by Carson, Tori
“Mrs Branson, this is my passion”—Mike spread his hands out encompassing his work—“but I also do standard photo shoots. I would be thrilled to offer my services in any way to you two.”
“That’s so kind of you, Mike. Thank you.”
Other customers arrived drawing Mike’s attention, allowing Nick and Laura to wander through his exhibit in relative privacy. “What do you think?” Nick whispered softly in Laura’s ear.
What was he asking? Did he want to buy Mike’s erotica? Where would they put it? Was she comfortable having photos of naked-is women in her home? Maybe in the playroom. Looking at the women pictured had her feeling a bit self-conscious. Their skin was flawless. No, she really didn’t want a constant reminder that she was no longer twenty. She knew if these photos hung in the playroom she would always wonder if it was her getting him hot or if it was them. Crap, he obviously liked them. What did she say? She didn’t want to disappoint him. “They are beautiful, Nick. Mike has talent. They’re erotic without being blatant. I can see why you like them.”
“But…”
“Is there one you want to buy?” That wouldn’t be so bad. If it was just one, a small one, maybe she could live with it. Now the ball was back in his court.
“One of these?” His expression was almost comical. “No! I don’t want pictures of other women. I want pictures of you. I thought we could hang them in the playroom.” He took her over to a selection of photos. “See how these highlight her ass and the curve of her breast without actually showing anything risqué?”
Laura nodded, still stuck on the ‘I want pictures of you’ phrase. While these photos were careful to keep out and out nudity from the shot, the model had obviously been naked during the shoot. She didn’t think she could prance around tied up and nude in front of Mike. It just seemed too intimate. Her brain was nagging at her. If she couldn’t do this, then why was she upset that Nick didn’t want to take her to the club? Surely a lot more people would be there. Maybe that was the difference. She would be one of many.
“You can’t see her face. If we kept the photos like this, I think it would be safe enough. Even if someone happened to come across them, it wouldn’t be possible to identify you beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
Her heart swelled. He was worried about her reputation. Sexual photos wouldn’t help her in negotiating a deal. “Nick, I want to make you happy, but I would feel so uncomfortable with Mike seeing me like this. I’m sure he’s professional…”
“Oh, hell no! I would take the photos,” he practically growled. “It would take me a while to get the lighting right, but no one else is going to take pictures like this of you. I’ll probably hire the kid for some professional shoots for the firm and if Rachel marries Steven I’ll hire him for that, but not intimate photos of you.”
He looked at her so expectantly. She couldn’t disappoint him. “We can try it, Nick. I don’t think the lenses are going to be as kind to me as they are to these twenty-somethings.” She worked hard to stay toned, but each year gravity got a little stronger.
“No more of that. You are gorgeous. My submissive is never permitted to denigrate her body. Not even to me. If I didn’t have to meet with clients, I’d hang photos of you like this all over my office.” He paused a moment, his brows drawn together. “Well, maybe not. I’d never get any work done. John would nag me senseless. I’d fire him. His wife would have to get a job. She’d see what a control freak he is, divorce him and then he’d really go off the deep end. He’d end up in some expensive psych facility charging it all to the firm, forcing our benefit costs to increase. We’d pass it along to our employees, decreasing morale and ultimately lowering efficiency.” He shook his head. “No, it might be safer to just keep them in the playroom.”
Laura laughed. That was just the way his mind worked. He took cause and effect to the extreme. It was probably what made him a good Dom. He anticipated and provided for her wants and needs before she even knew what they were. “You’re crazy, Nick, but I love you.”
A little farther in, she found a series of photos that had to have been taken at one of André’s clubs. A woman was bound to a St Andrew’s cross, her backside to the camera. Her Dom was also in the photo. He, too, was pictured from behind. He was wearing leather pants and vest, wielding a very intimidating whip. There was a crowd gathered around them. Owing to the lighting and shadows, it was impossible to make anyone out.
