by Garcia, Amy
“How’d you like it?” His chest rises and falls with a deep sigh.
“How did I like it? Well, let me tell you, my wife won’t have sex with me. I failed at luring her into our bed with one of my biggest assets and then she locks herself in the bathroom mere feet away from me to make a video that will frustrate me further. Does that about cover it, baby?”
Wow, when he puts it that way I feel like shit! But no, no, it’s for his own good! I admit the video was retaliation, but it was also meant to be a gift, something for his eyes only.
“Ok, I get it, you’re mad.” In a second crafty smooth move he’s shifted me on top of him, handcuffs clanking and before I can stop him he’s moved our linked hands above our heads and swapped his attachment to me for the headboard.
Now he’s free, and I’m stuck to the bed! How the hell did he do that? “Hey! I thought you wanted to be connected to me?”
“I do.”
“Then what’s with this?” I clang my hand noisily.
“There are other ways to be connected to you.”
“Aww no, we can’t do that, remember?! Doctor's orders!”
“I’ll be careful, slow, calm. I have incredible self-control remember?” he says while caressing the small of my back and over the mound of my ass until he’s worked between my crease. I suck in one last breath with the intention of resisting, but he spreads me open, teasing my core with his fingers, dragging moisture to my backside. I’m a goner.
“Slow, you promise?” I ask. He confirms with a small chin thrust. I touch my forehead against his gently and close my eyes. “If this messes up all of your progress…”
“Stop with the worrying, it’s going to be fine, better than fine, let me show you.” My knees are pulled forward by his mammoth hands, and I’m hovering over Evan’s solid heavy cock. Lifting his hips until he skims my soaking wet apex, sliding torturously along my folds until I’m full on panting. “See?” I nod yes. “Good?”
“Ahh yessss, so fucking good.”
“More?” I don’t answer him with words, tilting my hips back and using my free hand to grasp his cock and guide his velvety length inside of me. Sinking down I impale myself to the hilt. He fills me so perfectly, so completely I just pause there feeling the pulse within my walls.
“Fuck, you're so tight, baby, you feel so damn good, don’t move for a minute, let me just feel you.” His eyes are closed, and his hands remain clutching my ass, digging his fingers into my flesh harshly, reigning in all of his power. I can sense him mentally and physically collecting himself, holding back. I’m at a slight disadvantage with one hand restrained, but I’m still able to bend and press my lips against his chest.
“Mmm,” a moan grumbles from his throat and now it’s my turn to hold back, that sound would send me out of this stratosphere if I weren’t worried about hurting him. His fingers relax, and he slides his hands to my waist.
“Stay still.” God all I want to do is move, his command feels impossible, but I obey and keep still. I clench around him tempting and begging him to let me lift and plunge. His eyes are open now watching his own hands smooth up my sides and around to my breasts where he palms them capturing each hard bud between his fingers and tugging softly working them into sensitive pink peaks.
I’m nearly at his mercy with one hand shackled to the headboard but I’ve still got control of my other one, and I use it to skim over his chest and down his abs.
“Do you trust me? Really trust me, baby?”
“Of course,” I answer with no hesitation because I do trust him, exhaustively, to the end of time, and back I trust him.
Taking my free hand, he raises it above his head where my other is detained. From out of nowhere he produces a key and without even looking he unlocks the cuffs and keeping the chain around the pillar of the bed he restrains my other hand leaving me with zero control. This is a place I swore I’d never allow myself to be again, but I’m not scared, there is no fear involved with this restraint, just a rush of adrenaline bringing me to the edge of sanity. He stares up at me reverently; the room is dark other than the glow of the small lamp at the side of the bed.
“You look so fucking beautiful.” He breathes before taking my breast to his mouth and sucking until a sharp zing shoots to my core. I suck in my tummy and relish in the complete abandon of control, he can do anything he pleases with me now, and I can’t stop him… as if I’d try. Anything he wants is fair game. I’m down for it all and I have no idea what that could be, but I sense he’s got a lot to teach me.
