Authors: KB Alan
She took a deep breath and tried to find her center, but she was too excited, too nervous. It took tremendous control, but she managed to keep her eyes forward, head angled down slightly, rather than look to the door. There was a rattle and thump, and she knew he was putting his gun in the lock box in the closet.
His steps came closer and she had to grip the rail on the back of the chair to keep still. She held back a wince at the twinge of pain it caused, having already forgotten that she’d wrenched her wrist at work that day. If she let him know she had hurt it, she was afraid Drew would stop the scene and she was so not good with that idea. Tonight was about going full throttle and showing Drew everything he had with her, everything he would be missing while she was gone. Everything he would be missing if he decided not to take her back when she returned.
She clenched her jaw, pulling her thoughts back to the moment. Staying focused was key. At least until she could lose herself in subspace. But to do that, she would have to give up the very focus she was striving to maintain and she wasn’t sure she could do that and keep her plan moving forward. Her thoughts stuttered to a halt when Drew’s finger touched her chin, lifted her face to let her know she should meet his gaze.
Whatever he saw, he wasn’t letting on what his thoughts were. She focused on his nose, on drawing in long, steady breaths, on the smell of dinner that was going to have her stomach growling soon if she wasn’t able to dig in.
“You make a lovely surprise.”
His voice sounded gruff, letting her know she’d probably achieved the reaction she was hoping for. She stopped looking at his nose and met his eyes.
“I wanted to give you a going away present.”
“Thank you.”
He leaned down and kissed her and she finally began to relax. When he broke the kiss, he leaned over to look behind her.
“Tell me those are the kind of cuffs you can open yourself,” he said sternly.
“They are.” She managed not to roll her eyes, even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“Good.” He sat in the chair next to her and brought the wineglass to her lips. The small taste was good, but she was looking forward to much better things. He took his own drink, then forked off a piece of the salmon. Scooping it up along with a portion of the salad, he gave himself the bite, his eyes steady on hers so that she was able to see the pleasure he took in the food she'd made.
“This is delicious.”
“I'm glad you like it.” He put together another forkful and fed it to her. The fish was cooked perfectly and was complemented by all of the flavors of the salad. Pleased that he was enjoying it, she relaxed. He asked her about her finals, told her about his day and worked their way through the whole meal and two glasses of the wine, until she was stuffed full. After the last bite, he kissed her. Slow, lingering, devastatingly sexy, he told her without words how much he appreciated her efforts.
Long before she was ready, he pulled back and rose. “Did you plan anything for dessert?” he asked, picking up their dishes and carrying them to the kitchen.
She gave him a huge smile. “Only me.”
“Mmm, my favorite.” He cocked his head. “I just have to decide how best to prepare this evening’s sweet thing.”
She smiled until he told her to close her eyes. Her surprise at the direction had her taking too long to answer apparently, because he said, very quietly but in a tone that left her no doubt about his meaning, “Emma.”
Annoyed with herself for missing the order, she closed her eyes. “I'm sorry, Sir.”
He didn’t respond and she was only able to catch small sounds that gave her no clues as to his actions. For a long stretch, there was nothing. Then, though there were no sounds, she was suddenly sure that he was standing directly in front of her. Somehow, just the knowledge of his presence, of his regard, made her less nervous but more anxious. She wanted him, as she always did. Wanted to please him, give him her body and her submission, as she always did. Wanted to experience the pleasure she knew he would give her, that he always gave.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that their reality was awesome. She needed to focus on this, this moment, when she was away from him and not let her worries overwhelm her. If he didn’t appreciate how great what they had was, there wasn’t really anything she would be able to do to change that. In her heart, she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t realize that himself.
The light touch to her nose surprised her but she didn’t react. He traced her lips, then pushed his way inside. She opened for him, accepted him, swirling her tongue around his finger, sucking, grateful for the point of contact that he was giving her. He pulled free, but she didn’t want to let him go, following, pushing forward against the chair. Her sore wrist pulled against the cuffs uncomfortably and she forced her shoulders back to ease the tension. Drew’s finger disappeared completely.
