Unexpected Surrender

by J. M. Walker

  She moaned, arching against me.

  After the first time I put her in my cage, it became a normal thing for us. It usually consisted of a few hours before I let her out, basking in her ultimate submission.

  “I’ll do anything to help you,” she panted. “You know that.”

  “I do, pet. Fuck do I ever.” And I loved her even more for it.

  Inching my hands between us, I spread her open even more. My hips sped up, my cock thrusting in and out of her.

  Lexi shivered against me. She grabbed onto my dress shirt, pulling me even closer. “Please, Sir. I need you…I need to…”

  Fisting her hair, I tugged her head back and crushed my mouth to hers. I slowed my hips, driving her past the point of madness.

  She cried out in frustration. Although she hated the anticipation, I knew she liked the powerful orgasm in the end.

  Lexi had been right. It had been way too damn long. We had both been busy all week, our only foreplay was a high five in the hall way and a kiss at night. When we first got married, I would normally wake her up when I got home by slipping into her tight body but now that we had kids, that was a little harder to do. My wife needed her rest and I had to control the raging beast inside of me.

  “Luther,” Lexi moaned, pulling me from my thoughts.

  Just when I was about to pull out of her and drop to my knees, a soft knock sounded on the door.

  Both of us stiffened.

  “Yeah?” she called out.

  “Mama, Uncle Charlie won’t let me watch cartoons.”

  “Tattletale!”

  “But you promised,” our daughter, Faith cried.

  “Daddy, can I watch fire trucks?” Emilia asked.

  “No! I’m watching cartoons.”

  “But…but…” A scream sounded, followed by a laugh. “You whore!”

  Lexi gasped, her eyes widening. “Where did she get that from?”

  “They’re your kids.” I shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “As fucking if.” Lexi grabbed onto my shirt, pulling me lower. “They’re our kids, Mr. Knight.”

  I grinned.

  “Mama! Mama!”

  Lexi huffed.

  I laughed. “I wonder what Emilia wants now.”

  “I have no idea, but I know what her mama wants.” Lexi pushed me back until I was sitting on the edge of the tub.

  “Yeah?” I grabbed onto her hips. “And what’s that?”

  She only grinned and straddled my lap.

  ***

  (Lexi)

  I loved our daughters but when Luther and I had to sneak away into the bathroom after hardly seeing each other for a week, it got old. And fast. It didn’t help that my brother instigated things. Between him and my nephew, I wasn’t sure who was worse.

  “Hey, Vanessa,” I said, sitting down beside my sister-in-law and handing her a bottle of water. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fat. And huge as a fucking whale.” Although she was complaining, she placed her hands on her swollen stomach and stared down at her unborn baby with love. It would be her and my brother’s third child.

  Luther and I stopped having children after two. Especially when having Emilia almost killed me. And we were fine with that. As much as he wanted to have a house filled with children, having our two daughters was perfect. Although, his black hair had started sprouting some gray ever since Faith told him she liked a boy.

  I looked around me.

  Charlie was playing with his son, King. He bounced him on his lap which would result in an eruption of giggles from the two-year-old.

  Vanessa would smile and also warn him every so often not to bounce their son too hard.

  Emilia sat on the floor with her legs crossed beneath her, happy that she finally got to watch her cartoons.

  Ricky poked her every so often. Being Charlie’s and Vanessa’s first born, I found that he was the most like my brother. And just as annoying.

  Emilia slapped his hand away, giving him a glare but Ricky would keep poking her. He continued until she pushed him over.

  “That’s my girl,” Luther said, his voice booming with pride.

  I smiled, watching our family. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to spend the weekend.

  The cushion beside me lowered, a hot mouth kissing the back of my neck.

  “I love you, pet.”

  I shivered. “I love you too.” I glanced at Luther. “Sir.”

  He grinned, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back against him. “I’m so damn happy, Lexi.”

  “Me too.” I cupped his face. “I really am. And…” I glanced at Charlie. “Thank you for bringing him back to us.”

  Charlie’s gaze flicked my way.

  Even though it had been several years since it was revealed that Charlie’s death had been fake, both Vanessa and I thanked Luther. Every damn day.

  “I didn’t do anything.” Luther jutted his chin forward. “It was all him.”

  Vanessa sat forward. “You know, it’s been a while but we still don’t know everything that happened that night.”

  Luther stiffened beside me.

  I gave my head a small shake.

  Vanessa sighed. “Fine. I know you’ll tell me eventually though.”

  Luther blew out a slow breath, muttering a thank you.

  I only nodded.

  It had taken me months to get out of him what happened and eventually I found out that he did in fact kill his best friend. I had a feeling all along that it went down that way, but it took a long while for him to outright say it.

  While all of us sat in silence, watching our children, I couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like if I’d never met Luther.

  But I didn’t have to wonder for long because I knew that there was no place I’d rather be than right there in Luther’s arms.

  THE END

  Lexi

  “I CAN’T DO THIS.”

  “Yes.” Luther placed the end of the whip in my hand. “You can.”

  “No.” I shook my head, shoving the whip against his chest. “This isn’t right. Whip me. Take out your pain on me instead. But I can’t…not to you.”

