The Commitment (The Unrestrained #2)

by S. E. Lund

  She paused for a moment and I heard her take a sip of a drink. "I was already active in the lifestyle, but he was this bright-eyed junior and had no familiarity with kink outside of porn with a bit of spanking or hair pulling. You know, the usual vanilla stuff. So I thought he was really into it. I didn’t realize at the time that it was the scientist in him. The future-physician, the hopeful psychoanalyst. He was curious, but more because he was interested in the mind. Not because it was a kink."

  I tried to imagine Drake in a classroom, sitting beside the impeccably dressed Lara and a stab of jealousy went through me.

  "When I realized Drake wasn’t a sub," she said, continuing. "I thought Drake was like me – a Dom with a bit of sadism in him, so after his marriage broke up, he contacted me and told me what happened. I told him he was a Dom and that he had to learn how to top a submissive. He became my submissive so I could teach him."

  "So you tied him up and spanked him?"

  "Oh, yes. And a lot more."

  "What do you mean, a lot more?"

  "Exactly what I said. Everything that Drake does to you? I've done to him. Bondage. Discipline."

  I screwed up my face, thinking of his desire for anal. "Did you use a…" I hesitated.

  "A strap on?" Lara said, amusement in her voice. "I did. He had to learn how to do anal properly. He and I have done everything, Kate. So you don't have to worry. I know Drake Morgan and he is not a sadist."

  I felt white hot jealousy fill me to think of Lara with Drake, but I tried to squelch that by repeating to myself that they were both Dominants and so could never satisfy each other.

  "Did you ever do," I said, biting my bottom lip. "Vanilla sex?"

  "We had a go when we were first taking classes together but didn't mesh," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Don't be jealous. I don't do Vanilla as a rule, although Drake does. He's very mild, which was why I paired you with him. Don't get me wrong – there was a part of me that wished he was a sub, because if so, I would have grabbed onto him and not let go. But I knew he was Dominant. I just wasn't sure where he fell in the S&M spectrum."

  "You exposed him to pain to see if he liked it? Did you hurt him?"

  "Yes, but it did nothing for him sexually. I also tried him out with a few women who liked pain to see if he liked to give it. Sunita was one of the ones I fixed him up with. It didn’t end well."

  I swallowed, a sense of darkness settling over me. "Tell me what happened."

  "She wanted Drake. He didn’t want her. It's that simple." She took a slurp of her coffee. "He didn’t get off on what she needed. She was jealous when he moved on and she raised a stink, stalking him a bit. He tried really hard to humor her but he met a sub that he clicked with and Sunita was not happy. I did my best to find her a new Dom and finally, she gave up, but she was always angry with him for not trying to make it work. She thought he could do it. Or, she convinced herself that he was denying his inner sadist."

  "So he tried with her? He did do some painful things?"

  "Yes. Floggers. Canes. Riding crops. Nipple clamps. That kind of thing. She has pictures of her bruises and video of them playing together, but you can't tell for sure it's him. Drake was very careful about that, given his position. She wanted to get into knife play and edge play, but for Drake as a surgeon, that would be betraying his oath. If he had done anything like that, she could have really fucked him up with the College of Physicians and Surgeons if she wanted. But it would have exposed her as well and so, thankfully, she didn't do anything. I found her someone who was more in sync with her needs, but I think she felt embarrassed that he found her too kinky."

  I tried to imagine Drake using a cane with Sunita. Flogging her until she was bruised. I tried to understand why someone would want to be cut and to have a knife as part of their sex play. I didn't understand it, but I did understand how the forbidden and slightly dangerous was appealing sexually. Edge play was just taking it to the extreme.

  "I'm glad he never did any edge play."

  "It could have ruined his career if anyone found out that he cut someone as part of sex play. A surgeon? He knew he had to end it with her when she brought it up."

  "It's a good thing he did. He's meant to be a surgeon. He's amazing."

