by S. E. Lund
Finally, he pulled the blindfold off and leaned over me, his face serious, his blue eyes intense.
"Kate," he said, his voice soft. "I don't want another night like tonight. I can't handle it. You have to follow the rules of the agreement. I'm going to have to be stricter with you, until you do so without thinking. If I'm going to control you, I have to control myself. If you're going to submit, you have to trust me completely. Only then will we be truly happy."
"I will," I said, my voice breaking from emotion. "I don't want another night like tonight either. I can't handle it." I pushed a hank of his dark hair behind his ear, and searched his eyes. When I looked in his blue ones, I felt an incredible surge of warmth for him. He knew his own power, he was aware of his strength, and he wanted to control himself to make us both safe.
"I will follow the rules," I said, my breath catching in my throat. "I didn't think you wanted to, because you never really have been very dominant with me. I thought you wanted a relationship with me that was more than D/s and sex."
"I do," he said and stroked my cheek. "But I've been single, for all intents and purposes, for five years. The only relationships I've had with women have been purely D/s. No emotion." He didn’t say anything for a moment as if fighting with himself. "But with you…" He inhaled deeply, his gaze moving over my face. "If I'm going to let you in, I have to trust you. That means you tell me everything when it comes to sex. That means when ex-boyfriends hit on you at fundraisers, you tell me right away. You have to follow the agreement completely. Will you?"
I looked in his eyes. He was this amazing intense intelligent incredibly erotic and dominant man. I wanted him in my bed and in my life.
"No."
"No?" He frowned.
I shook my head. "I want to amend our agreement."
He pulled back a bit, his eyes wary. "What do you mean?"
"I want," I said and ran my finger along his very square and scruffy jaw. "I want the option to get fucked first thing in the morning occasionally, when I need it and when you can spare the time."
His eyes flashed and then he leaned his forehead down to mine and smiled.
"Consider it done."
We kissed again, lying together with our limbs entwined, the moonlight flooding in from the window.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The next morning, Drake gave me a soft kiss on the shoulder and left the bed for his morning shower.
I stayed nestled in the bed, moving over to the spot where he had lain, enjoying the scent of his pillow – his cologne and his body scent. He came back in the bedroom when he was finished with his shower, a toothbrush in his mouth, toothpaste on his lips. He tried to talk to me with a mouth full of foam.
"I'll be gone all morning," he said. "I have an appointment with the oncologist and then a lunch meeting. I've got things to do at the Corporate office. Won't see you until later."
I sighed. "I've got to finish the canvas so I'll probably spend the day at the studio and come back here when I'm done."
"I'm glad you're painting," he said. "If the oncologist says Liam's in the clear, we're free to go to Africa but I'll have to wrap up my work on the board and at the Foundation."
"No, I understand." I smiled although I would miss him. After the disaster of the previous night, I felt a need to cling to him to make sure he still wanted me. Even him leaving and staying away all day felt like deprivation.
"You're not trying to avoid me?" I said, my voice almost a whisper.
"What?" He frowned and pointed the toothbrush at me. "Hold that thought." Toothpaste almost dripped down his chin and so he ran to the bathroom to finish. He returned sans toothpaste and lay on the bed beside me.
"Ms. Bennet, I am not trying to avoid you. Liam's getting tested this morning to see if the transplant is working and so my mind will be occupied with how it's going. I need to keep distracted all day. I have work to do and that will keep my mind busy so I don’t ruminate too much on all the possible things that could go wrong. As a doctor, I already know what those possibilities are and so you can imagine how my mind is working, imagining them all." He touched my bottom lip and leaned down to kiss me. I pulled away and held a hand over my mouth.
"Morning breath," I said, offering him my cheek.
"Lazybones," he said. "That's why you should get up when I do and shower with me." He kissed my neck instead of my cheek, and then moved down lower and moved the strap of my nightgown down so that my breast was bare. He squeezed my breast and took my nipple in his mouth, sucking softly for a moment. I groaned in delight.
"If I did, I'd get all aroused and want you to fuck me."
"I said I would – on occasion."
"I'll hold you to it."
A grin spread on his lips. "Ms. Bennet, you can hold me to it any time you want." Then, he covered my breast and kissed my cheek. He pulled me closer into his arms.
"Kate, I know this is a big commitment, coming with me to Africa. Giving everything up that you built here, even if only for six months. I know you're concerned about what our relationship will be. I'll tell you what it will be – you're collared. You're my life partner. There's nothing else short of marriage that is as binding or as serious."
"I don’t really understand what collared means," I said. "I'm so new to all this."
"I know you are, but you have to know I'm serious about you. I want you and only you, from now on. I want us to be exclusive. Bound to each other."
"I want that, too."
He inhaled deeply. "Do you think you can trust me enough to tell me everything? Even things you think will upset me? I need you to trust me that much for this to work. I don't think you do yet."
"I want to," I said. "But we've only known each other for such a short time…"
"I know, but it’s been enough time for me to know you're all that I want."
"You were so willing to think I'd cheat on you, Drake. That upset me."
