Letting Go 2: Stepping Stones [Awakenings 5] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Michele Zurlo

  “Don’t.” He was in front of her now, gripping her chin forcefully. “Don’t you ever refer to yourself that way. You weren’t damaged. Nobody ever took the time to find the submissive woman hiding inside you who wanted to be tied up and flogged. That wasn’t your fault.”

  His mouth covered hers, and he closed his will around her, forcing her surrender. His hands were everywhere, squeezing her breast, rolling her nipple, caressing her stomach and hips, and holding her ass as he ground his cock against her. She wanted him to take off his shorts, but he had her too dazed to hold any thought for more than a few seconds. Letting them all go, she focused on the way he made her feel—happy, whole, alive, and wonderfully needy.

  Just when she thought he’d consumed her, he dropped to his knees and added his mouth to the mix. He ate pussy the same way he kissed, devouring her whole. He tongued her clit and pumped his fingers into her hole. Tendrils of heat chased tension all over her body. Her body swayed as her knees weakened. She fought to keep them under her because she knew the cuffs would dig in and leave painful bruises if she didn’t.

  “Please.” The improvised blindfold was damp over her eyes. “Please. Jonas, please.”

  “Mmmm-hmmm.” His permission vibrated through her tissues, and she came in his mouth.

  His wet lips closed over hers as he tilted her hips forward and thrust his cock into her pulsating vagina. The musky taste of her juices flooded her senses, and she felt the breeze blowing across the wet trail his face made as he slathered his kisses and her essence over her neck, chest, and breasts.

  Then he leaned back, leaving the places where he gripped her hips and where his cock met her pussy as their only points of contact. He thrust greedily four times, and then he withdrew.

  The warm tropical air caressed her body like another lover, teasing her tender skin and tantalizing the areas that cried out for Jonas’s touch. She inhaled a tremulous breath, both a reaction to her orgasm and to the emptiness he left inside her.

  His hands closed over her breasts, and he pulled her body back, cradling her against him. “You belong to me, body and soul. There is no part of you I can’t have.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, whimpering in relief at his touch. “Body and soul.”

  One hand dropped and spread across her stomach. The other parted her butt cheeks and guided his cock to her anus. He hadn’t brought additional lubrication, but she knew that didn’t matter. Her cream was slick and plentiful.

  Last night, he’d gone slow, working his way into her with the utmost care. It had been too gentle. Tonight he used a different strategy. With one thrust, he impaled her. Stars exploded in the darkness of the blindfold. Cold fusion rocked every cell up her spine and down to her toes. Moans echoed back to her, and she recognized the distorted sound of her own voice.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Oh Jonas, like that.” She was barely hanging on, and she knew he was intent on pushing her over the edge.

  He showed no mercy, and she wanted for nothing. He fucked her with quick, hard thrusts. Each one sent a riot through her body, overloading her synapses. He didn’t touch her clit at all. She didn’t care whether or not she had an orgasm because nothing could possibly feel better than this.

  But one built anyway. It detonated without warning, taking her completely by surprise. She screamed. Her entire body felt like it was falling, propped up each time he thrust home. The orgasm went on and on. Vaguely she registered the fact that he’d climaxed. His deeper shouts joined her higher pitched ones, filling the bowl of the amphitheater with their combined ecstasy.

  She felt tugging at her wrists. It took a lot longer than usual. She knew she should stand up higher to help out, but her knees were useless. If his arm hadn’t banded around her waist, she would have bruised her wrists and pulled her shoulders out of joint for sure.

  Then she was on his lap. He held her, rubbing warmth into her trembling body, until she came down. She didn’t know how long they sat there before she noticed he had pulled his shorts back on before he sat down with her.

  She kissed his collarbone. “That was amazing. Thank you.”

  “Let’s go back to the room and have dinner. You’ll sit at my feet and I’ll hand feed you.”

