Come Back to Me (Bound to You Book 2)

by Jane Henry

  Surrendered.

  She wanted his hand, his mouth, all of him… God, he was so hot, so strong, every bit of him, from the breadth of his lap to the strength in his hands, as he embraced her.

  “That was very good,” he praised. “We'll be doing little sessions like that.”

  Little?

  “After I warmed you up, your numbers lowered. You can take more after a warm-up. Same intensity, but you didn't increase your numbers.” Ah. Well that made sense. He hadn't been swinging any harder or using a different method.

  His hand reached for the back of her head, and guided her head into his lap as he stroked her hair. “My plans for you next will require your focus. So let yourself relax here with your head in my lap for a while. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Share what's on your mind,” he reminded. “When I ask you to rate, give me a number. Respectful in the way you address me. This is what I ask of you.”

  Well, that didn't seem so hard.

  “You know one of your rules is to eat regularly, but you won't have to worry about that this weekend, because I'll make sure you do.”

  She nodded.

  Talk. Rate. Respectful. Yes, Sir.

  Yes, she could totally do that.

  “I'll hold your phone unless you need it so you aren't tempted to be distracted,” he continued in a low whisper.

  She frowned.

  What?

  She lifted her head. “You're taking my phone?”

  His eyes slightly narrowed, he nodded. “Yes, bonita,” he said. “Not as punishment, and certainly not permanently. But for this weekend, I want your focus where it belongs.”

  Still frowning, she put her head back in his lap.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said.

  “All right. Go take your shower now.”

  Meredith was surprised at his instruction. Still turned on by the spanking he'd given her, she'd been hoping for something more exciting than a shower, and wanted to push him back on the bed and take things a bit further. She knew better than to question him, though.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said again.

  He nodded his approval as she stood. Her eyes flitted to her robe hanging up on the hook just inside her closet. She looked back at him, wondering if she had permission, but with a quick shake of his head, he answered her. She looked down.

  No robe.

  Shit.

  She lifted her eyes back to his, and he gave a small, encouraging smile. Then his eyes went to the door. She knew what he meant.

  We're alone. Leave your robe here. I like to watch you. It's okay.

  She opened their bedroom door and quickly stopped to grab a towel from the linen closet before she went to the bathroom to take the shower. It was only when the steaming hot water from the shower hit her skin that she realized they'd just communicated—her, asking him a question, him giving his answer—without having uttered a word.

  ***

  Paolo waited for Meredith in the kitchen. He expected she'd anticipate his waiting for her in their bedroom, and was bent on making sure he intentionally unsettled her.

  Cruel, some would say, but he reasoned that in order for her to look to him for guidance, he needed to make sure she didn't grow complacent. He had to keep her on her toes. Always, he needed to stay one step ahead of her and teach her to follow his lead.

  She was doing exactly what he hoped she would—trusting him. She was willing to forgive the hurt months of withdrawal had inflicted, and she was ready to do what he asked of her. Now was time to move forward.

  The temptation to take advantage of the power he had came in waves. A little voice that whispered Stay in bed. She'll do whatever you ask her to, the heat of his arousal clouding his vision as he watched her walk to the bathroom unclothed. She won't say no. You can have whatever you want.

  But no. She needed him to stay strong, and exercising self control was crucial. And if he demanded her instant and unhesitating obedience, it followed that he, too, would have to thwart his own will that demanded he fulfill his own desires first. He wanted to go back to sleep. There was a game on TV he wanted to watch that afternoon. It would be easy to go back to the way things were. He could tell her to go shopping, or let her lounge around reading books, or putting around in the yard.

  But no.

  Things weren't going to be the way they were before because now, things were different.

  It was not time for a constant exchange of power, as he was aiming for this weekend. He knew somehow it was too soon—too much—that they both needed to train themselves for the exercise of power exchange. Already, he felt the drain on him. The effort of controlling himself, of maintaining his composure, of meeting her emotional and physical needs. And it had been less than twenty-four hours. He could maintain the weekend, of that he had no doubt. And where they'd go after that would be something they'd discuss and decide on together. Finding their place in the spectrum of power exchange—as much as he suspected she craved it and would thrive on it—would take time to ease into.