"It was foolish. I wasn't thinking straight. I know you'd never do anything like that. I had to work like a dog to get you to even kiss me that first night…" He grinned at that, his cheek curving. "Most men would have already given up."
I laughed. "Not you."
He shook his head. "I could feel you were different that night at your father's fundraiser. It was like you could change everything, if I let you in. That scared me, after my first disaster of a marriage. But I can't imagine a life with anyone else but you."
I buried my face in his neck, my chest feeling like it could explode from my emotions.
"I love you, Kate."
"I love you."
We kissed, the kiss warm and deep. Then he touched my collar and smiled.
"Gotta go," he said. "Or I'll be late for my meeting with the oncologist because of my not-so-small problem." He took my hand and let me feel his erection, which was nice and thick. I squeezed him and closed my eyes.
"You sure you don’t want to stay?"
"Katherine," he said, frowning. "On the days I can stay and you have that look in your eye, I will stay. I said I'd accept your amendment to the agreement and I meant it. Today is not a day I can."
"Sorry," I said, my face flushing.
"It's OK," he said and kissed my lips in spite of my efforts to avoid him. "I want to stay. Once I'm done, I'll text you. We'll do something special tonight."
I smiled and watched as he rolled off the bed and finished dressing. Finally he went to the hallway and pulled on his coat before returning to the bedroom, bending over me to kiss my neck once more.
"I'll see you later, Ms. Bennet. Be waiting for me."
I smiled, a thrill going through me.
The door closed with a soft thud and I was alone once more.
I spent the day at the studio, finishing the second canvas, putting the final touches on it. I'd keep the first canvas private, hidden in our bedroom while the second might just be the first I did in a series. I wanted to paint Drake in every possible setting and position. I hoped he'd agree to be my
subject, my muse.
Instead of eating with Keith and Nathaniel and Jules as I thought I would, I was feeling pretty emotional from the events of the previous day and went to meet my father for lunch at a little restaurant that was a 50s replica. He'd been at his campaign office signing checks for his staffers and wanted us to meet somewhere for a meal.
We sat at a table along the windows and enjoyed his favorite meal of breakfast for lunch. Eggs, pancakes, hash browns and bacon. I watched him eat, and he was frowning as if he was deciding whether to bring something up.
"What is it, Daddy?" I asked finally. "You seem like you have something to say."
He glanced up, his expression distant. "Oh, do I?" He pursed his lips and picked up his mug of coffee. "I guess I was wondering how things were between you and Drake. I saw that picture in the Mail and wondered what happened."
I sighed. "I didn't tell Drake I saw Kurt at the fundraiser and he found out only when Dave Mills called and told him. We had a big fight about it. I think we were close to breaking up."
He nodded. "That would be a shame. I can tell you two love each other."
"I was wrong. I didn’t think it was important enough to tell him, and I didn’t want to upset him, make him jealous especially when he's under so much stress because of Liam. It was a mistake. I should have told him right away."
"Honesty is the best policy."
"It won't happen again, believe me."
We ate in silence for a moment. Finally, he spoke again.
"What did flyboy have to say? Was he as much of a jerk as he was before? I really had bad judgment with him."
"Drake told me you were acting as matchmaker between us. I had no idea. I thought I'd met Kurt accidentally. Here you'd been angling to get us together all along"
"You needed some help finding a man. You're so shy, and then after Mangaize, I thought you needed something to bring you back to life. I thought Kurt was the one. I should have been pushing Drake instead, but I thought he might be too old."
"What changed?"
"I realized how truly good Drake is."
I smiled. "He is good, Daddy. Just complicated."
"We all are in our own way. As long as he cherishes you and treats you well, I'm glad to see you two together. You have to be your own woman, Kate. As long as that's what Drake wants, you have my blessing. So, what about Kurt?"
I sighed. "He seemed a bit better. He apologized for being a jerk. He even used that word."
My father smiled. "He's not a bad sort," he said, forking some hash browns. "A little bit immature for you. Drake's better for you, all in all."
"Why do you like Drake so much?" I asked, honestly wanting to know why. "Not that there's any reason not to, but I'd like to hear you describe him from your point of view."
He swilled the coffee in his cup thoughtfully for a moment. "Drake's solid. He's a man, not a boy. Women mature faster than men so you're ready for someone like him. Mature, strong-willed, certain. He has ethics. He's very smart and skilled. He's loyal." He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "What's not to love?"
"Nothing," I said and grinned back, glad that his description of Drake fit my own. And then, even though I felt awkward doing it, I asked him a question that still nagged at my mind.
"Why does he love me?" My face flushed, and when he started to speak, I held my hand up to stop him. "No, seriously. I'm so much younger than him. I haven't even had a real job yet. I've barely done anything in my life."
"Oh, no. You've been through so much. You survived Africa, the camps, the death."
"I had a nervous breakdown. I hardly survived."
"Listen, Katie," he said, his voice lowering a register. "After he read your articles on Mangaize, Drake once said to me that if you hadn't suffered some kind of PTSD after what you witnessed, he'd wonder about your heart, and Katherine, dear, that is one thing he said he didn't wonder about you. Your heart is big."
