Back Where We Belong (A Second Chances New Adult Romance)

by Hart, Alana

  “I love you too,” I say. “I always have loved you from the first time we ate chocolate ice cream together.” We get out and grab some dry towels from the radiator.

  “You were a lot better behaved then,” he teases. “You didn't make a mess with your food at all in those days.”

  “You'll have to teach me to behave again.” My heart thuds in anticipation. I remember the last time at the beach house when we were younger and how it felt when he spanked me. I remember how I loved it.

  “I'd like nothing better, but...”

  “Spank me, Luke. I want you to spank me.”

  “Oh, I'd love to take you right over my knee right now and spank your little bottom until your cheeks turn pink and you come for me, but Madison, give yourself a chance to recover. You're just getting better. Taking control. I don't want to push something that might get in the way of that. ”

  And I guess he's right, but I would have liked him to try. I guess that's not going to happen today. But we'll get there. I know we will.

  “Besides,” he says, “we'll have a lifetime to play any way you like.”

  “A lifetime? That's a long time.”

  “Yes, a lifetime. I want to marry you, Madison.”

  I wasn't expecting that. Not already.

  “No, Luke, I can't.”

  “You can't? Or you don't want to?”

  “You think I'm broken. What if you always think like that?”

  “I don't think you're broken. Maybe a bit fragile right now.”

  “Exactly. You're holding yourself back. Treating me differently.”

  “Fuck, Madison, I'm doing my best to help you get over it. Is this all because I wouldn't spank you? I just don't want to be like them. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to remind you of them.”

  “You're nothing like them. I don't want you to treat me like some china doll you can't play with. You used to tell me what to do. I liked that. I miss that Luke.”

  The tears are rolling down my cheeks. I can't stop them.

  “You're nothing like them,” I say, “because when I tell you to stop, you stop. You always did. I trust you.”

  “I’m sorry. You're right. You can trust me.”

  “And I'll let you know if I want you to stop.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, don't worry. You'll be the first to know.”

  He dries my tears and kisses me so tenderly on my hair, my nose and then my mouth, and then the kisses become more passionate, deeper, and I lose myself in them, in him. Our towels have long ago fallen to the floor.

  “So,” he says with a smirk on his face. “You're naked. I'm naked. And I've got a free rein.”

  “Not quite, I've got a say in this too.” I laugh.

  We're going to be okay. I know we are.

  CHAPTER 53

  LUKE

  I don't spank Madison that night. I fuck her in the bathroom with her leaning over the counter. I fuck her harder than I might have done before we talked, and she squeals in pleasure. It's good to know she can take it hard, that she still likes it, but I don't spank her.

  We shower again, get dressed and eat dinner. She throws the sheets in the washing machine.

  “Look at the mess you made of those sheets,” I say as she shuts the door on the machine.

  “The mess I made?” she says, turning around and laughing. “What about you?”

  “You started it and I'm going to punish you for that, but not tonight.”

  “No? When, then?”

  “Saturday. I'm going to come around on Saturday. I'm going to take you over my knee and spank you then.”

  She throws her arms around me and kisses me on the lips like she's happy I gave in. But I want to be sure that's what she really wants. That she's not just saying it because she thinks that's what I want from her.

  “I can't wait,” she says. “You sure you don't want to spank me tonight?”

  “Anticipation is everything.”

  She pouts a little. I love that little pouty look. It takes all my control not to take her over my knee right then.

  “And you have to let me know you want it.”

  “I can tell you now, I want it.”

  “No, not like that. If you want it, you have to show me you're ready. Wear a skirt for me and no panties.”

  Her eyes widen. I’ve never asked her to wear anything special for me.

  She seems to like the idea so I go on. “And if you want to be spanked extra hard, some of those thigh high stockings with lace around the top.”

  She chuckles. “Yes, Sir!”

  CHAPTER 54

  MADISON

  Roll on Saturday. The week crawls by. I go shopping and come back with a slim red pencil skirt and stockings with lacy tops. I can't wait to wear them for Luke. Why wear any old skirt when I can wear something that makes me feel good?

  I grab a few groceries so we’ll have something to eat if we end up not going out.

  I hope we don't go out. I really do.

  He turns up at seven. He looks so good, so sexy. Every time I see him, I can't believe he's here for me.

  He kisses me at the door for a long, long time. My insides melt.

  “I missed you,” he says.

  “Even when you were working?”

  “Yes, even then.”

  “So,” he says. “You wore a skirt.”

  “Yes.”

  He grins at me. “Does that mean..?”

  “It means I fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

  I look him in the eye. I can tell he's excited by the thought of what's underneath, lovely though my new red skirt is.

