, their checked bags checked, and made it through security with no problems—a shock to both of them.

  “We good, pet?” Andrew softly asked.

  “Yeah.” She squeezed his hand. “We’re real good, Sir.”

  He released her hand and draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “So I guess you got yourself a Dom now.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “I guess I do.” She smiled up at him. “That means you got yourself a subby.”

  He looked so exhausted, but the smile he gave her threatened to start her clit throbbing again. “Yeah. I sure do.” He kissed her. “And, FYI, early mornings are still a freaking hard limit.”

  “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

  He smiled. “We’ll get a room tonight at the hotel we stayed at before. I already booked it. I don’t feel like driving home tonight. One more night won’t matter since tomorrow’s Saturday anyway. We’ll grab breakfast in the morning before we head home.”

  “Thank you.”

  He gently tipped her chin so she had to look into his eyes. “I mean it. I’m in this for the long haul if you are. I think after this week it’s not a matter of if we can make this work, but making sure we don’t stop working at it.”

  “I always thought I was fucked up before all of this.”

  He snuggled her against him again. “Not by a long shot. You’ve been through a lot, and maybe there are things you’ve held in and held back so you didn’t have to deal with them. But trust me when I say this feels way different than what I went through before.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “That goes both ways,” he reminded her. “I’m not saying I think this will be magic. I think we’ll both have to work our butts off. And I want to do that. I think this is worth it. If you’re willing to work, too.”

  “I am.” She closed her eyes and loved the feel of his shoulder under her head. “Nothing has felt this right before. Ever.”

  “Ditto.”

  When the gate attendant finally called them to queue for their flight, Andrew went first, scanning his phone, then waited for her to scan hers. At least Sioux Falls had a jetway, which was a good thing because it was still chilly as hell outside, and rainy.

  As they settled into their seats, he slid the armrest up and out of the way so he could more easily hold hands with her during the flight.

  Laying her head onto his shoulder, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and realized this was the most peaceful she’d ever felt in her entire adult life.

  * * * *

  Halfway through their flight, the flight attendants had to stop the drink service due to extreme turbulence.

  “You gotta be shitting me,” Andrew m
umbled. He stared at her. “Next time, pet, we’re driving. Period.”

  She held his hand a little more tightly as another bump jolted the plane. “Agreed, Sir.”

  The rest of the flight was annoyingly bumpy. He wasn’t exactly a scared flier, but he didn’t do a lot of it.

  That meant a bumpy flight wasn’t a fun flight.

  Finally, as they made their final approach to St. Pete-Clearwater International, Andrew stared into Rachel’s eyes. He had hoped maybe during the weekend they’d grow a little closer, but the events—despite the aggravations—had surpassed his wildest dreams.

  He knew he was in love with her.

  “Love you, pet.”

  When she smiled, the last tiny bit of hesitation in his brain melted and fell free, disappearing. “Love you, too, Sir. But we’re not going to die.”

  “I damn sure hope not. That’d be horrible irony.”

  But as the wheels touched down on the runway, they were all thrown forward against their seat belts as it felt like the pilot stood on the brakes and the engines wound up to a scream. Andrew would have sworn as the plane made a hard left turn at the end of the runway that one of the wheels might have raised up, just a little.

  Finally, they were parked outside the terminal and had to wait as one of those dinky, shaky ramps was wheeled into position. Incredibly, as they deplaned, Andrew winced as he realized they still had one of the jet engines running, screaming in their ears as they headed down the ramp.

  And then they were stuck on the ramp as the guy at the bottom stopped and tried screaming at one of the crew on the tarmac to get their attention.

  “Which way are we supposed to go?”

  Finally, someone hurried over and started waving people around construction barriers and toward a double door at the end of the building.

  When Rachel glanced back at him, he shot her a scowl. “Driving,” he screamed over the sound of the engine. “We’re driving next time, dammit.”

  * * * *

  They checked into their hotel room, this time a single king-sized bed. They dropped their luggage, stripped, and climbed under the crisp, clean sheets. He passed her the TV remote before pulling her close.

  “Dom says subby picks the show today.” He closed his eyes and snuggled tightly against her. “After a nap, we can decide what we want for dinner.”

  “Yes, Sir. Sounds like a great plan to me.” She found a sitcom and left the volume just loud enough to drown out noises from around them, but not so loud they couldn’t nap.

  When she awoke some time later, from the color of the light around the curtains she guessed it was close to dusk. Andrew had draped an arm around her and had molded his body along her backside.

  Yep, this is what content feels like.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said, startling her. He still sounded half asleep.

  “About what?”

  He made her roll over and look at him. “I was going to call ‘dibs’ on you, but that sounds kind of childish and unDomly. I figured the next best thing I could do to make sure you don’t get away from me is to propose to you. Will you marry me? I promise I’ll do a better job of proposing once I get you a ring, but I realized we were one bad turbulence bump away from maybe not even landing safely.”

  She was still trying to process what he’d just said. “Marry you?”

  “Yeah. Uh, unless I just horribly misjudged things and put my foot in my—”

  She kissed him, shoving her tongue into his mouth and softly moaning as he took over and took control of the kiss before finally letting her speak again. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes you’ll marry me, or yes I just horribly—”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you!”