Blowing out a meditative controlled breath, Evan gives me permission to move, finally! “Slow baby, give it to me slow like this.” He grips my hips and begins to move them up, and I clench my walls around him, milking every inch of him as he goes. His eyes roll back into his head, and I’m struck with the thought that it’s me that makes him feel this way, me that takes him to this place, only me.
How could I be blessed to have a man who is so beautiful and worships me, takes me to places I’ve never even known existed and fills my heart and soul with mind blowing desire?
He continues to slide in and out of me, alternating techniques. First gliding me down to take him completely, pulling me tight and tilting my pelvis so that he hits my hot button, every single time. Then he starts with the small quick penetrations of only his head. That light switch that clicks the moment we’ve left this plain and entered a different existence snaps and we are there in a land of delirious paradise, the world revolves around him and I.
“Mia, look at me, baby.” I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed, but I open them now and stare down at my arms into his eyes and I swear I see a spark of concern there, maybe even panic when he says.
“I’m not sure I can hold back.” I’m suddenly conflicted; I need to align my mind with my body again. I've been floating solely on physical awareness ignoring my common sense and the fact that we truly should not be doing this at all.
“Relax, deep breaths, try to slow your pulse,” I say softly stilling my body over him while he gathers his wits and follows my instructions. I can’t do anything but talk him down; I can’t move my hands to stroke his cheek or hold him. I think he’s got it handled when I feel him swell inside of me; he grabs my hips lifting me up and slamming me down around him!
“Ahhhh!” he yells and I see a glimmer of ‘Well I tried’ flash in his eyes as he repeats the action while I disregard the warning bells in my head telling me ‘Stop! This is too much! He’s going to get hurt!’ I make it easier for him by lifting my weight up and down decreasing his strain and God willing saving him from injury. Hampered by worry, my body betrays me and I have to start over paving the path to orgasm. I don’t waste any time though, two or three forceful thrusts, and I’m teetering on the edge. My head drops to his chest where I can feel his heart beating wildly, and I hear the handcuffs clanking rhythmically above us. He’s slick with sweat and my cheek slides across his skin with every pump of our hips.
“Come for me, sweet thing,” he says so quietly I almost don’t hear him, but I do hear him and I do come, immediately on command and simultaneously with him. I grip the slat of the headboard with superhuman strength and explode around him; the electric shock and heat of my orgasm penetrate every cell in my body. This is nothing like coming alone in the tub just an hour ago; this experience is untouchable, incomparable, unequaled by any other, pure bliss and satisfaction. My muscles have gone to mush, and I feel Evan’s tension evaporate under me.
Mind body and soul adjoined I’ve never felt more a part of him than I do now. Maybe it’s the trust of allowing him to have total control of my body, maybe the knowledge that he would risk his life to be inside of me. I don’t know which. “Kiss me.”
“I can’t,” I muttered exhausted and sated I can’t imagine moving one more muscle let alone lifting my head to kiss him.
“Kiss me,” he repeats and I kiss the skin directly under his mouth. “Not good enough.”
> “I’m weak,” I argue.
“Now you know how I feel every second of my life, when I’m with you, when I’m not, when I think of you, when I dream of you. You make me weak and somehow strong at the same time.” He says such beautiful things to me, expresses himself so lovingly; how can I deny him a simple kiss?
I muster the minuscule amount of energy I have left and pull myself up to kiss his perfect full lips. While I’m doing so, he reaches behind his head to release my hands, reconnecting one cuff to his own wrist again. I don’t even care; he can leave them on forever for all I care right now.
“Mmmm much better, Mrs. Lawson.” I sit up, energy slightly restored from his kiss and straddling his hips I can feel that he’s semi-hard inside of me, damn he recovers fast!
“Glad I meet your standards Mr. Lawson,” I say in my best business voice. “Are you ok? I mean how’s your head, does it hurt?”
“Lady, after that I wouldn’t tell you if I were having ten out of ten pain.”