  His directive washed over her like a cold glass of water. She’d thought he had moved past the need to have her kneeling at his feet. She was also torn by her need to do this for him and her resentment at herself for even considering revisiting that scene. The way he’d punished her in front of all those people at the puppy show punched her in the gut with a wave of humiliation.

  The magic of the night faded, leaving her feeling empty and cold. She reached for her corset, noticing almost nothing except the way her hand trembled and the way her rapid blinking wasn’t going to hold back the flood of tears for very long.

  His hand closed around her wrist, larger and impossibly stronger, dwarfing her slender limb. Ten minutes ago, the sight of his arm on top of hers would have made her feel safe and warm. She froze.

  “No clothes. You’ll walk in front of me with nothing hiding that luscious body.”

  Heat cracked the cold, but not the kind he was probably hoping for. Raw fury seized her so quickly she was a little afraid of it. “Jonas, I’m not going to walk around here naked. It’s still daylight out.”

  He laughed, truly amused by her protest. “You don’t have a choice. I make the decisions.”

  She tried to pull her arm from his grasp, but he tightened his grip. “Let go of me.”

  The back of the stage whirled through the background as he turned her roughly to face him. His eyes were dangerously narrow. She’d never misbehaved like this before, but she’d seen him pissed off at other people, mostly Ellen, enough to know this wasn’t the time to mess with him. “You don’t give the orders, Sabrina. Perhaps you need a reminder.”

  She shook her head in a feeble gesture, but it was all she had. “I’m not walking through this place nude, and I’m not kneeling at your feet while you feed me.”

  An explanation hovered just behind her refusal, but she couldn’t give it voice. Too many conflicting emotions stole her reason. She felt like laughing and crying, screaming and curling in a ball to rock on the floor. This must be what hysteria felt like. She put her other hand over her mouth to hold it at bay.

  “This isn’t negotiable.” His clipped tone contained a warning, but she fixated on the clue.

  “You’re right. It’s not. Onion. I’m finished with this.”

  He let go of her wrist, lines of shock scrawled across his features. She’d never, not once in five years, used their safe word. He’d offered it every single time they played, but she’d never used it. “Sabrina?”

  She snatched his shirt and jerked it over her head. It was long enough to cover more of her body than the skirt and corset combined. If he wasn’t going to give up her clothes, she’d take his. She held out her hand. “Give me the room key.”

  He held up his hands. “Honey, using your safe word means we stop and talk. It doesn’t mean you storm away pissed off.”

  Perhaps for most people, that’s what it meant. But she wasn’t most people, and they hadn’t settled on any rules beforehand. That’s probably where they’d gone wrong, but she was too upset to have a conversation. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Give me the fucking key and find somewhere else to have dinner.”

  * * * *

  Jonas was at a loss for words. He still hadn’t recovered from the way she’d used their safe word. It was a point of pride that he knew her limits so well that she had never needed to call a time-out.

  This was more than a time-out. Right before his eyes, he watched his wife close off a vital part of herself as she grappled with emotions that vacillated through her face so quickly he couldn’t identify them. He didn’t want to let her leave before they talked it through, but she looked so fragile and lost, two expressions he never wanted to see on her face again, that he found himself fishing the key from his pocket and handing
it over.

  “Sabrina.” He caught her arm as she turned to leave. She shook so badly he wanted to ignore her use of the safe word and wrap her in his embrace. “Talk to me. Don’t keep this to yourself.”

  She shook her head, and he recognized that he’d pushed her too far. Only he didn’t know exactly what was wrong. They’d shared something spectacular. He’d never felt closer to her than he had when he’d held her in his arms while she’d trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He’d wanted to point out that this was the first time she’d climaxed without having any vaginal or clitoral stimulation. It was another step in her journey of sexual freedom.

  Against his better judgment, he relaxed his grip and watched her slip away. They’d gained an audience during the show, which he hadn’t seen the need to tell her about. She wasn’t the one who got off from being watched. She’d repeatedly told him the audience was inconsequential.

  Now he second-guessed everything. Her original objection to coming here had centered around post-pregnancy modesty. But he’d fixed that misconception, hadn’t he? What had he missed?

