Secured Heart

by Measha Stone

  His hands rested on her shoulders behind her, running down her arms until he grasped her wrists. “I had hoped we could play tonight. I was going to lay all of these out for you and let you choose. Let you play with the sensations of each that you were curious about. But no choices tonight. Tonight is punishment, instead of fun. So, tonight I choose. Tonight you accept. Ten lashes of the implement I pick up. Ten hard strikes for your disobedience, your disrespectfulness, and your bad decisions.”

  He walked around her as he spoke, coming to stop directly in front of her. He pulled up her chin to force her gaze to his.

  “You won’t hide from me,” he demanded harshly.

  “Does the dribble on your cheek embarrass you?” he asked, and she nodded, giving a muffled answer as well.

  “There are times I might want to play with embarrassment. I might put you in this gag just for my enjoyment.”

  She felt her eyes bulge as she widened her lids at his statement.

  “Tonight wasn’t about embarrassment though. Tonight was just about taking your ability to speak away since you couldn’t control your words yesterday. So,” he said with a raised brow as he reached behind her and began to work the straps, “if you don’t find this gag to be pleasant, I would suggest you learn from this and control yourself in the future. What do you think?” He brought the straps forward and pulled the ball from her mouth.

  Instantly, the strain on her jaw was relieved, and she moved her mouth around to work out the stiffness. She wanted to rub the spit away, but he hadn’t given her permission yet.

  “Yes,” she whispered and closed her lips.

  His eyes softened just enough for her to know she had done the right thing by not wiping her lips. How she wished she could!

  “I’d let you clean off your mouth and chin, but since you couldn’t keep from doing it before, I don’t think I will now.” His words struck her; she needed to get herself together.

  She had asked for this. She had asked to be owned and to be punished when she disobeyed. Inside of her was the strength she needed to get through it, and she needed to find it soon.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on his as he had ordered.

  “I know.” He wiped a curl from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” She managed a nod, and he pulled out the wrist cuffs he had used at the club from his back pocket.

  He was completely in control. Anger was not ruling his actions. Disappointment still sat in his expression, and she could feel the negative emotions hovering between them, but he was still being gentle with her. He was careful of the bracelet on her wrist as he buckled the cuffs. Once each wrist was covered, he slipped his thumb through both D-shaped rings and pulled her forward toward the bathroom door.

  She noticed then two short chains had been hooked to each end of the pull-up bar he had on the doorframe and her stomach twisted. He kept his eyes on his work as he raised one of her arms to the first chain, and he clicked the wrist cuffs into the restraint. She watched his hands as he hooked her to the second restraint, and she wanted them on her, comforting her.

  The night at the club, she hadn’t been very nervous. They were having fun; the outcome would be wonderful for both of them. This wasn’t the club, though. In his bedroom, she was chained up and awaiting his punishing blows.

  She worried about being able to take them. What if it was too much? She calmed herself with the reminder that even though Kendrick was punishing her, he would not hurt her. If she knew nothing else at that moment, she knew that to be completely true. She felt it in her core.

  She didn’t try to see what he was picking, but imagined him mulling over his options like he was picking which meat to select at a buffet. It took her off guard when she heard the buckle of his jeans being worked. The sharp sound of the leather belt being pulled from the denim loops of his pants gave her a shiver that started at her groin and went up her spine.

  The first strike of the belt landed on her ass. It was quick and stung like a dozen bees had attacked at once. The second came quickly and crossed her back. She cried out with the third, as the heat spread through her ass, and then there was little time to process before the fourth struck her across her shoulders. Each blow was harsh; there was no gentleness to them. He didn’t pause to rub her, to speak to her.

  The chains jangled as the fifth blow made her lose her footing. Everything was becoming sore from her wrists to her legs. The next blow struck her thighs and made her yelp again. She tried to keep herself quiet. To take the punishment with as much grace as she could muster, but each lash of the leather across her body brought with it a new fire to her skin.

  The physical pain of the belt was nearly tolerable compared to the isolation she felt from him. There was silence between the strikes. He said nothing. She needed his touch, his words, his encouragement. She needed him.

  Two strikes of the belt landed in the same spot as the first, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Tears burned her eyes, but not from the heat in her ass, but from the guilt she felt bubbling inside of her. Before the last lash of the belt, she heard him take a deep breath.

  She hung her head and braced herself. The crash of the leather against her back was strong and sharp. She bit down on her lip and moved back into position quickly. Relief washed over her at the sound of the belt dropping to the floor.

  He was on her seconds after, his hands frantically working the buckles of the restraints, unhooking her from them, and taking her down into his arms.

  She hadn’t realized until she was flat-footed on the floor with her cheek resting against this chest that she was crying.

  He walked her around the bed to the empty side and sat her on the edge. “Don’t move,” he ordered and kissed her forehead.

  She gave a nod but didn’t say anything.

  Her body ached, the skin was tender and tingly, and her eyes were starting to burn from the tears she shed. He made quick work of putting away the implements he’d laid out and returned to her. He sat next to her and pulled her into his chest, leaning against the backboard to support them both.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “I know. It’s over.” He kissed her head, and she shot up to glare at him.

