Tied to You

by Bibi Paterson

  “How long was I out?” I ask, before taking a sip.

  “Three days,” Alex replies, climbing up next to me on the bed. He proceeds to talk me back through what happened, how he finished up his meeting early and thought he would surprise me, and how he walked through the front door just as Sofia and I moved through to the kitchen. He heard all the crazy things she had been saying and then stepped in. Slowly everything falls into place.

  “Her cousin? How the hell did she get hold of our prenup?” I ask, still hazy on that point.

  “I helped her cousin get a job at the firm of solicitors I use about a year ago. Nothing major, just asked my guy there if they had any openings after Sofia had been upset because her cousin, who had just qualified, was struggling to find a job. Needless to say, after this, she is no longer working there. I spoke to Michael as soon as I could after Sofia let slip to you about the contract, so she is now facing disciplinary action. What she did was beyond unprofessional, and Sofia was a shit for putting her cousin in that position.” I take Alex’s hand and squeeze it gently.

  “You look shattered, Alex. You need to sleep.” My cup is empty and I am feeling so tired again. Alex is dressed only in a pair of loose pyjama bottoms, so I pull him towards me, guiding us so that we are both lying down. I caress his cheek with my fingers. “Thanks for looking after me,” I say with a soft smile. “I should bottle you.” Alex looks at me quizzically. “You know, period cramps…death…the flu. You are always here looking after me, making me feel better.”

  Alex gives a smirk at my weak attempt at a joke and pulls me into his body. He tangles his legs in mine and rests my head under his chin, before pulling up the duvet to cover us both. Within moments, I hear his breath start to even out as sleep claims him and I can’t help but think about how much I love this man who is always there for me, no matter what happens.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It has been two weeks since I woke up from my battle with the flu. Two weeks that Alex has played nursemaid to me, insisting that I needed time to rest and recuperate. But now I am bored shitless. Don’t get me wrong, the first week was bliss; I slept, I ate and I generally forced myself to try to relax. Hours were spent on the sofa alternating among dozing, reading and watching films whilst Alex sat sentinel, tapping away incessantly on his laptop. But now I am coming up to the end of the second week of bed rest and I am slowly going insane. I have never spent this much time just doing nothing; my body is antsy, my brain itching for some more stimulation than lame TV or sappy romance novels. And to top it off, I am horny as hell.

  Last night—after quite a bit of persuasion, I might add—I managed to get Alex to make love to me. Up until then, the most Alex would do is hold me as if I were fragile porcelain; one wrong move and I might break. It was intense, yet gentle, and when we came together, the sparks that washed over me were heavenly. But now I need more. My body is yearning for a hard fuck and the kind or orgasm that comes only when I give Alex my complete submission in the playroom.

  When we are in the bedroom there is always the knowledge that I retain my control, yet when I offer myself down in the playroom, I do it with the knowledge that Alex can do whatever he likes with me. I am not sure why the distinction between the two spaces exists and I can only think that Alex works hard to not dominate me in our bedroom yet is happy to in the playroom. All I know is right now I want Alex to take the kid gloves off and fuck my brains out.

  I have also spent a lot of the time these past two weeks thinking about Alex and his grand proclamation that he is a sexual sadist. For some reason, this really bothers me and it is something I am determined to get to the bottom of. I can understand his desire to dominate. He comes from a family of people who are incredibly strong-minded, and the more I have come to know Sheila, the more I can see how she has brought up all of her children to take control and get what they want. There is certainly not a pushover amongst them.

  My mind flicks back to the words that Alex said to me when I asked if caning me had helped him:

  ‘For a few minutes, I felt centred again, calm and collected like it normally would make me feel, but when you started crying for real, there was none of the excitement, none of the arousal I would usually feel. Instead, I just felt hollow and empty, and terrified that you would hate me.’