  “Pet.” Luther grabbed my hand, placing the whip in my palm. “There’s only ever been one woman who’s whipped me. And I know, even though you won’t admit it or haven’t asked about it, you wonder where she is or what happened there.”

  I looked away, tightening my hold on the item in my hand. “I trust you.”

  “I know you do.” He kissed my cheek. “And I trust you. I need you to make me feel better. To take me out of my head. To show me just how dominant you can be.”

  I looked up at him then. “But I’m not. I’m not dominant at all.”

  He gave me a small smile. “Yeah, you are. Maybe not with me. But I’ve seen you run your deli and bark orders at the staff. It makes me hard every single time.”

  I laughed lightly.

  Looking down at the whip in my hand, I swung it back and forth. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I’ll teach you.” Luther stepped away from me and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “But…” I swallowed hard. “What if I hurt you?”

  He chuckled, turning away from me and slid the fabric off of his strong torso. He folded the shirt, placing it on a nearby chair. “That’s the point, pet. I need you to hurt me. The pain is what I crave, and I know after the first couple of strikes, it’ll turn you on, just as much as it’ll turn me on.”

  “Did…” I hated to ask but I needed to know. “Did you fuck the woman who whipped you?”

  Luther looked at me over his shoulder. “No, pet. I didn’t.”

  I swung the whip, the sound of the end slapping against the floor ignited this newfound awareness inside of me. “Why not?”

  “Because she was older for one. Much older.” Luther stopped in front of the St. Andrew’s Cross and turned toward me. “And it wasn’t about sex.”

  “But it is now. Isn’t it?�
�� I took a step toward him, the heels of my shoes clicking against the tile floor.

  “No, pet. It’s not.”

  “What is it then?” I asked, closing the distance between us.

  “It’s more.” He bent at the waist, placing a hard peck on my mouth. “Give me your wrath, pet. All of it. Every ounce of pain you have felt over the years. And take mine just the same. Please.”

  I looked away at the desperation dripping from his deep voice.

  “Lexi.” He pinched my chin, turning my head toward him. “Please. I mean it. If I didn’t, I would be whipping you instead. But I’m not. I need this from you.”

  I searched his face, looking for something. Anything that meant he didn’t actually want this. But when I couldn’t find what I was hoping for, I stepped away from him. “Turn around,” I whispered.

  When he didn’t move, I cleared my throat.

  “Turn around,” I repeated. “Now.”

  A grin spread on his face and much to my surprise, he actually turned around.

  My body buzzed, my heart jumping that he listened to me. Oh, I could get used to this.

  Luther stepped up to the St. Andrew’s Cross and reached his hands overhead. Wrapping his fingers around the leather cuffs, he waited.

  “Should I cuff you?” I asked him.

  “Do you want to?”

  “N-Not really. No. I don’t think I do.” Restraining him would be something we could explore later.

  “As you wish, pet.”

  I swallowed hard at the deep vibrato of his voice as it washed over me. It tickled my skin, sending courage coursing through me. Courage that I could do this. Courage that I wouldn’t break the man I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. Courage that he wouldn’t hate me for it in the end.

  I stepped up behind him and ran my fingers gently down his spine.

  He shivered, his head rolling back on his shoulders. He tightened his hold on the straps when a thought came to me.

  “I think I want to restrain you,” I murmured.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “Go ahead, pet. Whatever you want.”

  I placed a soft peck on his back, running my fingers down his sides. “Are you sure? We can stop. We can do something else.”

  “No,” he said, his voice rough. “Do it.”

  “Okay.” I placed the whip on a table sitting by the wall and pulled the stool out from beneath it. Once I had it on the floor behind Luther, I stepped onto it and began shackling his wrists into the leather cuffs that hung from the ceiling.

  “They’re so high,” I said, staring up at the cuffs hanging down toward me.

  “They are but they’re attached to a pully system, so I can make them lower. That way your toes aren’t dragging on the floor.” Luther kissed the side of my neck. “But if you’re a bad girl, I’ll hang you from the cuffs, so you can’t touch the ground at all. Your shoulders would become sore and the only way out of it would be to use your safeword.”

  “Hmm…” I turned in his arms. “I like that idea.”

  It had felt like months ago that Luther first introduced me to the St. Andrew’s Cross when in all reality, it hadn’t been long at all. And now, there we were, standing in the basement of our home. He had the brand-new playroom designed and built just for us and this would be the first time that he was the one strapped to the cross instead of me.

  “Does that hurt?” I asked him, remembering that he always asked me if I was in any pain.

  “No.” Luther tugged on the leather straps that I had shackled around his wrists. “I’ve never felt these before.”

  “Um…I mean…do we…do you need a safeword?”

  “No, pet.” His voice was raspy. “If I need you to stop, you’ll know it.”

  “Okay. “ I picked up the whip, slapping the tail against the ground. The sound shot through me. “Holy hell.” I looked between the whip and his bare back. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You can, pet.” Luther leaned his head back. “I promise that you can.”

  “Do you love me?” I asked him.

  “Fuck yes. Please, Lexi.” His muscles bunched beneath his skin, the tattoos on his body moving with every breath he took.