  “You’re dumping me?” she accused, and he gave her a confused look before his lips cracked into a grin.

  “No. I mean it’s over, the issue—it’s resolved.” He pulled her back to his chest. “Why would I break up with you after you took your punishment so damn well?” He kissed her head again and rubbed her arm.

  “Because I-I mean…I didn’t even listen to you in the living room.” She wiped her eyes but remained leaning into him. She could smell his aftershave, and it enveloped her like a warm blanket on a fall afternoon.

  “I know. I let that one go because it was your first punishment. In the future, you may not be so lucky.”

  “In the future?” she said more to herself than to him.

  “You’ll mess up again, and I’ll get pissed again. We’ll fight, and we’ll make up, and you’ll disobey, and I’ll punish you. Then you’ll obey again, and then we can have nights of fucking and ice cream. Just like you like.” She felt his smile and looked up at him.

  “Fucking and ice cream?” She grinned up at him. He chuckled. She noted the bulge in his jeans and reached down to caress him, but he pushed her hand away.

  “No.” His voice was firm, but his eyes remained soft. “I told you when I punish, there aren’t any orgasms or fun included.”

  “Not even for you?” She was surprised. Many of the blogs she read said the dominant had taken his pleasure from the sub after a punishment.

  “Not even for me. We are in this together. If you give me pleasure right now, you’ll be fulfilling your desire to please me, and that would make this less of a punishment. We both get denied, so you truly learn to be obedient.” He squeezed her closer to him when she took a deep breath.

  “You wante
d me to spend the night, though.” She reminded him.

  “Yes. I may not allow us physical release, but we can still reconnect. I want you in my bed and in my arms tonight.”

  “You really are not like anything I’ve heard about.” She shook her head. “Who ever heard of romance after a whipping?”

  He laughed again and pushed her gently from his chest. He ordered her to get under the covers, while he went about cleaning up the living room and getting ready for bed.

  She was nearly asleep when he climbed into bed beside her and hauled her up against his body. He was naked; she could feel the heat of his skin against hers. The muscles of her ass were a bit sore, but most of the tenderness had started to subside already.

  Her mind wandered over the events of the night and the worries she’d had about him throwing her away because of her actions. She felt closer to him now after the punishment than she had before. His heavy breathing told her he was already asleep, and she tried to drift away, too.

  One thought nagged her. How would they ever handle these sorts of things if they had a family? Would he treat his wife the same way? What if their children walked in while Mommy was tied up and Daddy was marking her with his belt?

  The closer she got to him the further away her dream of a family seemed to drift.

  CHAPTER twenty-six

  Then She Began to Ask Questions

  “You haven’t mentioned any brothers or sisters, or parents for that matter. Did you rise up out of some pumpkin patch somewhere?” Kelly’s question caught Kendrick off guard as he finished plating up scrambled eggs for their breakfast.

  “No, I was no miraculous birth.” He slid her plate in front of her at the table. It wasn’t long ago she’d sat in that chair the morning after her run-in with Ted. The physical attraction he’d felt toward her then had grown into a full out infatuation. He didn’t just want to fuck her; he wanted to own her. He wanted her in every way he could want a woman.

  She had taken her punishment with as much grace as he could have expected. She hadn’t tried to wheedle her way out of it; she’d been accepting. Sleeping beside her, holding her close to him had given him a more restful sleep than he could remember in a long time.

  She stared at him now with her large eyes, her hair tousled everywhere, strands coming out of the thick braid, and she hadn’t bothered to try to fix it before coming to the kitchen. She had slipped on one of his T-shirts, which only added to her casual lazy look. She looked as appealing to him in her roughed up look as she had all sleek and slick in her evening dress.

  “Well, then. Do you have a brother, sister?” she prodded as she took a heaping fork of scrambled to her lips.

  He sat with his cup of coffee. “Both. My parents are retired and moved to Arizona. I see them a few times a year. My brother, Jared, is a cop out in the suburbs, and my sister, Sharon, is somewhere in New York, last I heard. She’s an aspiring actress, screenwriter, or something like that and roams around a lot.”

  She finished chewing her eggs and swallowed before reaching for her glass of water. “Sharon sounds fun.” She grinned at him over the edge of her glass.

  “Tons.” Kendrick put his cup down on the table. “Trouble, too. Jared and I spent most of college bailing her out of one mess or another. She’s the baby,” he explained and leaned over the table to grab a piece of toast from her plate.

  “It must have been nice to have such a large family growing up.” She looked at him with a hint of sadness he had not seen before. “There wasn’t anyone to bail me out when I was younger.” She refocused on her plate.

  “I can imagine the trouble you caused in high school.” He laughed. The image of a younger, wilder version of Kelly crept into his mind, and he couldn’t stop the grin from crossing his lips.

  “Oh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s a ton of ways to raise hell in Barrington. Besides, it didn’t really matter. My parents were rarely around.” She shrugged as though it didn’t bother her, but she couldn’t fake the look of her eyes.

  He suddenly felt the urge to find her parents and shake them until their teeth chipped.