  “I'll just need to take a look and check that out. Do you remember your safe word?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  I expect him to take a little peek, but he doesn't. He leads me into the bedroom and yanks my skirt right up so it's bunched around my waist and I gasp. I am bare. Bare for him.

  “Nice,” he says. “No panties and stockings. I like that. That means you need to be punished. Extra hard. Do you agree?”

  “Yes, that's what it means.”

  “Excellent.”

  I feel vulnerable standing there so exposed in front of him, but I also feel desire running through my veins, and when he says, “Take off your blouse. I want to see more of you,” I can feel myself squirming in pleasure at his words and his commanding tone and I do what he asked.

  “Good.” He sits down on the bed. “Over my knee.”

  I lie over his lap and feel the heat of his hard thighs against my stomach. He runs his hands over my bare bottom. The he pulls my breasts out of the cups of my bra and he runs his hands over them, too.

  “All mine,” he says.

  “All yours.” I mirror his words. I'm all his, to punish, to do whatever he likes until I want him to stop. It feels so good to give myself up to him. I think I've been in chains of my own making for the longest time and now I feel strangely free. Despite him telling me what to do, I feel in control. I can stop this any time I like. I have that power. I don't want him to stop.

  His hand comes down on my behind with a crack. It's a shock. I forgot how much that hurt. He gives me time to get used to the glow left there and then he does it again. And when I don't protest with anything more than a little squeal each time he spanks me, he gets into his stride and so do I. I relax into it. I relish it, the sting there, the heat.

  “You want more?” he asks.

  “Please. Yes, I do.”

  I'm already anticipating the onslaught of sensation, yet not quite believing how much I'm enjoying this. There was just that one time we played like this so long ago, but I never forgot it. Pain leading to pleasure. Immeasurable pleasure.

  He hits me harder now. It feels like he's stopped holding back, as if he no longer expects me to break, as if he knows that’s what I really want now.

  Every five or so swats, he stops and runs his hands over my glowing skin, soothing me, and his finger
s trail between my legs, teasing and building the desire in me.

  “Last six,” he says. “Then I'm going to fuck you. Hard.”

  I relish every last stroke, painful though each one is. He smooths his hand over my burning bottom and teases me once more with his fingers over my soft folds.

  “So wet,” he says, “so ready.”

  And I can't help it. I come right there lying over his lap against his fingers.

  He waits for my peak to subside and then he picks me up from his legs and lays me down on the bed, removing my bra and skirt.

  I think he's going to take me there, hard like he said, and I'm lying there waiting for him, wanting him. I look at him, and he grins, and I recognize the signs. I know he just thought of something he wants more than that.

  “The dining table,” he says. “Bend over it for me. I want you there.”

  “There?”

  “Yes, there. Indulge me”

  I get up. It feels so hot following his requests, his commands. The hard wooden surface of the table is cool and hard under my body, a welcome contrast to the stinging heat of my behind.

  “Wait for me,” he calls from the bedroom. I imagine he's taking off his clothes. And I think of the hard planes of his chest, the muscles of his stomach, his hard buttocks, his thighs.

  “So beautiful lying there,” he says, when he joins me. He runs his hands over my bottom once again and between my legs. The wait is almost unbearable.

  But then he's inside me, his body hard against mine, reigniting the burning sensation against my skin, yet it's good, it's all good. With Luke inside me I could conquer the world. And he's taking me hard, filling me, ramming my sore body and taking me to the edge again and over it. And he doesn't stop.

  I don't tell him to stop, and he doesn't.

  He fucks me through my orgasm as I contract around him. He fucks me on and on over that table, my breasts against the unforgiving surface, my sore buttocks rising up to meet every thrust. He fucks me until he comes with such a loud groan I fear anyone wandering past outside on the sidewalk will hear and guess that a woman is getting the fucking of her life. And they would be right.

  He picks me up and holds me then. I can feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching mine, our breath ragged. And he kisses me like we had just been to hell and back and made it out alive, like there were never enough kisses in the world to make up for what we had to go through to be together here tonight.

  “You're not broken at all,” he says when we finally stop to draw breath. “No one can break you.”

  “Well, only one person. You could break me.”

  “I'll never do that,” he says.

  “No, I don't think you will.”

  “Are you going to marry me now I spanked you? Because you cut me to the quick with your refusal.” Luke smiles at me. I don't think he's really upset. I think he understands why I said no.

  “No,” I say.

  “No?”

  “Not yet. Ask me again in a year.”

  “A year? Why a year?”

  “Because then you'll know what you're getting, whether I'm still okay.”

  “You will always be more than okay, just perfect, no matter what state you're in. But I'll wait if that's what you want. We are going to be so good together, I know you'll say yes then.”

  “I believe you're right,” I say, and I really do believe it.

