I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just going with the flow. I get out of my chair, coming around to Rafe’s side, and get on my knees. “Since I let you put this collar on me, I’ve let you make many decisions, even when your decision has been to let me make my own decision. I have submitted to you, given you my whole life. I have never regretted one instant of it. So I declare right now, in front of everyone . . . Rafe Meyers, you are my Master, and I will serve you the rest of my life. I love you.”
Rafe wipes his lips with his napkin as it seems that everyone in the bistro falls silent. Faces turn toward us, and I can see some people leaning forward, caught up in the moment as well. He pushes his chair back and gets on the floor, kneeling in front of me, nodding. “My Angel . . . my life is complete with you in it. And I vow to be the best Master I can for you. But I have something else I want you to be.”
My heart catches in my throat as he reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a box, and I realize that maybe I jumped the gun a little, but that’s okay, because Rafe was thinking the same thing I was. “Master?”
“Shawnie Holliday, would you do this man the honor of becoming my wife?” he asks, opening the box. Inside is a beautiful ring made of the same material as my collar, but this time, instead of a golden lock, there’s a diamond in the top. I can barely swallow it’s so beautiful, and I nod. Rafe takes my hand and puts the ring on, pausing before he seats it all the way. “Well?”
“Huh?” I ask, then realize that I never said my answer. “Oh, of course I will! I love you. Yes, Rafe . . . I will marry you.”
We kiss on our knees and the bistro explodes into applause. I hear a comment in a Midwestern accent about only in California while someone else pops a cork of champagne, and when we get up off the carpet, two flutes have been poured for us, compliments of the house.
Dinner is nothing but a delicious blur, and by the time the dessert plates are cleared away, my mind is thinking of just one thing. I can see it in Rafe’s eyes too, and it’s a miracle we don’t actually crash driving home. As soon as we get inside, I’m in his arms, our lips and bodies pressed together through the frustrating millimeters of fabric, his hands roaming over my body while I try to peel his suit off him.
“You had a surprise for me all dinner,” Master says when his hand runs over my hip, not feeling anything under my gown. “Did I tell you that you could go pantyless?”
“No, Master,” I purr, feeling his cock stiffen in his pants against my hip, “but it’s a Vera Wang. Panty lines would screw up the flow. I decided to be a little playful.”
“Good girl. Keep being the Angel who saved my life and keep being the woman I love,” Rafe says before his lips find my neck and he sends warm threads of desire through me. He pulls the straps of my gown to the side and it falls off me, leaving me in nothing but my stockings and high heels.
“Mmm, Master . . . I love your strength.”
He carries me past the play room and to our bedroom, laying me on the soft surface. I mewl in desire and a little disappointment, making him chuckle. “We have all weekend, Angel. You might be cleared by the doctors, but I doubt they expect you to be bound and spanked the very first time.”
“But I like it when you make my ass burn,” I tease, growling. “Still . . . we do have all weekend.”
Rafe strips out of his suit quickly before pausing and teasing me by taking off my high heels and stockings himself, his fingers leaving trails of electricity up my legs before he takes them off, kissing the toes on my right foot and licking up the sole. He’s never done this before, and the sensation as he sucks each toe into his mouth, his tongue running in between, is both amazingly erotic and tender.
He kisses my big toe before switching. It’s like my feet are somehow connected directly to my pussy, and I’m throbbing, aching for his touch when he lets my foot down, his eyes dark blue with desire. “Fast or slow?”
“Slow,” I moan. “But Master . . . this way please?”
I turn over, presenting myself to him, and he hums in appreciation, a strong hand running over my wings and down my back to smack my ass lightly, making me gasp. “Making love this time . . . but I’m so going to punish you tomorrow for not wearing panties tonight.”
Just his words send a deep red ribbon of desire coursing through me, and I push back into his hand as he brings it between my legs, lightly rubbing my lips as he reaches around with his other hand to gently squeeze my left breast. “Mmm . . . so good.”
His fingers and his hand work together while his body brushes against my back to stoke the fires inside me. He kisses my wings and tastes the salty sweat on my skin until I’m gasping, caught in a wave of pleasure as he slips two fingers inside my pussy. “Master!”
“It’s okay, Angel,” he whispers in my ear. “You can come as many times as you want tonight. Tonight isn’t Master and Angel, or Rafe and Shawnie. It’s about us. Something new, unnamed yet. And I love you.”
I turn my head and kiss him, rolling to my side as he takes his fingers out of my soaked pussy to savor my essence. His eyes gleam as he sucks his fingers slowly. “And you wonder why I love licking your pussy.”
I laugh lightly as he strokes my hair, and it’s my turn to lean down, kissing his neck and tasting his skin, kissing down to his hard chest muscles before sucking on his tight nipples while my hand finds his cock and pumps it slowly. He moans softly, and I have to giggle, biting his nipple lightly and making him jump even as he gasps in pleasure. “You’re definitely getting punished for that one . . .”
I kiss back up to his lips, finding them and kissing him with all of my emotion and desire, our bodies merging naturally. He’s right, this time there is no top or bottom, no Master or Angel, and even the idea of Shawnie and Rafe just disappears as our bodies, souls and hearts become one.