  “You don’t see them often.” He tried to hide his concern by taking a long drink of his coffee.

  “Not any less than when I lived with them.” She shrugged again. A dark shadow shifted through her gaze, something that seemed to deeply concern her, but she didn’t offer it to him.

  “So, I guess you don’t have any nieces or nephews yet?” She appeared to be poking around for something, gauging his reaction to some hidden topic.

  “No, not yet. Jared isn’t looking for a family, so I doubt that’ll happen, and Sharon is too focused on Sharon right now. I don’t think she’s had a boyfriend for more than a month since high school.”

  She stared at her plate, fork in hand posed over the eggs. She was obviously deep in thought, and there was something she wanted to ask. Her forehead was wrinkled, and she kept chewing on the inside of her lip, but she said nothing.

  He watched her; she had never been so cautious in her wording. Everything she thought managed to pop out of her mouth, so whatever she was worrying about must be something really important to her.

  “Wow!” She nodded toward the kitchen clock on the microwave. “It’s getting late. I have a class in an hour.” Without another word, she pushed away from the table and ran out.

  Kendrick followed her for a few steps but stopped when he heard the bathroom door slam. With a heavy sigh, he headed back to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever start to understand her.

  He busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen and making a few calls for work. Two crew meetings and dealing with a new client for a system installation would take up most of his day. Not long ago he’d used work as a way to busy his mind, to distract himself from the things he didn’t have in his life. Like a life. After Elizabeth, he hadn’t put much effort in finding a new girlfriend or a submissive. He’d played now and then at the club with old friends and people he knew well enough to have a casual play session with, but never did he look for someone who would fulfill him. Kelly was starting to fill in the gaps, and it felt good.

  She didn’t take herself too seriously, or him, for that matter. Although she had thrown herself into his life and had demanded the path she was traveling on, she made no demands on him. He knew she probably had a million unrealistic expectations, but she hadn’t tried to fit him into any of them. Instead, she followed his lead and let him drive the course.

  As happy as he was finding himself with her, he had a hard knot in his gut that something wasn’t right. She was holding back a worry from him.

  There was also the Ted issue. They hadn’t talked about it again, but Kendrick wondered if she still contemplated helping catch Ted in the act of drugging a girl.

  A damp-haired Kelly ran into the kitchen, sporting the clothing she’d worn the night before when she’d arrived. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a bun, and her face lacked any make-up. She was radiant. The girl next door had nothing on Kelly’s looks, Kendrick thought to himself as she stuffed her cell into her back pocket.

  “I’m gonna run. I have to swing by my house for a change of clothes before I head to school.” She grabbed the glass of water and downed it. He couldn’t help but grin at her.

  “I’ll drive you. It’ll be faster,” he offered as they walked to the front door.

  She gathered her purse from the closet and shook her head. “No, that’s okay. A cab is more willing to break a few traffic laws for an extra fat tip than you are.” She patted his cheek playfully.

  “I can drive aggressively.” He felt the need to defend his male ego. “I was a cop, and we don’t exactly drive Miss Daisy, you know.”

  “Yes. I know. But you aren’t a cop now. Now you drive a reasonable car and drive at a respectable speed.” She slid her hands up his chest until she cupped his face. He felt very much the consoled child and quickly shook her hands off of him.

  He grabbed her by the scruff o
f her neck and pulled her toward him, slamming his mouth onto hers. He didn’t go slow or gently. He took the kiss. She may have parted her lips to allow his entry, but he controlled every level of the embrace. When he pulled away, her lips looked a tad swollen, and he grinned down at her dazed expression.

  “You may take a cab, but you aren’t allowed to tip him more for speed.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “When you get off work, stop home, pack a bag with a few sets of clothes in it, so you don’t have to worry about going home if you end up spending the night then come here. I won’t be home until around seven, make yourself comfortable. And by comfortable, I mean naked.” He released her and opened the front door.

  She stared at him in silence, slowly her lips twisted upward into a grin. “I’ll see you tonight then.” She reached up and planted a kiss on his chin before walking out the door.

  He watched her saunter down the hall from his doorway until she reached the elevator. The doors slid open as if they knew she was arriving and closed just as she turned to give him a little wave. He leaned his head back against the door frame and closed his eyes.

  Reasonable car, respectable speed? He’d show her respectable speed.

  Kendrick stood in front of his apartment door, holding his keys in his hand. It was almost seven, and work had drained him both mentally and physically. The prospect of finding Kelly inside was the driving force that had got him through the muck of his day. He took a few deep breaths to shake off his stress and entered the apartment.

  For a moment, he thought she hadn’t gotten there yet. The front hall was dark, as well as the living room. He could hear a faint humming sound, and the smell of potatoes cooking gave away her location. Locking the door behind him, he headed to the kitchen.

  Wearing nothing, except an apron, Kelly stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot. Her hair had managed to stay tightly in the bun at the back of her head throughout the day. Her breasts were barely covered by the narrow top of the apron, her nipples being the last thing covered by the fabric. She had put on makeup for the day, but most of it had been rubbed off—the woman was constantly rubbing her eyes and temples.