For the Love of April French

by Penny Aimes

  No! a part of her screamed, but she remembered her position and swallowed it. “You paid for it, Sir,” she said coolly, knowing that would inflame him.

  “Hm.” She felt his fingers curl around the loose weaving of the skirt, and then drag it up above her hips. His hands trailed over the tight fabric of her underwear; she’d have loved to wear a thong or go commando under a dress like that, but the realities of her situation meant a compression garment was needed. As he peeled them down her legs she groaned in relief as her trapped clit was freed and throbbed in the cool air. He took them all the way down to her ankles and knelt behind her to unwrap the bindings of her heels. As he took them away, she had to balance on her toes to keep her height, and suddenly the suspension wasn’t so funny anymore.

  Dennis smiled when he heard her gasp—not that she could see it—and skimmed his hand up her legs. God, she was smooth. When his hand reached around to her groin, he began to stroke her, and the muscles of her legs flexed, and she whimpered as her weight settled again on the hook and on her arms.

  He didn’t squeeze or pump; just lifted her clit slightly with his fingers and ran one finger back and forth along the underside, where sticky wetness had drooled and spread. She made the most delightful noises.

  “Are you ready for sex tonight?” he asked.

  “I’m ready for anything, Sir,” she said, in a voice that rasped. She flinched at it, and flinched again when he lifted his other hand to her ass and parted her cheeks to begin to lick and tease while he stroked.

  “I—I—oh Christ, Sir—I—please!” she cried out, in no time at all.

  “Hm,” he said, smiling to himself again. “Now I believe you’ve been waiting all this time.” Before he rose, he slid a plug into her, provoking another heartfelt moan.

  He rose and circled back to the front of her and dragged over a bench.

  April watched through hooded eyes as he settled in front of her, looking smooth and unflappable and unbearably smug; the flames in his eyes were banked and under control again, and he lifted the pink silicone vibrator he’d taken down from the shelf. He ran it over her length again and again, first off and then switching it on, stopping when she cried out and resuming once she got herself under control. He put his other hand between her legs, cupping her, and probing the folds of skin below her clit. Feeling for the shallow canal that lay there beneath the skin and gently fingering it as he teased her erection. Twice he pressed the vibrator against the base of the butt plug as he took her into his mouth; she bit her lips savagely and tried frantically not to come, desperate not to make him stop but unable to withstand it. Both times she only lasted a few seconds.

  Time telescoped and warped for her as she dangled at his mercy. This time she didn’t get bored when he stood up and stepped away for a moment; she just floated. He circled in front of her, holding a black flogger. “I haven’t used one of these before,” he admitted. It was a vulnerable thing to say, but her eyes searched his face and posture and saw no fear or insecurity. Only the iron-hard certainty of a powerful dom. “So it’s very important you tell me if it goes too far. Do you understand, doll?”

  Her head bobbed loosely on her neck. She felt like she was a liquid, something delicious and sparkling like champagne. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Yes Sir what?” he said.

  Oh. Um. She focused. “Yes, Sir, I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Red yellow green.”

  “Good girl.”

  Dennis was nervous, but he knew she had done more impact play than him. It would likely be fine, and she would safeword if she needed to. Still, he felt better once he was out of her eye line and could relax his face.

  He trailed the flogger over her shoulders and down her back, letting the tails slither between the ropes of her gown and tickle her sensitized skin. She gasped and giggled and almost fell off her tiptoes again, and that’s when he decided to swat her ass the first time.

  She let out a heartfelt cry that was clearly pleasure, not pain, and he continued to smack the leather over her ass and thighs, sometimes harder, sometimes just letting it flap against her. He thought for a long moment before he snapped it up between her legs. She moaned long and low and dropped as her toes curled, her weight falling on her arms again. He quickly moved forward, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding up her weight until she found her feet again.

  “Th-thank you, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Should I put some slack in the rope?”

  “Maybe just a bench to kneel on?” she asked.

  “Of course, darling.” He kissed the side of her face and pulled the bench over, and also adjusted the rope slightly.

  “Okay,” she said, in a brave, swimmy voice. “Let’s do it.”

  April hadn’t known what to expect; he was a novice when it came to this kind of play, and he might have gone too hard right out of the gate or pulled his strikes too much out of fear. But he was a natural. Of course he was.

  Once she was off her toes, she could really just let go of everything and let the sensation consume her. She had never in her life gotten so close to orgasming from impact play, but six months of denial combined with the intense intimacy of the evening made her feel like every draft or breath of air would push her over.

  As the intensity consumed her, she began to lose sight of her body, the time, the place, as she had with Sandra, unplugging bit by bit. She felt the ghost of the fear of punishment, of Marie and her hateful games, but this time the steady strokes of the flogger and his gentleness gradually dispelled it.

  Dennis stopped once again to check on her, and realized she was far gone in subspace, her head hanging loose on her neck and her weight once again transferring to the rope. He let out a shuddering breath and reached up to unhook the rope, careful not to let her fall off the bench. She hung on to his shoulders and took a few stumbling steps before her eyes fluttered open.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, with mild curiosity.