  He'd read about doms who were “all or nothing”. They'd dive in head-first, eager to achieve the level of understanding, peace, and eroticism a dominant and submissive agreement would serve them. Sometimes they burned out. It was not uncommon for a dom to withdraw, completely drained and unprepared to handle the effort it took to be a dom. It was not uncommon for a submissive to become overwhelmed, and feel as if she could do nothing right. Instead of feeling empowered by her submission, she'd feel deflated. He read these anecdotes with interest, looking for a common thread, things he could learn from. What were some pitfalls he could avoid with Meredith? He'd gleaned some ideas.

  Too soon—they took on too much, too fast, like someone who'd grown used to a sedentary life trying to hike the Grand Canyon. Paolo reasoned it was better to ease into it, and gradually strengthen one's ability to exchange power. Both her willingness to submit and his willingness to lead needed to be practiced.

  Too little communication. He'd read about doms who mistook the need to be in charge as blanket permission to make all decisions blindly. They didn't ask questions, or listen to their submissives. At times, it was a submissive who was reluctant to communicate. She told herself what she wanted was selfish, disordered, or weak, and allowed her fears to silence her.

  Paolo suspected that one of the ways he could eventually achieve what he was aiming for—Meredith's implicit trust and obedience—was by learning to understand Meredith's cues, and her learning to understand his. He'd already begun the process. He could see in the downturn of her lips, the clench of her fists, or her unwillingness to maintain eye contact, when he needed to probe. And he would teach her to read his cues, as well. It wouldn't go well for her, at times; he'd have to teach her by hauling her over his lap occasionally, of that he had no doubt, but she would learn.

  And it was the learning that would draw them closer together.

  Another mistake he observed was bad timing. There were times when the power exchange of a D/s dynamic was made nearly impossible by simple things like physical distance, and lack of time. He read of one couple who attempted the exchange while maintaining a long distance relationship. The lack of physical interaction, and the delayed communication made it challenging. Though Paolo suspected some couples could make it work, he knew Meredith could not go too long without feeling the assurance of his physical touch. What was far more common, though, was the “too busy” dynamic. Jobs, commitments, the lack of one-on-one time to focus on the needs of the other, often made a D/s dynamic challenging.

  Some couples found their way around the obstacles they encountered and adapted. Some did not, and folded.

  Paolo had spent the past few weeks mentally working through potential obstacles.

  He'd let her down once before, and let her down badly. Hell, his withdrawal after the accident could've ended their marriage.

  He'd be damned if he'd let her down again.

 
***

  Meredith turned in the shower, and yelped when the water hit her bottom. She hadn't anticipated how badly the hot water would sting her skin. It felt like hot water striking a sunburn. Immediately turning so that the water hit her front instead, she reached out and lowered the temperature. Paolo hadn't given her a time frame this time, but washed quickly, as she anticipated lingering wouldn't go over so well.

  She washed her hair, rinsed it out, and massaged conditioner in, letting it sit. Next, she grabbed her razor, and quickly ran it over her legs. Her heart was racing. Standing in the steaming shower, with water blurring her vision, she paused, and wondered. Why was her heart pounding? Was she afraid of upsetting Paolo again? No, not really. She'd only been instructed to shower, and she was obeying him. But as she thought it over, she realized she really had no idea what was coming.

  What had he read? What would he expect of her? Would he give her more rules? Maybe.

  Would he spank her again? No doubt. But when, she wasn't sure. She certainly wasn't wanting in that department any time soon. She lowered her head, as the hot water trickled down her scalp and over her shoulders.

  Did he have more toys hidden away somewhere? Yikes. She gulped.