  If Alex were truly a sadist, then he would have enjoyed my pain, and the crying should have excited him, not caused him to stop. He has told me that he enjoyed spanking and whipping his subs but that he only ever did it with subs who wanted that level of pain, masochists who would get their own gratification from having it inflicted upon them. A win-win situation. If I break it down in my mind, then everyone got what they desired; there was no humiliation and both parties got to enjoy their kink. For me, that doesn’t exactly fit with my definition of a sadist.

  All I can think of is that in Alex’s training under the Doms he told me about, he got this idea in his head that he liked spanking women and, ergo, that made him a sadist. And that brings me full circle back to this whole intimacy thing. A thought slams into me with the force of a train and I know, deep down, that right at the heart of the matter is Becca.

  I think about how he told me that they were best friends. Best friends who fell in love and then finally took that momentous decision to sleep together. I recall how he used the words ‘romantic’ and ‘gentle’, and even though he had made a throwaway comment about it, I firmly believe that he was in love with her. Putting aside all the other kinky business, essentially Becca broke Alex’s heart. With that comes the realisation that Alex’s need to put intimacy and love aside stems from the fact that, in admitting who he really is, he lost the first girl he ever loved as well as his best friend. This makes Alex’s reaction to his mother’s prompts about Becca returning back home even more understandable. The sting of first love’s betrayal is bound to cut the deepest and I honestly don’t think he has ever gotten over it.

  I feel so sad for Alex in this moment that I find myself wiping away a tear that has formed. A cold feeling has seeped into my bones, so I pull a soft throw off the back of the large wing-back chair that I am curled up in and drape it over me. The house is quiet, as Alex is currently out at a meeting, so I return to my inner musings.

  The Alex I have come to know and love is certainly a dominant person and I guess that I have allowed him to take that place in my life from day one because it was what I needed. He offered me the opportunity to give up the strangling control that I needed to have on my life the day that he gave me his outrageous proposal. I was so sick of having to always be the one taking care of things that it was almost a relief when he suggested we get married. If I am honest with myself now, as much as I needed the help with my financial situation, I think what really persuaded me was the trust I felt in Alex’s presence and his insistence on taking care of me during the year we would be together. For so long I had been the one making all the decisions, especially where it came to my mother, that for someone else to take on that stress was sheer liberation.

  The sound of the front door slamming shakes me out of my reverie. I don’t immediately make a move to get up and go down. My head feels ready to explode after mulling everything over and I know that I am going to have to talk to Alex about my conclusions. Maybe if I can get him to work through some of this Becca stuff, then he can get some closure and maybe a little insight into himself.

  Suddenly footsteps pound up the staircase and Alex comes rushing into the little nook on the landing that I have claimed as a reading spot. I catch sight of his face and gasp when I take in the look on his face. He looks angry—downright furious, actually.

  “What the fuck, Liv!” he exclaims, his voice livid. “How could you be so stupid?”

  I reel back as if I have been slapped. What the hell? I try to stay calm as I reply, “What are you talking about, Alex?”

  Suddenly I see a piece of paper in Alex’s hand. What on earth could it contain that could make Alex flip out like this? I wrack my bra
in, but nothing makes sense. “How can I take care of you and protect you if you don’t help yourself?” Alex seethes.

  “You are not making any sense, Alex. Please, just tell me what the matter is.” I am struggling to maintain my calm in the face of Alex’s anger. He has never spoken to me like this and I can feel my body trembling.

  “You never got your flu jab. When I think how sick you were, it kills me, Liv. And to find out you could have prevented it…” Alex trails off, handing me a piece of paper. I scan it quickly and see that it is a standard letter from my GP practice. Suddenly I remember receiving the letter the day that my father called and Sheila arrived to tear a strip off us. In everything that happened, I guess I must have put the letter to one side and forgotten about it.

  My voice is icy as I respond, “I received that letter the day my dad called to talk to me for the first time in twenty years and your mother verbally attacked me, making me feel like the shittiest person on earth. I am so sorry for not foreseeing that I was going to get ill and rushing out to get my jab, but with everything that happened, it kind of slipped my mind.” At the sarcasm in my voice I see Alex’s brows shoot upward. I have certainly never talked to him like this before, but then again I have never had reason to.

