Cardinal's Rule (14 page)

When she finally lifted her head she found she had trouble catching her breath. “If you fuck half as good as you kiss, you might find yourself getting laid by a woman on a regular basis, gay or not.”

He stroked her back. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

She nodded.

“Did he leave you with triggers set?”

Her face reddened and she tried to stand, but he wouldn’t let her. “Tilly, please,” he said. “Tell me.”

“Why should I?” Her heart raced.
This was a bad, baaaad idea.

“I promise I won’t exploit them. Please?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I knew I could have had Ross get rid of them for me,” she

whispered, “but I didn’t have the heart to.” It surprised her when she broke down crying.

It surprised her even more when she let Landry draw her close, comforting, holding her,

soothing her. “Is that why you never dated?”

“No,” she sniffled. “I never met anyone worth dating before Bob.” She didn’t want to think

about Bob now. She felt badly about him, because he would, undoubtedly, be hurt by this turn of events. Especially now that she sensed she was uncomfortably slipping into unknown emotional territory with Landry. “I mean, I knew it wouldn’t stop me from being with anyone else, but…” She sniffled again.

He continued gently stroking her back. “It hurt more to get rid of them than to let them lay dormant,” he quietly said.

“Yeah.” She lifted her head. “How’d you know?”

He sadly smiled. “How do you think Cris learned to place them? He said the same thing when

he returned. I think that’s partly why he became a Dom, because he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else topping him without them changing or eliminating his triggers first. He knew because of the way he is that they would have to use triggers on him when playing.”

He had her lay on the couch, her head in his lap, and close her eyes. His voice soothed her, no doubt about it. “Did he use French?” Landry asked.

She nodded, then another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “He learned that from you,

too.”

“
Oui, ma cherie
.”

She laughed.

“Shh.” He stroked her forehead and softly spoke to her. She did trust him not to go back on his word, to not take advantage of her. She let him lead her not into subspace, but into a light trance where she relaxed and let go of her tension under his gentle guidance.

When he started to remove her long-dormant triggers, her pulse suddenly raced, panic setting in. She grabbed his hand as she broke into full consciousness. “No, wait. Stop. I can’t.” She started crying. “Don’t do it. Please don’t do it!”

He quickly gathered her close and held her. “It’s all right, love,” he soothed as she sobbed against him. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay.”

She didn’t want to move. As stupid as she knew it was, she felt safe in his arms. Just more

wishful thinking on her part? She didn’t know. That’s when an idea hit. “Set your own,” she said.

“Anchor me to you.”

* * * *

Landry was glad she had her face buried against his shoulder and couldn’t see the shocked

expression he knew he wore. “What?” He couldn’t have heard her right.

“Set your own triggers for me. Leave his and set your own.”

His hand faltered as he stroked her hair. It wouldn’t be difficult. In someone who’d never gone through the process, who wasn’t used to hypnosis and trances and subspace, it usually took a while to accomplish after a bond of trust was established. But she already had triggers.

Deeply engrained ones.

Most people going through what she went though would eventually release them naturally on

their own. Yet she still loved Cris. If she’d dated and had relationships with others, her triggers would have faded as she fell in love.

“Why?”

“I’m marrying you.” She poked him in the arm without lifting her face from his shoulder. “This doesn’t mean you can top me like a Dom. But maybe it’ll make Monday night easier on both of us if you use triggers.”

She had a valid point. “How much French do you know?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “
Je crois toi.
”

I trust you.

It both warmed his heart and scared the crap out of him. He’d fucked up the first time with Cris.

She’d been through so much, he didn’t want that responsibility with her, didn’t want to destroy what little love and faith remained in her. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“
Je parle un peu francais.
Not as much as you or Cris, I’m sure.”

He smiled. “Smartass.”

“
Oui, monsieur
.”

He had to hand it to her, her pronunciation sounded spot-on. Cris was mistaken for a native

speaker when he took him to France, and if he’d taught her, it made sense she’d learned the same 

accent. She had a good ear. No wonder she’d picked up on his accent, even though most people couldn’t tell he had one. He’d worked damn hard to sound like an American.

“Lie down.”

She settled in again, tightly gripping his hand, their fingers laced together. He took her back down into a trance and slowly started working with her, her grip on his hand relaxing as her trance state deepened. He gently stepped around what Cris had done, triggers still embedded unbelievably deep in her mind.

Cris had learned well.

Landry had eagerly studied first NLP, and then later hypnosis, when introduced to it by another Dom before he met Cris. In his youthful egotism, he’d used Cris as his guinea pig with mind-blowing results for both of them.

He shoved those memories out of his mind as he worked with her. She wasn’t lying about

trusting him. Considering her past, if she hadn’t trusted him no way would she let him move through her mind like this.

He kept it simple, a few basic things that might make Monday night go more smoothly for both of them. And yet, that guilty pang. Would she want him for him, or because he’d made it easy for her to let go and relax with hypnosis?

Or because she would be handsomely compensated?

He squeezed her hand as he set the triggers, eventually bringing her back up to full conscious.

She lay there, staring up at him with those sweet hazel eyes. He stood, then scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom despite her laughing protests.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to test them, don’t I?” He kissed her, silencing her as she tightened her grip around his neck.

He gently placed her on her bed and climbed in with her, laying on her right, propped up on one arm. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

Her lower lip had caught under her teeth, betraying her nerves. Her eyes dropped closed.

With a feather-light touch, he trailed his fingers up her left arm. “You’re beautiful, love,” he whispered.

Her body started relaxing under his touch even as her sexual tension ramped up. Her face

flushed as her breath quickened.

He drew his fingers down her arm again and laced them through hers. Gently, he guided her

hand over her flat tummy to the waistband of her jeans.