  As much as she enjoyed the way he was focused on her, Meredith already felt like she wanted a little time alone. She wanted Paolo to go do his own thing, and she would do hers. She had a book she wanted to read, some shopping she'd hoped to accomplish online, an exchange she wanted to do at the mall, and a new recipe she wanted to try. How did Little Lady do this? Little Lady had to answer to Master Winston for everything. Her time was his time, all of it. Winston demanded complete obedience, in all areas, and Little Lady's undivided attention. But Meredith knew the two of them hadn't arrived at where they were overnight either. It had taken a good deal of trial and error to arrive where they were.

  Still, Meredith yearned to be in touch with her friend. She longed to connect with Little Lady, and she yearned for her encouragement and support. It would be nice to be able to talk to someone who knew what it was like. But she wasn't sure if she'd be allowed on the computer. After all, Paolo had plans for her.

  She heard a knock at the door. She froze so she could hear Paolo's voice over the sound of the water.

  “Mer, finish up,” Paolo ordered. “We need to move on.”

  “Okay!” she said, loud enough to be heard. “Yes, Sir!”

  Her heart raced as she quickly rinsed off and shut the water off. She grabbed her towel from the hook next to the shower curtain, stepped out, and quickly dried off, before she opened the door. No Paolo. She trotted quickly to the bedroom. Still, no Paolo.

  Slipping off her towel, she glanced at her closet. What would he have her wear? She frowned, unsettled by the uncertainty. Why wasn't he there? Did he just expect her to come out and find him?

  Opening the drawer of her dresser, her eyes immediately dropped to the new panties Paolo bought her. Her cheeks warmed as she chose what looked like the most benign pair—a thin white thong—and stared at it, trying to figure out how to put it on. The thin part had to go in the back, she figured, the front part covering her—oh, gosh. She felt warmth spreading to her neck.

  This is your husband, she chided herself. She shook her head, and pulled the thong up. It felt odd, almost like she wanted to hop on her toes to wiggle it into place, but she couldn't deny she looked sexier. Turning, so that she could see the way her backside looked in the new panties, she gasped when she saw herself in the reflection. Red stripes, crisscrossed against her smooth white skin, one just gracing her lower back, and several that hit the tops of her thighs. Gingerly, she reached one finger out and touched the sensitive skin.

  His marks. Her heart thumped as she traced a finger over and over the stripes.

  His belt.

  Meredith closed her eyes, taken by surprise at the intensity of the emotions she felt. She felt kind of… badass, if she were honest. She giggled as she pulled on a pair of yoga pants, and again felt sexier as the fabric of her pants brushed against her bare skin. Huh. She clipped on a bra and grabbed a long-sleeved lavender t-shirt to complete her casual outfit.

  Marked. Owned.

  Knowing the stripes were from his belt felt different… sexier, and somehow more personal.

  Meredith's eyes glanced at the large mirror over her dresser as she finished getting dressed. She held her head higher and lifted her chin as she looked at herself in the mirror. She belonged to him. Her cheeks were still flushed, whether from the warm shower or something else, she couldn't quite tell. Her eyes were brighter, younger-looking, even. Her eyes fell to her jewelry box. She loved wearing earrings. She chose a round pair of diamond studs, and as she put them on, her eyes traveled to the gleam of necklaces hanging from the small golden hooks behind the glass door of her jewelry box. She froze.

  It was only a week or two ago she'd first seen them online. The collars.

  Thick, beautiful, intricate locking silver and gold collars. They were nothing like the play collars in the kinky online stores she'd ventured into, giggling the whole time, as she saw studded leather collars that buckled like a belt, pink rubber collars with the words baby girl stamped on, collars with rings attached, so the dom or top could attach a chain, a fur-lined leopard-print number with the words wench emblazoned across the front. Yeah. Not her thing. Although she respected both the real and play collars people she'd read about chose, a cursory glance had quickly confirmed the notion that she would not be wearing a collar. That wasn't exactly her flavor of submissive.

  But then she'd found herself reading on a blog, a little advertisement nearly hidden in the upper right-hand corner.