She turned her attention toward another group of photos. Most of them were in black and white, which made the color pictures really pop. One color photo captured her attention. Red-orange flames contrasted with the black night and gray smoke. Honestly, it was breathtaking. She couldn’t tell from the picture what exactly was happening in the scene and she was chicken enough to be happy with that. Still, it was an amazing picture.
What would it be like to be at a club? She imagined young women, like those in the photos, walking around, available, hoping to find a lover and her husband there alone. It just wasn’t a good thing to think about. By refusing to take her, she couldn’t help but feel Nick was ashamed of her.
Why couldn’t she just let it be? She didn’t want to put distance between them. She understood why he didn’t want to be seen with her on his arm or his leash as the case may be, but it still hurt.
* * * *
Nick was watching her closely. He knew she didn’t understand his hesitancy in taking her to one of the clubs. She thought he wasn’t proud of her. She was dead wrong. When she submitted to him, he felt ten feet tall and sported a hard-on to end all hard-ons. She was so fucking beautiful. He didn’t want to share her. He didn’t need to parade her around to feel powerful. The lilt in her voice when she called him Sir or Master, her head downcast in submission, was all it took. If there was a failing, it was his. He wasn’t comfortable with other Doms looking at her, fantasizing about her. It drove him mad. He just wasn’t wired that way.
For a short time, he’d owned a supercar. He had loved the body lines, and the power he could unleash at the touch of the throttle was intoxicating. Yet, he had hated to take it out. No matter where he parked it, it had drawn a crowd. Just stopping for gas had taken half an hour. Eventually, he had gotten sick of it and sold it. He didn’t need validation from others.
“What are you thinking?” He had a pretty good idea and it didn’t bode well for him.
“I’m wondering how you were in such an environment night after night and didn’t want to participate.”
“It wasn’t an orgy. There were strict procedures and a code of conduct.” He knew he wasn’t addressing her concerns. Fuck it. “I did want to participate. When I watched those scenes play out, I wanted nothing more than to fly home, tie you up and take you for hours. What I refused to do was betray your trust by taking another partner. I don’t just want BDSM. I want you. Specifically, D/s with you. It all hinges on your submission, Laura. You are what I want.”
“Thank you, Nick.” She sounded doubtful.
Nick pointed out another shot. “Pony play,” he whispered. Her wide-eyed expression as she spun from the photo to him had him laughing.
“Oh my.” She looked at it again. “I think we can pass on that. No way in hell am I getting in an asses-up line with other women. I could run on the treadmill twelve hours a day and still not be comfortable with that position in public.”
“I love your ass and someday soon I’m going to bury my cock there and die a truly happy man.”
Laura giggled.
“I must say, the races I watched at the clubs were a bit more entertaining than those at a traditional track.” He was opening up, now that he knew she wasn’t going to castrate him for visiting the clubs.
“You’re bad, Nick.”
“True. But you love me anyway,” he announced, knowing it was true.
“With all my heart.”
* * * *
“I can’t get those photos out of my mind, especially those taken at the clubs. After reading so much, I thought I had a p
retty good grasp on what they were like. Those pictures pointed out just how little I really know.” She shrugged. “Granted, the photos were taken in such a way as to leave a lot to the imagination. Only, I guess my imagination just can’t stretch that far.”
Again, with the club. Fuck! “Don’t worry about it, Angel, you know everything you need to know.” Their peaceful snuggle time on the couch of their suite just got mighty uncomfortable.
“Describe an average club member.”
Damn, he was going to just have to take her. Maybe after she saw what it was like, she could finally get it out of her system. “I wouldn’t say there is an average member. André is big on community, education and mutual acceptance. There are couples,” he tipped his head remembering several ménages and foursomes, “and groups of every shape, size and orientation.”
“Do a lot of singles go there to hook up?”
