He and Fire were holed up in her New York apartment the whole next week, playing and fucking. It was, some part of his brain told him, wrong. Some of the worst sins a man could commit.
The very next weekend, he sinned even more. He spoke with Master Simon and started lessons on how to be his Fire's master. How to make her beg and how to make her scream his name. Simon knew her best--he'd been her Master before she met Maddox.
Graduation couldn't come fast enough. Maddox wanted nothing more than to move to the city to be with her and earn his master in psychology. Even his childhood goal of being a pastor faded away in the consuming passion they shared. He'd even started to make plans to marry her.
And suddenly, she was gone.
She came home weeping one night. Just days before they were done with college. Just days after he had bought her a ring.
Wracking sobs shook her body as she confessed she has been seeing someone else for weeks, and that she had fallen in love with him. She couldn't stay. She need *him*. He was a new, fresh way of life.
Fire swore she'd never forget him. That she did she still love him, but this was something her heart needed. Something she couldn't deny her soul.
And Maddox was alone.
He was nearly homeless too, as he and Fire had been planning on moving when they finished and he found himself sleep on Master Simon's couch. Just long enough to secure housing closer back toward Princeton.
And back he went, back to divinity. Back to boring. Back to alone--but now with a craving for the sins of the flesh.
Simon shouldn't have shown him the dungeons or the nightly women who were curious about the lifestyle. It made it too easy to find someone to play with, too easy to give into the sin. His quest to finish his divinity degree became his sole focus. He wanted to finish what he started and go home. Home to New Orleans, home to his mother's cooking, his father's morning paper, his siblings arguing and ignore him.
Then, one night, close to his ordination, nearly at the goal posts of his plan--everything ended.
Simon and his now-wife were spiriting away a woman who had been in a brutally abusive relationship. It had become their passion: getting women out of abusive relationships. The woman they were working with was suddenly ready to be out, and Simon and Tally had to move fast.
But the road had been dark and wet, the other drive careless in such terrible weather. The car with Simon and the woman spun out avoiding the other car, smashing into a rock wall.
They were killed on impact.
His wife watched.
And that's when Maddox found out the woman they were spiriting away was his Fire.
Eileen Menning.
Maddox crumbled. He his heart was shattered, his life tossed upside down. His Fire was gone, and there was no getting her back ever. She had walked into the arms of an abuser. How had she missed the signs? How had she let herself be caught up in that?
At the funeral, her husband was laughing and smiling. Her family was destroyed. They sat in tears while this man whooped it up with two friends. Everyone else shied away from them, including Maddox.
Until his words rang through the parlor, slamming into his gut, making him want to puke. “I'm glad to be rid of the nasty little cunt.”
There was no stopping Maddox at that point. He charged across the room, slammed the man bodily into the wall and used his head as a speed bag.
After the police booked him and released him, he left. He left New York, he moved out of New Jersey, he pled family matters on the rest of his divinity schooling and hid in Philadelphia until graduation. Once he was ordained as a Lutheran pastor, he hopped the next flight to New Orleans.
To home.
Home, however, didn't prove to the comfort he needed. It was still too loud, too much for him. Fire's death had pulled his heart out of his chest. He needed quiet, and time.
And Karim was it.
He applied for and was accepted at the Light of Hope church, and threw himself into being the best pastor he could. He took tremendous pride in helping people. He loved to see people smiling and succeeding. Maddox was charmed by the little Texas town. The people of Light of Hope, though, were not nearly as charmed by him. They found his God too impersonal. They told him relied too much on the people and not the power of prayer.
It made sense. His Fire left him, and then as she escaped the horrible life that had consumed her, was ripped out of this world. Prayers to a god he did not believe interceded, to him, was meaningless. It was far better that they concentrate on the here and now with people who could help. His God had become an impersonal God.
And finally, they asked him to consider moving on.
It was that request that found him sitting outside the trattoria, sipping a beer and pondering what he wanted to do when a woman with mannerism he knew, with a stride he recognized zipped past him and stopped dead. He watched as she turned and stared at him.
The realization was instant. This was Simon's wife, Tallulah. She took two steps and he met her half way in an embrace. No words were needed. She was a widower, and he was still broken. The connection was made—and Maddox found his place the instant Talley brought him into The Club.
He applied for the position at Faith and Hope Lutheran, just 30 miles north of Karim and was accepted.
Who he became was two fold. Pastor Devereaux, the caring, eloquent pastor of Faith and Hope, Master Maddox, the Lead Dom at The Club, a man who would do what it took to make a woman scream in pleasure.
Maddox was content, even though Talley and Mak warned him this was dangerous. He played it perfectly.
Until a sweet little sub named Claire appeared in his life.
Chapter Eleven
“You are not my son.” His father stood with a violent shove of the chair.
Mother grabbed his arm. “Sit down, Maurice!”