  Before I could think twice about it, I drew my hand back and gave it a snap of the wrist. The end landed against Luther’s back.

  He jumped.

  I gasped.

  “More, Lexi. Whip me harder,” he demanded.

  “I…” My heart started racing. I had seen whipping enough in movies but never like this. I repeated the movement, faster and harder this time. The end left a red line across his back.

  “Fuck,” Luther groaned.

  “Oh god, Sir.” My chest ached.

  “Don’t stop, pet,” he bit out. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

  “But—”

  “Lexi, come here.”

  I did as I was told and moved in front of him.

  “I promise, baby. You can’t do any damage. No more than has already been caused. Do you understand me?”

  “But I—”

  “I asked you a question.” His dark eyes burned into me.

  “Yes, I understand.” But it didn’t mean that I liked it.

  “Good, now continue and keep going. Give me as many fucking lashes as you can.”

  “Okay.” I went back around him and began pacing. I could do this. I promised him I would help him in any way that I could. Chewing my bottom lip, I braced myself and let the tail of the whip dance across his skin.

  ***

  (Luther)

  It had been a long time since I felt the sting of the whip slice across my back. The burn of the tip as it grazed over my skin. Or the heat of the leather as it pierced into my flesh.

  My body shook, a sheen of sweat coating my skin.

  Lexi repeated the movements. Over and over again. It was almost too much and then at the same time, it wasn’t enough.

  I pulled on the restraints wrapped tightly around my wrists.

  With every whip, every smack of the leather against my skin, the love for this woman behind me, grew.

  My soul called out to her. Begging. Pleading. Aching for that divine, delicious pain she so graciously gave me.

  I was vaguely aware of the sounds leaving my mouth.

  My body became hard. The hardest I had ever been.

  The muscles beneath my skin twisted and bent as my body subconsciously tried to sway away from the sting when my mind was begging for more.

  Yes, baby, just like that. A little more. Fuck, the pain is so damn good.

  But as much as I enjoyed—no—needed the pain, my hands still gripped the chains in the ceiling. My arms still pulled. The sound of the drywall cracking still graced my ears.

  A slow, wicked grin spread on my face.

  My pet was enjoying this. Maybe more than I was. But little did she know that no matter how much I needed these sessions, I would always be her Master.

  ***

  (Lexi)

  I had whipped Luther ten times before I stopped. My chest heaved. Sweat dripped down the length of my spine.

  “More,” he said, his voice barely audible.

  “Luther, your back is—” His back was torn up. All because of me. All because he begged me to whip him.

  “More,” he repeated, his voice firmer that time.

  I did as I was told, letting the end of the whip slice into his skin.

  “Stop!” A sound left him. It was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was a cross between a sob and a groan.

  But what surprised me most was when he pulled the cuffs from the ceiling and fell to his knees. Drywall fell down around him, hitting the floor in tiny clouds of dust.

  I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn’t.

  Luther’s chest rose and fell, blood dripped from the cuts in his back. He had brought me to watch a whipping scene at The Club a few weeks back but even that never ended up bloody.

  His head turned, his
dark eyes meeting mine as he looked at me over his shoulder.

  My core clenched, the whip falling from my hand and landing on the ground with a thud. Taking a step back and then another, I turned to run because I wasn’t sure what else to do, when I was tackled to the ground.

  Luther tore at my clothes, bending over me and sunk his teeth into the back of my neck.

  I cried out as the sharp delicious pain washed over my skin.

  With rough hands, he had my dress to my hips and my panties shredded from my body in a matter of seconds.

  He thrust inside of me, forcing a scream to fall from my lips.

  He slapped a hand to the ground beside my head, keeping his mouth on the back of my neck. His hot breath scorched my skin.

  I wrapped a hand around his forearm, the black leather cuff still wrapped around his wrist. “Luther.”

  His release spilled into me, his breathing ragged. “Fuck, I love you.”

  “Oh god.” I rolled onto my back, staring up at him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

  “No, baby.” His body shook, his eyes dark and glassy. “Never. I’m sorry that was quick, but I didn’t want to cum in my pants.”

  “Oh.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m sorry for—”

  “Don’t be.” He leaned down, giving me a soft kiss.

  I spent the rest of the night cleaning and dressing his wounds only for him to make love to me again. And again.

  He whispered over and over how thankful he was for me. How much the therapy session helped and would continue to help.

  When we were wrapped up in each other’s arms later that night, I couldn’t help but watch him sleep. His dark lashes fanned out of the top of his cheeks. His black bangs, he always had to push out of his eyes but refused to cut knowing I liked playing with them, were resting on his forehead.

  I brushed my fingers over his cheek, placing a soft peck on his shoulder, careful not to touch his back.

  “I love you, Luther,” I whispered. “And I can’t wait to make you a father.”

  His eyes popped open. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  I laughed, a sly grin spreading on my face.

  J.M. Walker is an Amazon bestselling author who also hit USA Today with Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology. She loves all things books, pigs and lip gloss. She is happily married to the man who inspires all of her Heroes and continues to make her weak in the knees every single day.