“Some. A few of the clubs offer a singles’ night. It’s a good way for likeminded people to meet.” He knew Laura well enough to know what was bothering her. The idea that he’d spent time around single women looking to hook up bothered the hell out of her. She either trusted him or she didn’t. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Taking her to the club might be the only way to put her fears behind them. Shit! She was still mentally struggling with how her submission would affect the rest of her life. A surprising number of her peers were members of the club. What would that do to her confidence level? He just didn’t know. It could go either way.
If he could figure out a way for them to go to the club and watch a few scenes in anonymity, it might just work. Once she had completely accepted her submission, there wouldn’t be a problem. Her confidence and self-assuredness would remove any obstacles. Right now, it was just so fresh and fragile. He felt like he was walking a tightrope and stuck in a catch-22. She needed to know he wanted her and only her. If taking her to the fucking club would do that, then he could control his own demons long enough to be there for her. Bottom line, her needs came first.
He was still on edge. No matter how much he wanted the issue of the club to just disappear, it wasn’t going to. Tomorrow, normal life would be back with a bang. They both had early morning responsibilities.
“We didn’t date that much before we got married. Do you ever regret not playing the field a little more?”
Fury pushed at him hard. What the fuck was this about? No way in hell were they going to swing. She fucking belonged to him. He hadn’t finally achieved his dream just to have it ripped away from him. Oh, fuck no! If that’s where she was headed with this, she’d never see the inside of a club. He’d build the playroom himself and lock her inside it first. “Where are you going with this, Laura?”
His voice was hard and unrelenting. He rarely used that tone and never with her.
She got up and started to pace. “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll just drop it.”
She was biting her fingernail and looking out of the French doors. Before he’d taken the reins in their relationship, he would have allowed her to get away with that crap. Not anymore. She wanted a firm Dominant and that’s what she had. Like it or not.
“No, Laura. We won’t just drop it. Explain what this is about.” He felt a warm satisfaction spread through him when she spun to look at him with a shocked expression on her beautiful face.
“Nick, don’t be like that. I was just thinking about you visiting those clubs. If you’d been single”—she shrugged—“or less faithful, I doubt you would’ve had difficulty finding a partner.”
He waited her out. First she started fidgeting then continued, “I just wondered if you were ever sorry you chose me. Many of our friends are divorced. First wives are often kicked to the curb once their husbands find success.”
“Some would argue you’re more successful than I am. Are you going to kick me to the curb? Find a younger man? One with less gray, maybe more stamina?” He could breathe again. She wasn’t hinting they should explore the field.
She snorted and he laughed. A delicate blush covered her face. Mrs Laura Branson did not snort! “Oh, Nick, you know I can barely keep up with you. I doubt there is a man with more stamina. Besides, it takes a while, I’m told, to learn staying power. You have that in spades. You’re the only man I ever want.”
“So why should I be any different? Why would I want anyone else?” He took her in his arms and rocked her back and forth. For years he’d tried to build her confidence in the hopes she’d ease up with the jealousy crap. It hadn’t helped much. A while back, he’d just decided it was part of her nature and had made a conscious effort to avoid situations that would send her down that path. Any staff he came in constant contact with were men. He didn’t flirt or develop unnecessary friendships with women.
She shifted on her feet and dropped her head against his chest. “I know. We go over this all the time. I’m sorry.” A little defensively she added, “You know as well as I do, very few of our friends would ever turn down an opportunity like that.”
“None of them are married to you, so I don’t blame them. If I’d settled for second best I might feel differently too. Laura, walking down memory lane has its uses, but I refuse to would, could, should my future away second-guessing my past. I love my life. I have no regrets. Do you?”
“No, Nick, marrying you was the best decision I ever made. I wouldn’t change that for anything,” she answered immediately, conviction strong in her voice.
“And where does D/s fit in?”
“A very close second. I really enjoy it, Nick. All those nights, I read those stories and wondered if reality was anything like the fantasy. Now I consider pinching myself to make sure I’m not in the middle of a pleasure feast dream.”