  He grinned. “Not saying we have to get married tomorrow. But I’d hate to have to kick some other Dom’s ass because he tried to snipe you out from under me. Calling you ‘just’ my girlfriend or ‘just’ my submissive doesn’t feel right. I love you a lot more than that. I think I’ve loved you for the past several months, but I was too scared to even think about it, much less admit it.”

  He kissed her this time, slow and deep and making her forget there was a world outside their hotel room.

  “Trial period, then?” she finally asked when he let her up for air once more.

  “Trial period. Otherwise known as an engagement by everyone in the vanilla world, I do believe.”

  “Even after all the crazy you saw?”

  “Considering how normal you appear to have turned out, I’m not holding them against you. Justin seems rather well-adjusted, too, all things considered.” He nuzzled his head against hers again. “We’ll hold a collaring first. See how we do from there. Everything goes okay, then we make it permanent.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “So would I.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I would really like that. Because after this week, I realized that the thought of going back to my life the way it was depresses the hell out of me. I didn’t realize how lonely I was before I spent this week with you, or how much I’d been fighting myself to not admit that I really, really love you.”

  “Me, either. I mean, I knew I was whacked in some ways, but…yeah.”

  He stared into her eyes. “My life is, so far, way better with you in it.”

  “Me, too. Mine, too. I mean—”

  He kissed her. “Can you handle having a goofball for a Dom?”

  “Only if you can handle having a headstrong Yotes fan for a subby.”

  “Yeah, I think I can handle that. Although if we rooted for the Jackrabbits, just think of the ‘fucking like bunnies’ jokes we could make.”

  “There is that. And who says we can’t make those jokes anyway?”

  “True.”

  * * * *

  The next afternoon, inside Rachel’s condo, Andrew stood there holding her.

  Rachel didn’t want him to let go.

  “I don’t want to say good-bye to you,” he admitted.

  “Me, either.”

  “Want to go to the club tonight?”

  Rachel thought about the mountain of mail, laundry, and other things she had to do.

  “Yes, Sir. Please.”

  “Want to spend the night at my house tonight?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’d like that very much.”

  He stared down into her eyes. “I’m beginning to rethink something.”

  Her heart fluttered in a really bad way. “What, Sir?”

  “I think I need to give you a key. It’ll make things way easier coming and going.”

  Her heart’s fluttering changed to racing, but the good kind. “I thought you didn’t want to give me a key yet?”

  “Do you want a key?”

  This was big. She knew that, for Andrew, this was nearly as big as an engagement ring.

  Especially after the shit Kandy had put him through.

  “Yes, Sir. I would love that. Do you want one for my condo?”

  “That’s up to you, pet. I won’t order you to do something like that.”

  She untangled herself from him, walked over to the drawer in the kitchen where she kept a spare key, and brought it to him. “I trust you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rachel sat at the table while Lynn shoved another magazine under her nose. “How about that one?” It was a Thursday night, and they’d be heading to the club soon for a secret get-together that everyone apparently knew about but her.

  Andrew was going to meet her there after taking care of a few errands. Well, she suspected she knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, but she’d pretend Domly Dude had kept all his secrets.

  Tomorrow, Justin was flying in, and they’d be going to pick him up. Tonight, Terrie and Lynn had been tasked with driving her and making sure she got to the club on time.

  Unfortunately, her two friends had decided to turn the time before that into an impromptu wedding planning session, bringing armfuls of magazines with them.

  “How many of these
are you going to make me look at?”

  “All of them,” Terrie said, sitting down with another armful of magazines, which she dumped on the table. “Andrew said he wanted you in a beautiful dress.”

  They’d barely been back from South Dakota for two weeks, and already their wedding plans were in full swing. “I thought the bride was supposed to decide this?”

  “You do get to decide this,” Lynn said. “But your Dom has issued orders. I think he wants to lock you into this before you change your mind and run away.”

  “He’s not your Dom,” she muttered. “You don’t have to be an accomplice.”

  “Ha!” Terrie pointed at the magazine under Rachel’s nose. “Sorry, but you don’t scare me, and Andrew does. We were issued marching orders.”

  “Maybe Tilly will help me.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Lynn said. “I think he already talked to her.”

  “Dammit.”

  “Hey, you get full control of the menu,” Terrie reminded her.

  “Menu? I just wanted snacks and cake. Somehow, that morphed into a fricking formal dinner. I don’t want a ‘menu.’”

  The other two women started laughing. “Uh, yeah,” Lynn said. “Again, good luck with that. Andrew said he’s only doing this once in his life, and he wants it to be an experience to remember.”

  “At least he let me pick who not to invite,” she said. “Most of the dipshidiots from up north wouldn’t be able to attend even if they knew about it. They can’t afford to come down. And no, before you say anything, I swore Justin to silence. They aren’t on my Facebook account, either, so there’s nothing for them to see.”

  “Good,” her friends said.

  Lynn giggled. “I’m sooo putting all of this in a book.”

  Rachel shot her a dark glare. “You are enjoying this far too much.”

  She shrugged. “I’m a feral and free-range sadomasochistic switch.” She grinned, even though hints of her sadness peeked through. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

  “Nothing.” Rachel flipped the page. “Because you’d enjoy it no matter what I did.”