His Pleasures and Pain (Book II) (Allen Trilogy 2)

by Chevelle Allen

  “You just deal with it.”

  “Yeah, but don’t this shit get old?”

  “Yeah.”

  CHAPTER 36

  He’d been back from Vegas a few weeks and their time together continued to resonate with him. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about things shared among them when she stirred wrapping her arm over his chest and snuggling close. It was the first time he let her spend the night. Normally he didn’t allow it because it was one sure way to blur lines. But he let her stay because it was very late when their play concluded. She endured quite a bit physically and emotionally, leaving her unquestionably exhausted.

  He carefully moved her arm and got out of bed, going to the bathroom. He was tired too. After their play he spent a lot of time talking her down from the euphoria and crash she experienced. But now, more than anything else, he wanted to spend a quiet day relaxing and catching up on some reading—without. her. After washing up, he returned to the bedroom finding her resting comfortably. It was a little after six, and as much as he wanted to wake her and send her home, he lay back down drifting in and out of sleep.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  He slowly opened his eyes finding her laying on her side gazing at him. He let out a grunt and tucked his hand under his head. It was a little after eight. He had no idea he’d slept another two hours.

  “Morning.”

  “Would you like me to make you some breakfast?” she offered.

  “That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

  “Coffee, then?”

  “I’ll get some later.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jocelyn rolled over kissing him softly before climbing out of bed. He watched as she slowly put on her blouse. Faint yet visible marks were along her back and ass from the night before. He’d flogged her with more force than she was accustomed to, but she managed it well. However, her deliberate movements confirmed she was achy. No matter how physically challenging their exchanges had become, she always seemed eager to push further even to the point of exhaustion. She was so willing to be his vessel—to do whatever he wanted—there were times he suspected he’d gone too far.

  He had to be more dutiful about everything he did with and to her because she wouldn’t always signal him to stop or use her safe word. He talked to her at length about it, but her tendency not to do so already caused minor injury in her shoulder during suspension. For her own safety, he warned her if she ever did it again their play would end. He’d release her.

  After returning from the bathroom, she came to the foot of the bed with her hands folded in front of her and her eyes were cast down. She seductively asked, “Are you sure I can’t get you something else, Sir?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  She climbed onto the bed making her way to his penis. She delicately took him into her mouth and began sucking and licking along his shaft. Of all the women he’d been with, he could honestly say she was the most skilled at giving him head. She was eager, but never rough. She had remarkable control of her tongue and throat, often forgoing the use of her hands. Even when she deep-throated him, she flicked her tongue slightly to tickle his balls. He watched as she moved up and down his shaft, swirling at times, licking at others. But when she sucked, the tension was extraordinary. It didn’t take long before he was ready to cum.

  She released him asking, “May I swallow, Sir or do you want to see it on me?”

  She gazed at him as she resumed her task. Without a doubt, she was dutiful. He had trained her well.

  “Swallow,” he said as his breath increased with the rising wave.

  When they finished, she moved slowly from the bed taking her standing submissive position again. She was ready for his next command.

  He’d never had a Sub quite like her. She wasn’t at all like Nikita predicted but rather everything he suspected she could be with the right Dom. But he was beginning to question if he was right for her. She hadn’t come out and asked him, but her behavior had crossed from Sub to Slave without any provocation from him. She was willing to do whatever he asked of her. It was a curious thing, but not at all what he wanted. The kind of play he enjoyed was one thing, but this had become something entirely different.

  He knew a number of people who were into the Slave/Master dynamic. Some going so far as to draw up “ownership” papers for their ”Slaves.” Some only did it in the course of the few hours of play. Others made it a twenty-four hour experience. The whole concept made him uncomfortable regardless of whether or not the partners were of the same race or ethnicity.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re more than welcome, Sir.”

  “How’re you this morning? You seem a little stiff.”

  “Nothing a little aspirin won’t take care of.”

  “Did you enjoy last night?”

  With a broad smile and sparkling eyes she said, “You know I love pleasing you.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Of course I did. I’ll do anything for your rewards…to feel you inside me. No man has ever made me feel the things I feel for you.”

  He was certain the comment was meant as a compliment. Nonetheless it made him uneasy. He sat up, bringing his legs around to the edge of the bed. He extended his hand to her. “Come here.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Really, I’m fine.”

  “Sit down.”

  Guiding her to sit with her back to him, he slid the blouse off her shoulders. Carefully inspecting the remaining marks on her back, he wanted to make sure the flogging hadn’t broken her skin. He moved his hands slowly over them trying to feel for anything suggesting injury. He couldn’t see or feel anything beyond the slight bruising. He pressed lightly on a few of the deeper marks just to make sure there was no underlying or significant inflammation. Once he was done, he turned her to face him.