“Open your eyes, Emma.”
His expression was stern. Was he annoyed she hadn’t let his finger escape easily? She thought to apologize, but then wasn’t sure she should speak.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She blinked, not sure how to answer. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You were in pain.”
“I’m fine.” She was not going to let tonight get derailed over a little sprain.
“If nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t be in pain. Tell me what the problem is.”
She shook her head, wanting to get past the interruption and back to what he’d started. “There’s no problem, Drew, I’m fine.”
The concern on his face morphed into the stern Dom look that told her she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to be doing. She tried to think how she could assure him better that she was fine, but he didn’t give her a chance.
“Emma. I didn’t ask you if you wanted to tell me what was wrong, I told you to tell me. You still haven’t done so. Do you think that is acceptable? You cuffed yourself to that chair, I was under the impression we were in an active scene, not just sharing a meal.”
“Yes…I mean no…I mean, yes, we’re in a scene and no, it wasn’t acceptable. I’m sorry, Sir, I just…I’m fine. I strained my wrist at work, but Richard said it wasn’t bad when he wrapped it up.”
He didn’t say anything and she thought it might be best to stay quiet. What he did do, which had her heart sinking, was go around the chair and open the cuffs.
“You went to a doctor, who wrapped your wrist, and not only did you not think it important to share that with me, you refused to tell me about it when I asked you straight out.”
Oh shit. It hadn’t really seemed like that as it was happening, but she supposed she could see his side of it. Again, he didn’t give her a chance to respond.
“You’ve been in the lifestyle long enough to know that you should tell me if you have any changes in your physical condition. Am I wrong?”
“No, Sir.” She just hadn’t really thought about it like that.
“And you most certainly know better than to lie to me.”
Her eyes went wide at that. “I didn’t lie to you!” she cried out with a little too much vehemence, going by his reaction. His eyes went frosty.
“No?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
She pulled in a breath, tried to sound calm. “No. I am fine. I don’t feel it at all right now.”
“When did Richard wrap it?” he asked.
“Um, about four hours ago.”
“It seems unlikely to me that he wrapped it and told you to only keep it on for a couple of hours.”
Since he hadn’t asked a question she figured it might be best to not respond.
“You took it off so that I wouldn’t see it. You didn’t tell me about it before starting a scene. And here’s the kicker, Emma, and I hope you’re listening closely because you seem to be having a hard time with this, you didn’t tell me when I specifically asked you to.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
She’d been so caught up in making tonight go perfectly, she’d paid no attention at all to the injury. Well, that wasn’t even true. Obviously she’d thought about it enough to make the unconscious decision to keep it from Drew, or she wouldn’t have taken off the bandage or tried to shrug him off when he was asking her about it.
Shit.
She closed her eyes, the realization of what she was doing draining all the energy out of her. In addition to what he’d said, she’d been trying to control the scene. To control Drew and his reactions to her.
“I’m sorry, Drew. You’re right. I screwed up. I was trying to control the scene. I promise you, though, I didn’t realize I was doing it. It wasn’t on purpose.” She opened her eyes and gave him her, as real and honest as she could show.
He watched her for a moment, then pulled his chair back out, sat.
“Why?”
“I-I wanted tonight to be perfect. Amazing. Memorable.”
His eyebrows went up. “Do you think I’ll forget you in two weeks?” The pure incredulousness in his voice went a long way to making her feel better. And foolish.
“Not forget me. But maybe forget how good we can be together.”
He sighed, scraped his hands over his face. “Emma, I don’t think that would happen in two years, let alone two weeks.”
She didn’t say anything to that, just waited for him to decide what he wanted to do.
“Tell me honestly, do you think you should be punished?” he asked.
Her throat felt thick. “Yes, Sir.”
