The Commitment (The Unrestrained #2)
Page 5
Then he leaned over me, collapsing against me, his mouth on my shoulder.
As we lay there, recovering, I realized Drake was working me up to anal. Little by little, he was moving me where he wanted me to go. Part of me bristled at it, but part of me relished in the knowledge that he was busy planning his attack, marshaling his forces. One day, he'd claim me. I knew I'd enjoy it, despite all my misgivings.
Machiavellian was right…
CHAPTER FIVE
After we were finished, he washed me with a warm washcloth, tending to my needs.
"I think I want to stay here tonight," he said, his arms around me, his face nestled in the crook of my neck while I sat on his lap. "You should call your father and let him know."
I nodded and slipped out of his arms, going to where I'd dropped my bag to retrieve my cell. I dialed my father's number. After a few rings, he answered.
"Hi, sweetie. What's up?"
"We're going to stay at Drake's place in Chelsea tonight."
"What's it like? It's in that old apartment block by the Hudson, right?"
"It's really nice. He's converted the dining room into a music room."
"You two almost all ready to leave? We're sure going to miss you both."
"Just a bit more packing but yes, we're almost ready."
"OK, sweetie. You have a good night and we'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night, Daddy."
I ended the call and quickly checked my email, Drake's eyes on me. In my inbox was a letter from Dawn. I sat on the bed beside him and opened it, dreading the contents for we were still not on speaking terms.
"What is it?" Drake said, reaching out to squeeze my arm.
"An email from Dawn."
He exhaled heavily. "What trouble is she trying to raise now?"
I read the letter over.
Kate,
I know you're leaving Manhattan for Africa with Drake Morgan. I've been speaking with one of the nurses from New York Presbyterian. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. Being all alone with him in a foreign country? Completely dependent on him? That's not the independent Kate I know. What happened to her to make her choose submission? You hated Kurt and what he did to you. I remember you crying on my shoulder for hours.
Please, Kate. Make sure you keep in touch with the American Consulate in case you need someone to rescue you in the night when one of his bondage scenes goes too far or when he loses control. I know it could because I spoke with one of Drake's former slaves that my sleuthing uncovered. Her name is Sunita. Ask him about her. See what he tells you and what excuses he makes. He may not mean to hurt you, but this is dangerous, Kate.
I hope I'm not saying 'I told you so' one day but that's what I fear.
I bit my lip. Damn her. She certainly knew how to ruin my happiness. I should have blocked her emails, but a part of me longed for us to reconcile. For her to finally understand and accept.
"What is it?" Drake said, leaning up close, his chin on my shoulder as he looked over it to my cell.
I closed the email program and turned to him. He rested on his elbow, his blue eyes intense as if he was waiting for bad news.
"Tell me about Sunita."
He inhaled deeply. "I knew it," he said, shaking his head. Then he lay back on the bed and ran his fingers through his messy black hair. He hadn't had a haircut for weeks and it had grown a bit longer than normal.
"Tell me, Drake. Dawn said I should ask you what happened with her."
"What did Dawn tell you about her?"
I shook my head, a sense of disquiet settling over me. "She said I should ask you about her. That's all. Nothing else."
He closed his eyes. "Sunita was one of my first subs. You have to understand," he said, rising up on his elbow, his eyes intense. "Lara didn't believe I wasn't into pain. She thought I was being gallant, so she thought Sunita might help bring it out. Sunita was a bit of a painslut. Lara was trying to see if I was into pain."
I frowned.
"I tried, Kate," he said, his expression pleading. "It did nothing for me so I didn't do it with any conviction. Sunita had a bit of a crush on me. She was upset when things didn't work out between us and tried to stir up trouble."
"What did she do?"
"She tried to force me to do what she wanted. Lara finally hooked Sunita up with a new Dom, but she's always made me know how she feels. I've seen her a few times at dungeon parties and she's tried to get back with me. I've always refused her politely."
"Then you intentionally hurt her."
"Only as part of my training," he said, a note of protest in his voice. "Once I discovered my own hard limits, I never did S&M again. What is it with Dawn?" he said, leaning over to kiss my shoulder. "Why can't she understand?"
"She was traumatized as a young girl. It's her blind spot."
"You're very generous with her." He shook his head. "If she were my friend, I'd have ended it with her by now."
"She's only trying to help. She really believes I'm in danger from you."
He pulled me into his lap, so that my arms threaded around his neck. "I hope you know you're not. I'd never purposely hurt you, Kate. I love you."
"I know," I said, but a creeping sense of unease spread through me. Dawn had to go and ruin a very nice evening with Drake.
Part of me hated her.
Part of me wanted to block her from my life, block her emails, her phone calls. But she truly was acting from a place of concern.
"Look, if you doubt me, Lara can tell you."
"No, that's all right," I said, feeling bad now for even asking about Sunita. "I don't need to call her. You've never done anything to make me question you. I've never been afraid of you."
He nodded. "We have to trust each other for this relationship to work."
"I know. But maybe before we leave, I'll meet with Dawn and have it out. Try to reason with her."
"Why?" he said. "What do you owe her? She tried to break us up. She tried to harm me professionally."