“EVAN!” I yell and slap his stomach. “I’ll be sure to never let it happen again then!” Ha! The game, set match! He looks thoughtfully at me and fesses up.
“Yes, my head hurts,” he admits.
“Scale of one to ten?”
“Seven.”
“Damn it, Evan, you have to let me out of these cuffs to get your pain meds, I mean it.” I look at the clock and realize it’s not just time for pain meds but several others.
“And where’s Cecelia? I thought you said she was in charge of your meds now?”
“I lied,” he purses his lips waiting for my explosive response, but I don’t give him hell like I want to. I really have to convince him to free me.
“Ok, so you lied. Now, what cha gonna do about it?”
“Where are they?” I hitch the thumb of my free hand over my shoulder. “Clear over there!”
“We can go together.”
“Good God Evan, just let me go for a minute; I’ll let you tie me down to the bed with rope if you just get this off of me so I can help you!” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Really? I’d love that, you know.”
“Oh stop it, let me go!”
“Promise first.”
“Promise what? To let you tie me to the bed with a rope? Why would you want to do that?” I was just teasing about the rope, but it seems I’ve accidentally offered him something I didn’t even know he wanted.
“Yes. And as for ‘why’ you’ll just have to trust me. You liked giving yourself to me completely just now, didn’t you? All your worries are gone, allowing me to care for you without feeling the obligation to reciprocate?”
“Well…yes, I guess. I haven’t really had time to process my feelings about it yet, but that sounds about right. Have you done that before? And you never told me why you have handcuffs.”
“Mia” he has more to say, but I can tell he’s hurting.
“Let me go and then you can answer that, ok?” I encourage him softly, and he folds. When he’s released me, I rub my wrists and let his cock slide from my body noticing that he’s nearly regained his full rigidity; even in severe pain this man amazes me. When I look at him with question and surprise, he shrugs.
“That’s what you do to me.” Little does he know he does the same to me. I bend and grab my robe slip it on and make my way to the little pharmacy set up on the dresser. After he’s had his meds, and I’m comforted by the knowledge that his pain will be relieved soon, I return to bed but this time on my own side and robed. He has turned to his side as he seems to do when he’s hurting, and I mirror him with my palms pressed together in a prayer pose under my pillow.
“So? Rope and handcuffs?”
“Well to start with I should tell you I remember everything from before the accident. It all came back to me after the surgery.”
“You do? Like, everything?”
“Yes. Much of it, I wish hadn’t been recovered, but also so much that I am grateful to have back.” I’m shocked, I never considered that he might regain his entire memory; I just wanted him to be my Evan and not the dark punishing Evan.
“I had remembered that before I met you I lived a lifestyle that I’m not sure you know much about.”
“A lifestyle? Like what?”
“Have you ever heard of Dominant and Submissive relationships?” My mind scrambles to assemble the little I know about BDSM, which isn’t much.
“You…you hurt women?” I prop myself up on my elbow when he pauses. “You do… or did I mean, didn’t you?”
“Yes. With their consent, most of the time.” He looks down at the space on the mattress between us smoothing the already wrinkle free sheet.
“What do you mean ‘most of the time’?” I put my finger under his chin gently to bring his eyes back to mine; I need to see what’s there.
“I mean that I would have welcomed the absence of some of my memories.”
“Oh.” Now it’s my turn to examine the sheet. “So I’m confused. You don’t want to remember, but you want to have that kind of lifestyle with me?”
“No, not at all. You’re my wife, and I adore you, Mia, I cherish you, I would never hurt you intentionally. I used to be a monster to the women I was involved with. I never had feelings for any of them. I used them up and threw them away. Except Cameron, she was different.”
A pang of jealousy stabs me in the chest. I feel stupid having feelings like this towards a dead woman!”
“How was she different?” I’m curious; even if it hurts I need to know. He tucks a wild stray of hair behind my ear and traces my jaw with his finger until he reaches my mouth where he stills on my bottom lip before dropping his hand with a thump onto the bed.
