“My dad said that there comes a time when what you want to do is the opposite of what you need to do. And the boys do what they want to do, but the men…” Lance stood up a little straighter. “The men do what they need to do.”
“I see where you get all your annoying nobility from.”
“No, Dad’s one of a kind. He says I’m his hero. I say the same about him.”
“You’re lucky to have a great father, such great parents. Mom and I butted heads from day one. I was my father’s daughter. When I was thirteen, fourteen, I’d run off to Queens any chance I could to see him. I’d take a bus, take the subway, surprise him at his shop. He’d treat me like his little princess, take me to lunch with his friends, then drive me home. He wasn’t a real parent, never disciplined me or anything. Mom did all the work so I hated her and loved him.”
“What happened? I mean, to him and you.”
Nora turned away from the window, the empty house, the memories.
“I got in trouble. Big, bad trouble. My father ran for the hills and left me hanging, even though it was his fault I was in all that trouble. Søren stepped in and took care of me as best as he could. But I wasn’t my father’s little girl anymore. And then Dad was dead, and I didn’t miss him.”
Lance stood in silence and stared at the house.
“I have no regrets about how my life turned out,” Nora said, coming to stand next to him. “But if I could wave a magic wand and grow up with a father as loving and caring and protective as you, I’d wave the hell out of it.”
“You would?”
“In a heartbeat. There are two types of teenage rebellion—the normal kind and the kind that gets you in juvenile detention. Mine was of the latter variety. And I know if I’d had a normal father, a good father, that wouldn’t have been the case.”
“I want to be a good father to my daughter. You know I do.” Lance squeezed her hand before letting it go again.
“When a girl feels abandoned by her dad, she might latch onto an older man who takes an interest in her. Luckily for me, this other man I latched on to took great care of me. He got me out of trouble and kept me out of trouble. It could have just as easily been a sleaze I fell for who knocked me up and left me stranded again. I know a few girls who went down that path.”
Lance rubbed his chin, that half a day’s stubble she found so enticing. But she kept her hands to herself, knowing the next time she touched him would be the last time she touched him.
“I could get my daughter back,” Lance finally said.
“You could. Judge B. sounded pretty optimistic. He knows everyone in family court, has lots of pull. He’ll be able to help you.”
“I’m grateful to him. It’s just…” Lance turned and looked at her and in his dark blue eyes, she saw the road they’d never take, not together anyway. And it would have been a lovely stroll down that road. The entire Underground would have turned out for the party when their infamous Mistress Nora finally settled down and put a collar on a sub. The women would swoon over handsome, noble, chivalrous Lance and the men would admire him for being man enough to take her on. She could see the mornings ahead of them: the breakfasts Lance would serve to her in bed, the tea he’d bring to her office while she worked on a book, the neck rubs he’d give her when she spent too much time sitting at her desk or too long flogging a client. She could imagine how devastatingly debonair Lance would look in a tuxedo when they attended a formal party at Kingsley’s or a special event her publisher hosted. And the nights…all those nights in bed with Lance serving her every sexual whim and Nora treating him to his every desire… They could live a lifetime of good nights together. He could give her everything she wanted. She could give him everything he needed. And no one could take that away from them.
“I have to do what I need to do,” Lance said at last. “Even if it’s not what I want to do.”
“One last good night?” Nora offered. It was all she had to give.
Lance nodded instead of speaking. They drove in silence to her house and in silence they entered it. In silence they kissed and in silence she led him to the bedroom.
All night long he lavished attention on her body. He spent an hour kissing and teasing her breasts. She spent another hour beating him black and blue with her floggers, single-tails, and canes. For his sake, she wanted to leave him with bruises that would last for weeks. For her sake, she wanted to know that he would carry the imprint of their time together on his body. She tied him down and rode him until she’d exhausted herself and him with orgasms. Then they slept…but only for a while.
Nora awoke in the hour before dawn. She stared at Lance’s sleeping form. Of all the men she’d let in this bed none looked more right in it than Lance. A mix of moonlight and streetlight snuck into the room and revealed the welts and bruises that decorated Lance’s broad, muscled back.
Willpower alone kept her from kissing one beautiful and blackening bruise under his shoulder blade. Instead of touching him or kissing him, she pulled away and tiptoed to her closet. She slipped into a sheer black negligee she’d bought months ago but hadn’t worn yet. Why not? No better time than now. Now was all they had. But she wasn’t finished digging yet. Somewhere in this mess of a walk-in closet…she knew it was here…yes. She found it. The black velvet bag she’d hidden away.
From the top of her closet, she pulled down a candle box and a lighter. As Lance slept she lit six of the candles and set them about the room. She had no plans for wax-play unless he asked her for it. She merely wanted to see his body by candlelight for the first and last time.
At last she had the room ready. Sunrise was still an hour away.
Standing at the side of the bed Nora paused, picked up a candle, and bent forward. Her lips touched Lance’s shoulder the second the hot wax landed on his back.
Lance twitched and came awake in an instant and sat up. Panting from the shock of the painful awakening, he stared at Nora and said nothing, waiting like a well-trained soldier for the next command.