The feeling of his cock slipping inside me is both breathtaking and totally natural, just the next step on this new life we’re building, and as he thrusts in and out, my body and heart cry out with pure, unmitigated joy. The pain, the loneliness that went back even further than California, all of it falls from my shoulders, and instead, I can see the future. I can see staying by his side, the planes we’ll design, the family we’ll raise, the love we’ll make.
Our bodies move faster, his cock sliding in and out of me faster, and I start to drive myself back into him, giving as much as I’m taking. Maybe to someone who doesn’t understand us, it might look like we’re angry, the growls and sounds of our bodies growing more and more animalistic and powerful, but that’s who we are. His hips pound into me and I love it. My fingernails scratch at his back and he loves it. Our sweat makes our bodies slide against each other, my breasts squashed against him as we push harder and harder.
We’re kissing when it happens, the supposedly mythical simultaneous orgasm, his cock exploding at the same instant that my pussy clenches and our minds are carried away in a wave of joyful ecstasy. Everything goes white, my vision fading, and I don’t care. He’s in my arms, I’m in his, and that’s all that counts. Even as the whiteness fades and I realize that both of us are tumbling into unconsciousness, I’m safe and secure in his arms.
Chapter 29
The Counselor
To say that this appointment is happening the way it’s happening is pretty unexpected. It's been years since a patient was escorted to a session by an armed man in a black suit. Actually, I've never had that happen before.
Sorry about that. It has to be this way, though. They’re still working on the exact terms of our release and so they’re being a little paranoid. We have to submit our daily schedule to them and our phones are tracked. Kinda sucks, but that’s okay. I’d hate to tell them I’ve told you everything about our work on the secret alien UFOs.
Very funny. So this is our last time?
I think so, at least as a patient, although if you’ve got some free time, maybe we can get together for coffee. I mostly wanted to have a chance to say thank you and to give you a little bit of an upd
ate. Rafe and I talked about it, and I realize that you may think you didn’t help me. Truth is, you've done your best to help me through the darkest days, and you should get a chance to know more about everything. By the way, sorry about that with the whole you can't take notes this time or use any recording devices thing. They weren't too much of dicks, were they?
No, they were actually quite professional. Surprising, but not a problem. So tell me what's happening?
Well, the parole is kinda weird, but for the next six months or so, we’re going to be working at a test facility, so it’s not like there’s going to be that much to do besides work anyway. Rafe’s taking a one-semester sabbatical while I’m just getting credit for my PhD work. When we come back, I’ll finish up my PhD, and then, we’re testing the waters as to whether we want to stay in the academic world or if we’d like to see if maybe we can start our own aircraft design company. But first, we’re going to take a little vacation if they’ll get the damn paperwork done in time, and then . . . well, Vegas is sort of nearby—it’ll work in a pinch.
On that, by the way . . . congratulations. You look happy about it.
Of course I am. I mean, in the weeks since he asked, my entire life has been turned upside down and inside out, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Still have the perfect GPA, by the way. But really though, it’s been amazing. It’s funny. I think everyone thought I was going to ask him when I got down there, and then he just took over so perfectly. But at that moment, on my knees in that restaurant, I was the happiest I’ve been in my whole life. How many submissives can say they’re happy when their Master gets on their knees for them?
Not too many. Then again, I don’t think either of you can be constrained by the terms dominant or submissive anymore. You’ve transcended any sort of labels, at least the way I see it. And now that you’re fully healed . . .
We’ve done things that . . . well, even I’m still rocking and reeling from it.
That’s great to hear, but I have a feeling you didn’t come in today to tell me that.
No, like I said, I just came by to tell you how much help you’ve been. And to tell you I’ve finally come to a realization about something.
A realization about what?
Well, I realized the first time that Rafe told me that he loved me . . . that the demon isn’t dead.
It isn’t?
No. Neither is the woman I am now. The demon is part of me, it’s that side of me that was ashamed of what happened to me in Georgia. I overcame it, and I think I’m a better person because of it.
I’m sure you still wish it never happened, but I’m glad you’re in the place you are now. So what now?
Well, we’re going to get married, of course. And we’re going to make some kick-ass aircraft together. What do you think about that?
It sounds like you’re happy and you’ve made your decision. I’m happy for you.
Thank you. Thank you for everything. You busted your ass seeing me in my darkest days, and I’ll never forget it.
You thanked me enough by coming out of that darkness. Enjoy your marriage and your new life, Shawnie. And if you get a chance over the next few months . . . drop me a line. Just to tell me that you're doing fine, or maybe if you get a chance when you get off the testing ground, stop by. We can share some popcorn and talk.
I think I’d like that. I'll see what I can do. Thanks again.
Good luck, Shawnie. So what are you doing for the rest of the day?
I’m going wedding dress shopping.
I'll say again. Good luck. You deserve it after all that you've been through.
Epilogue
Shawnie
Dear Doc,
I promised you that I'd try to keep you up to date on how things are going, and I just wanted to send you a quick note.