“I raised Cameron; I was a sort of father figure to her until…until she fell in love with me. I’ve told you before, I should have never touched her, but she disobeyed me so entirely; I went crazy. I wasn’t used to anyone challenging me. No one would dare question me in business, and my subs, of course, were always compliant with my rules.”
“Subs?” I’m pretty sure I know what he means, but I want him to explain it to me anyway.
“Submissive, a person who gives up control in return for protection and shelter. Or that’s how I saw it then, and I mistreated them terribly. Having that kind of power with my old personality was a dangerous combination.”
“You had slaves…”
“I guess you could say that. They did anything I wanted, and I punished them when they didn’t.”
“You don’t feel that way now, do you? I mean is it something you need?” I’m internally having a little panic attack. I would have never guessed this about him before his surgery.
“The only thing I need is you, baby. If you want to play and explore in the bedroom, I would love that but if not, I’m perfectly content with what we have now. Perfectly.”
I puff out my cheeks in relief. “Did you ever wonder why my restaurants and clubs were named Dominus?” I blink several times remembering the moment when I searched the internet, stalking my then unknown patient.
“It crossed my mind for a second when I first heard it; I thought it was a funny coincidence.”
“No coincidence, the clubs promote the lifestyle.”
I let that sink in a little; he’s filthy rich because of BDSM. Shit, how do I feel about that? The food he serves is out of this world fantastic though, he would have been successful with that alone, but still.
“I married a sadist?” He looks at me with lazy eyes; the pain medication is kicking in.
“What do you think, baby? Am I a sadist?”
“Well, no, not the man I know.”
“There you go then.” I lower myself back to the pillow and turn to spoon with him while he sleeps. Lord knows I’m not going to be able to now; my mind is conjuring up all sorts of images and scenes. I’m glad his heart isn’t set on me being a submissive; I don’t think I have it in me. My past
haunts me still. I’m lightyears beyond where I ever expected to be with Evan, but it’s all still there, occupying its own little corner of my mind, as it always will be.
It’s four a.m. I can see the time reflected onto the ceiling by the clock on the table of Evans side of the room. I’m laying here exhausted but unwilling to move from his arms for my sleeping pills. I’ve let my mind wander all night about Evan’s past, the way he lived his life before his accident, the things he did with women, to them.
At first, I couldn’t imagine him that way but after a while of deep contemplative thought I realized he exhibits many traits of a dominant personality. He’s bossy for one, something I rather like most of the time. And he has no personable manners, he apologizes for nothing, thanks no one for anything, expects nothing less than perfection and complete loyalty. He likes to lead in the bedroom, another thing I’m partial to, maybe I am more submissive than I thought? Well, it doesn’t matter; I’m not labeling what we have, other than being bound by God and law.
After mulling Evan’s past for hours, I switch to imagining our future together and the wedding that he owes me. Since I was essentially tricked into marriage, even though I would have gone willingly, I want a ceremony. Nothing lavish, just close friends and family, at the house in Seattle maybe, in the garden this spring. It’s a perfect place with flowers that don’t have to be bought because they grow there, a path to walk down to a beautiful gate to stand in front of.
Although I’m not sure I can say my vows out loud standing next to that gate, the thought of Evan fucking me against the cold wrought iron bars in the cold fall of last year might be slightly distracting.
I smile into the darkness and switch gears several more times, I think of the kittens, my problems with Isaac and Mr. Saint, how easy it is to be taken care of by Cecelia. I’ve gone through each of my friends’ lives and realized how out of touch I am with all of them.
Thoughts of Cameron and how Evan raised her and then punished her for being independent and for loving him are the ones that surprisingly disturb me the most. I felt jealousy earlier but with more consideration, I feel sorry for her. He was the only male role model in her life, and he’s more beautiful than any dad I can imagine. I’d be shocked if she hadn’t fallen for him. But his life was nothing to model her own after, other than being well educated and successful in business, Evan was most likely poison for her.