  The fight seems to slip out of Alex’s posture as he kneels down in front of me, pulling my hands into his. When I look into his eyes, I am shocked to see them glistening. “Fuck, Liv,” Alex says, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. “I just don’t know what I would do without you. I love you so much and…and watching you when you were so ill, it just made me realise how much a part of my life you have become. I just couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  “Oh, Alex,” I sigh. “You can’t get mad at me for the what-ifs. I have no plans to go anywhere.” I reach up and run my hands through Alex’s hair, taking note that some of the strain is finally leaving his eyes. I run my thumb across his cheek, stroking his smooth skin, in what I hope is a soothing motion. But instead a burn ignites in his gaze and his eyes become hooded with lust, sending sparks through my gut.

  Before I even have a chance to respond, Alex is picking me up and flinging me over his shoulder. “What the fuck, Alex?” I squeak as he strides down the stairs with purpose. Only moments later we are descending the stairs to the playroom, where Alex deposits me rather ungracefully on the platform in the middle of the room. I turn over to look up with trepidation, trying to gauge Alex’s mood, but his countenance is blank.

  “I want you naked, now, Olivia.” Alex barks out his command, and I can feel the muscles in my pelvis tightening with anticipation. I do as he says without thought, stripping off my yoga pants and long T-shirt quickly and then going one step further and taking up my submissive position, kneeling on my haunches, legs spread on the soft fabric of the throw, my arms resting on my thighs with palms up and my face downwards.

  I watch from under my lashes as Alex unbuttons his cuffs, rolling them up his arms with deft fingers, before kicking off his shoes and removing his socks. He sits down on the edge of the platform, his thighs spread before he instructs me to come lie across him. I shiver with anticipation as I drape myself across him, locking my fingers together as he has taught me. We have done this once before, a playful spanking session, which had shown me how much pleasure Alex was capable of metering out, but I am sensing something a bit darker today. Maybe it was the fact that he was angry at me or that I was sarcastic in my response, but I get the feeling that this is going to be a bit different. Alex shifts me slightly so that my head is resting on his firm thigh, turned away from him while my bum hangs over his other, my toes barely touching the floor. I can feel his muscles rippling under me and my heart begins to thump. I feel nervous and when Alex touches my back I almost jump out of my skin. I let out a small gasp of surprise, waiting for what is about to come next, but instead of the slap I am expecting, Alex runs his fingers along my spine before burying his hand in my hair. He twists it around his fingers and then gently pulls my head back so that I can just about see his face from my odd angle.

  I expect to see anger, but instead all I see is an eerie calm, which is actually more frightening. “You have a smart mouth, Olivia,” Alex says, his voice low and stern. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know. And I certainly don’t expect to hear it coming from you.” I watch Alex earnestly, wondering what my punishment is going to be. I am really hoping he is going to tell me because the waiting is causing a whole list of potential ideas to run through my mind, and really, I have no idea what he is going to do.

  “And as for your health, I expect you to take every precaution to see that you don’t fall ill.” I bristle at this statement, indignation coursing through me. While I am fine with him punishing me for my sarcasm, disciplining me for a perceived disobedience seems very unfair.

  “Please, sir, may I speak?” My voice is barely a whisper. I have never questioned Alex when we have been in this room and I have no idea how he is going to respond to me now. His eyes narrow on me, but he gives me a brief nod. I pick my words carefully. “Sir, I am happy to accept punishment for my sarcasm, but please, don’t chastise me for something that was a genuine oversight during some very trying circumstances.” I do my best to keep the tremble out of my voice, but my body is shaking so much now that it is impossible to keep still, despite the rigid hold that Alex is maintaining on my head and the firm palm that is holding my pelvis down.