  He ate part of a flavorless dinner from the buffet in the only open dining area. Mostly he picked at the food and wondered if he’d given Sabrina enough time to think though her issues so she could talk to him. Each bite dropped into his stomach like a stone, sinking to the bottom and weighing heavily.

  When he could stand it no longer—he estimated he’d given her about an hour—he returned to the room. She didn’t answer his knock, forcing him to go to the front desk and have another keycard made.

  Inside the room, he heard no sign of her until he got to the bathroom door. He knocked. Water swished, and he heard evidence that she’d pulled the plug. By the time she opened the door twenty minutes later, she was fully dressed, and she hadn’t said a word. Her face and eyes were clear, so she hadn’t been crying. That brought him some measure of relief, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

  “Sabrina. We have to talk.”

  “I can’t,” she said, dropping her gaze, looking anywhere but at him. “Not yet.”

  The night dragged. She perked up when he called her mother’s house to talk to the kids. Rose’s smile and Ethan’s happy squeals melted his heart. God he missed his children. He studied Sabrina to see if she was homesick, but he couldn’t come to any definite conclusion.

  She spoke to him, answering his questions with concise and polite responses. When they went to bed, she wore a silky nightgown and curled up as far away as she could get without going over the edge, but she didn’t protest when he pulled her to him. It closed the distance, but it did nothing to diminish the gulf.

  He held her all night, listening to her even breathing. He wanted to wake her up, somehow force her to talk to him, but he knew it would be useless. He could make her do a lot of things, but somehow it felt wrong to force this issue, as if doing so would irrevocably damage their relationship. Then again, what if allowing her to take this time was a mistake? If he knew what was bothering her, it would be easier to choose a course of action. He debated until he couldn’t think straight, and he had no idea how long it was until he fell asleep.

  The next morning was no better. She woke refreshed and in a good mood. She smiled and laughed as she packed to return home, commenting on some of the gifts they were bringing back for friends and relatives and how she planned to spend all day Sunday snuggling on the kids. Though her jokes were underlined in somber tones, he could chalk that up to her reluctance to leave or her eagerness to see the kids.

  Heather met them at the dock to send them off. Sabrina thanked her for a lovely stay and wished her the best.

  He didn’t bother her with anything significant on the flight because he knew she would be mortified at the idea of discussing personal business where anybody might overhear.

  The four-hour layover in Miami wasn’t the right time either. His sister met them at the airport and took them to lunch at a private club in the heart of downtown. Sabrina even sanitized her answers to Samantha’s questions about what they had done on the island.

  “Was it everything you expected?” Sam’s blue eyes sparkled with the excitement of conspiracy.

  Sabrina shrugged. “I didn’t know what to expect. The beaches were gorgeous, and there was a waterfall in the forest. We saw it when we went horseback riding.”

  Sam shook her head. “No, I meant the atmosphere. People were accepting? I heard it’s supposed to be a beautiful BDSM paradise.”

  Sabrina shifted uncomfortably. Normally Jonas would enjoy watching her squirm, but on top of everything else, he couldn’t stomach her uneasiness. “Yes. Whatever your kink, nobody blinked. They stared, of course, but only if you wanted them to.”

  Color bloomed on Sabrina’s cheeks. Sam smiled at Jonas across the table. Every member of his family knew how easy it was to make Sabrina blush. His brash sister was almost never shy or embarrassed, which made her question stand out.

  “Sam, are you okay? Did something happen?”

  “Not really, no. Nothing new.” She put her fork down, her salad half-eaten. “Sometimes I just get tired of having to explain why I have two boyfriends or correct people’s assumptions that I’m a whore or endure the strange looks they give me. Lex and Stef just stare them down, but it bothers me.”

  Sabrina put a reassuring hand on Sam’s arm. “If it helps, it wouldn’t matter if you were just dating one of them. People would still make rude assumptions. It’s not a reflection of you. It’s mean-spirited and it stems from jealousy. They’re both handsome and rich, a powerful combination, and they both fell in love with you.”

