by Livia Grant
I tried to get up off the table, feeling like the air in the room had grown thin. I didn’t want to stay in Dean’s arms anymore. I wanted to escape the pain that was rushing in at a rapid speed. Memories sucked, and I didn’t want to relive them. However, Dean simply tightened his arms and gave me a soft kiss on the head again. Knowing Dean wasn’t going to let me leave his arms, I pressed my cheek to his shoulder, and the rational side of me knew I needed to get this out. I needed to share my grief. But the irrational side still wanted to run away.
“I thought I could fix Daddy. I thought I could make him healthy again. I took him to every chemo appointment. I fed him healthy food. I even tried the holistic route. I tried to fight his fight. But I failed. I failed him. I tried.” The tears began to flow down my cheeks.
Dean continued to rub my back. “You didn’t fail him. You can’t fight death. It was his time.”
Hating the fact that I was crying, I tried to escape Dean’s embrace again. I needed to breathe. I needed to run. I needed out! His grip only tightened. He wasn’t going to let me go. He wasn’t ever going to let me run again… I knew this.
“I don’t want to cry. Not here in the club. I don’t want to talk anymore.” I pressed against his chest. “I’m done. I don’t want to feel this way. I didn’t come here tonight to remember the worst part of my life.”
“Take a deep breath. Just breathe. Let me hold you close and know that I’m here,” Dean soothed. “I know this is tough, and maybe even selfish on my part. But I need to know why. It killed me when you walked away from me. I thought there was more between us, and when you shut me out, and then quickly married, I was crushed. It made me feel as if I had completely read you wrong. Read us wrong.”
“You didn’t read us wrong. Not at all. I just fucked it all up,” I said as fresh tears came.
Dean didn’t say anything, but he just kept rubbing my back and lovingly brushing my hair away from my face.
I closed my eyes and allowed the comfort coming from this powerful man to calm me. I decided I needed to release my grief over Daddy’s death. Maybe telling his tale would make the pain in my heart go away. Maybe talking about it would heal. The pain, it hurt, it hurt so much.
“I held his hand as he died. He gave me a wink and a smile. He told me I had always been strong. But he had also told me to marry. He had introduced me to Mark shortly before he got really sick. It was set up so perfectly in his mind. Mark was a senator, and he knew that I could be the perfect arm candy for his friend. He wanted me with Mark and said as much before he died. I loved my father, but I never quite measured up with the path that he had chosen. I had felt like a failure.”
I began to sob. My tears rocked my body. The pain took a hold of me. The hurt I had kept in my heart was now exploding loose.
Only when the sobs subsided could I continue. “When he finally died, I just screamed. I sat in my car and I hit the steering wheel over and over again while I screamed. I cursed his name. I cursed the world. I pounded my fists and screamed to no one but myself. I kept asking why, why was he taken away from me? I pounded my fists until they bled. I screamed! I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t the perfect daughter he had always wanted, and he had died before I could become that person. So, because I failed him and wasn’t able to help him fight the cancer, I could at least succeed in one thing. I married Mark like he had wanted for me. I could at least give him that. Honor his memory in what I believed was the best way I could.”
“But he wouldn’t have wanted you to be unhappy,” Dean said softly.
“Maybe. But my life felt so out of control. So, I sold everything and gave up every part of my life that I felt would be a disappointment. That included Black Light, my sexual desires… and you.” I wiped at my tears, but fresh ones just took up new residence in their place. “Leaving you was so difficult, but I just wanted to make something right when everything felt wrong. I thought marrying Mark would be right.”
I had let down my wall, and the flood of emotion was overpowering. Not holding back any longer, I cried on Dean’s shoulder and just released. He simply held me. He didn’t offer words; he didn’t try to calm. He allowed me to feel the wound that was still so raw. He allowed me to feel the pain. I continued to sob. My body shook, my chest heaved. I hurt so much. I missed my daddy so much. For the first time ever since his death, I was feeling the grief that I had pressed to the furthest and darkest part of my heart.