“I will not, woman. This—”
Mother popped off her chair and stuck her finger in his face. “Don't you dare 'woman' me, Maurice.” She wasn't yelling; Maddox knew his father was in deep, deep shit. “Your son has come to you at a crossroads in his life, confessing things he has no obligation to confess and a parent has no right to hear. You will sit down at this table and break bread with him. And you will not walk away from him with those angry words as your last.” She reached behind him and pulled the chair close. “Sit.” He clearly wanted to yell at her, and in response, his mother shoved him into the chair.
“As his last?” Claire's voice was quiet.
“I can see we have a problem with open and honest at this table, my dear husband. Why don't you talk to your son instead of screaming at him and passing judgement.”
Father folded his arms and did not make a sound.
“Fine, when you're done being a petulant child, husband mine, we will discuss my statement with our son. Meanwhile,” Mother turned in the chair, “you did not have to confess all this to us, Maddox. But your hard honesty is appreciated. So they will not welcome you back to the pulpit.”
His stomach was in knots; there was something wrong with his father? Was he dying? Were they moving away for good? Maddox felt his panic rising until Claire pressed her palm against his.
“Dox, stop, please. Your mother will explain if your father does not.” Mother nodded. “So finish your story.”
“It's not just that, m'ma.” Sighing deeply he squeezed Claire's hand. She was his sousmis, his bottom, his rock. “I love Claire. I love God. But I do not love God the way the Church thinks I ought. When Fire died in the crash, as she was escaping her abuser, my fundamental ideas of a personal God who answered prayers and interceded in our world vanished. The idea that he had a grand unknowable plan became abhorrent to me. Even if she had never come back after leaving him, there is no reason I can fathom to take such a bright soul out of our miserable world. I cannot love Him the way our doctrine says.”
“Is this a Dark Time?” Mother leaned back a bit.
“No, not even close. I still believe in God, in good, in
angels and Heaven. None of that changed. But I don't love God the same way you do. Mamere—Franny—taught me that strong faith doesn't come from a book. Not for me, not anymore. I will always be faithful, but my faith is different.” He looked at the beautiful woman next to him. “I am, in my heart, meant to serve. And sitting here with you, holding the hand of this amazing woman, it's all become clear to me. I am meant to serve.”
“But who?” His father leaned forward with elbows on the table. “What will you do to support this woman?”
“I have a master's in Psychology. This town needs a special kind of doctor with a special kind of understanding.”
Claire's face was consumed by her smile. “A psychologist?”
“Therapist for now. Doctor, eventually.”
The scowl on his father's face melted as his mother beamed at him.
“A doctor of Psychology.” She leaned over and patted his hand. “Now, there's my son. There's your true calling.”
* * *
“Hello?”
Dashing across the half-built office in the basement of the house, Claire had snatched the phone before Maddox could.
“Hello, dear.” Maurice's voice was soft and groggy. “Is my son there?”
“Yes, of course!” She handed the phone to Maddox who was giving her a 5-spanking look. He took the hand set.
“Hello, dad. I'm fine. Let’s hear it.” There was a pause, and Maddox let his explode in a grin, peppering the receiver with 'unhunhs' and yesses. “Well. That all sounds like the best we were hoping for. How long? Really. Okay. Yes fine. Rest, dad. We'll be down when they lift the restrictions. Yes. Anytime you know that. Love you too, old fart.”
Hanging up the phone, he put his hands-on Claire's waist and slowly started backing her up.
“Well? What happened?”
“You earned a paddling.”
“With your father!”
“Their livers were a perfect match. The doctors said he was the easiest transplant they'd ever done. He'll be in isolation for five days, and then my mother can go in. As long he keeps improving, they'll lift the restrictions in ten.”
“And your sister?”
“She can go home in three days, full bed rest. The doctors are delighted with her recovery.”
“Yeay!” Claire's eyes welled with tears. “I'm so glad!”
“I'm glad you were able to talk them into living donor. That was brilliant.”
“Mamere suggested it.”
“But you did the foot work and the talking.”
“I'm glad it all worked.”
He leaned in and chased a tear down her cheek with kisses. “I'm glad too. But, Claire. That was naughty, racing me to the phone. It wasn't a fair race.”
Her backside bumped up against the sawhorse the carpenter had left. “I didn't know we were racing, Sir. I would have beaten you more soundly if I had.”
“You're being bratty.”
She grinned. “Am I?”
He leaned over and picked up a short, discarded length of 1x8 lumber. “Very.”
Claire felt her pussy flutter. “How bad have I been, Sir?”
He hmm'ed a moment, hefting the wood. At the same time, pressed against her, she could feel his erection pushing on her stomach. “Five. Five swats.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “That's all I'll last before I need to drive my cock into you, Claire.”
In a smooth, easy move, he had her pants unfastened, and down as he bent her over the saw horse. Shit, she was on fire. Her nipples ached, begging to be tugged and touched, but before she could get to them, Maddox grabbed her arm and pulled it out along the top of the parallel beam and smooth plastic wrapped around her wrist. She looked over just time to see Maddox pulled the tie tight with a telling 'zzzzip' sound. It bit into her wrist lightly, as he adjusted her to trap her breast against the top of the saw horse. And a moment later, her other hand was fastened straight out as well with another zip tie.
