by Durano, Liz
His.
How I cried when he rented the place out, but it only made sense. He’d already moved in with us so why keep an extra place just for play? It wouldn’t have made any sense considering we wouldn’t be able to play for a while. Pregnancy, stress hormones, everyday life.
Like the saying goes, everything changes.
Except this.
We’re married now, too, our marriage made official at the city hall two months before Atsa was born. The actual ceremony will come later, and it will not be a big fancy one, not even if Dad is paying for it—I’m his only daughter, after all.
No, our wedding will incorporate Benny’s Navajo culture—my decision, not his. And I’m glad I told him that for I could see just how important it was for him the moment he realized I was serious. It means no longer acting as if his mother’s culture comes second to mine. It means honoring that part of him he never used to talk about, his proud Diné culture that helped make him the man he is now.
I take five more minutes to get myself ready for Benny. Unzip the dress and hang it in the closet, slip off the stilettos and wearing only the lace lingerie, take my position a few feet from the door.
I know the drill by heart.
I hear the doorknob click just before someone steps inside and closes the door. I don’t have to guess to know who it is. His footsteps stop and I hear the closet door sliding open, hangers sliding along the rail as I see him in my mind undressing himself—the blue dress shirt that complemented his sun kissed skin, dark trousers that taper from his slim waist down long strong legs. To this day, the sight of him takes my breath away and sends the butterflies in my stomach fluttering like crazy.
I can smell his cologne as he approaches, its blend of patchouli, vetiver, and sage blending perfectly with the scent that’s all Benny’s. Goosebumps prickle my skin, my anticipation building with every second.
“I have something for you,” he murmurs. “Lift your hair up.”
I do as I’m told, feeling the weight of something cold rest over my neck and shoulders. A short necklace with a pendant. A collar.
My collar.
As he stands behind me, I feel him working on the clasp, locking it close.
“Lower your arms.”
He moves again, standing in front of me this time, his fingers sliding under my chin, tilting my head upward. His thumb traces my lower lip and as I relax my jaw, Benny slides his thumb between my teeth. I don’t wait for his command. I suck his thumb, hollowing out my cheeks as I bring my head forward, taking him deeper.
“I didn’t say you could do that, did I?” He pulls his thumb away and I pout. “So impatient, kitten. I’ll have to punish you.”
I swallow, my anticipation building even more as he moves away from me and I hear the bed shift.
“Come here.”
I follow the sound of his voice, making my way to him on my hands and knees. Some days I’ve wondered if we should stop doing this and I guess one day, we will. But we’ve lived this dynamic for fourteen years, ever since we reconnected in Shiprock and Benny took on the role like he was born into it. While I’m sure he derives pleasure from it, it’s really for me. Some days, I need to get out of my head and let someone else take control.
And that’s what Benny does best, taking full control of my mind, my body, my soul… all of it. It takes a special man to treat me like his queen, his equal one day and a vessel for his pleasure the next, to deny me what I want, to control my orgasms, to strip me of every worry that comes to me with a word, a touch, a look.
And then there are days when I crave the punishment, knowing that on the other side of pain, there is bliss. Peace.
Letting go.
No, I’m not like the others.
I crawl to him, not needing to see him for I know he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Twenty,” he says and I nod, positioning myself on his lap. He strokes my buttocks gently, his touch warm. I gasp when his fingers slide between my legs, sliding between my slick folds. “Count for me, kitten.”
And I do, each strike of his hand on my ass stinging like fire, tempered by a slip of his fingers at just the right times to ease the burning sensations. Somehow, it hurts more than I remember but maybe it comes with the territory. Maybe you get soft. Maybe you forget.
By the time I count to fifteen, I can feel my mind letting go, my thoughts fading into a sea of white. I feel myself floating even as tears soak through my blindfold.
I shouldn’t want this.
It isn’t normal.
But I don’t care what anyone else says.
No one has to understand but Benny.