  "Drake is amazing. I thought when I met you that first time that the two of you were a pair. He likes his subs younger, petite, and pretty. And since you were a grad student, I figured you'd be smart enough for him, if things developed. I'm so glad they did. Tell Drake what you need, Kate. He understands, and believe me, he wants to give you every thing you need. It's his thing. Besides, he's in love with you, Kate. He'd do anything for you."

  "He's been really good at explaining everything about the lifestyle and D/s, but I'm still not sure how much of a submissive I am."

  "Drake's the one to help you learn. Trust him. Tell him what you need. It's so important for a Dominant to know what his submissive is feeling and thinking. Perfect honesty and openness. That's the beauty of BDSM – we have unique needs and we're notorious for spelling everything out, in detail, and agreeing to it. Many lovers thrash around in the darkness, afraid to be honest with their lovers about their needs and what they like. Or they don't have a clue what they really like. Those of us in the lifestyle are open. We know what we need."

  I sighed and switched my cell into my other hand. "Thanks for calling me, Lara. And thanks once again for introducing me to Drake. If you hadn't, I wonder where I’d be."

  "Probably working your way through a second or third Dominant by now, trying to find one you click with. I had a feeling about you and Drake from the start."

  I heard rustling of papers and knew that my conversation with Lara had come to a close.

  "Sorry," she said, her voice soft. "But I have to prepare for a case. Call me if you need anything while you're away. I'm always here for you and Drake."

  "Thanks, Lara. I really appreciate everything you've done for me. For Drake."

  The call ended and I sat staring at the phone for a moment, thinking about Sunita and the potential harm she could still do to Drake, if she was vindictive. I had to hope that she found her own happiness and wouldn't want to show those videos to anyone.

  With that thought in my mind, a sense of unease settled over me, despite being happy about life in general, especially my life with Drake. Dawn was still a problem, and despite everything Lara said about Sunita, she was still a threat to Drake.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next few days passed quickly while Drake and I finished sorting through things we wanted shipped to Nairobi, and put some of the remaining items from my apartment in storage. While Drake was busy wrapping things up at the hospital and foundation, I was finishing paperwork for my leave of absence.

  On the last Thursday before we were scheduled to leave, I dropped by Columbia on my way to my father's and checked in with the Graduate Registrar's office to sign forms. Then, I met with Professor Conrad, my advisor, and we chatted about Africa and how I was going to spend the time seeing the other side of the continent from what I saw while volunteering.

  An older man with a balding head and long grey hair, he was the department's senior professor. He really liked my writing on Africa, and on Mangaize, so I was afraid I'd disappoint him because I was going there without any plans to write about the political situation.

  He didn't seem to mind.

  "Go on safari," he said, his face bright. "The kind with cameras, of course. You'll see amazing wildlife in Kenya. It's really exciting."

  "I can't wait," I said. "I hope my time there will be completely different from the first time I was there."

  "Don't do anything but enjoy yourself. Think of nothing academic, don't worry about your coursework. You had a rough time after Niger."

  "I did."

  "Soak up the landscapes and people," he said, patting my hand. "Columbia will always be here. Remember, no refugee camps, no death and no war."

  I nodded and took in a deep breat
h. "Sounds like heaven."

  I walked most of the way to my fathers, enjoying the exercise and the crisp January air. Snow had fallen and the carpet of white seemed to muffle the street noises as I walked along Central Park. I thought about the song Drake played that night on 8th Avenue about the two old men sitting on park benches like bookends. That was the night I'd really fallen for Drake. Before, I'd been infatuated, but that night it was as if he let me see inside of him and I knew his heart was good. I knew he could love, if he let himself. He had so much emotion all tightly controlled and compartmentalized. Since we'd been together, he appeared to be letting those emotions seep into all the different parts.

  I smiled to myself and breathed in deeply. I'd miss Manhattan, but I looked forward to seeing a real night sky when I went on safari. I expected Nairobi had as much light pollution as Manhattan so it wouldn't be until I went outside of the city that I'd see the magnificent night skies I remembered from when I was in Africa before.