  “Time to get out of this dress finally, doll,” he said tenderly.

  I love you, he thought, as he’d thought with each stroke of the flogger. He knew he hadn’t said it back yet, but he wasn’t sure this was the time or place. Surely it would mean more separated from sex and kink? But it was all he could think as she languidly allowed him to undress her, as she sank onto the bench, as he unbuttoned his fly and steered her towards his hardness.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  April had reached the point of surrender where she accepted each turn of events placidly. We’re getting undressed? Okay. We’re sucking cock now? Okay.

  More than okay. “You have a great dick,” she said dreamily. “It does good things.”

  When they first got together, she’d been intimidated by the fact that he was uncircumcised; she’d had a lot more experience by now, and she loved the extra sensitivity of his glans. She bobbed and licked and stroked in a timeless haze, stopping a few times to just press against the flesh of his thigh and take in the smell and heat of him before resuming. He moaned beautifully, and it gave her a wonderful illusion of power.

  “Maybe I won’t let you come,” she said playfully, and as she had half-hoped this spurred him to tighten his fingers in her hair and fuck her mouth; she let go and let the moment engulf her, and then he was coming, in her mouth and running down her chin, she was so greedy for him and it was good, good, good—

  “I love you,” he gasped, and then it was something beyond that.

  Dennis sank onto the bench beside her, his legs weak and his need for her overwhelming. He wrapped himself around her and kissed her deeply, tasting himself. “I love you,” he said again, and then she kissed him, lunging for his face and biting his lips hungrily.

  “I love you,” she said back, and they went on like that for some time, both thoroughly out of their minds.

  Gradually, though, his sense returned, and he began to sc
heme again. He pressed her back until she was supine on the bench, then rose to grab handcuffs and ankle restraints to bind her to it face up.

  She lay back and waited for him; she watched intently as he plugged in a Magic Wand and knelt beside the bench.

  “How long has it been since you came?” he asked.

  “A million years,” she estimated.

  “Do you want to come?”

  She eyed him. “Is this a trick question again?”

  He shook his head, switched on the vibrator and pressed it up into her groin, beneath her clit. She keened, and he moved it away. “No tricks. Just treats. Do you want to come?”

  “Yes!”

  April almost screamed. “Please. Sir. So bad!”

  “Hmmmm,” he said, and she almost sobbed.

  “I knew it was a trick, I knew it, I hate you.”

  “No, you love me.” So smug.

  “Please let me come.”

  “You know what I was thinking?”

  She did sob.

  “What if we waited until New Year’s?”

  That...that was only another six weeks. Maybe...maybe she could live with that...

  “How about New Year’s, onstage at Frankie’s, so everyone can see what a good girl you are?”

  She gasped and tried to sit up, yanked against the handcuffs and fell back. “Dennis Martin!” She sounded outraged.

  “Well, all right,” he said. “You can come tonight. Maybe onstage next year.”

  “Wait, next year?” And then he pressed the powerful vibrator back up against her core, and she was falling over the edge even as images burned in her mind of herself, dressed up and restrained, tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross on the stage at Frankie’s coming again and again and again...

  He continued pressing and teasing and drawing out orgasms until they were dry spasms and she was begging him to stop. “Okay, doll. Okay.” He knelt again to remove the restraints on her arms and legs. He toweled her off, then carried her through the interior door that connected to the en suite bathroom of the master bedroom from the other side. Where there was a hot tub.

  Dennis grinned at the way she moaned when the hot water hit her. She sounded almost the same as she had orgasming. The fourth one. “This is amazing. I’m never having kinky sex without a Jacuzzi nearby again.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, easing in himself once her hair was secured in a bathcap.

  “I dunno. I’m mush. I’ve only got mush thoughts.” She tangled up with him. “Help, I’m mush.”

  “That’s okay. Just be mush, then. I’m gonna clean you up, though.”

  “I came so much, Dennis. I came so much.”

  He laughed. “Mm-hm. Well that’s what happens when you wait six months.” He maneuvered her around in the water to rub her shoulders; he’d put them through it tonight.

  “Did you really say something about next year?”

  “Just talk,” he said patiently. She twisted her neck to narrow her eyes at him.

  “I don’t believe you.” He just kept rubbing. “Dennis, I can’t go a whole year.”

  “Of course not,” he agreed mildly, and leaned forward to kiss her ear.

  “Not a whole year. Dennis. Promise me it won’t be a whole year.”

  “Technically, if it’s New Year’s, it’ll be more than a year.”

  “Dennis.” Her voice was almost a sob. “I can’t.”

  “Then we won’t,” he said, moving his arms down now to just hold her. “You’re always in control.”

  “That doesn’t really help,” she said sulkily.

  “Why not?” he asked. He had been doing a bit of a taunting all-knowing dom schtick, he would admit, but he genuinely didn’t know what she meant.