It takes me a moment to realize I’ve called out the last number for the spanking stops. I slide off his lap and kneel in front of him. The skin of my buttocks sting when they touch my heels and I draw out a ragged breath as Benny loosens my blindfold. I open my eyes, seeing him for the first time since he walked into the room—his handsome face, intense black eyes, the tattoos that grace his muscled torso and arms. His glorious cock standing in attention in front of me.
I know what comes next, what’s expected of me and I grasp the base of his cock, making a ring around it. I close my eyes and slide my tongue along the underside, moving from root to tip and back down again. When I slide up to the head of his cock, Benny gasps when I lick the precum, tasting his desire on my tongue.
“Fuck…” he groans, fisting my hair in his hands as I go down on him again.
A Sir and his sub, that’s what we are behind closed doors. A mindset that only we share.
Our secret.
“Kitten.” Benny pulls my head away from his cock and pulls me up to him. He kisses me hard, taking my breath away. I pull away and stare at him, the kiss unexpected.
His expression is almost tortured as he gazes at me, studying my face before pulling me to him again, pressing his mouth against mine. I wrap my arms around him, holding on. Lips, tongues, teeth, I can never get enough. I’ll always want more.
Benny fists his hand in my hair, pulling my head back as his other hand squeezes my bruised ass. “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”
I do as I’m told and feel him get on the bed behind me. My skin is tender where he’d spanked it minutes earlier, yet I love it when he grabs my ass and squeezes, making me gasp in pain. His other hand strokes my breasts through the lace, trailing down my side to grip my hips. I can feel the head of his cock against my opening and I close my eyes, readying myself.
“You’re so wet.”
“Yes–” The words are left in midair as he pushes into me, filling me. I gasp, feeling my body shudder from the sensations hitting me, pain and pleasure mingling into one. How can I even explain them? The length and girth of him filling me completely, the sting of pain pushing me to the edge and back again.
No other words can describe the feeling of submitting myself to the right man. They’re not needed.
Benny tightens his grip on my ass as he pounds into me, fast and deep, hitting me in my most sensitive place. Flashes of light burst behind my eyelids. I can’t speak. I can’t think. All I can do is feel him fill me, claim me… own me.
He grips my hair, pulling my head back. My back arches.
“My queen.”
The world disappears from view as Benny fucks me hard and relentless, each thrust sending me further and further into that space where no one but him can reach me. When he slides his hand under my stomach and presses on my clit, I collapse onto the pillow as I feel myself tumbling and falling over the edge, coming hard and fast, my body shuddering with every slam of his hips.
Suddenly, I forget myself.
I forget where we are.
I forget what I’m supposed to be.
“Benny, I’m coming!”
His grip tightens, his fingers digging into my already red and sensitive ass as I feel myself pulsing around him, milking him.
Benny groans as he comes, the sound of my name filling the room.
&
nbsp; He forgot, too.
A few minutes later, I find myself in his arms, safe and warm. I inhale his scent, taking him in and what just happened, how we both slipped off our masks without realizing it.
Everything changes.
Even Benny.
“Nizhóní, are you okay?”
I look at Benny and nod. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Was I too rough?”
“No, you were perfect.”
“You said my name,” he murmurs.
“And you said mine. We’re even.” I lift my head from his shoulder, studying him. “Today felt different, Benny. It’s as if we’ve changed somehow.”
“Because we have, nizhóní,” he says, folding his other arm behind his head. “We have a new baby.”
“And we don’t have your condo anymore. It’s like we’re on a time crunch to get things done.” I rest my head back on his arm.
“Because we are,” he says. “You’re leaking milk, by the way.”
And he’s right. I’m leaking right through the lace bra. “I’m sorry.” I shift away from him but he pulls me back to him.
“You don’t have to apologize, Sarah.”
“But I pumped before we left.”