"She did." I cupped his cheek with my hand. "But she's like family. I've been her friend forever. I owe her one last chance to make her understand. Or at least, accept."
He sighed and pulled me closer, his face in the crook of my neck. "You're too good."
"She's been there for me through so much of my own stuff. When my mother died. Flyboy. Problems with my father. Africa. I can't throw her over without one last try."
He nodded, pushing my hair away from my shoulder, which he bit softly then kissed.
"Sweet forgiving Kate." He pulled me down on top of him so that I lay with his arms around my waist, my head resting on his chest. "If you really want to see her, go ahead, but at some point, you'll have to decide if keeping her as a friend is worth the aggravation. You go to sleep. I have to zip to the hospital and check on a case."
I nodded and watched as he dressed and left me alone in the apartment.
When I was done washing my face and brushing my teeth, I crept beneath the coverlet, missing the warmth of Drake's embrace, unable to get the image of him hurting Sunita – whoever she was – out of my mind's eye. I lay awake for a very long time before sleep finally claimed me, so tired that I didn't even hear him when he returned later that night.
In the morning, Drake was up very early and I could hear sounds of the bath running. He came back into the room, naked, watching me from the doorway.
"Would you like a nice bath? I feel like a soak."
I smiled, glad at the prospect.
The bath was hot and soapy and smelled good – of something masculine – Drake's cologne. I stepped in and sighed as I sank down beneath the bubbles. Drake naked was a thing of beauty, with his narrow hips and wide shoulders, the trim stomach and muscular arms and thighs. When he was dressed, he looked wonderful of course. Clothes fit him so well, and even in his scrubs, he looked entirely fuckable.
But naked…
I thought about drawing him naked some day, or photographing him in black and wh
ite. Something really artistic.
He entered the bath, his eyes riveted on mine.
"What's that look, Ms. Bennet? What's going on in that mind of yours?"
I smiled. "Drawing you naked. Or photographing you naked."
He raised his eyebrows as he sat down, the water rising, threatening to overflow the rim.
"I don't want photos taken of me, but you could draw me, as long as you kept my face out of it…"
"If you want. I'd love to draw or photograph that delicious body of yours. I've never drawn a male nude before or photographed one. I might get so aroused doing it that I'd need you to…" I said and raised my shoulder, my cheeks hot.
"Need me to what?" He grinned at that and leaned forward, pulling me onto his lap in the water. "I'm always up for giving you a good fucking, Ms. Bennet, if that's what you need…"
Then he kissed me and ran his hands up and down my back. He pulled back and looked at me, tucking hair behind my ear. "I know you're always horny in the morning. How would you like to be fucked today? Tell me what that big heart of yours desires. I don't have much time, but I'm sure we could pull something off."
I shrugged my shoulder. "I don't care, Drake. Whatever you think. Whatever you want. I know I'll enjoy it."
He nodded. "I'm considering." Then, his expression became serious. "What I want," he said, his voice low. "What I want is for you to use me like an object. I'd like to watch you use Big some day, but using me to get off would do fine as well. To watch you do yourself using my body… I think that's what I want."
The thought made my body respond, butterflies in my stomach, my flesh swelling. It made my breath catch in my throat to imagine.
We stood and he used a pitcher to pour clean tap water over me to rinse off the bubbles. I stepped out of the tub and started to dry off. While I did, I watched his body and he was already getting hard, maybe at the thought I'd actually go through with this, his cock thickening, slowly starting to rise. It made me smile.
He poured water over himself to rinse off the bubbles and he looked so delicious, with water streaming down his naked and soapy body that I thought he must be doing it deliberately, to entice me.
He ran his hands through his wet hair, his lashes clumped from the water. Then he stepped out of the tub and I took a towel and started to dry him off, starting at his shoulders and working my way down. He stood there and watched me, his eyes on me, watching my face as I moved the towel over his body.
His cock twitched when I dried him off, and I couldn’t keep from smiling to myself, half-expecting him to comment on it with his dry wit, but he kept silent, his gaze never moving from my face.
I took his hand and led him through the door to the bedroom and the large four-poster bed, the sheets and coverlet rumpled.
"Here," he said, and he sat with his hands behind him on the bed, his thighs spread, his rapidly hardening cock laying lazily to the side. "Lick me." I knelt down and moved between his thighs. Then, I began licking him, my tongue and lips sliding up and down his shaft to the head and back down again.
He exhaled loudly, his cock jerking when my lips circled the head and I took him fully inside my mouth. I sucked and licked him until he was rigid, his breath coming faster. Then he stopped me, pulling me off him.
"That's enough." He moved back onto the bed to the head so that he was lying against the headboard with his arms spread out on either side of him. "Come here," he said. "Fuck me." He waited while I straddled his hips and considered him, tilting my head, wondering how I would do this.
He sat up a bit more, helping position me. I moved closer and rubbed myself against him, my labia sliding along his erection, up and down. It felt so good, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation. I knew enough to work myself up well so that when I sat on him, I'd be ready.