  “In all the time I have been with you, I have never willingly disobeyed you. You once said to me that you had no wish to dominate me outside of this room, yet I freely allow you to direct our lives. I offer up my submission to you on a daily basis, ceding to your demands freely by loving you with all that I am, and not once have I ever given you cause to believe that I would willingly do myself harm.” I am horrified when I feel a tear slip down my face. “So please accept my apology for not taking better care of myself. It will not happen again.” I let out a shaky breath and slide my eyes away from Alex’s, unwilling to watch whatever emotions they contain. For a split second, I consider using my safeword, but somehow I realise that this is a test of our relationship and Alex’s actions now could potentially make or break us, so I wait.

  It feels like forever before I sense any change in Alex, but in reality it is probably only about a minute before I feel the hand at the nape of my neck relax slightly. “Three smacks for your sarcasm,” Alex says, his voice gravelly. I wait for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, I let out the breath that I have been holding and nod slightly to indicate my understanding. A moment later, Alex’s hand connects with the soft cheek of my arse and I yelp at the stinging sensation that spreads across my buttock. Before I have a chance to focus on the burn that has started to spread to my pelvis, another painful slap lands on my other butt cheek. I brace myself for the third, and when it lands directly over my sex, I cry out loudly. My body has responded to the aphrodisiac of this pain and I can feel how wet I have become. It would appear that Alex is aware of this too as he runs a finger through my wet folds before bringing the finger back to his lips and sucking on it. “Delicious,” he murmurs. “Now I think we should do something about this smart mouth of yours.” In a gentle motion, Alex tips me off his lap and onto the floor. I immediately scramble back into my submissive position, doing my best to ignore the pain of my heels digging into the sensitive flesh of my behind. I glance up to find Alex towering above me, unbuckling his trousers. In one fluid motion he pulls them down, along with his boxers, and tosses them into a corner of the room. His cock is erect and swollen, the veins bulging along his rigid length, and I can see the end glistening in the light.

  “Hands behind your back, Olivia. Lock your fingers together and kneel up. Stay very still because I am going to fuck your mouth until I come. You understand?” I nod my assent and Alex moves closer to me. I open my mouth to take him inside, but he surprises me by running his cock over my lips, spreading his pre-cum over them until they are slick with his moisture. Then he gu
ides himself into my mouth slowly. I run my tongue over his smooth, velvety skin, enjoying the feel of him, but all the while taking care not to move my head. I feel Alex threading his fingers through my hair, anchoring them on my head so that he can control my movements. I start sucking on his engorged cock, hollowing out my cheeks and allowing him to go as deep as he can until I feel him touching the back of my throat.

  For a moment I panic, my gag reflex kicking in as my brain tells me that I am not going to get enough oxygen. Immediately Alex stills. “Breathe through your nose, Olivia,” Alex instructs. His voice immediately calms me and I do as I am told until the fear has completely vanished. My body relaxes and I feel a sense of peace run through me as I surrender to Alex.

  Now that I am calm, Alex picks up the pace, fucking my mouth with long, hard thrusts, each one driving further and further into my throat. Arousal pools in my pussy as I feel Alex swell even more on my tongue. Moments later I feel him twitching, his orgasm not far off, and then he is coming, great hot spurts that slide down my throat. When he finally stills, I hear him panting, and the fingers loosen on my hair though they still stay in place. I feel him softening and then he is slipping from my mouth, leaving me feeling suddenly bereft.

  “Fuck, Olivia. You kill me,” Alex says hoarsely, and I look up at him from underneath my lashes shyly, wondering what is coming next. I know I have no reason to feel shy—I am a grown woman, for heaven’s sakes—but even so his reaction always slays me. I have remained completely still, my hands still linked together and my knees complaining about the hard floor. Alex holds his hand out to me and I unlink my fingers so that I can place my hand in his. He helps me to my feet, which are unsteady as pins and needles course through my calves and ankles, and then guides me across to the cross.