  “I’ve warned you before. You have to tell me when it’s too much for you.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I won’t make that mistake again. I promise to use my safe word if I need to. I can’t risk losing you over something like that.”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re more than my Dom. You know that.” She leaned in kissing his cheek before moving to his lips. Looking at him with deep longing, she said softly, “Because of you, I understand what it means to really give yourself to someone.” She began interspersing her kisses with words continuing, “It’s freeing…and amazing. I don’t want to lose that feeling…or you.”

  Recoiling to her remark, “What?”

  “I love you, Michael.”

  Fuck! “No…you don’t,” he said calmly yet emphatically.

  “You told me to be honest with you, and I’m being honest.”

  He let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair trying to find the words to express what he needed to say to her. Despite what she confessed, he was certain of one thing—she had simply gotten caught up. She’d allowed the intensity of their interactions to cloud her discernment. The night before, she crossed into a euphoric “Sub Space,” which was now confusing things.

  “Jocelyn, it’s not love you’re feeling.”

  “I’m fifty-two years old. I think I know what love is.”

  “When you’re new to all this, it’s easy to confuse the intensity with love. Everything we do is about heightened arousal and adrenalin…and hormones and uninhibited sex. It’s intimate…but it’s not love.”

  The rejection she was feeling became evident as her body tensed. “You can be logical all you want, but that sounds like love to me.”

  “But it’s not.”

  He took for granted her ability to keep her emotions in check simply because she was a more mature woman. On some level, he felt responsible for this situation–some guilt for it because he h
adn’t warned her about the possibility. But the truth was, outside of their sexual games, they rarely saw each other. He didn’t date her. They didn’t go out for dinner and wine or go to concerts and movies or do all the other things couples do. Instead, he’d call her. She’d come over. He’d play with her, taunt her, please her and he took care of her. But he never loved her.

  Taking her hands in his he said, “I thought we understood each other. But I’m not going to lie to you or make promises I can’t keep. This is about one thing…and it’s not love.”

  “The way you touch me, the way you...There’s more to what we have than just sex.”

  “Then tell me what we have.” He didn’t want to hurt her, yet everything he’d said seemed to have little impact. He only hoped by turning it back to her, she’d come to the rational conclusion of their impasse. Her eyes flitted back and forth as she tried to find words to address his challenge.

  She’d become flushed as the emotions overwhelmed her. “I feel like an idiot. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” she asked holding back tears.

  “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I think maybe we ought to…”

  “Oh God!! Please don’t release me! I’ll be okay. I just need to get myself together and everything will be fine.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  “Michael, please!”

  “You want more and I can’t give you that.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “Why can’t I be more to you?”

  The initial thrill he felt when they began their arrangement had ebbed over time no matter how much their play had expanded. As much as he enjoyed being with her, there were things she’d never be able to give him. Things he’d never feel towards her. If he were truly honest with himself, he knew why. He wanted something more and was prepared to give the same to the right woman. Something deeper. If he were truly honest with her, he’d tell her he wanted someone who lit up his world, made him laugh, inflamed his passions while soothing his soul.

  The woman he wanted would challenge him intellectually as they spent hours talking about everything or absolutely nothing. He needed someone who saw him at his best and worse; knew every tick and quirk and still took joy in discovering new things about him. He’d tell Jocelyn how one day he hoped to find that special woman to spend the rest of his life with—not because he needed her, but because he wanted her. If he were truly honest, he’d tell Jocelyn little of what they had was enough for him anymore.

  “We need to step back from this for a while. You need time to figure out what you want—because the only thing I can give you is this.”

  “If I was younger, would it make a difference?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “You are who you are.”

  She stood up, taking a deep breath. “Wow. I almost forgot how shitty it feels to get dumped.”

  “That’s not what’s going on here.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He didn’t respond immediately. He simply got up and slipped on his shorts and tee shirt. He picked up her skirt and underwear handing them to her. “You need to get dressed.”

  “Aren’t we going to talk about this?” she asked.

  “There’s really nothing left to say right now.”

  “How can you be so heartless after what happened last night?”

  He really hoped their conversation didn’t slip into crazy territory. But there was no denying her hurt was shifting to anger. He’d had enough of that from the women in his life.

  “I’m not heartless, but you are emotional,” he said calmly. “We can talk when you’ve had a chance to step back and think about this.”

  He walked out to the living room and started his coffee while she washed up and finished dressing. When she emerged, she came to the counter where he stood sipping his coffee.

  “Can I at least have a cup of coffee before I go?”

  He hesitated for a moment watching her to gauge any shift in her temperament. He finally said, “Sure.” He reached for the cup, filled it and handed it to her.

  “I’ve behaved like a prepubescent child or love-sick teenager. I’m really sorry. I crossed a line and it won’t happen again.”

  “It can’t happen again.”

  She steeled herself and asked, “If you knew this could to happen, why didn’t you prepare me for it?”

  “I guess I hoped it wouldn’t with you.”