He nuzzled her forehead, his lips brushing her flesh. “Open them,” he whispered.

Loosening his grip so she could free her hand, she did, unbuttoning them and lowering the

zipper. He felt the slight nervous tremor in her hand before he released it.

“Very good,” he softly cooed. “That’s my very good girl. My very beautiful girl.” He kissed her forehead and prayed she didn’t feel his painful erection pressing against her thigh. He could fuck her right this second except they needed to talk a little more about that first. Not to mention he didn’t want to take advantage of her in this state. He laced his fingers through hers again. “Keep your eyes closed and listen to me.”

He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips even though what he really wanted to do was devour

her, plunge his tongue into her mouth and fuck her with it the way he now wanted to fuck her with his cock. “How long has it been since you last came?”

“Since then.”

He blinked, her answer almost startling him out of his role. He bit back his surprised, “
What
?”

in lieu of a calmer, more controlled response. “No, love. I didn’t mean with Cris. I meant when was the last time you played with yourself?”

“I haven’t. I don’t.”

Part of him wanted to sit up and discuss it right then, because he suspected she wasn’t

understanding him. Part of him felt loathe to break the spell he had her under.

He guided her hand under the waistband of her panties, pleasantly surprised to discover she kept herself shaved. Her breath quickened, shallow, almost gasping.

Nuzzling her ear, he gently nipped the lobe. “Play with yourself for me.”

That’s when her body tensed. “I…can’t.”

“I won’t move my hand, I promise. I’m here with you.”

Slowly, her fingers started stroking her clit as he quietly whispered encouraging words in her ear, coaxing, gently soothing her as her body first relaxed, then filled with a sweet sensual tension he knew signaled she’d really got into it. He slipped his hand down further, enough he could curl two fingers and press them inside her.

She gasped at the feeling, her own hand’s motions quickening as she turned her head toward

him, burying her face against his shoulder.

He switched to French. “Don’t come yet. Be my good girl.”

She softly whimpered as her hips joined the party, rocking and pressing her hand against his as he slowly finger-fucked her wet pussy.

Jesus, she’s soaked!
She was also fucking tight. He’d be shooting off in no time if he didn’t wear a cock ring. He tried to ignore his throbbing erection as his fingers easily slipped in and out of her.

After a few minutes she’d totally let go, her hips bucking and rocking as his fingers plunged into her again and again, her body writhing against his as she begged in French for release.

He studied her face. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Her eyelids fluttered open.

“Come now!” he ordered. He pressed his fingers deep inside her, feeling her muscles squeezing him.

He hoped she didn’t hear him groan over the exquisite sensation as she cried out. He pressed his palm against her hand, holding her fingers tight against her clit. “Again!”

Her back arched as she moaned. He leaned in and kissed her, hard, this time letting his tongue do to her what he wished his cock could do to her body. He gathered her to him, tightly holding her she sobbed in his arms. Forcing back his impatience to find out if these were good or bad tears, he waited her out.

As she relaxed, her cries turning to sniffles, he looked down into her eyes and smiled.

When she smiled back, he relaxed, relieved. “Good?”

She nodded, deliberately squirming against his cock. “What about you?”

“What about me?” When she tried to reach down and squeeze him through his pants, he caught

her hand in his and brought her fingers up to his mouth where he sucked them between his lips, laving his tongue over them.

“How about I take care of you?” she asked.

“I don’t need taking care of.”

She snorted, amused. “Um, yeah. Don’t make me ask if that’s a dildo in your pocket or if you’re just happy to see me.”

“I can wait until Monday.”

He wished he’d phrased it differently when a cloud drifted through her expression. “Okay,” she softly said. “Sorry.”

He mentally swore. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She sat up and edged away from him as she wiped her face with her hands. “No, it’s okay. I get it. It’s hard to remember you’re gay when you can blow my fucking mind like that.”

Hooking an arm around her, he pulled her to him, rolling her on top of him. “Maybe I’m not

gay after all.”

Her hands landed on the mattress on either side of his head when he grabbed her. “Then what

the hell are you? You’re not bi, you said so.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m homoflexible. Straight for you.” He reached up and stroked her hair, then cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down to kiss her again. “How do you feel about blow jobs?”

She ground her hips against his, making his cock ache in a good way. “Pretty good, as long as you don’t mind that I’m out of practice.”

He laughed at her playful smirk. “Then feel free to ravish me, Mistress Cardinal.” Her body

tensed again, in a bad way. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice lowered. “Can you please not call me that? At least not like this. Not when we’re

alone together.”

He reached up and stroked her cheek. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“It just feels…weird. She’s not a real person. She’s a job. I don’t want her in our bedroom.”

“Is that another Cardinal rule?”

He loved her cautious, vulnerable smile. “Yeah.”

“What about Monday?”

Her face hardened. “That’s different. That’s me giving him a majorly well deserved
fuck you
ass kicking.”

He pulled her down to him and kissed her. “You said ‘our bedroom.’”

She blushed. “So?”

He smiled and stroked her cheek again. “If we’re going to share a bed, at least let me take you shopping for a new one. A larger one we can comfortably spread out in.”

That broke her funk. She laughed, dropping her head to his chest while he stroked her back.

Then he realized she was creeping south and he let her, lacing his hands behind his head so he could watch her.

Her gaze rose to his as she unfastened his slacks and tugged them down, pleasantly surprised to find he’d gone commando. She never broke contact with his gaze as she slowly stroked his cock with her fingers, slipping his foreskin back and working from sac to head and back again, before swirling her tongue around the tip, flicking the ridge as she explored.

“Oh, fuck!” he breathed.

Torturously slow, he watched as his cock disappeared between her lips, deep into her throat

until all eight inches were encased inside her sweetly hot mouth right up to the very root.