As I moved up and down, pressing myself against him, he tried to grab one of my breasts with his mouth. I stopped so that he could, letting him suck my nipples, one after the other, the sensations building my lust and arousal.
"Sit on me."
He held his cock so that it jutted out. I started to move again, and this time, I teased the entrance to my body with the head, rising up high enough so that it penetrated me a bit, before sliding along the shaft once more. Soon, I felt like I wanted him inside of me completely, and I sat on him with my full weight so that he slid inside of me. He was so nice and thick, and it felt so good when he was inside that I gasped.
"That's what I want to hear," he said, his eyes half-hooded as he watched my face.
My cheeks were hot, but I was only a bit self-conscious that he was watching me pleasure myself.
I moved slowly with him inside of me, resting my hands on his shoulders. I rode him this way for a few moments, every now and then withdrawing completely to rub myself against him before sitting on him again.
I closed my eyes as delicious sensations built inside my body. It didn't take long before I felt my orgasm start, the wave of pleasure in my core moving out, down my legs and up into my groin, my face hot, my heart pounding.
"Open your eyes," Drake said, drawing me back from focus on my impending orgasm. I complied as I rode him, my eyes meeting his as I went over the edge.
"Oh, God, oh, God…"
"That's it," he said. "Come for me."
My whole body tensed as I came, the pleasure making my eyes close despite my best efforts to keep them open.
"Look at me," Drake commanded and I had to pry my eyes open. But I managed to, and saw the pleasure on his face, the delight in watching me. "That's so good, Katherine."
When my orgasm subsided, I collapsed against him, my arms around his neck, my face pressed against his shoulder.
He let me sit there for a few moments while I recovered. When I felt able, I sat up straight again and met his eyes. He was smiling that lopsided grin.
"So?" I said, licking my lips. "Was that what you wanted to see?"
"Exactly what I wanted to see, Ms. Bennet. I believe I might make this a regular part of our lovemaking."
"Lovemaking?" I said, surprised he used that word. "That wasn't lovemaking. It was me fucking you until I came."
He leaned closer to me and kissed me. "Whatever you say."
I laid my head against his shoulder again, then I started to move on him, but he stopped me.
"My turn," he said and lifted me up, turning us over while keeping himself inside of me.
I couldn't hold back my smile. "We're really a very vanilla couple," I said while he positioned himself above me.
"We are. We'd be booed out of the dungeon. Now, be quiet Ms. Bennet. You talk far too much, like your namesake." He silenced me with a kiss and that was the end of our playful banter.
He stood up and pulled me to the edge of the bed so that my feet rested on the side. He took my hips in his hands and began to thrust, watching as his cock slid inside of me as he thrust. He reached up to squeeze a breast, then leaned down to suck my nipple, his hands running over my body as if he was hungry to touch me. He took my feet in his hands and held them, spreading my thighs wide, all the time watching himself as he fucked me, his face flushed red, his lips parted. A flush spread over his chest as his thrusts increased in tempo and I watched as his orgasm started, a grimace of pleasure spreading on his face, his teeth clenched, and then his face slackened as he began to ejaculate.
"Oh, fuck, oh, fuck…" He thrust slow and deep, his eyes closed, his face a mask of pleasure.
When he was done, he collapsed onto me and I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
Drake dressed quickly after we finished washing up and left the apartment with a promise to return later after several meetings he had at the hospital, wrapping up his work before we left.
After I dressed, I peeked into his kitchen and examined his fridge contents. All healthy food – slightly wilted greens, a drawer full of fruits, almond milk, cream for coffee, condiments. There was some whole grain cereal in a cupboard and multigrain bread in a
breadbox. I had toast with unpasteurized honey, tea and an orange. I walked through Drake's apartment, touching the piano keys, examining the photos his father had taken of various bands in the 70s and 80s.
I went to Drake's bondage cabinet and looked at the cuffs and leather straps, the rope and assorted sex toys. Would I become this kinky little thing, like he thought I was?
I had the sense that Drake knew what he was doing. He said I'd enjoy it, if I let myself. Where would he take me?
If he had been more sadistic, if he really had wanted to hurt me, would I still be here or would I have run?
Then my cell trilled. I rifled through my bag and found it. It was Lara. I answered and her voice sounded pleased to talk to me.
"Hiya, Kate. Drake asked me to call you."
"He already spoke to you about this?"
"You bet he did. He's concerned that you'll get the wrong idea about Sunita."
"My friend Dawn—"
"How can you call her a friend? She tried her best to break you two up and almost succeeded."
"We go back a long way. I owe her a lot."
"Well, whatever. I think you're far too forgiving." She sighed on the other end of the connection. "So, what do you need to know about Sunita…"
"I told Drake I didn't need to call you."
"He wanted me to call. Hold for a moment. I have to close my door."
I waited and heard rustling of papers before she came back on the line.
"So, when I first met Drake, we took a course on abnormal psychology together. We studied sexual deviance that semester and read up on BDSM, debating whether it was a sign of deviance or just a normal human sexual variant. He was fascinated by sadism and masochism. I thought it was because he was into it, either as a masochist or sadist. Sometimes really high-achieving men like to submit in the bedroom. It's a stress release."