  Sam smiled brilliantly. “You’re so good at putting a positive spin on things. I think that’s one of the reasons I like you so much.”

  This was also a road paved with ways to make Sabrina uncomfortable. While her ability to accept a compliment had improved, she still suffered from embarrassment if anyone gushed, and Samantha was a gusher.

  Jonas eyed his sister carefully. “Sam? Why do you want to buy Elysium? Running a business is a full-time job, not something you can fit in around your manic painting sessions.”

  Sabrina frowned at what she probably considered rude phrasing, but he knew she didn’t disapprove of the question.

  “I don’t want to run it.” Sam picked up her fork and speared some mixed greens. “I want Stef and Lex to run it. I just want some place we can go whenever we want, a place where I can walk down the street holding both of their hands and it’s completely normal. I was going to ask them to change the Isle of the Blest area to housing for people in poly relationships.”

  “So you basically want a time-share?” Sabrina’s incredulity was laced with exasperation. “You don’t have to buy an island for that.”

  “There are no destinations anywhere that cater to the poly lifestyle. I checked. People who live in triads or more either keep their relationships secret or spend their time on the fringes of the kink scene. Well, what if they aren’t into the kinky side of things? Then they have nothing.” She pounded the table with her fist to emphasize her point.

  Sabrina lifted her eyebrows at Sam’s emotional display. “I understand where you’re coming from. Elysium caters to people who want to be around others with similar interests. But it’s still a business. Are you sure you want to take on that responsibility?”

  Samantha shook her head, her long blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight. “Absolutely not. That’s why I told Stef and Lex I wanted them to buy it. I just want to visit it with them.”

  “Well, they’re looking at buying it for you.” Sabrina looked to him for support.

  “That’s what it sounded like when we talked to them.” Jonas threw his cloth napkin on the table. “If that’s not what you want, you need to have another conversation with them.”

  Sam clasped her hands together gleefully. “Does this mean you guys are going to go in on it with us? Lex said he couldn’t get a read on you.”

  Sabrina got a faraway look in her
eyes, but it ended with a flash of pain. She shook it away. “I don’t know.”

  It was an evasion that screamed reluctance, the kind that meant she was leaning away from investing. Jonas didn’t care one way or the other. He only wanted to get at the root of the reason she’d used her safe word.

  By the time they made it home, Sabrina’s mother had arrived with the kids. Rose flew into Sabrina’s arms, and he knew it was going to be nearly impossible to get her to talk. She fell asleep in Rose’s bed, the book of bedtime stories on her chest, open to the page where she’d left off reading.

  She didn’t stir when he scooped her up and carried her to their bed. The next morning, he woke to Ethan’s finger poking in his ear and calling, “Dada.” In the past week, his fifteen-month-old son had learned how to climb out of his crib, following in his big sister’s footsteps. He pulled Ethan up onto the bed and hugged the little guy.

  “Our little monkey missed you.” He looked over to find Sabrina smiling at the two of them. She snuggled against his side and caressed the side of Ethan’s face. “Good morning, baby. Are you hungry?”

  Ethan grinned and giggled, and Sabrina’s face only lit up more.

  Nothing in her behavior indicated anything was wrong, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had happened right under his nose and he’d missed it. What if he’d lost part of his wife on that island?

  Chapter Fourteen

  A week had flown by, and Jonas hadn’t forced her to talk. He hadn’t pushed the issue at all. Every time they were alone, she introduced another topic, and he seemed more than happy to accept her evasion. The awkwardness between them was slowly disappearing in the face of their regular routine. She’d gone back to work Tuesday, after taking an extra day to soak up some love from her children.

  Right now, the kids were corralled in a safe part of the yard with enough toys to keep them busy. Sabrina sat on a comfortable chair under a shade umbrella while Jonas prepared the grill. This would have been their first afternoon alone, but she’d invited friends over for an impromptu barbecue.