by Lund, S. E.
I smiled and ran my fingers through his hair. "He loves you like another son."
"And then," he said, pulling me closer. "Then a miracle happened and you were this little subbie, pretending to be a researcher who wanted to meet a Dom and learn about BDSM. You were this sweet little thing Lara wanted me to mentor because she thought you wanted this for real and I was the best teacher she knew. God, Kate… You can't understand how I felt when I saw you at the café and realized it was you."
"I was so mortified."
"I was ecstatic. There you were, this woman I'd always wondered about, this delicious little morsel of womanflesh I couldn’t wait to eat, and you wanted a Dom. It was like I'd won the lottery. Found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."
My heart did a flip at that. "I felt like a silly girl in above her head, mortified that you knew I was interested in kink."
"I felt like the luckiest man alive. I knew I'd have the battle of my life with you, keeping things under control, but it was a battle I just couldn't turn away from, no matter what."
I just stared at him, amazed. "My dad talked about you, too. He used to talk about your father. Liam the crazy man, his best friend from 'Nam. A wild sonofabitch. A crazy idealistic socialist. He talked about Liam's son – this brilliant young neurosurgeon who spent time in Africa doing delicate surgeries for free. Donating hospital equipment. A man's man. Solid. Strong. Intelligent. Professional. In control. You sounded like a dream, a fantasy. If it wasn't for the fact you were a Republican, I would have wanted to meet you."
"I told you none of that matters when we fuck." He grinned. "Do you suppose he was matchmaking even then? Before we ever met?"
"He was! I realized it the night of his first campaign fundraiser." I shook my head in amazement. "He knew you were a Dom and yet he was pushing us together. He thought I needed someone like you."
"He did."
"I do." I pulled him down and kissed him.
"My father would love you, too," he said when he pulled away. "I think he'd especially love the thought that you're Ethan's daughter."
"I remember the moment I fell in love with you," I said, cupping his cheek. "It was that night on 8th Avenue when you played that song for me. Hearing you play and sing that song, knowing it was from my father to yours and that it meant so much to you, it was as if you were letting me in. Letting go of all the control and dominance and confidence to see right into your heart and I just fell."
We embraced, our arms around each other, the bright sun of the clear January day streaming in from the bare windows.
"You know," he said, looking around the apartment. "I always felt deprived after that first night…"
"What do you mean?"
"I never did get to fuck you here. If I recall correctly, I walked out of here that night with a boner."
"That was entirely your choice," I said, unable to keep a huge grin off my face. "You could have done me. Why didn’t you?"
"I didn’t want you to think that I would use you like that."
"You still won't even though it’s a fantasy of mine. Even on New Year's Eve, you made me come."
"No, that was just you being far too hot," he said, grinning now, too.
"One of these days, I want you to just fuck me until you come, leaving me panting and desperate for you."
"Why on earth would I want you not to come? I said that for psychological purposes because I knew it turned you on. But I wouldn't enjoy myself unless you did."
"Chivalry is not dead with you, Drake Morgan."
"I don’t want to leave this apartment without at least christening it," he said, pressing his hips against me. I could feel his erection through my clothes. "I want my last memory of this place to be a good one."
Then he kissed me, his mouth finding mine, pulling me up and into his embrace so that my feet lifted off the floor. As usual, my body responded to him immediately, my heart racing, a thrill going through me.
"Let's fuck missionary-style on the bed. It’s still here."
"Missionary style?" I said, running my hands up under his shirt. "Again? Where's your imagination?"
"It's the middle of the day. I want to see you naked beneath me in the full light so I can watch you come."
My body trembled as he bent down and ran his tongue over the tops of my breasts. He took my hand, dragging me into the bedroom, throwing me across the bed. Then, he lay on top of me, his hands on either side of my face. He had that look in his eyes – I could see the Dom take over in that way that thrilled me so much because I knew underneath the kink was a man who could love, deeply.
"We're having a lot more plain old vanilla sex since New Year's Eve," I said. "I hope you’re not losing your taste for D/s and bondage."
"No fear of that," he said, one hand slipping beneath my sweater. "I love that you’re such an eager student. I want to see how far I can take you. I'm always going to be a Dom, Kate. I'm always going to want to have control, but I don’t need to use it any longer as a shield to keep things in their proper place."
"Meat, potatoes and gravy touching each other?"
"My plate is thoroughly mixed up now," he said, smiling, his gaze moving over my face. "There's no chance of keeping things compartmentalized any longer. You're in each part of my life and I'm in yours. "
My breath hitched at that, and I pulled him down in a kiss that moved quickly from tenderness to passion.
He was deep in every part of my life.
That was exactly where I wanted him to stay.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S. E. Lund lives with her family, six parrots and a very tempted Devon Rex cat in a century-old three-story house on a shady street in a small city in Western Canada. In addition to her work as a policy analyst with government, she writes romance and fantasy fiction and dreams of living somewhere warm where she can hear and smell the ocean. She read Dracula when she was ten years old and has been warped ever since.
