With Hearts Aflame: Valentine's Day Box Set

by Maren Smith

  He knew she was looking for mockery, but she'd find none there. He'd been honest when he said she'd captivated him. In fact, he'd have to guard that she didn't wrap him around her little finger. Incredibly, for the first time, he was ready to commit to a woman and he'd only known her for three short days.

  Eric brought his mouth down to hers in a delicious sensual merging of lips, tongue and warm breath. When he raised his head, he looked at her dazed expression and chuckled softly.

  "Maybe we should take this discussion outside before our dinner gets cold."

  "Uh—um, oh my." At a loss for words, she had to nod her agreement.

  "You are an enigma," he teased. "Are you the same woman who a moment ago was channeling a great orator. Now you're tongue-tied like an innocent teenager. Will the real Valerie Thornton please stand up?"

  "Nuh-uh. The real Valerie can't stand up. You have kissed her until her mind is numb and her body is non-functional. If you let me go right now, I'll sink into a puddle of goo at your feet."

  "Goo doesn't sound very sexy, nor is it very appetizing right before dinner, baby."

  "Then you better not let go. Maybe you should give me mouth-to-mouth and try to resuscitate me." Straining on tiptoe, she reached for more, her lips soft and plump from their previous kiss.

  "No problem. As a reservist, I'm also trained as a first responder. Mouth-to-mouth seems to be exactly what you need in this situation." His mouth claimed hers and she moaned as he pulled her up to his chest, holding her tight. A few moments passed before he reluctantly lifted his head. She lay limp and languid in his arms. "If there is no response from mouth-to-mouth, I believe protocol is to stimulate the heart with vigorous chest massage. It's a dirty job ma'am, but someone's got to do it."

  "Mmm, yes please," she sighed, clinging to his shoulders. He had straightened and risen to his full height to save his back. He chuckled when he realized she was too far gone in her passion to realize her feet dangled uselessly, at least a foot off the floor.

  "You are delicious, baby." He let her slip down his body, pressing his uncomfortably hard cock into her soft belly for a moment before reluctantly setting her on her feet. He wanted more, his throbbing cock proof of how much he wanted more, but he wasn't going to risk their budding relationship by jumping in dick first as he'd always done in the past. This time was going to be different. "How about we put this on pause while we eat? We have more to discuss and you have two more classes before we take this further."

  "Seriously? You want to wait? Why?"

  "I'm turning over a new leaf."

  "Why is that?"

  "Mostly because I don't want to mess up a very promising beginning. Before you came into my club this past week, I had already begun to see short-term relationships and one night stands as a path to a solitary old age. Those vacuous encounters only fulfill one need. That may be good for a young man, but it's not for me anymore. In fact, it has been over two months since I've done more than play platonically."

  "You mean, like with us the other day? You'd play with the woman but not take your own satisfaction?"

  "Actually, I've taken over mentoring the new Doms. That means I help with scenes, demonstrating techniques and giving pointers, but I'm not involved more than that."

  "Huh… All those young, half-naked women throwing themselves at your feet and begging to serve you… they aren't a temptation?"

  "Surprisingly, no. I want more."

  She studied him thoughtfully for several long moments before her eyes began to sparkle mischievously and her lips tilted slowly into an especially lustful grin. "I will be happy to be all the 'more' you want, Sir Eric."

  Laughing delightedly, Eric pulled her into his arms and planted a playful smack on her lips. "I am certainly counting on that, my sweet."

  With the air cleared, they settled into a cozy dinner with non-stop conversation. There were no awkward or uncomfortable pauses and they found they had more in common than they'd expected. Both hailing from Texas, they loved Tex-Mex and the Dallas Cowboys—naturally. They also shared an interest in baseball (Val's stemming from her son's high school days), a love of bad B-movie horror flicks and an affinity for tequila. He took his straight; hers came with lime juice, sugar, and rimmed in coarsely cracked salt, all blended into the form of a top shelf margarita.