  EPILOGUE

  MADISON

  I forget about our conversation after a while. A year is a long time. Anything can happen in a year. You can meet a guy on a beach and fall in love. You can lose him and go to college and have all hope of future happiness destroyed in a year.

  I just take everything as it comes. No long-term plans. And I enjoy my life. I feel more at peace than I have for years. I love spending time with Luke, and every day takes me another step away from the past, and I feel better.

  I no longer need my therapist every week, but it's good to know she's there if I ever start feeling like things are slipping back.

  I've come to terms with my upbringing, with the attack, with everything, and I feel a lot more at ease with myself.

  When I see my parents now, I don't feel hurt by them, at least not as much as I used to. I just see them as people, as damaged and imperfect as they are, doing whatever they need to do. I understand now it's not about me. It never was. They would have been the same parents with any child in the same circumstances.

  And I feel safe again. Luke made me sign up for self-defense classes, and they make me feel less vulnerable when I'm on my own. He still keeps Denise the bodyguard around. I like her, but I'm not sure she's strictly necessary. He says we need her because he wouldn't forgive himself if anything happened to me. But it must be boring for her hanging around the art gallery, and when she says she's sorry and quits, I refuse to have anyone else, and Luke acknowledges a bodyguard is probably overkill. That's when he lets it slip that Brad and his friend Charlie are in prison.

  “What? Did they attack someone else?” I feel terrible. I should have reported them all those years ago.

  “No.” He’s grinning. “It was fraud. Insider dealing.”

  I'm pretty sure he had something to do with that. Maybe he set them up for a big fall. But if he did, knowing him, he'll have made sure they'll never find out he was involved and that it can't be traced back to anything he or any of his companies did. I don't ask for details. I don't want to know what Luke had to do with it. But I'm happy they are locked up, and that they didn’t get away with what they did after all.

  Michelle and I are really close these days. Knowing someone else understands what it means to have every bit of control taken away has helped both of us. She's not seeing her art dealer guy any more, but she has someone new who she's really excited about. I hope it works out for her.

  And she's still encouraging me to draw and paint. She gave me a corner of an exhibition last month and I put up five paintings. She's pretty shrewd when it comes to business so I was flattered. It means I'm growing as an artist too. Luke wanted to buy all my work but I said he could choose one painting and that was it. I wanted to know if my paintings would sell on their own merits, and they did. Every one of them.

  Even Dad was impressed. I might have known that selling my paintings would mean more in his world than just painting a great picture or being happy or falling in love. But it's nice that he approves. And of course, he likes it that Luke and I are an item. Sometimes Luke tosses some business his way, and we all get along just fine. I met Cara and his kids and they are just an ordinary family really, nothing to be jealous of, not now I have Luke. In some ways, I feel that Dad deserves happiness. He had to live with my mother for all those years.

  My mother, of course, is still not impressed by anything I do. I get nothing but disparaging remarks from her. I really should listen to Luke and stop going to visit her. Perhaps I will one of these days. For now, I just go around to see her less and less frequently. Sometimes I think she hates it that I'm happy. Especially that I'm happy with Luke, that she was wrong about him. But that is her problem. I feel like recommending my therapist to her, but I don't. She wouldn't like that at all. Besides, I like my therapist. I'm sure she doesn't need the client from hell.

  ***

  Though I forget my conversation with Luke from all those months ago about getting married, I think Luke put it in his calendar or something because a year to the day, we're in Paris. I'm so excited to see all the places I've only ever seen in the movies and on TV.

  They say Paris is a city for lovers, and Luke seems intent on making sure it lives up to its name. I’ve never felt so loved or so in love.

  That day, I’m leaning against the railing on our hotel balcony, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s something I like to do every day when we return to our room after sightseeing for the day, because the view is so spectacular. We’re in Paris!

  “It's time,” he says, coming up behind me, and kissing the back of my neck. He knows tha
t makes me melt.

  “It's time?” I know it's too early for dinner. Kissing me like that, it seems he has something other than food on his mind. And I turn to face him, smiling.

  “It's time I asked you to marry me again.”

  And then I remember, my heart pounding. “It's a year since you asked me?”

  “Yes, the year is up today. Will you marry me, Madison?” And his eyes look at me so intensely, so full of love, yet there's a question there as if he fears I'll put him off again.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I say and throw my arms round him.

  I've never been more certain of anything.

  *****

  About the Authors

  Alana Hart

  Alana Hart is an American romance writer who decided that writing with friends is better than writing alone. Hartfelt Books brings together a huge group of sweet and steamy romance authors, collaborating on a new line of books that will have your heart pounding.

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  Caia Fox

  Caia Fox loves to create sexy stories that make you glad to be alive. Hot sex, emotional ups and downs and happy endings abound, and no one gets hurt in the end unless they beg to be punished