Dean squeezed me closer to him and softly spoke. “I can’t take away your pain. God, I would if I could. I can’t make this better. I should have been there then. I should have forced you to grieve just as I am doing now. I’m so sorry. But I can tell you that if you open your heart to me, I will never abuse it. I will never give it up.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I will love you with everything I have. I should have said this all then.”
He wiped at the tears streaming down my face. His touch, his voice, and his way of just listening, made me want to stay. I no longer wanted to run.
I sniffled, trying to regain composure to no avail. The floodgates had been opened. “I didn’t cry after the funeral. It was like the moment the coffin closed, so did my heart.”
“He’s at peace now, Melinda. He isn’t sick anymore. No more pain, no more sorrow. He wouldn’t want you to be sad or miserable. But it’s healthy that you’re releasing it all now… for good. And I’m sure he was proud of you and the woman you were. How could he not be? You had your own business, one that was highly respected in one of the most competitive and ruthless cities in the world.”
“And now? What would he think of me now? Divorced. No career. Nothing.”
“I’m sure he would know that you had the strength to rebuild.”
“And Mark made me so miserable. He crushed all of who I was and left nothing but a beaten soul.”
“Did he hurt you? Beat you?” Dean tensed up, and I could see fury sizzle behind his blue eyes.
I shook my head. “He didn’t beat me. But his words were so much more powerful and painful. Nothing I did was right in his eyes. I was an awful wife, a terrible host of parties, and a failure as a senator’s wife. I was always overweight, ugly, and aging too fast in his eyes. He wanted me on diets, to see the plastic surgeon, and to become everything I wasn’t. I felt awful about myself.”
“None of what that shithead said is true,” Dean said, rubbing his hands over the curve of my hips. “I have never seen a more seductive and gorgeous woman than you. I wouldn’t want you to change a single thing.”
“He didn’t agree.”
“Well, fuck him!”
“I became so sad. So weak. So alone. And it all ended with him cheating on me for someone better.”
“There is no one better than you. Trust me when I say this. I looked. I searched after you left, and there was no one who compared.”
His kind words only had me crying more. What a fucking fool I had been. Dean wrapped his arms around me tighter and just allowed me to cry. I cried the tears of loss that had broken my soul. I cried the tears that had made me hide. I cried the tears that had built my shield. Crying in Dean’s arms allowed me to be whole. I no longer wanted to protect my heart. I wanted to give it over to Dean Casey. Allow this man to protect it for me.
I pulled back enough so I could look at the man who held me. Dean’s eyes penetrated my soul, demanding for me to stare into them, never looking away.
I reached for his face and slowly traced the edge of his jaw. “I will hold on to you with everything I have. I’ll give you all of me. Giving you what you need, being what you want. If you’ll take me back, that is. If you tell me what you want, I’ll do it.”
Dean kissed a trail of soft kisses along my neck. “I want to never leave you, or you to leave me again. I want you always and forever. I want to make you mine. I want to be yours, forever.”
“Then take me. Make me yours. I want nothing more.” The animalistic fire burned deep within my core. I whispered into Dean’s ear with a nibble, “Let m
e ride you.”
He flipped over, allowing me to straddle him. My lean thighs on each side of his body made me anxious for more. My hair cascading around my face made me feel sexy and seductive. I felt perfect in his eyes. My breasts were full, my stomach with a sensual mound that blended with the curves of my hips, and I could see in his eyes the desire he felt as I grinded my wet pussy on his hardening dick. The look in his eyes revealed his thoughts… I was beautiful.
Yes, I was beautiful.
Fuck Mark. Fuck that asshole for making me feel I wasn’t.
I was beautiful!