  By the time I got to the apartment on Park Avenue, I was a bit chilled and was glad to be inside the warmth. After I hung up my coat and removed my snowy boots, I searched the apartment for my father. He was in his office, as usual, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, a cordless phone to his ear. His iMac screen showed an open video conference window and the face of several people in small boxes. He was in the middle of a videoconference. I covered my mouth and ducked out, but he didn't care.

  "There you are, sweetie. Come give your old man a kiss," he said, apparently indifferent to what those on the call would think of his daughter barging in on their meeting.

  "Sorry, Daddy," I said and obeyed, kissing his cheek. I smiled at the screen and then ducked out of the view of the webcam. "I'll leave you to your call."

  He smiled at me and turned back to the screen.

  I tiptoed out and went to the kitchen to fix a cup of hot tea. I was feeling a bit under the weather from the Malarone, the anti-malaria med I was taking, a bit achy and cold. A nice cup of tea would do me wonders. After the kettle boiled, I poured the water over the loose tea leaves and waited for the tea to steep. As I did, I glanced out the kitchen window at the streets below the apartment.

  Of course, my mind went back to Dawn and her warning about Drake. Being alone with Drake in Africa had never made me nervous. I'd seen him at work, I'd seen him at play, I'd seen him in social situations and I had been alone with him, tied up and helpless in his apartment on 8th Avenue. I trusted him completely.

  It was Dawn I couldn't trust. What she witnessed as a child made her so obsessed with my relationship with Drake, so unwilling to see my point of view. Why couldn't she understand that there was a difference between real abuse and sexual role-playing that was consensual?

  I had to get to the bottom of it so I took out my phone and texted her.

  Dawn, please meet with me for coffee so we can try to hash out this disagreement between us before I go. We've been friends for so long, you're like the sister I never had. I can't stand that this has come between us.

  I sent the text and put my phone in the pocket of my hoodie. I took my tea to the den, where I lay on my favorite overstuffed sofa with a fuzzy throw covering me. The gas fireplace gave off warmth that helped take away the chill that had descended over me.

  I switched on the television and flipped between channels searching for something to watch beside the news, waiting for her response. I started watching a movie on PBS – a British period piece on Keats – when my iPhone dinged, indicating I had an incoming text. It was from Dawn.

  Let's meet at the coffee shop in Harlem General. I'm on shift all evening, but I can meet you for half an hour before work. But I'm warning you - there's nothing you can say that will make me OK with this thing between you and Morgan. I've been talking with people on FetLife and Kate, these people are sick. Drake's dangerous. I told you that in the pub, and I'll keep saying it. Don't let his pretty exterior and suave ways fool you. He's got a mean streak, as Sunita could tell you.

  What? I texted her right back.

  It was precisely because Drake didn’t have a 'mean streak' that they broke up. She wanted edge play and for Drake to flog her and cane her and he's not into pain. Dawn, why can't you understand? He's not into pain. Period.

  I waited, sitting up straight, my back stiff. Just texting her made me upset. I wasn't looking forward to actually meeting with her.

  Whatever he told you, he did flog her and hit her with a cane. I don't know what he told you about edge play, but Sunita said he wanted to do it and she didn't and that's why they broke up. You shouldn't be so quick to trust complete strangers while ignoring your best and oldest friend. If you want to meet with her and talk, hear her side of the story, she'd be willing to meet with you. She left the lifestyle and is now looking for a normal relationship.

  I sat up and tried to gain control over my emotions. How could two people tell such a completely different story? Sunita had left the world of BDSM?

  Drake had never given me any reason to doubt him. At that point, I wasn't feeling much like going out again, but I had to meet her and try to make her understand. Since the night I saw her after Drake and I fell at 8th Avenue, hitting my head and injuring his arm, Dawn and I hadn't seen each other. As much as Drake made me happy, and despite how much she angered me, I felt this hole in my heart because of my break with Dawn. I had to either resolve things with her or tell her goodbye.

