In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (6 page)

“That’s it,” Ezra appraised. “Let it take control.”

I didn’t think I could stop coming. Now
this
was some insane shit. I lost control of my limbs, couldn’t feel anything, raptured in euphoria. I didn’t know how long I was caught up, but it had to be a while because when Ezra lifted me from the ottoman my arms dropped to the side indicating he’d removed the rope at some point during my flight.

He carried me into the bathroom where he lowered me into fragrant stinging water that was still running. Ezra shifted my lifeless body to lay on top of his hard frame and wrapped me in his arms, kissing the side of my head as I faced the ceiling. My body still vibrated intermittingly. I had no control to stop it if I wanted to. And believe me, I did. It was humiliating to feel puppeteered.

For the first time with him, I wanted silence. I didn’t want to waste precious energy talking about what I didn’t understand. For a while, Ezra understood that. He said nothing. I forced my eyes closed in an attempt to anchor myself.  

“It’s time to tell me how you feel, beloved,” he rasped in my ear, kissing me reverentially again. “I need to know everything—anything—that made you feel uneasy or concerned, and certainly pain. I’d like to help you extrapolate the pain.

“Where did you learn this from?” My tone was demanding.

My ass and thighs were pulsating from the blows. I deserved to know, and now.

I felt him steel beneath me. His breathing went shallow for a while.

“Years of practice, imagination, and finally incredible chemistry with my wife,” he rasped.

I feebly turned to face him and slurred, “Don’t fucking charm me, Ezra. Don’t insult me. Where did you learn about this lifestyle?”

His eyes shifted between mine. I was exhausted, beyond satiated and drained, but my will was still intact. He’d just fucked with me once again and I now wanted answers.

“If I’m going to do this with you, at least have the decency to be honest with me about what it means to you.”

This time, Ezra’s eyes faltered. He nodded briefly before shifting me to turn back around. Then he gathered the scented oiled water in his palms and sprinkled it over the middle of my chest.

“I was introduced to the world of bondage, domination, sadism and masochism in my last year in college after I lost a close friend,” he began with almost an undetectable utter. “I was in a lot of pain, and confused about my locus of control—but I want to make clear that the reason why the ideology of the lifestyle appealed to me had nothing to do with me being broken at the time. I’d just met it at a precarious time when it got my attention. I wasn’t abused as a child or molested. I may have my issues with my parents, but my preference for expressing my sexuality this way was not born from a tragedy in my childhood or adolescence. I was simply lost and indulged my curiosity as a distraction. 

“I knew a man who worked in a library I would frequent off campus. His name was John. He was a middle aged societal castaway. A weirdo most would say. We talked sparingly until one day, my junior year, we hit on the topic of the advancement of alternative sexual cultures. I had to write a paper on the topic, and he sat down and introduced the topic of BDSM, specifically the relationship between dominants and submissives. I was fascinated from the start, but not interested in the practice. What intrigued me more was trying to conjure the visual of John wearing a gas mask and swinging a chain across a woman’s hind parts.” Ezra chuckled and I developed my own visual.

“Well, anyway, I would visit that library on occasion and ran into John. We’d end up talking about some subject matter, as he was of a studious mind—high aptitude, John possessed. But we’d find our way back to the sexual culture. I could tell he had few friends and no confidants, and as a natural listener, I enjoyed absorbing his loquacious nature. He invited me to attend a club with him on several occasions, to which I’d decline.”

“I would, too. John sounds like a freak,” I murmured, my body gradually relaxing.

“Oh, many would say he was, by appearance alone. And then when you mix in his lifestyle, he was a certified freak according to society. But John wasn’t threatening. He was patently clear on his sexual preferences, which was a submissive female slave. He liked the heavier things: chains, electrosex, and high risk equipment. And the subs he would pair with loved them.”

“Crazy,” I breathed, eyes low, but ears open and mind racing.

“For many, yes. Me included. I learned this in my last year at Pepperdine when I finally accepted his invitation.”

“What did you do that first night? Watch John?”

“A little. When things got too crazy for my stomach a woman pulled me aside: a dom-femme, which is a female dominant. She asked me to trust her to introduce me into the dungeon world. I was young and careless, so I did. I was hooked from that first night, but with limits. I didn’t try anything crazy, but encountered bondage and mild spanking that night.”