Reaching for another condom that had remained on the table, I sheathed Dean’s already hard cock and lowered myself on top of him. I closed my eyes and began to rock my body in a rhythmic motion. My hips sensually pulsated to the music created by the heavy breathing of two lovers. We rocked, we turned and we moved with each gasp, with each moan, with each passionate word. I made my body dance on top of Dean’s. My passion flowed with his. My hips waltzed with each penetrating thrust. The ballet of lust was more than either could take for long.
The fire worked its way throughout my entire body. I felt the heat build, hotter with each driving force, hotter than I could ever have imagined. The inferno caused each moan to get louder, each gasp to grow more ragged. I flung my head back and reached for his hands. I placed them on my breasts as I began to ride with wild abandon. I went down as he went up. I moved my body faster, stoking the flames until I finally cried out his name as he moaned mine.
We rocked our hips together until every last bit of completion was massaged from our bodies. Exhausted, I collapsed onto his chest and could barely breathe. Dean rubbed my back as our heartbeats struggled to regain a normal cadence. Satisfied, we both closed our eyes and soaked in the feeling of being as one.
Chapter 7
“We only have another hour left,” I said. “Are we ever going to do what we rolled, or do you plan on breaking all the rules of the night?”
Dean gave a mischievous grin, one that I remembered to always be dangerous when he gave it. It usually ended with me tied, flogged, or bound in some delicious manner of his choosing. “I think I finally broke through that defensive wall and found my submissive once again.”
I raised an eyebrow, curious what that statement meant. “Well, you’ve spanked, we’ve fucked, and I damn near spilled my guts, but I’ve seen no sign of a blade.”
Dean was already standing up and putting on the last of his clothes as he took hold of my hand and brought me to my feet. I was surprised my knees didn’t give out on me with the level and amount of orgasms I had just encountered.
“Let’s go to the prop room and get what we need.”
I attempted to bend down and gather my clothing, but Dean tugged on my arm, forcing me to stand. “No. Remain nude. We’ll come back for the stuff afterwards. I’ll put it in a nice little pile under the table.”
Too fat.
Mark’s words were emerging from the depths of my consciousness that I had thought I shoved them into.
Not pretty.
Cover yourself.
Dean must have sensed my escalating insecurities in the way I tensed up, because he was quick to say, “That body of yours should be shown off as we walk across the room. I want everyone to see what a beautiful sub I have the pleasure of dominating tonight.”
I glanced up into his eyes, grateful for his words of encouragement and smiled with a nod. “Yes, sir.”
Dean reached for my hardened nipple and pinched it between his index finger and thumb. “Never question how stunning you are again in my presence. If I have to punish you for doing so, I will. Consider that one of your rules.”
I nodded again, and looked down at the ground feeling a sense of shame. I’d never needed that rule before. I had always been proud of my womanly curves and my sexuality. But he was right. I would need that rule to help me force Mark’s words out of my head forever.
“Good girl,” he praised as he tilted my chin up with his fingertips so I had no choice but to look at him. “Now let’s go play with what we landed on.” He gave a playful wink. “Finally.”
Butterflies fluttered against my belly at the thought of what was to come. Without waiting for a response—which was good because nerves took hold of my vocal cords—Dean led me across the club to a room I remembered visiting often with him. I wasn’t really a voyeur, and, in fact, watching others play or seeing anyone in any form of sexual act always made me feel embarrassed. Like I was spying on something I wasn’t supposed to see. I knew this was silly being in a club like Black Light, but I always kept my eyes cast down when I was around others. But the club, as we made our way to the prop room, was definitely at full intensity. Though I couldn’t see, I could hear. Cracks of whips, moans, whimpers, and cries all blended with the thumping music. I could also almost feel the sexual energy sizzle in the room. I fucking loved this place. I should have never left, and I promised myself right then and there that I would never leave again.
“Jayla, you look lovely tonight,” Dean complimented as we entered the prop room. The man always did have charm.
“Well lookee here. You two look like you’ve known each other a bit longer than an hour.” Jayla observed, which had me giggling. It felt good that she recognized our closeness.