“Obviously tonight is important to you. I’m not going to deny that you have the right to that. So you can decide, get the punishment over with tonight, or wait until you get back. Either way, I will be the one deciding how we proceed with your decision. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Take a few minutes to think about it.” He got up, went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She watched him, trying to figure out the best way to go. On the one hand, she didn’t want to mar their memory of the night with a punishment. On the other hand, it would be hanging over her, over them, through any other scene they did. And throughout her trip. And on her arrival. Until it was done, she’d be in a weird limbo mode.
He sat back down, handed her the water. She took a drink, gave it back, stared at her knees.
“Do you need more time to decide?”
“No, Sir. I’d like to put the punishment behind us tonight.”
“All right.”
****
Drew smiled, knowing Emma couldn’t see as she’d dropped her head and couldn’t be seeing much besides her knees, her posture dejected.
Teasing his thumb under her chin, he lifted slightly until she raised her eyes to his. “That’s good. I’d say you just cut out half your punishment.”
Tears filled her eyes. Because of her mistake? Or because she was being punished for it?
“Why the tears?” he asked gently.
“For disappointing you.”
“No tears then. Show me you trust me to punish you fairly and be done with it.”
She swallowed hard, straightened her shoulders. Offered him a tremulous smile.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth. She didn’t move, didn’t turn in for more. He pulled back. “Tell me what happened with your wrist.”
She nodded. “I was at work and an elderly lady next to me started to slip. I caught her, but I jarred my wrist a bit. It was just an awkward angle. Richard said it would be tender for a few days.”
“All right. Take off your clothes, then go into the living room and wait.”
He picked up the chair that had arms and took it into the living room, then went upstairs and to his dresser, unbuttoned his shirt. He draped it over the top and opened the toy drawer. It had been fun shopping with someone specific in mind, and he’d assumed at some point he would need items specifically for punishment purposes. Including the ball gag he pulled out. Gags were on her club list as “maybe”. He was quite sure she didn’t like them. Next was the vibrator with a suction cup base and clit tickler, which could be used for pleasure, of course, but offered wonderful opportunities for punishment. It was hands-free, perfect for what he had in mind.
Butt plug next. The one he usually used, he passed over immediately. The one he’d used when Toby had visited was a maybe. But he did have a slightly larger one that she’d never experienced before. As his hand hovered between the two, he suddenly realized that he’d plugged her during their scenes with Toby, rather than giving her the double penetration he’d suggested early on. Surprise that he hadn’t really thought about it, hadn’t really realized it, but had unconsciously decided that no, his best friend wouldn’t be fucking Emma, shook him.
Pushing the thought away, he selected the larger size and pocketed a bottle of lube. A handful of restraints and one of his ties, and he was ready. He grabbed the nipple clamps on his way out the door.
When he walked into the living room, she was standing next to the wooden chair, eyes on the floor. His anger was completely gone and he could see that while she was nervous, she was also a little excited. Her nipples had gone flat before, but were starting to bead up again. Her breathing was a little heavy and her thighs squirmed against each other before she realized he’d entered.
“Take a seat on the chair for a second, I want to see something.”
She did so without hesitation. He visually marked where he needed to place the vibrator. Dropping most of the items he carried onto the couch, he turned to face her.
“Stand up.”
When he moved closer, she didn’t raise her head. “Emma, look at me.”
He saw nervous fear mixed with uncertain excitement. Perfect. When he held up the ball gag, she grimaced, but quickly smoothed out her expression. Holding out his other hand, he offered her his tie, indicating that she should take it with her left, unhurt, hand.
“This will be your safe word. I’m not going to hurt you, but you should have it anyway. As long as you’re holding it, I will continue as I see fit. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She made no movement when he lifted the gag, but opened for him easily. He buckled the strap in place and smoothed out her hair, making sure nothing was tangled up painfully.
“All good?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Good.” He brushed her chin. “Don’t move.”