  I sighed and texted her back.

  I'll meet you before your shift. Try to keep an open mind and consider our friendship. If you really are my friend, you'll accept this no matter what your misgivings are and wish me well, not try to ruin it.

  I reached into my bag and found my bottle of Extra-strength Tylenol, took two, and drank the rest of my tea, hoping the pain medication would take away the aches from the Malarone.

  Drake arrived back at my father's apartment a while later, waking me up from a nap. He had taken his coat off and was unbuttoning his jacket as he stood over me.

  "Sorry to wake you. I tried to be quiet." He reached into a pocket in his jacket and pulled out a silver keychain with two keys. "These are for you. One's for the front door in case the concierge is off, and the other is for the apartment."

  "Chelsea?"

  He nodded. "There may be days I can't be there before you. Besides, I like it when you wait for me."

  I took the keychain and examined it for a moment. The chain had a silver pendant at the end with a K engraved on it.

  "Thank you." I slipped the keychain onto the coffee table and stretched, watching him as he removed his jacket, leaving him in his suit pants and crisp white shirt and black tie. He looked amazing, as usual. "I was a bit under the weather earlier. I think it's the Malarone I had this morning."

  He sat on the side of the couch and then bent down and kissed my forehead as if taking my temperature.

  "Did you take some Tylenol?"

  I nodded.

  "Feeling better?"

  I nodded. Then, he bent back down and kissed me, his mouth covering mine possessively. Of course, the touch of his lips on mine sent a thrill through my body.

  "Mmm, I love it when you're all warm and sleepy," he said, smiling. He ran his fingers over the swell of my breast above my sweater. "I want to ravish you every time I see you after we've been apart."

  I smiled back as he leaned down, his face nuzzling the crook of my neck. "I feel the same way. Except I want you to do the ravishing."

  "That's my little subbie." Then, his lips followed his fingers, traveling down my neck to my collar, and then over it to my chest. He unfastened the top button of my sweater and pulled down the fabric of my bra to expose one nipple. When he closed his lips around it, his tongue warm against my flesh, I gasped.

  "I think I want you in your bedroom," he said, a gleam in his eye.

  "Drake, my father…"

  "Shh," he said. "Your father's old enough to know not to enter your bedroom in the middle of the day when bot
h of us are home and nowhere to be found. Relax… He's probably in the middle of one of his meetings and isn’t likely to come in anytime soon. Where's Elaine?"

  "She's out for the day. I have to talk to you about something."

  "Later." Then, he silenced me, kissing me forcefully. "Submit, Katherine."

  I tried to give in, letting him bare both my breasts, his mouth moving between my nipples, giving each one equal attention. It sent little jolts of lust through me, but at the same time, I kept my eyes riveted on the doorway in case my father came in. Finally, Drake returned my bra to its proper position and helped me up. I could see his erection straining against the fabric of his suit pants, and the sight of it made me even more aroused.

  I took in a deep breath and let Drake lead me out of the den and down the hallway to my bedroom. We passed my father's office but he was deep in conversation with his advisors and didn't notice us. Drake pushed me ahead of him into my bedroom and closed the door behind him. Then, he pushed me up against the door, pressing his erection against me.

  "I need you, Katherine. I've been imagining fucking you all day."

  I sighed as he kissed my neck, one of his hands restraining mine above my head. I said nothing in reply, trying to let things happen the way he planned and wanted. I knew that no matter what he did, I'd enjoy it. He kissed me deeply, his tongue finding mine, his breathing deep.

  Drake was a force of nature to me. I couldn't resist him when he set his mind to seducing me, and I didn't want to. He picked me up, carrying me over to the bed. I smiled into his neck, because it was Drake's thing – picking me up and carrying me to the bed.

  He caught my eye. "What are you smiling at? You should be all weak-kneed by now, not amused…"

  "You like to carry me," I said, threading my arms around his neck.

  He grinned. "Imagine that I'm a conquering warlord, and you're my spoils of war. What would you do?"