  She'd been shocked to find out they shared an interest in yoga and meditation. He'd teasingly acted offended, as if his size alone made him an unenlightened meathead. She'd responded that size didn't matter to her—wink, wink—it was how he used it that counted. After they finished laughing, they'd both admitted that they found meditation a positive outlet for tension and a way to control stress levels. As a hotheaded young SEAL, Eric had discovered it was an effective anger management tool and later as an officer found it useful when leading similar young men during wartime situations. It had helped him earn his reputation for being a cool bastard in combat and had served him well as a Dominant.

  They followed dinner with a cozy soak in her in-ground spa. True to his word, he left without having sex. Although his dick was hard enough to pound nails, he walked away that evening with the promise of things to come in his kiss and some mild groping. He could go without sex, although he never had, not since he'd been a horny eighteen-year-old.

  Tonight had proved they had other things to base a relationship on. She seemed to be perfect for him. She was easy to talk to, putting him at such ease that he found himself sharing personal stories, which he rarely did. She'd talked about her family, her two kids and the impact her husband's death had on everyone. She'd worried that he didn't want to hear all her sad stories, but he had been interested, genuinely wanting to get to know her better. He'd learned that her husband had left her comfortable financially. Not rich, but she'd been able to pay off her mortgage, send her kids to college, and still not have to work if she didn't want to. He admired her drive to finish school at her age and her need to feel useful. As a therapist, she fulfilled that need by helping troubled couples navigate turmoil and crises, assisting them to fix issues and problems in their marriages, something that she hadn't been able to do in her own.

  As he drove away that evening, he was amazed that she'd had the nerve to come that first night. Sexually, she'd learned that even when she asked for what she wanted, her needs went unfulfilled. In a relationship with him, she wouldn't have to worry about being unsatisfied. It would be his job to coax the sexual submissive to the surface without squelching her newfound independence. He found that equally desirable. A blend of the two is what he wanted in his wife.

  Wife? Where had that come from? He was so stunned by the word, that he lost track of where he was and almost missed his turn off. Slow down, Eric, see where the week takes you, he warned. When she'd finished her class, he'd ask her to enter into an exclusive couple's contract. Then they could take it slowly, get to know each other over weeks and months to see if they had something long term. It all sounded like a sane, rational plan. Rational and calculated, and not at all what he wanted. He wanted Valerie ensconced in his bed and he didn't want to wait to make it so. Images of her cooking in his kitchen, watching horror movies on the couch after making love, eating Mexican and doing tequila shots, all as Dave Matthews played in the background, swamped his thoughts. He also wanted her by his side at The Club. As he changed lanes, he saw his goofy grin in his rearview mirror and knew the future he envisioned was inevitable.

  Chapter Five

  The following day, Val returned for class anxious to see Eric. Her excitement quickly turned to disappointment when she heard he was away on business. The message he'd left her was brief, stating he was sorry that he couldn't join her but to pay close attention to her instructors or else there would be an encore performance of Monday's spanking. To Val, that wasn't a threat of any sort, more like an enticement to be naughty.

  Without his diverting presence, she found she was able to focus on the agenda for the day, which included more safety precautions, including the con
dom policy and the proper sanitization of equipment and tools. The class also included a thorough demonstration of a variety of BDSM toys, ranging from clamps to gags, and anal plugs to vibrators. A representative from a local boutique was on hand to show her wares and after class would be available if anyone wanted to make purchases. It all had Val wondering what Eric kept in his duffle bag. Toward the end of class, the students were directed toward the dungeon, where they would be treated to a demonstration of impact play with a variety of instruments.

  Val was astonished to see Mistress Tara, the model for the demonstration, restrained to a St. Andrew's cross. Her husband, Master Samson, had come in early specifically to participate. He addressed the class as Julie busied herself readying her Dom's tools, laying out a variety of punishment instruments on a nearby table.