“Yes. This is my submissive, Melinda York. Melinda, this is Jayla,” Dean introduced us before he walked over toward a table full of implements lined up in an orderly fashion.
“Nice to meet you, Melinda. You seem to be making this guy pretty happy tonight.” Jayla added before walking over to where Dean stood. “What can I help you find?”
“I want a large amount of ribbon and a knife. Preferably 440 steel with a blade about the length of my palm.”
Jayla nodded and walked over to a shelf and pulled out the ribbon as she said, “I can help you with that.” She placed the pile of ribbon on a table and then grabbed a silver metal case and opened it in front of Dean. “Go ahead and choose what you want. Feel free to pick them up and decide what weight is best for you.”
Dean looked over his shoulder and motioned for me to join him. It was then that I realized I had been standing in the entrance of the room and hadn’t moved from that spot since walking in. Snapping out of my paralysis, I padded over to where he was already examining the knives.
“Which one do you want?” he asked. “I’m feeling generous tonight and will allow you to pick.”
I glanced down at the five knives lined up on purple velvet. I had no idea where to even begin with choosing. On appearance alone, they were all beautiful with intricately carved handles. One in particular kept my eye, however. The handle appeared to be made of heavy steel, but it had a classic elegance about it.
With a shaky hand, I pointed to it. “I like that one, Sir.”
Dean smiled and nodded in agreement. “Then that one it is.” He took the knife, and the bundle of ribbon into his hands. “Thank you, Jayla.”
“Anytime,” she said as Dean and I walked out of the prop room to once again join the energy of the club.
I had tried many things at Black Light and Overtime before that. I liked to think I had an adventurous spirit and was open to try everything at least once. Like anyone, I had my hard limits but knife play was not one of them. Maybe it should have been. My grandmother would have lectured me that I had lost my mind for allowing another person to place a knife anywhere near my body. But for some reason, I never considered adding it to my list of ‘oh hell no’.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t downright terrified as Dean led me to a single wooden chair that sat surrounded by soft black light. There was no velvet curtain or any door concealing us, but it still offered a sense of security in the setting. We would certainly be exposed, but not on full display. Subtle. Dean knew that I liked that element in our play. Subtle and subdued.
“Sit down,” he commanded. God, the way his voice gave directives just oozed sexy. My pussy throbbed at the deep undertones of d
ominance.
I did as he asked, flinching when the cool surface of the chair made contact with my still hot and punished ass.
Dean’s mouth quirked into a devilish smirk which I remembered so well. The sadist in him always liked seeing signs of discomfort caused by a past discipline. It usually warranted a glare from me, which often landed me back in the same discipline position I was just in to begin with. It was always a delicious and vicious cycle we encountered. I had loved every minute of it.
Walking to where I sat with the ribbon in his hands, Dean didn’t hesitate with wrapping the silky material around my body and tying me to the chair.
Hostage.
Dean’s hostage.
The way it should have always been.
Round and round the ribbon wrapped, securely holding me in place. My ankles were strapped to each leg of the chair, forcing my thighs to be spread wide open. My arms were pulled behind me, driving my breasts to be out and more on display. I glanced down at the strips of fabric that covered a majority of my body and under the black light near by, the white ribbon glowed, illuminating my skin beneath it.
“You look like art,” Dean said, obviously noticing how the ribbon was enhanced by the lighting of our area.
I resisted a little to see how strong the binds were, and was surprised at how strong the ribbon really was. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to escape.
“By far the sexiest captive I’ve ever seen,” he said as he tightened the knots behind my back.
Other participants of the party walked by and paused to appreciate Dean’s handiwork. The man knew how to loop and knot rope like a true master. I had always loved how he would tie me up in the past, but this time with the ribbon was different. It was far more sensual and seductive, and with the glowing ribbon beneath the lights, the other members were also taking notice of the beauty. Normally, having the eyes of others on me, I would have been embarrassed and would feel the suffocating need to escape. But not this time. The ribbons made me feel beautiful.