It was my turn to freeze. “You let a woman spank you?”

“Sure. It’s not as emasculating as you’d think. She knew how far to take it because she was able to identify the dom in me right away. However, in order to be a great dom, you have to walk as a submissive first. It was fun and cathartic at the time. It didn’t heal anything, but it did awaken something.”

I swallowed hard and my eyes blinked successively. “Did you two start a relationship?”

“Romantic?” he snorted then chuckled. “No. Marge was a forty-three-year-old Irish woman with a tenure in endoscopic medicine. I was a barely twenty-two-year-old kid facing a difficult impasse in my life. She had no more use for me than three hours a night at the dungeon, two days a week.”

“So, you two parted ways when you graduated?”

“Yup.” Ezra answered. “Very amicably. We didn’t view each other as necessities, only tools to achieve a goal. We met those goals within months and went on with life.”

“So, since then, have you done all this?” I lifted my heavy arm in the air, referencing the room.

Ezra chuckled again. He pulled me closer into his chest and kissed my head again. “No. This, beloved is the first of its kind, created for you and me.”

Something dawned on me.

“You said you taught classes. What am I missing?”

“Oh, that!” he rasped. “I dabbled in my initial years of traveling, but it wasn’t until I landed in India that I honed my skills, so to speak.”

I turned again in his arms. “You never told me about India,” my tone was accusatory.

I specifically recalled his travel, was blown away by it. India wasn’t one mentioned.

“That’s because India was a miasma of fleshly living. A place where I overindulged in all of my inclinations. The place where I displayed no pride and made a mockery of myself and my God.” His timbre turned low, debasing.

I needed to switch gears. That lowliness wasn’t synonymous with my perception of Ezra’s nature. Finally, we were breaking new ground here. He was revealing things that should’ve been discussed during the stage of us dating. But I wanted him to feel comfortable sharing with me.             

I rested my chin on his buffed chest. Damn, Ezra was a big man! I brushed over his dusted chest, loving the intimate play.

“So, where do I come in at? What do you want for me?” I silently hoped he wouldn’t say he wanted this every night. “I don’t think I’m cut out to give you this often. This…messes with my head too much, Ezra.”

His thick brows bunched. “Did I hurt you out there? This is when we talk about it, Alexis. Everything.” I heard the scolding in his tone.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I don’t know,” I whined. “Of course, you hurt me. That’s the purpose of spanking, isn’t it?”

“Not always or completely.” He scooted up in the large tub, his face tightened and I knew something crazy was coming. “What if I told you I knew you’d like the spankings?”

My lips parted and I studied his face in total disbelief.

“How would you know that? What makes you think I enjoyed a moment of having a man hit me—my husband, no less,” I grated.

“It’s one of those things that is hard to explain, but it has to do with your psychological makeup, your mental flexibility, temperament, and pain threshold. It pains me to acknowledge this, but you can withstand a high dosage of pain, Alexis. You thrive in a certain manner when your body is under duress. It can actually be therapeutic for you”—Just as I was about to cuss his ass out for what he was proposing, his voice elevated to speak over me—“
BUT
I’m not into sadism and masochism. It’s not my scene. My psychological training allows me to recognize when someone can benefit from it, but I’m not the type of dominant that relishes that type of play. I can meet your other needs, but I can only get off on a small dose of spanking.”

“What makes you think I need it?” I was now torn between cussing him the fuck out and actually learning something about myself.

“What makes you think it’s an outlandish assessment?”

My face fell. “A man beating on me?” He had to be crazy.

“I’ll never beat you, Alexis. Let’s make that patently clear. I’ll never go further than your butt, pussy, the backs of your thighs, and occasionally your nipples.” A shiver coursed my spine.
What the fuck was that?
His eyes slanted and cheeks rose. “You’re aroused now, kitten, just hearing where I’ll land my bites on your beautiful sienna body,” his voice subterranean low. My heart pounding, and nipples taut against his abdomen. He leveled his eyes with mine. “You enjoyed it once you stayed the course, allowing your mind to stay in the moment. When you retreated, you disconnected from my navigation. You were so turned on that you exploded on my cock practically the moment I rammed into you.”