  Samson called for silence and greeted the two-dozen or so students in the class. "You are in luck; my wife has presented us with a perfect opportunity to complete the objectives for today's class. I was asked by Master Eric to provide you with a demonstration of impact implements and since Tara here has been a naughty girl, we thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you to witness a real punishment session as well."

  "But we thought Mistress Tara was a Domme?" one of the male students asked. It was obvious by his bright eyes and flushed skin that he was titillated by the thought of the demanding Mistress receiving her comeuppance.

  "Tara is actually a switch. That means she enjoys both dominance and submission. Until she met me, she didn't know she had these submissive traits. As we explored our own dynamic it became clear that as a bi-sexual, she enjoyed dominating females, but also enjoyed succumbing to the control and authority of a man."

  Samson paused, allowing time for questions before continuing. "Usually, I start with a thorough explanation of the reason for the punishment, often asking the submissive to list the infractions and discuss expectations for proper behavior. So we will begin there."

  He addressed his submissive. "Tara, explain the actions that have led you to be naked on this cross."

  "I was disobedient and did not follow your rules, Sir."

  "And what rules exactly did you fail to follow?"

  "I came on to one of the new students."

  "Why is that against the rules?"

  "Because I come on rather strong and tend to scare the new subs away like frightened rabbits, Sir."

  "Very good, Tara. You see class; my dear wife seems to get off by freaking out the new recruits, often to the detriment of D/s ratio. It was Master Eric's decision, with my wholehearted agreement, to put her through retraining, following appropriate punishment."

  He walked to the table and appeared to peruse the available devices. "That brings us to the start of our little demonstration. I will ask Tara to rate each implement by severity and describe what she feels as we go along. I like to put my own little twist on the matter. As an experienced sub, I would expect her to be able to identify the implements by sound and sensation alone. Blindfold her, Julie."

  The sub stepped up and slipped a blindfold over her Mistress' eyes. She asked softly if she could see and Tara shook her head in response. Master Samson selected his first punishment tool—a flogger. He flicked his wrist sending the flails snapping against her bare buttocks. A hiss rent the air followed by a groan and a half dozen more strokes.

  "Name." Samson demanded softly.

  "Flogger, Sir. The Elk, I believe."

  "Good. Number?"

  "Five, Sir."

  "Class, five on a scale of ten means moderate severity." As he worked the elk hide ribbons across her buttocks and thighs, her skin took on a rosy blush, in contrast to the creamy white of her back and lower legs. "How does it feel, Tara?"

  "Lovely, Sir. Like a firm caress, with a thud and very little sting."

  "Hmm… Not much of a punishment then is it, my dear. We will try something else," he announced and the flogging stopped.

  Her groan of disappointment echoed through the large, near-empty room, as did her Dom's answering chuckle. Samson next approached her with a long black paddle.

  Splat. "Ahhh, fuck!" Tara shouted with the force of the blow.

  "None of that," Samson stated firmly. "Remember your manners in front of company. Name?"

  "The rubber paddle, Sir."

  "Very good, Tara. Number?"

  "Eight," she cried, only to change her mind and yell, "Eight and a half!" after another blow.

  "Now we're getting somewhere. About six of these should do. Describe the sensation to the class while I finish up here, dear."

  "It stings like a son-of-a-bitch, Sir."

  "Tara Louise!" Master Samson barked.

  "Sorry, Sir."

  After the rubber paddle, he proceeded to a leather strap that she rated at seven. Tara took a good dozen strokes without complaint or cursing. As a reward, so he said, he followed it up with a blue furry flogger, which she called "Bunny Blue" and rated at four. She described the sensation as soothing against her red, inflamed ass. Shaking his head at her language, he stopped again and proceeded to an odd device that Val hadn't seen before. It had a black handle with three loops, approximately 18 inches long. Applying it with a quick, firm stroke, Val was amazed that it made barely a sound, only a slight swish through the air before striking the skin.