“I’ll be doing all the pinching,” he chuckled. With a little more somber tone he asked, “Are you sure this is what you want?” He was confident she was happy with what they’d tried, yet it was always nice to have confirmation.
“Yes, Nick.” She smiled shyly. “You really are amazing. What about you? Do you want to continue?”
“I love being your Dom. I don’t want it, I need it. Now that I’ve tasted ambrosia, I’m not settling for fast food ever again. I wish you’d resign and be my love slave twenty-four seven. Technically, you don’t even have to resign.” He knew she wasn’t ready, but he refused to keep his desires secret any longer.
“I don’t know, Nick, anal sex, D/s twenty-four seven… You’re getting to be very demanding. No wonder my aunt gave me a rolling pin at my bridal shower. She knew this day would come. I doubt she knew you had an obsession with my butt. Well, she might have suspected. Uncle Henry was constantly swatting and pinching her ass.”
He remembered that. They were constantly chasing each other around the house, acting like teenagers. “No worries. I tossed the rolling pin several years ago. Why invite rebellion?”
“I wondered where that went to.”
“You did not! Never in your life have you used a rolling pin! Lying to your Dom will get you punished.”
She laughed. “Bring it on, my big, bad Dom. I like your special brand of torture.”
Laura made him soft inside. His love for her exceeded anything he’d ever imagined. He didn’t want to look too closely at it, he was pretty sure he’d have his man card revoked if word got out. He took a deep breath, accepting what he needed to do. Knowing it was the right thing and liking it didn’t always come in a nice, neat little package. “I have some things to attend to. It should take about thirty or forty minutes. When I come back in here, you will be in position waiting for me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
* * * *
What to do for half an hour? She decided to take a bath.
Once the tub was filled, she sank into the warm bubbles and relaxed. Nick had laid down the law when he’d booked the room. There was to be no work intruding on their time. She wondered what he was up to. She’d heard his laptop boot up and a few minutes later he w
as speaking to someone. When she’d been younger she would have listened in. At least she’d progressed that far.
She had to push the clubs from her mind. He had made it clear he wasn’t going to take her. She would try to believe it had nothing to do with her age or appearance and just let it be. He’d certainly given her enough to think about. D/s twenty-four seven was intriguing. She didn’t think she was capable of that. The anal sex issue was another giant question mark. What they’d done so far had been fun. He was a lot bigger than a plug, though. At some point there was going to be a diminishing point of return. She’d have to think about that some more too.
Right now there were more pressing issues to consider, like what did Nick have planned for their last evening at the hotel? Glancing at the clock, she knew she didn’t have long to wait. She quickly dried off and applied a light layer of makeup. It gave her a degree of confidence and the routine calmed her. She decided to wait in front of the fireplace. Pushing the button on the wall between the mantel and the French doors, she watched as flames sprang to life along the logs. Oh, the conveniences of First World living!
She got on her knees, resting lightly on her heels, legs spread, arms in the box position behind her back, head cast down, and waited. Not long had passed when she heard Nick walk into the restroom. He didn’t acknowledge her in any way. Butterflies flew in her tummy as she strained to hear. She didn’t know how much time had gone by before she saw his boots and leather-clad legs appear before her. He ran a hand down her hair. “Arch your back a little farther.”
She was getting the impression Doms always nit-picked the presentation to set the mood. Whatever his reasons were, she didn’t care. She thrust her breasts out farther and waited.
“Good girl. Tonight I’m in a twisted sort of mood. I think we’ll try some rope play. Stand up.” He took her arm and helped her stand. “We’re going to start with a karaka. It’s similar to a chest harness.”
She watched as he trussed her up like a Christmas goose. Ropes ran over her shoulders, above, below and between her breasts. From there, they crisscrossed her back and stomach. He was surprisingly fast. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time he’d played with ropes.