"Drake said that?"
He nodded. "Before he even met you."
I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. "Thank you, Daddy," I said, my voice choking a bit. "That's such a nice thing for him to say."
"He's like that too, Katie. He has a huge heart, maybe too big so he keeps it protected. He's like his old man in that way, I think."
"How on earth did you and Liam ever became friends. You're conservative politically. A staunch free market proponent. He was a Socialist."
"War is like love. Cuts right down to the bone, throwing off all the extraneous crap we carry around, to tell us who we really are. Love makes complete strangers intimate. War makes brothers out of complete strangers. Not only did Liam save my life and that of many other soldiers, I saw into Liam and knew he was a good man underneath the bullshit about Stalin."
"Trotsky," I said.
"Whoever," my father said, laughing.
"I wish I'd met him. He sounds wonderful."
"He was full of life. Just couldn't stay still. Always on the go. Couldn’t keep a woman as a result. Instead, he had a lot of them everywhere."
We sat in silence for a moment, drinking our coffee, and then my father continued.
"As to why Drake wanted you, why I think he loves you, I suspect he sees in you a kindred spirit. Someone who could be more than just a fling, the way he's used to operating."
I didn't respond, thinking of how many submissives Drake had gone through in the five years since his divorce. My father didn’t use the words submissives, but he did know about Drake's 'proclivities'. I still marveled that my father knew and accepted it. Maybe because he knew Drake wasn't sadistic, just dominant.
"This was hard on Drake," my father said, "learning about his son, seeing him so sick, trying to help, watching to see if his efforts to help succeed. All you can do is be there for him. Understand this is traumatic for him. You know what that feels like – to have your world ripped out from under you. To feel so much frustration that there's only so much you can do." He took my hand and squeezed. "Be there for him, if you love him."
"I do," I said, tears biting my eyes. "I do love him, Daddy."
He smiled. "I know you do. It might be hard for a while but it will get better, once things settle with Liam. Until then, and as long as he's good to you, loves you hard and true, just hold on tight and don't let go."
I nodded and we turned back to our food. My heart was filled with love and appreciation for my father. I wondered if I'd never met Drake that night at the fundraiser how long it would have taken for me to arrive at the place I was now, realizing how amazing my father truly was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
After lunch with my father, I went back to the studio to put the finishing touches on the second canvas. The first was done and ready to be taken to the apartment in Chelsea. Keith had an old lemon-yellow VW van that he used to transport paintings and Jules's sculptures to various shows, so he helped me take the nude up the service elevator and into the bedroom.
One wall in Drake's bedroom had several paintings on it – prints, probably selected by the interior decorator. They were run of the mill and boring, so we took them down, and Keith drilled new holes for the canvas. In about half an hour, we had the canvas mounted on the wall. I couldn't wait for Drake to see it.
Keith had a smile on his face as we stood and examined it. "It's good," he said, "if a bit," he shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face, "wishful thinking."
I laughed. "It's art," I said, not wanting to admit it was in proportion. "A good portrait artist flatters her patron or she won't get another commission."
Keith smiled and we left the bedroom only to come face to face with Drake, who was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on Keith's boots, which were on the mat by the front door.
"Drake, you’re home," I said and went to him, kissing him on the mouth. He was a bit standoffish, a tiny quirk to his lips. I turned and pointed at Keith. "Keith helped me with my canvas, bringing it over in his van and then helping me mount it on the wall in
our bedroom. Come and see it."
I took Drake's hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.
"That’s my cue," Keith said and winked at me. "See you later."
I smiled at Keith, but my focus was on Drake, who followed me with reluctance as if he was still not entirely sure whether he should be jealous.
"Come on, Drake," I said. "I'd never be able to do it myself and I wanted it to be a surprise for you."
As we went into the bedroom, Drake saw the painting for the first time. He stopped for a moment, his jaw actually dropping. There, on the wall, was him in all his naked glory. The painting looked great against the grey walls, the white sheets, the warm yellow of the sunlight flooding over Drake's body, the fairness of his skin, his black hair such a stark contrast. His muscular body caught the early morning light so that his skin fairly glowed, his face in shadow underneath his arm, considerable scruff on his perfectly square jaw, his soft lips parted.
"Kate…" he said, letting go of my hand, moving closer to examine it. He stopped at the painting and took it in, shaking his head slowly. "I had no idea this is what you were doing."
"I woke up early on a few mornings and sketched you, then I painted from memory. What do you think? Can you understand why I'm so aroused in the morning?"
"It's beautiful. The lighting, the shadows." He turned to me and pulled me into his arms. "But no one can see it. I don’t want people looking at my dick…"
I laughed and pulled him closer. "I did another one with the sheet covering you up. I think I'll do a series of portraits. A collection."
"I don't know what I think about that."
"Don’t worry," I said quickly. "None of the nudes will show your face. I'll do some with your clothes on, too, although that’s such a waste."
He hugged me. "Only if you agree to let me take some photos of you for a book."
I inhaled deeply at that. "I'd like that. A private book for our own enjoyment. I wouldn't want any pictures with my face to get out there as long as my father is running for office."