Not saying a word, Maddox ran his hand over her naked ass. Smoothing his hand over her flesh, he teased the entrance to her ass with a tickling touch and then dropped his hand down to her pussy. “Oh, Claire... you're so fucking wet already. Is this all for me?”
“Yes, sir.” She measured her words; his finger dipping in and out of her entrance had her panting already.
“Were you bratty, soumis?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what happens to a bratty soumis?”
“They get the paddle, Sir.”
“Yes, they do, mon oisillon. You will get five.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
She didn't even have to hang on. She was tight to the sawhorse and could let go. When the first hit scored her ass, she had no choice but to let go. He hit hard, and echo in the empty room was a sharp, welcome sound as the pain danced through her, pearling her nipples, making her pussy even more wet. “One.” She managed to breath through the pain. It was amazing.
Two more more hits, each just as brutal and hard as the last. It would hurt to sit in the morning, and each twang of the bruises would remind her of this moment. Of the filthy sex she enjoyed, and the amazing man who could fill wanton desires and deviant needs. Needs that she—and he—full embraced.
His fourth hit rode the pain of the last one, and Claire could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks, but damn it, she was so close to coming. The bite of the zip ties against the hard pain of the wood on her ass, the push of the thin length of support sawhorse against her breast, dragging against the grain.
“Are you going to come, mon oisillon?”
“Shit, yes, sir. Yes.”
With no warning, he landed the last spank on her ass. She screamed and came at the same time, her legs giving out, her whole body shaking and trembling. Claire couldn’t breath as her pussy clenched and desperately tried to pull something, anything into her wanting tunnel.
It waited only a moment before Maddox fed her greedy sex his cock, slamming into her, and sending out shockwaves that echoed back and made her come again. His fingers dug into her hips and pulled her back against him, thrusting and seeking the deepest part of her. Maddox’s motions still dragged her nipples over the wood, feeding the ache and desire in her whole body.
He landed a slap on her ass, and Claire screamed in the delight he stoked in her.
“Come for me again, mon oisillon, come for me again.”
Maddox’s fingers found her clit and pinched it with a twist. She came, as he spilled his cum inside her.
Claire found herself free from the zip ties in the next instant as her body still quaked. Maddox pulled her against him and slid to the floor with her cradled in his arms, and her head found the crook of his neck. His fingers gently stroked her pussy, calming and relaxing her until she stopped shaking. She watched has he licked his fingers clean of her essence.
“Filthy, Sir.” Claire nuzzled against him.
“I love the way you taste, little bird.” He smoothed her hair away from her face and wiped the tears away. “I love you, little bird.”
“I love you, Sir.” She smiled softly as she drifted to sleep in his arms. “I can’t wait to call you husband.”
She fell asleep before she could see the blinding joy on Maddox’s face.
Epilogue
...Years later...
“Come on, Simon! Keep up!”
“He just a baby, Lola!” Claire rolled her eyes and stood, heading for where her son was struggling to stand from tripping on his untied shoes. “Dana, your daughter is a miserable baby sitter.”
Dana laughed. “I know. She doesn’t get that when you watch a kid, you’re supposed to actually watch them.” She stood, maneuvering her pregnant bulk around the table. “Come on, I’ll help wrangle the mob.”
“It’s not a mob, it’s just a few kids,” Tally said. She looked pointedly at Dana’s stomach. “Some should say no.”
Austin raised his hand. “Yo. I said it. I’m calling it. No more. Vasectomy, over and done.”
�
��Good man,” Liam clapped him on the back. “I was beginning to think it was comp--Elijah! What did I tell you about leaving your pants on!” Liam jumped off the deck running toward the older of the twins.
“Like father like son,” Maddox mumbled earning a whack from Claire. He immediately gave her the 5-spank stare, as she liked to call it. More a promise than a threat, though. She and Dana picked their way across the yard where his son had started eating the grass instead of trying to play with the—admitted—gaggle of children.
Liam convinced Elijah to put his pants back on and play trucks with his twin brother, Jonah. Fourteen-year-old Lola gave up on the kids completely and sat down to read her book. Her younger sister Emily and Tally’s oldest, Fire, were playing with some currently popular toy. Jack, Lola’s and Emily’s little brother, toddled over to his mother, Dana, Simon and Claire and started to eat the grass with him. Maddox rolled his eye.
“Doctor Devereaux.” Tally teased him as she sat down at the table. “Are you and the missus on track for another one to add to our gaggle?”
“Claire’s not ready, but I’m sure she will be soon.”
She looked at her own daughter, Fire, and then over to his son, Simon. “Do you miss them?”
“Every day. But every day, I remember the beautiful woman that shares my life now. I can’t imagine it any other way.” He looked over to her. “And you, mistress?”
“Every day. But Liam helped me heal the wounds. I feel like even the scars are fading now.”
“You found the light for your dark corners, and I found someone who taught me to sin.”
Tally held up her glass. “Kinky fuckers to the end.”
Maddox clinked his glass against hers. “To the end.”
THE END
of The Fire Trilogy.
Sweet Pain
Chapter One
The Fire Saga (The Club) Page 24
