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Authors: Emily Ryan-Davis

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"First, your online security remains iron-clad. Your computer
security person masked your IP address well. Not," he said when she
glanced at him, "that I ever tried to discover your identity. After I
found out, I checked into your security to verify you were sufficiently
protected."

Lauren nodded and returned her attention to art, but she no longer saw
the delicate beauty. She only saw Jacob's indistinct reflection in the
glass-fronted frame. Why hadn't she recognized him when he stood behind her in
front of the motel's glass doors? The details were the same, subtract the
evening wear, add casual denim.

"When?" She asked, needing to know.

"You called me. As soon as you started talking, I knew, and when you
told me, I--" He stopped himself. "Lauren, please understand I wasn't
looking for someone to replace you as my wife."

She slanted a sidelong look at his face. "Of course not. You've had
no use for me as a lover, but I make a very good wife."

"I wasn't looking for someone to replace you as a lover, either. I
wasn't looking--not when I found Lauren Seacrest in a conference room full of
corporate and personal attorneys, not when I found lost_mermaid on a forum full
of anonymous, fetish-curious users." He pulled his hands from his pockets
and spread them wide. "Lauren, I
wasn't looking
. You blindsided
me."

His raw honesty blindsided
her
. She was unprepared for the depth
of emotion in his words and she was ill-equipped to embrace it. Reaching for a
truth that matched his, she said, "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be
thinking or feeling right now. This isn't what I was looking for, either. Why
did you bring me here to tell me? Why tell me at all? You..." She shook
her head. "
Master
was supposed to walk away and not look
back."

"I brought you here to show you you're not alone and to ensure you
have safe options if you decide to pursue submission on your own." He came
to a full stop, but his level gaze held an unspoken question mark.
"Elizabeth's events are always well-screened and safety is strictly
enforced."

"Thank you. That's very thoughtful, as I'm not sure what other
option I have except on my own."

He made a sound low in his throat. "You have options."

Maybe she did, but she wanted him to say the words. Wouldn't believe them
until she heard them spoken in his voice, of his will and desire. But she
wouldn't beg for them. She would beg for many things and derive pleasure from
the abasement, but not for this. Shoulders straight, head unbowed, she waited.

He stared back at her, naked emotion darkening his eyes, silently
pleading for mercy, but she had none. All the years he'd refused to give her
the smallest chance--these minutes were nothing in comparison but he had to
suffer them regardless. He had to experience the helplessness of waiting, the
humiliation of asking. Just like her.

"Damn it, Lauren." His growl broke the quiet sooner than she
expected. The sound of it made her flinch, a response that rolled into a shiver
when he straightened and stalked across the room. The determined, powerful
businessman to whom she was married became the knowing, masterful lover to whom
she'd submitted. Any thought of making him suffer fled. She reflexively lowered
her gaze, a deference she'd afforded him whether he was
Jacob
or
Master
,
but he rejected her gesture.

Sandwiching her face between his hands, he forced her to look at him.
Lauren trembled under the heat in his eyes, which locked with hers and pinned
her in place. "You have options. You have me. Be
mine
. Belong to
me
."

"We live on different continents," she whispered.

"We'll address that."

"We..."

"What?" He stroked his thumb across her bottom lip.

"Don't love each other."

His eyes darkened. "Don't presume my emotions, little mermaid."

The switch from their distant marriage to their very close anonymous
relationship should have been enough to settle her but her uncertainty grew.
She tugged against his hold on her wrists. "I'm not presuming anything. I
have years of evidence. I understand. You didn't want a wife--didn't want
me
as a wife. I didn't expect you to love me. I don't expect it now. But I
want
it. Love. I want love. Please let me go so I can find it."

While she watched, the emotion vanished from his face, replaced by a
blankness that was painful for her to see. She immediately wanted to retract
the words, tell him she didn't mean them, but Jacob didn't give her the chance.
He released her wrists and lowered his arms to his sides. "You know I
would never stop you from pursuing happiness."

"I'm...thank you." She forced herself to turn away. Walking
away from him felt like climbing a mountain with thick mud sucking at her feet.
But she did it. She walked away. She made it to the door, her hand on the knob,
when he stopped her.

"Where are you going to look?"

She closed her eyes. "I don't know. I thought I had a plan but you
were waiting for me when I got home and I haven't been able to think straight
since. I can't decide anything right now. I can't trust myself to make good
decisions."

Jacob didn't move but the pressure in the room shifted. The change
manifested as heat along her spine and tightness at the nape of her neck.

"Take a breath, Lauren." His soft voice hummed with command.
"Stop thinking."

Her entire body responded to his tone. Exhaling slowly, she blew out all
the fear and uncertainty and objections and allowed him to take over.

"Have you been practicing your positions?"

She slid into the role easily, without conscious thought. Abandoning the
door, she turned to face him--hands clasped at the small of her back, shoulders
straight and loose, knees soft. "Yes, Sir."

Jacob gave her an approving nod. "Show me how you kneel."

As Master, Jacob had introduced her to the submissive positions. She'd
studied diagrams and photographs and online videos, and practiced, until she
knew the motions by heart. She could perform them in her sleep, and sometimes
relied upon the meditative exercise to help her defeat insomnia. High heels, a
cocktail dress, and the weight of his gaze added up to an imperfect execution
but as she sank to the floor, tucked her calves beneath her bottom and pointed
her toes, the sense of peace and security gained strength.

Jacob crossed to stand in front and above her. "Is your mind calm
now?"

"Yes, Sir."

Crouching, he touched her face and tipped her chin until her gaze met
his. "I want you. I know you. I love you. I came after you not to return
your ring but to place it back on your finger. To claim you as mine. Do you
want me to rescind my claim?"

Throat tight, she shook her head. "No, Sir."

"I'm going to kiss you," he said. "Face to face, full
disclosure of identity, full declaration of intent. Don't close your
eyes."

Heart pounding loudly in her ears, she parted her lips and watched him
and waited. There was nothing neutral about Jacob when he leaned in and took
her mouth. Nothing flat in his expression, nothing cold in his eyes. Nothing
but her reflection in his pupils and, behind that, desire.

This was where she wanted to be.

His
was who she wanted to be.

 

 

About the Author

 

Emily Ryan-Davis is a lifelong East Coaster whose passion for the written
word saw her through jobs writing obituaries, press releases and grants before
she decided "I'm going to do this" and sat down to write a book. She
made that decision in 2005 and has since published several short stories and
novellas with digital publishers including Ellora's Cave. On May 24, 2012,
Emily left supervisors and payrolls behind in order to focus her efforts on writing
and raising her son.

Emily has been a member of the Writer's Digest-recognized writing
community Romance Divas, where she volunteers as a moderator and organizes the
annual "Not Going to Conference" Virtual Conference, since 2006.

Emily enjoys connecting with readers. Find her online at
http://www.emilyryandavis.com/

 

Coming Soon

 

Return to eXclave in April 2013

Lauren's submission was just the beginning.

 

 

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