“And between the drive here, dinner, that brief stop at the bar to chat and then this, that was four hours ago.” He pauses. “Things are different now, Sarah. That’s just the way things are.”
“It did hurt more,” I whisper. “By the tenth one, I was ready to say my safe word.”
“You should have.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m probably just more sensitive. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love it because I did. It was amazing. You have no idea how much I needed tonight.”
“I did, too.” Benny touches the tip of my nose with his knuckle. “Don’t forget that we’re just returning to it after eight months. We can’t jump back into where we were the last time.”
“You had your condo then,” I say wistfully. “We used to play all night.”
“We’ll figure something out at home, Sarah,” Benny says, chuckling as he continues. “God knows the extended wing is basically a studio apartment and since the walls are adobe, it’s not like sounds are going to to travel far.”
When I look at him, unsure, Benny adds, “We’ll ease into it. Just like tonight.”
I place my hand on my breast again. “You’re right. They are full.”
“I bet,” Benny says. “I’m sure Atsa’s up for his midnight feeding right now.”
I sit up. “Do you think we should go home? I mean, I can pump right now since I brought it with us but…” I pause, sighing. I don’t know why I’m pushing it. Besides, he’s right. We need to ease back into it. “We should go home.”
He sits up and kisses me softly. I always marvel how he can be rough one moment and gentle the next. But that’s the magic of Benny Turner. He’s everything I want in a man. “That’s a good idea.”
It takes its fifteen minutes to pack our things and get dressed. Another fifteen minutes to make our way downstairs and into the car. Ten minutes to make it home even in the snow.
Benny holds my hand during the entire drive, no more words needed to say the things we need to say… about us, about the games we used to play, about how, sometimes, things have to change.
“I love you, Sarah,” Benny says after he parks the car in the driveway and brings my hand to his lips.
“I love you, too, Benny.” I lean toward him, closing the distance between us with a kiss. Turns out I was wrong. Not everything changes.
Some things will always remain the same.
* * *
Thank you so much for joining me on a trip back to Taos to celebrate Valentine’s Day. I hope you enjoyed visiting with Harlow, Dax, and the gang.
Each of the couples featured in in this slice-of-life have their own books listed in order of appearance below:
EVERYTHING SHE EVER WANTED
(Dax and Harlow)
FALLING FOR JORDAN
(Jordan and Addison)
BREAKING THE RULES
(Sawyer and Alma)
FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS
(Campbell and Caitlin)
EVERY BREATH
(Sarah and Benny)
Next up is Gabe’s story
WHERE SHE BELONGS
If you’d like to be notified of Liz’s latest news and books, please join her newsletter at lizdurano.com/subscribe.
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading Nothing but Love. I really appreciate it and I hope the stories made you smile and swoon. After a tough year, I needed to find my “joy” again but writing a new book wasn’t the way to do it—at least, not yet. And so I decided to “visit” old friends and see what my favorite couples were up to years after their stories were told. I hope you enjoyed your visit just as much as I did mine!
I’d like to thank my readers for always being supportive of me and my stories. I appreciate every single one of you and I am grateful for your support each and every day.
Other Books by Liz Durano
A Different Kind of Love
Everything She Ever Wanted
Breaking the Rules
Falling for Jordan
Friends with Benefits
Other Side of Love
Celebrity Series
Loving Ashe
Loving Riley
California Love
Finding Sam
In His Heart
About the Author
Liz grew up devouring fairy tales and her mother’s book collection (don’t tell her!) that included Harold Robbins, James Clavell, and Colleen McCullough. Although she studied Journalism in college, she discovered that she preferred writing fiction and so these days, that’s what she does. She writes women’s fiction and romance and lives in Southern California with her family and a Chihuahua mix who keeps guard of her writing space.
You can follow Liz’s book adventures by visiting lizdurano.com or follow her on Facebook at @lizduranobooks
Or visit my Reader Group where I share new chapters and the latest news:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/librarycafereadergroup/