My breath caught. “Ezra!” I whispered, hopelessly turned on.

“I know, kitten,” he rasped. “You have to trust me to know what you need. You asked earlier what I expect from you. I need for you to trust me. This could be so much fun down here and out in the real world if we can agree to play by the rules. Have you ever orgasmed in public without a soul knowing?” I sucked in my bottom lip as I shook my head no. “You can and will. I will give them to you if you remember the rules I give you down here.” He grabbed me at the ass. “Do you understand, kitten?”

“Yes,” I whispered, mesmerized by the moment we were captured in, and the rest came out without much thought. “Sir. Yes, sir.”

“Good. You did well tonight. Hopefully we can work you up to telling me what didn’t feel good. I need to hear about another sexual fantasy of yours, beloved. I want to make it come true.”

You’ve made many that I never knew I had come true already…

“Okay,” I uttered.

“Okay?” his eyes brightened.

I nodded my head and swallowed again. Then I couldn’t look at him before murmuring, “I like when you come…and in me.”

I held my breath the entire period of silence between us.

Why did I tell him?

“I can show you what it looks like one day,” he whispered while holding my eyes, “seeing me come. Would you like that, kitten?”

Fuck! That was hot!
But I was too embarrassed to show him. I nodded my head, again swallowing the collecting saliva.

“Good. But now, I would like to take you in our bed. I need to feel you one more time and the hour is late. I am going to straighten up down here then we’ll go upstairs for a proper shower before we get into bed. Then I need to rub you down with arnica for your welts.” He shifted to move, and I regrettably allowed him space to leave the tub. “By the way,” he grunted as he lifted himself by his arms. “The basement door has been unlocked, but it’ll be locked from here on out; I know Ms. Remah returns this week. She can’t visit this space; can’t even know it exists. It will be visited and cleaned by only the two of us. I need this to be understood. This room is not for public knowledge. Is that clear, Alexis?”

I blinked my eyes, dazed. “Ms. Remah would kill you and have me committed if she knew about this place. You don’t have to worry about me telling her.”

How long would it be before she found out, seeing that she’d be living here was what I questioned. I chose not to share that. I had enough shit to settle in my mind.

I watched Ezra dry off. Observed his broad back and shoulders that were wider than his narrow hips. His tapered waist and tight ass, all screaming dominance. I’d never seen masculinity like this, never cared to. It reminded me of when we were in Kamigu and he’d walk around our villa stark naked with his cock jutting as though he had no cares in the world. Ezra was comfortable in his skin, far more than I was in mine, which is why I believed he hid my bikini that one time on the beach and had me walk bare to our villa.

Ahhhhhh… Kamigu…and Ezra’s big, cut body.

I could stare at him all day.

Ezra stopped at the doorframe, tossed me a glance over his shoulder and chuckled before leaving out.

Arrogant fucker!

~Ezra~

I jogged down the stairs and dropped my jacket on the bottom of the railing before taking off to the back of the house. I traveled the back stairs, hoping to see Alexis on the way to my office. She was in the kitchen curled over her laptop, invested in her screen. Her wooly hair was down, resting against her back. That visual was unusual and lured me. She never wore her hair down, at least not here. This gave me hope that she was growing more comfortable here. God, I’d hoped so. 

When I kissed the top of her head she didn’t react.

“What has your rapt attention, beloved,” I murmured while collecting strands of her hair in my hands.

That’s when she glanced up at me. Her eyes softened, but in a bashful sense, and she sucked in her top lip.
Kitten, you have to learn to relax around me
. Her eyes darted back to her screen.

“I got an email notification of a new job ad from my Indeed account,” she murmured.

“That’s good news, beloved,” I muttered then sniffed her hair, increasing my aroused state, “or is there more to this story?” my tone dropped.

“No…well, yeah,” she replied flatly. “It’s with your church.
Christ Cares
.” Then she shifted to look at me.

I straightened. “Oh.” That caught my attention, though I didn’t know why I reacted to it as though I was unaware the role was listed. “Which title?”

“Supervisor of Social Services.”