  “I see. But it’s happened to you before?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “Like I said, we take a break. You figure out what you want.”

  “As long as what I want isn’t being in love with you.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I understand.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER 37

  In the months following Jocelyn’s decision to end their relationship, he spent time contemplating the choices he’d made with the women in his life. At first he cloistered himself with running, work or reading, content with the idea women were too much trouble. But he knew better. It was merely a juvenile reaction to the realities he faced. He began analyzing his own behaviors coming to grips with what he needed to achieve the happiness that eluded him.

  With all the frustrations he experienced, there was no denying every one of the women in his life over the past five years was remarkable. These women were intelligent, vibrant and beautiful in their own right. Despite all his rules and expectations, each helped unleash elements of his personality. His revelations about them enabled him to better understand himself and what he ultimately wanted.

  Christine represented everything he resisted in his upbringing. Yet his unconscious desire to have some semblance of that world was found in her. She understood his privileged upbringing and the contradictions their race imposed in ways he’d never have to explain. But what he could never articulate to her was his need to have it on his own terms. Instead, theirs eventually became a relationship built on pretense and emotional manipulation. His failure was thinking he could get past it or worse, learn to live with it. In the end, they both lashed out creating emotional shrapnel impacting the very things and people they loved most.

  Nikita’s unabashed self-awareness and confidence became his beacons. No matter how uninhibited or dark their play was, she taught him what freedom really was and how to become one with it. As much as he strived for order in his life, with her he learned to relish the unexpected. She made him laugh while appreciating simpler things. She was also the only other woman who could incite his anger easily and arouse his passion to epic levels. He understood the only way this was possible was that she pushed him to be his authentic self. Yet through it all, he resisted her. He refused to allow her access to the deepest recesses of heart. At times, he deeply regretted that decision.

  When he considered Jocelyn, he realized she was the sexual partner he claimed to want. She whole-heartedly embraced her submissive role freely relinquishing her power to him. She would be whomever he wanted. But he quickly realized his sexual and emotional needs were intricately intertwined. No matter how much control she gave him, it couldn’t replace his desire to connect at another level. Ultimately, he couldn’t connect with her because they had very little in common. She was the antithesis of everything he was and no deeper attraction could be found in their opposing spheres.

  He recognized his recurring mistake was taking each of them for granted. Subconsciously, he was selfish, expecting them to provide what he hadn’t resolved. He allowed his play to be the singular outlet for all his stress, desires and longings. Repeatedly, he’d warn his Subs not to allow the physical rush to be confused with love. Yet he used that very rush as a powerful substitute for what was missing in his life. The wholeness he sought through play alone never came no matter how erotic, kinky or outrageous it was. His greatest epiphany came
when he realized the height of his sexual pleasure was the result of a willful and flowing exchange of power with a woman he enjoyed at every conceivable level. It was in this realm he felt true as a Dom and a man.

  For the first time, he truly understood what eluded him for over a decade; why letting Janine go was so difficult. He mistakenly believed she alone possessed some magical key to his heart. The reality was she was the only woman he entrusted with it along with everything he was and hoped to be. In the aftermath of their initial breakup, he slowly constructed habits designed to shield against further pain. Ironically, he’d unwittingly placed the burden on her to be his savior. That burden ultimately led her to leap off his metaphorical pedestal during each encounter thereafter. He knew deep in his soul she loved him, but she could never be all he made of her. Nor did she want to be. They both simply needed to be loved; without expectation and free to cherish the moments they made together.

  There was no question he’d always love her. She’d always hold a special place in his heart but no longer consume it. He also understood he needed and was capable of freeing himself to the possibility of another woman making her own space in his life. There’d be no more comparisons, veils or compartmentalization. He’d allow things to unfold in a natural order, understanding all the inherent risks and extraordinary rewards awaiting him. He was ready to love, but he wouldn’t rush into it.

  The extra time he now had was filled reconnecting with friends and other interests long shelved. Volunteering at the Sorenson House, he helped transient families take care of legal issues impacting their long-term ability to become stable again. On occasion, he’d serve meals, do minor repairs or help in whatever capacity was needed. With manageable caseloads, he was able to fly out to spend time with Rick and Mya. He also took long weekends enjoying historic or nature destinations. Other times, he tucked away reading the latest bestseller, political or historical tome. He was finally at peace with himself.

  Returning home after a vigorous run, he showered and prepared for a night out with friends. After dressing, he walked the block to the cigar bar. He rarely came on Friday nights because it was one of the more popular spots in the city. But to his surprise, the place was energetic, but not so loud that a good conversation couldn’t be had. Enjoying this rare night out with a few friends from the legal community, he felt at ease and happy. Gathered around the bar, they toasted a colleague’s recent promotion to senior partner. They laughed, enjoyed bourbons, and puffed on Dominican cigars.