Nora only stared at him for a moment, at the veins in his forearms, the lines of lean muscle in his stomach and chest, the scattering of scars that only added to his allure. She set the candle back on the table. She picked up the black velvet bag, opened the silver drawstring and pulled out a heavy leather collar.
Lance looked down at the collar and then back at her with a question in his eyes. Nora turned it in her hand, tilting it toward the light.
“There’s this Israeli leatherworker that Kingsley knows. He makes all of Kingsley’s whips and floggers. Old guy. Probably knew Moses. Anyway…” Nora traced the ornate silver buckle on the back of the collar. “He had this with him last time he was at Kingsley’s. I bought it. One of those love-at-first-sight, impulse buys.” She smiled at Lance who seemed to be barely breathing now. Nora’s words, although whispered, seemed to echo off the walls. “The craftsmanship is incredible. See the grooves on it? It’s engraved. He said it’s the Hebrew words for protector. Provider. Slave. He’s a romantic old soul. I didn’t have anyone in mind when I bought it. I just wanted it.”
“Why?” Lance asked, still staring at the collar but not touching it.
“I don’t know. Why do girls who don’t have boyfriends buy bridal magazines? They buy them to dream, I guess. Even dominatrixes have dreams.”
“I wish I could make your dreams come true, Mistress.”
“You can. For an hour maybe. Dreams don’t last long. They don’t even last the whole night.”
“How? I’ll do anything.”
“Wear this for me. Accept it. Be mine until morning since that’s all we have left.”
“It’s not enough time.”
“How much would be enough?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “The longer we put this off, the more it will hurt, the more people who will know about us. You know she’s more important to you than I am. You know she has to be.”
Lance nodded reluctantly.
Nora unbuckled the lock on the collar.
“Until dawn?” she asked. “Just until then?”
“Yes. Better an hour in paradise than a lifetime outside the walls.”
“Come inside,” she said and raised the collar.
“Are you sure? You shouldn’t waste something—”
She laid her hand on the side of his face and caressed his stubble with her thumb.
“The night we met you gave the bartender a ten-dollar tip for seven dollars’ worth of beer at a club where the alcohol is free and the only guys who tip the server are trying to get her in bed which you weren’t. Yes, I’m sure. And no, it’s not a waste.”
Lance raised no more objections. He leaned forward and rested his forehead head on her shoulder. Nora locked the collar around his neck and he sat up straight again. As she knew it would, it fit Lance perfectly. Never in her twelve years in the Underground had she seen a more handsome collared sub. The collar drew attention to the muscles in his shoulders and his powerful neck. He looked stronger in it, not weaker, more manly, not less.
“You’re mine.” She kissed his lips. “My property. My possession. My slave and servant. My knight and my protector.”
“Yours,” he said and seemingly could say no more.
Nora placed her hands on either side of his neck, feeling his pulse beating against the leather collar.
“Make love to me any way you want. Whatever your fantasy is, whatever your dream, live it with me now. Don’t worry if I’ll like it or not, because I’m with you. I know I’ll love it.”
Lance slid out of the bed and stood behind her. He pressed his naked body against her back. Nora’s hips were flush with the bed. Against her lower back she felt his erection, impossibly hard and thick. He kissed the side of her neck and the leather of the collar scraped her skin, a sensation so surprising and erotic that chills passed through her all the way to her feet. For one brief moment, she thought of Søren. Had he relished the feel of her collar on his shoulder or chest as she lay under him? Did he miss it now that she no longer wore it?
Lance’s hands on her breasts sent thoughts of all other men scattering. He cupped them through the thin fabric of her negligee and her nipples hardened, puckering against his fingers.
“Standing?” she asked as he slid the straps of her gown down her arms, baring her breasts. “From behind? That’s the fantasy?” She wasn’t disappointed or displeased, merely curious why he’d chosen this way for their last time together.
He kissed her earlobe as he pinched her nipples, waves of pleasure shooting into her stomach.
“Standing so I can protect you.” He ran a hand through her long hair and shoved a fistful of it off the back of her neck. “From behind so I can shield you.”
She understood at once what he meant. If someone broke into the house while they were making love, Lance’s body would stand between her and the intruder at the door. Even during sex he would keep her safe or die trying.
Lance kissed the back of her neck, kissed his way down her spine. Kneeling, he caressed the back of her thighs with his mouth. He lifted her gown and kissed her bottom, back, and hips. Slipping a hand between her legs, he spread her folds with his fingertips, teased the taut knot of her clitoris, and she dampened against his hand.
He stood again and pressed his whole body into hers. She parted her thighs wider as he angled himself against her inner lips. He didn’t enter her at first, simply sliding along the length of her opening as she bathed him in her wetness and need.
She clutched at the sheets as he lifted his hips and thrust up and into her. Their bodies merged seamlessly as he sank deeper and deeper into her wet warmth. Lance’s hot breath scalded her skin as he pushed into her with endless patience and controlled force. One strong hand held her naked hip. The heel of his other hand pushed into her belly creating delicious pressure in her entire pelvic region. The pressure rose in waves, clutching at her insides as she moved with and into Lance’s thrusts.