  “Because I’m a slut for denial,” she said mournfully, and he burst into laughter. She did not, although a smile cracked her plaintive pose. “I’ll sell myself out in a second.” After a moment, she surrendered to laughter, too, and the tension—the delicious, precarious tension of the scene—bled away into echoes in the clean white tiled room.

  Eventually they made their way out of the water and into bed. He thought that surely they were both exhausted, but as she curled against his chest they began to kiss and twine around each other and then he was inside of her and they found they were each capable of one more after all.

  April woke up in Dennis’s bed, at Dennis’s house, in Dennis’s arms, and everything was right. She felt sore in all the good ways, and so relaxed she thought she might float away without the heavy comforter.

  She tilted her head to kiss him, their faces nuzzling together, and felt a troublesome patch on her skin brush against his stubble. For a moment, it sent a nasty sizzle down her nerves, and she had time to wonder if she could steal away and shave without waking him. Then a sleepy, heavy hand curled around her hip and pulled her close, and she surrendered to the moment. It could wait.

  They stayed in bed a long time that morning, until other biological necessities forced them out. She was studying her face in the mirror—making sure she’d gotten all the shaving cream and admiring how the electrolysis was steadily thinning out the blue shadows under her skin—when Dennis returned from the other door into the en suite from the playroom. He had a flat square box in his hands and a smile on his face.

  “What’s that?” she asked, perking up. So many fun things could fit into a box like that.

  “I got it while we were apart...my way of holding on to hope, I guess,” he rumbled.

  She opened it. “Oh, Dennis...”

  It was a collar; a very traditional collar, of heavy black leather, with a stainless steel O-ring at the throat. It matched the cuffs he’d given her.

  “I thought you’d need a different one for everyday,” he said. “Although, if you’re going to work at Frankie’s—well. You can decide that.”

  She bit her lip and turned. “Will you put it on me?”

  He smiled. “Yes please.”

  She looked in the mirror, lifting a hand to touch it. “I love it.” She was nude, and sometimes these days she could even look at herself in the mirror like this and feel good, but right now she looked... Wow. She looked at the curve of her cheeks, and the flare of her hips, and her small breasts, and her long hair, and the petite pink bump of her soft clit, and the leather encircling her neck, and she felt...

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, folding her into him.

  “Not underdressed?” she asked with a giggle.

  “Not at all. I’d take you anywhere like this.”

  She shivered delightedly. “Now...what you were saying about the stage at Frankie’s...and about next year...”

  Epilogue

  They spent Thanksgiving in Illinois, of course. “She’s just a little ray of sunshine,” his mother said, speaking of a woman at least a foot taller than her. “I like her.”

  For Christmas, April’s parents invited her home. Her grandmother was visiting the Maryland cousins. She told them she would come home if she could come in a dress, and her boyfriend would be with her.

  So instead, they spent the holiday in Austin. Dennis’s long-delayed housewarming became a Christmas party, and the Carltons mixed with Pride & Progesterone—tentatively at first, until someone brought out Apples to Apples.

  For New Year’s Eve, there was a show at Frankie’s, and April was onstage, but not performing, and sometimes she was so busy running around being in charge, she forgot to look for him in the crowd. But his collar was always around her neck, and his love and his power wrapped her up from head to toe.

  So that was all right.

  In the year that followed, Ed O’Reilly retired after yet another heart attack, and that was a fresh adventure as Dennis found himself unexpectedly backing Leo Graham for the position, over much worse choices from the consulting side of the business. It ke
pt things interesting, at least.

  And as April had feared, she did not get to orgasm again until the following New Year’s, but they weren’t onstage at Frankie’s for that, either, because they were on their honeymoon.

  * * *

  To learn more about Penny Aimes and her upcoming books and story teasers, please visit her website at pennyaimes.com.

  Acknowledgments

  Any novel should probably have credits as long as a Hollywood blockbuster to acknowledge all the people who left their thumbprints on the work. Here are a few people I couldn’t bear to leave out:

  Rebecca Fraimow, midwife of this book and a talented author in her own right;

  May Peterson, a ground-breaking trans romance author;

  Lynn Brown, at Salt and Sage, who helped with sensitivity reading;

  John Jacobson and Ronan Sadler of Carina Press, who went above and beyond;

  And my wife, who wanted to know how it ended.

  Navy Chief Derrick Fox enlists his best friend’s little brother to pull off a big, showy, and totally fake homecoming. When their gangplank smooch goes enormously viral, they’re caught between a dock and a hard place. Neither of them ever expected a temporary fake relationship to look—or feel—so real. And Arthur certainly never considered he’d be fighting for a very much not-fake forever with a military man.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert!

  Chapter One

  Derrick

  It was going to happen. Today was finally the day I was going to deck an officer and thus end any hope I had of ever making chief of the boat, and probably earn myself a court-martial to boot. But Fernsby had it coming, and he knew it, the way he met my eyes as he gave a cocky laugh. He might be a junior-grade lieutenant who had to answer to the other officers, but he wasn’t stupid. It didn’t matter how much he had it coming, a chief fighting with an officer of any rank over a personal matter was going to be harshly punished.

  But it might be worth it.