I moved from her and over to the cabinet to retrieve mugs. “I see. However, I fail to understand why it is so perplexing to you.” I headed to the counter for the brewed coffee pot.

Alexis swiveled in her seat to follow my movements in the kitchen. “It’s just weird…you being the pastor and all, having known this job was available, and having an unemployed wife who’s looking for work in the same area. I don’t know.” She sighed, wiping her face with her palms before getting up and padding to the other side of the island to face me.

I turned from the refrigerator, grabbing cream for her. That’s when I noticed she was dressed up. In fact she was wearing the same clothes she wore that day at
Frankies Spuntino
when she showed up plastered. The ensemble was fresh today, and so was the distasteful memory.

“You have an interview today?” I asked after adding a teaspoon of sugar to my coffee, still paying her delicious body scrutiny, particularly around her waist.

Scanning that area immediately brought to mind the zebra-like stretch marks on her hips that I enjoyed tasting, one by one.  She was breathtaking. My mind then traveled to stripping her naked and laying her across the marble countertop to devour her.

Alexis nodded then scooped her hair up in a hand-held ponytail before releasing it again. She exhaled, belabored while doing it, her eyes closed. “In Passaic. I have to be there in an hour. Then I have to head over the bridge to my place—I mean,” She straightened and shook herself, frustrated by that minor slip, “my old apartment to get some of Ms. Remah’s things so I can finish up her place.” Then her face wrinkled. “You’re drinking coffee?”

I nodded before taking a sip, while observing her unease. Alexis was stressed and no matter how many times or ways I’ve asked her not to be, she still held the burden of being unemployed.

“I had a rough night last night. Couldn’t sleep.” I could see over the rim of my coffee mug her jaw drop at that information. I didn’t want to talk about my issues of troubled sleep. It came with my calling. I figure, now that I’m married, I’d just have to find a way to keep quiet and still until it passed over. Last night, in between strange visions and praying about them, I found myself studying the virtuousness in her sleeping pose. The muscles surrounding her eyes relaxed as she slept on her stomach, and lips parted. The visual caused me to  wonder why she wanted me to stay in bed until she woke in the morning, something I’d still been trying to settle in my mind. I couldn’t disclose the details of last night. I rose from bed at my usual time to run and meditate, and was now feeling the need of an energy booster. “She returns tomorrow.” I decided to detour from that topic now that I was reminded of Ms. Remah’s return.

“Yeah,” Alexis muttered as she blinked, catching my navigation, “and I want to make sure her things are all there and go pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy while I’m in the area.”

I nodded again. “Very well.” I placed the mug in the sink. “Are you considering applying for the position at
Christ Cares
?” I hid my eyes to remove any pressure, though I hoped she’d give an easy yes.

“Ummm…” she turned back for the laptop. “I don’t know. I doubt it.” That’s when I pivoted to face her. “It’s just too close to home, you know? I mean, with you being the pastor and all, and us doing this.” Her hand motioned between the two of us.

“Doing what, beloved?” I goaded, but was just as curious.

“You know…marrying for…unconventional reasons and all.”

“But we’re married. Legally bonded and with covenant.”

“Yeah!” she spoke adamantly. “Our own rules. The church doesn’t need to be involved in our charade, Ezra.”

That widened my face, taking me aback. “Beloved, no matter how avant-garde our path, we are very much legitimate. You belong to me now and are mine to care for and push toward your goals and endeavors. If you’re not qualified for such a role I’ll understand—”

“Oh, I qualify!” she snapped.

I nodded. “Well, there we have it. You’ve been aggressive in your job search. I don’t see why you’d waver here.” I left my kitten standing there with building aggression at my challenging her.

I had to leave. Not only did I not want to push too hard only to have her rebelliously decline the application, but I had an urgent meeting I couldn’t delay.

I pulled up to the corner coffee shop in Closter just before nine a.m. As soon as I entered, I saw him sitting in the corner, near the large back glass window. His sweat suit’s hood covered his head as he gazed desolately outside. His brawny athletic frame hidden beneath the grey sports gear.

As I ambled over to him, he turned toward me. His eyes softened and he stood, removing his hood.

“Ezra!” he announced with more cheer than his posture told of just moments before. We shook hands and then I grabbed him into a hug. “Good to see you, man.”