  Discreet day collars. There was a picture of a professional woman at her work place, with a simple golden collar around her neck. To the untrained eye, it would merely look like a chain. Intrigued, Meredith searched.

  Dragon's tail style, a thick network of interlinking silver or gold, that looked lovely, though a bit heavy for her, with an option to add a cuff and earrings as a matched set. Persian chains, with the option to add a charm—charms included hearts, stars, and locks. Upon further investigation, she found some of the locks could actually be embedded in the chain, to prevent the wearer from removing the collar. But her eyes had dwelt on the infinity chain. Delicate, intricate, but sturdy, it signified undying love.

  She loved it.

  But she'd clicked the “x” at the top of the page before Paolo came in. She wasn't sure why it caused a stirring within her, and everything was still too new to risk his disapproval. She feared telling him she wanted a collar would push him away. And he'd just come back to her.

  She heard Paolo clinking dishes in the kitchen, and realized how much time she'd taken. Quickly, she dashed back to the bathroom, dabbed a bit of make-up on, then ran her mascara brush through her lashes. She finished with a touch of gloss and quickly stepped down the hall to the kitchen. Paolo sat at the kitchen table. In front of him, he'd placed two small plates with bagels smeared with cream cheese, and two juice glasses filled with orange juice. Meredith smiled.

  “Thank you,” she said, as her stomach grumbled, pulling out a chair and reaching for her plate. His hand snapped out and quickly but lightly slapped her hand away. She gasped and pulled her hand back as if she'd been stung by a bee. Flames of embarrassment licked at her cheeks and her eyebrows raised as she looked at him. But he didn't look angry, or even stern. He merely smiled, almost apologetically.

  “I'll feed you,” he murmured. She sat back, tingly anticipation running through her. She glanced at her juice. Would she be able to drink her juice freely? She lifted her eyes to his.

  “Very good, bonita,” he said, twinkling eyes warming her. “You waited for me. You're catching on. You may drink your juice.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, taking a tentative sip. It was cold and tangy, and she hadn't realized until her first sip how thirsty she was. Placing her glass back on the table, she watched as his large hands picked up
a bagel and tore off a small piece. He offered it to her. Raising her eyebrows, she reached a hand to his, but he narrowed his eyes and shook his head. She placed her hands in her lap, trying to play his game. He smiled his approval, as he slipped the piece of bagel into her mouth. It felt odd, being fed, as if she were a small child, but she couldn't deny that there was something attractive about it, as her lips closed over his finger and his eyes watched her lick the cream cheese off her lip. She chewed her bagel thoughtfully, washing it down with another sip of juice.

  “After breakfast, I'll clean up the dishes, and I want you to go take some time on the forum. If Little Lady is there, you may chat with her, but only her. I'll give you a specific time frame, and be in shortly.” She nodded.

  “Okay, thanks,” she said. How did he know she wanted to chat? Maybe it had just been a good guess, but in any event, she was grateful for the chance to have some time on the forum again. She mulled over how she'd approach a conversation with Little Lady, should the opportunity arise, as Paolo tore another piece of bagel and offered it to her. She smiled her thanks and opened her mouth.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, as she chewed her bagel. A strand of hair fell into her eyes as her head dipped forward. He reached and tucked it behind her ear.

  She could get used to this.

  He took a bite of his own bagel, as she swallowed her bite with another sip of juice. “When you log on, you will have thirty minutes,” he said. “I will not tell you when to log off. It will be your responsibility to watch the time.” His voice dropped, and he sobered. “If you go over your time, I'll punish you.”

  Her eyebrows raised, but she merely nodded.

  “Will you watch the clock, Meredith?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. You're free to talk to your friend. But I want you to keep in mind what I asked of you recently. What do I want you to do when you feel troubled?”

  “Come to you.”

  “Yes. That doesn't mean you can't talk to your friends. I anticipate you will want to sometimes. And you also know I may read any message you send. This afternoon, after you chat with Little Lady, we'll plan our day. Do you have anything you need to do today?”