She felt her body tightening around him. Nora bent over the bed, pushed back, and took him deeper into her. She wanted all of him she could take, all of him she could get.
Lance thrust faster into her, moving with short sharp jabs that she felt in the pit of her stomach as he grasped her swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and massaged it. It should be like this every night…But this would be the last night.
Now she desired nothing more than release. She tensed as Lance wrapped his arm around her chest and held her so close only their hips moved together. With a hoarse cry and a shudder that wracked her whole body, Nora came hard, her vaginal muscles latching onto Lance still moving inside her.
Spent now, she placed her hands on the bed to hold herself steady as Lance pushed into her. He held her by her hips as he moved with long hard strokes that took him almost completely out of her before plunging back into her again. One more thrust and he climaxed, his hands gripping Nora’s hips with viselike force. She hoped he’d leave bruises on her, bruises on her body to match the one on her heart.
He stayed embedded in her long enough for both of them to catch their breath. Finally, he eased out of her and Nora turned to face him. It was done now. It was over. The sun was rising. Their last night together had ended.
She ordered him to shower and he did. She ordered him to get dressed and he did. When she told him to keep the collar, he accepted it with such humble gratitude she had to cover his mouth with her hand to stop him from speaking. If he said one more beautiful thing to her she’d never let him go.
When she ordered him to leave her and not look back…
“I don’t know if I can follow that order,” he said, standing at her door, his hand on the knob.
“You can. You will.”
“I’ll try to find another way,” Lance pledged. “If there’s any way I can come back and still have my daughter, I’ll find it.”
“I know you will,” she said and knew she would never see him again. There was no other way. And even if there was, by the time he found it she would have moved on and so would he. But they cared about each other too much right now to admit the truth that they both knew. “Go get your little lady back. She needs your protection more than I do.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Lance stood a moment on the porch, and it took everything Nora had to keep from crying. “Mistress?”
“What, sailor?”
“This may sound stupid, but this felt like something. You and me, I mean. Something planned. I’m not the only one who felt like this was destiny, right?”
Nora raised her chin and smiled.
“A wise man once told me that destiny doesn’t always play matchmaker,” she said. “Sometimes it plays other games with us. Sometimes we win the game…”
“Sometimes we lose.”
“You know…I’m not the only one of my kind. There are other dommes out there. Some of us don’t even charge for our services.”
“Other Mistress Noras? I don’t believe it.”
“I’m the only Mistress Nora I know and the world says ‘thank God’ to that, but…I’m just saying you only have to play their stupid game until you get your kid back. Then you can date again. You can find another one of us. You’re too good of a sub to waste yourself on some boring vanilla who doesn’t know what she has. Any domme would be honored to have you on her arm, at her feet. You’ll find someone amazing. I know you will.”
“Maybe. Who knows? Destiny might play matchmaker someday. Maybe destiny will get it right next time.”
“I wish…” Nora began and stopped. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say I wish it could be me. But those words would hurt as much to say as they would to hear. She left them safely unsaid, knowing that Lance wasn’t her destiny. She’d already met her destiny and three years ago she’d told her destiny goodbye. She survived it. She would survive this, too.
Lance said nothing more. Nora knew he waited for another kiss, a kiss she couldn’t trust herself to give. So he smiled at her one more time before walking to his car, getting i
n, and driving off. He left as ordered, and as ordered, he didn’t look back.
“Good boy,” she whispered before correcting herself. “Good man.”
Nora watched him go before she shut the door, locked it, and returned to her bed. It took an hour before she could sleep again, and just as she feared, when she woke up, Lance was gone from her life forever. Such was the nature of dreams. They only feel endless in the dream. By dawn they turn to dust.
For a week, Nora went through the motions of life—sleeping, eating, working, and then starting over again the next day. She had her weekly appointment with Judge B., but they didn’t talk about Lance. She spent the night at Kingsley’s, and he mentioned he’d found a new head of security for his clubs. She visited Natasha at her apartment and found the pretty purpled-haired dominatrix itching to get back to work. The client who had robbed and assaulted her would be charged with everything the DA could throw at him. Nora suggested Natasha come back to work for Kingsley for the sake of safety in numbers. Natasha admitted it wasn’t a bad idea and promised she would think about it.
The Wednesday of that week Nora drove back to Wakefield and attended daily Mass. She didn’t stay to talk to Søren, she didn’t talk to anyone. She sat in the back, stayed kneeling during Communion, and only smiled at him once as she walked out the door of her old church and back again into her new life.
That night Nora found herself back at The 8th Circle bar.
“Okay, Kool-Aid. I got this. Try me.” Nora sipped at her drink and took a deep breath.
“Are you sure about this, Mistress?” Simone laid her hand on Nora’s thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I mean really sure about it?”
“I’m so unbelievably sure right now that I’m stuck to the stool. Just ask me. I’ve got this.”
“If you insist. Here we go… How old are you, Mistress Nora?”
“I am thirty years old.”
“And…how much do you weigh?”
Nora took another deep breath. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Maybe I don’t got this.”
The Last Good Knight (The Original Sinners Pulp Library) Page 13