  "She never could curb her tongue." The husky baritone in her ear made her jump. She turned to see Eric behind her. He returned her grin but nodded toward the scene. Bending to whisper in her ear he explained, "That's a loopy Johnny and the sting is quite intense.

  Tara confirmed his assessment. She knew exactly what it was and for the first time during the session, begged her Dom to stop, apologizing and promising never to approach a student in class again. He of course had no intention of stopping and asked Tara for her rating.

  "Nine, Sir, and it makes the rubber paddle seem like child's play."

  "Six more and we're done here. Please count them out for the class."

  Tara counted backwards from six and by the time she'd reached one, was keening loudly, her wail a continuous mournful sound that echoed through the large nearly empty playroom. After the final blow, Val watched as Samson tossed the wicked tool to Julie and approached his wife. He slipped his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her ear. Val couldn't hear, but she imagined he was offering her words of comfort. As he spoke, his other hand, large like a bear's paw, started gently caressing the inflamed skin on her bottom.

  To Val, it was a sweet moment between the couple. It confused her. The demonstration although fascinating had been intense, but at times playful. The banter between the two was amusing, but in the end, Tara had been contrite and apologetic. As he took her down from the cross, Julie was quick to wrap a sub blanket around her shoulders as Samson lifted his wife and carried her away for a little privacy.

  "What did you think of the demonstration?"

  "It's a paradox. Pleasure and pain, submission and dominance, both at extreme ends of the spectrum, but so close that they fit like pieces of a puzzle."

  "Insightful assessment and so true."

  "I thought you wouldn't be able to make it today, Master Eric?"

  "I didn't either, but there was a break in the case and I was able to get away for little bit. Aren't you happy to see me, subbie?"

  "Of course, Master. I was disappointed when I heard you couldn't be here, but I understand work. Was it for Rossi?"

  "Yes. I think I mentioned last night I'm either here or there."

  "Doesn't leave much social or leisure time it seems."

  "When it's important to me, I make time." His expression had turned serious, the whole time looking deeply into her eyes. "I actually need to speak to you about something. Class is almost over so I think you can be excused to join me in my office for a few moments to talk."

  Not offered an option, he clasped her hand and pulled her along behind him. Having been there before, she wasn't distracted by her surroundings. Instead, her mind was ful
l of dread. Had he changed his mind? Was she too inexperienced, too timid, or too old and out of shape?

  "Stop it, Valerie." Eric ordered as he closed his office door behind them. "I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful head. What I have to discuss isn't bad, at least I don't think it is. Your response remains to be seen."

  His cryptic statement made her lips compress and turn downward in concern. It certainly hadn't cleared anything up for her.

  "I wanted to speak to you about tomorrow night. After the last class, it's traditional for students to stay and enjoy The Club while its open, giving them a chance to observe, mix and mingle. Usually this is a week night when we aren't at full capacity but because of a scheduling mishap, graduation has fallen on the same night as a demonstration event and Carousel."

  Shaking her head, she indicated her state of confusion.

  "I'm scheduled to give the demonstration. This was long before you and I met, so I have a pre-arranged partner."

  "Oh," her one word spoke volumes. She should have known it was a pipe dream for a man of his experience to commit to just one woman.

  "The wheels are turning again. Let me finish."

  She nodded, but couldn't bring herself to look at him.

  "Valerie, look at me."

  She couldn't do it and shook her head. As she wrung her hands, she saw his large ones cover hers and stop the motion.

  "I asked you here to see if you wanted to be my partner."

  Her head instantly came up, her eyes searching his out.

  "Truly? I'd love to."

  He grinned at her eagerness. "Don't you think you should find out what the demonstration is, before you agree?"

  "No. I trust you."

  Those three little words seemed to ignite a fire inside him, for he immediately pulled her from her chair and into his arms. One large hand cupped her head and brought her in for a steaming kiss. Like a furnace, he was capable of creating extreme heat inside her and it circulated throughout her entire system. His other hand slipped to her bottom, and cupping it firmly he pulled her in close, his notably hard erection pressing against her belly.