I could sense them. Each burden he carried clung to him like a weight. My chest tightened at the recognition. I released then grabbed him at arm’s length.

“Do we need to resume our session? When I discharged you it was because you’d met your treatment goals and could function independent of guidance.” I needed to be sure.

He snorted, bringing my attention to his growing beard. I hadn’t seen him since my wedding day, and while it was apparent he was in optimal shape, his countenance was dismal.

“E, man, you know how it goes. Sometimes you have your good days and others you have your not so good days. Ain’t nothing I’m not managing and giving over to God through prayer and fasting.” He cracked a wry smile. “Have a seat, man. You’re looking debonair as usual. Your swag turned up a few notches. Is that what marriage does to you?” He chuckled, jeering at me.

I couldn’t help my unexpected leer. The mere thought of Alexis did that to me. She’d been coming around. And for that, I was a satisfied man.

“That and makes you reconsider every thought before it becomes an action.” It was my turn to chuckle.

“I hear that, man. It’s a beautiful thing, and you deserve it. You’ve held out long enough. I thought you’d be like your boy, Bishop Jones, and never marry.”

“Bishop has been married,” I corrected.

“Really?” His expression turned quizzical. “I thought he was like Paul and opted for singlehood and ministry.”

“No,” I scoffed as I shook my head. “That has been his preference for around twenty years since divorcing, but he has children by his wife, whom are older than you.”

“Wow?” his eyes stretched. “I know the ladies love him. I’ve seen him out at functions. He’s a magnet out there!” We laughed together.

Bishop Jones has made it clear to me over the years that he prefers being single. I never challenged him on it. I would, however, tease him from time to time. I, too, knew the women loved him. At sixty-five years old, he was more vibrant than men half his age, and kept in great shape. The man still had a six-pack. He was regimented in diet and mild exercise. I guess younger parishioners like Trent here were drawn to that vivacious nature Bishop exuded. It was well known how close we’d been over the years.

“Yeah. The ladies love Bishop,” I replied drily.

“Y’all need to pass that over here. You’re now married, he don’t want to get married: I thought light-skinned dudes were coming back in style,” he joked.

“I’ve been hearing that conjecture for years. You guys stopped reigning in the nineties. It’s now our time, T.B.” We laughed in unison at that one, too. When I was able to come down, I tried calming for my purpose of asking him to meet this morning. “You know there’s a reason I called you out here this morning.”

Trent’s palms flashed open over the table. “I was curious as to why. I understand you’re still on leave from the church.”

I nodded. “Have only a few more weeks to go and couldn’t wait that long to pull you aside.”

The waiter came over to take our order. Trent declined, explaining he was fasting. I didn’t particularly want anything, but ordered tea to patronize the place.

When he left, I got right to it.

“Trent, I had a rough night of sleep last night. It started off with a nightmare of sorts. I was in the wilderness, at night with nothing but a flashlight. It was cold, woodsy, endless, and quite frightening, considering I was alone. I could hear the echoing of steps behind each one I made. I knew the sounds were not from mine; they were louder, almost from a big creature creeping up on me. But no matter how many times I would turn and flash my light behind and around me, I couldn’t find anything. I heard the howling of wolves, flapping wings of fowls, and the cries and movements of various reptiles.”

Trent drew closer to me over the table, clearly giving me his full attention.

“I was tired and hungry, and while that was to be expected and didn’t trouble me, what did was my state of dismay. I didn’t think I’d ever leave that wilderness. I’d been walking for miles—days! I couldn’t identify where I was, only why I was there. The worst part of it all was I didn’t know how long I’d be there. So discouraged, at one point I dropped to my knees to pray—to beg God, actually, to save me. I needed rescuing or I’d certainly be devoured by wildlife. I prayed for an unknown, yet long period of time. When I came up, it was still pitch black and I’d lost my flashlight. I was ready to give up. To surrender my will to live right there.”

Trent’s eyes glossed over and he swallowed hard.

“The moment I made the decision to succumb to my destiny in the wilderness, I heard a commanding utterance. “
When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you. And will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you. And will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile
.” That declaration—that promise restored just enough energy in me to walk again,” I continued.