Both of us are fine. I wish I could give you an address and some pictures, but you know how that goes. While I’m enjoying the work that I’m doing out here in the desert I’m (the following lines have been deleted by the United States government for national security purposes). So I guess I really am learning a lot out here.
Hey, I had some good news as well. A couple of days ago, I started feeling like hell in the stomach, and I know it isn’t the food out here. They do a good job of that. So I went to the infirmary, and we have great news. Yep . . . I’m going to be a mother! Now, what’s even more surprising—but I guess it isn’t, considering who my husband is—apparently, twins tend to run in his family gene pool, so there’s a part of me that’s hoping that right about the Fourth of July or so, we’ll be getting a chance to introduce a couple of twins to the world! The timing is perfect too, because it’ll be just after the government (the following lines have been deleted by the United States government for national security purposes) and we can look at going back to Palo Alto. Of course, we’re both being silly tossing around names. We’ve pretty much decided that Jamie and Cersei are out, but the rest are up for grabs. Trying to balance the geek inside us with the reality of the world is a very interesting conundrum.
There’s so much that we both would like to tell you, to help you understand who we are and why we’ve chosen the path we’ve taken, but that’s Master’s choice. If it helps, I think you’re trustworthy enough on that, but it’s his choice.
Anyway, thank you. I know when we parted that you thought that Master did most of the work that resulted in my recovery, even if you said that you understood what we’d both told you about how we felt about you. Still, over the past few months, I've thought about it, and you don't give yourself enough credit. To pull from my own field of expertise, rocketry was invented somewhere around eight hundred years ago. The Wright Brothers built their first plane in 1902. The first design for a gas turbine engine was done in 1791, but the first aircraft jet engine wasn't built until the 1930s, and the first jet didn't fly until 1939.
Yet, without those eight hundred years between that first time someone used steam or gunpowder to send a rocket on its way and 1939, we'd never have the work that I do today. We all stand on the shoulders of giants, and Rafe's work was built on the foundation you'd laid. I owe you my life and my happiness, so don't ever doubt my debt to you.
In any case, when I get baby pics or an ultrasound scan or something, I'll send them along. Until then, take care.
Your former patient,
Shawnie “Angel” Meyers
Dear Abby,
I'm sorry that I've been so light in my emails to you. I'd love to tell you every detail, but with the rules that we have to live under until we get this thing up and into the air, that’s pretty much impossible. And not being able to Skype with you is pure agony. I’m so looking forward to getting out of here and back to a place where I can see your pretty face. But don't ever doubt—my feelings for you and Dane haven't faded at all. Actually, that's what I wanted to email you about.
One of the advantages of doing the sort of stuff we do for the government is that we get some access to people and can make some threats that get things done. I know that Dane kept saying he didn't care about his discharge, and that since he has you and Shawn, he's happy with the way things are in his life.
Over the past few months, I've come to understand that more, since obviously, I’m starting to adjust to not only being married, but becoming a mother. More on that, but I wanted to give you a little good news about your big hunk of a man.
A couple of months ago, I did a little kicking the anthill, getting in the face of some people, and they agreed just to get me to shut up and do my work. Idiots actually think I'd stop working, or maybe they just decided it wasn't important enough to take the risk. In any case, if you or Dane contact the VA and ask for his military release form, you'll see a few changes. Specifically, he is now listed as having been honorably discharged on the same day he was released from Leavenworth and that his final rank upon discharge is now an E-5 Sergeant. It's not much, and I couldn't convince them to give Dane all of his missed back pay for that time in custody, b
ut I did what I could.
On a personal note, there are so many things I have to tell you. Laying it all out on paper, the way I was hiding things from you and not telling you about what I was going through, I nearly tore up that letter four or five times before Rafe convinced me to put it in the mail. But there’s more that I need to talk to you about. You’re my dearest friend, and it tore me apart not telling you. And I’m sorry you couldn’t be at the wedding. I want to explain how I’ve been able to recover and to hopefully get your understanding on how and why I’ve chosen to live the life I have.
On that note, keep your eyes open come Thanksgiving. It’s the first big chance, what with the sabbatical ending and us both going back to Stanford. I’ve got to finish up my dissertation, and then we’ll see what happens then. Anyway, come Turkey Day you might get a few visitors, so if a strange car pulls up outside your daddy's mansion, tell him to keep the shotgun behind the door.
All my love,
Shawnie
“You ready?” Rafe asks, taking my hand. “It's a nice house, by the way. Mr. Rawlings certainly has made a nice life for himself.”
“True,” I agree, putting my free hand on the handles of the stroller. “Abby’s father has done well for himself.”
The door opens even before we're halfway up the walk, and I stop, my heart clenching at seeing my best friend there. She's just as beautiful as before, all honey blond Southern belle, and the excitement on her face as she walks out with as much restraint as she can is obvious. Rafe lets go of my hand and takes the stroller, and I run the few steps to Abby, embracing her. “Oh, God, it's so good to see you!”
“It's good to see you too, Abs,” I whisper, tears making me rasp. “It's so damn good to see you.”
Crossing the Line Page 39
