A is for… (12 page)
Anna had helped him to set up a small engineering firm. Within six months he’d designed a new missile mount for military helicopters. Uneven weight distribution had caused the crash that had nearly killed him, and his design corrected that error. She’d represented him in the patent filing and subsequent multimillion dollar sale of the design. As a result of bringing him on, she was made a junior partner in her law firm, and Jensen was owner and chief designer of an ever-growing mechanical engineering company that specialized in military equipment.
A year ago she’d arrived for one of her monthly visits to Las Palmas where Master Leo had introduced her to their newest member—a handsome, young millionaire who went by the title of Master Jensen.
Anna had thrown herself into his arms and cried. He’d done this for her, she knew that. Later, Leo had told her that Jensen had come to him looking for advice and training. He’d spent six months secretly exploring the world of BDSM before officially joining Las Palmas. That first weekend, she’d been eager to show off for Jensen, and volunteer to sub for a Master who was known for putting on lovely bondage displays.
Jensen had lasted ten minutes before he’d jumped on the stage, demanded that the other Master release her, and then hauled Anna away to fuck her senseless.
They’d spent forty-eight hours locked in a room, exercising years of pent up desire. When they’d left after that first weekend, Anna had told Jensen that outside of Las Palmas she wasn’t sub Anna. She wanted to keep that part of her life separate. He’d understood, and that night he’d taken her home and dropped her off at her front door like a proper gentleman.
The night after that, Anna had shown up at his condo in nothing but a trench coat. Much to their delight, they discovered they could still set the bed on fire outside the D/s relationship.
Two weeks later they’d moved in together, and a month after that Jensen had proposed.
“Baby, you okay?” His question shook her from her trip down memory lane.
“Yeah, just thinking. It’s been a crazy few years.”
He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I would be lost without you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I love you. I hate how much time we lost.”
“Don’t think about it. It all happened for a reason. We might never have found Las Palmas if things had been different.”
“Is kinky sex really worth almost dying?”
Jensen snorted. “Uh, yeah.”
Anna laughed. She waited at the passenger door for him to open it, then held his arm as she gingerly lowered herself onto the seat.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous.” He kissed her temple as she winced.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I’m not.”
“Jerk.”
“Nympho.”
Jensen slid behind the wheel. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper. Rubbing it on the back of his hand, he then cupped her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. The smell of sandalwood flooded the car. Anna gasped as her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched.
“You bastard,” she breathed. Taking the slip of paper, she sniffed it. The scent of sandalwood made her head spin.
“Damn that’s hot.” He rubbed the back of his hand over her breast. “Why didn’t we do that before?”
“Drive, damn it.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The engine purred to life and Jensen maneuvered the car out of the parking lot and down the long driveway.
“And the joke’s on you. We’re eating Chinese food for Thanksgiving.” Anna rolled down the window to clear out the scent before she went crazy.
“Huh?”
“Sage. The other scent you used was sage. It’s one of the main herbs in stuffing. Since I’m never getting near sage again, we will be eating Chinese food, or Thai food, for Thanksgiving.”
“Damn it, I love stuffing.”
“You really have no one to blame but yourself.”
“I guess I’ll just have to teach you to love sage again.”
“Remember, we only have two more weekends here before the wedding.”
Jensen’s eyes twitched at the mention of their upcoming wedding. It had been nearly ten months since he’d proposed, assuming they’d get married the next week. Anna was unrepentantly planning a six-figure dream wedding. Theirs was an epic love story—it deserved an epic wedding.
“I will buy you a house in France if you’d just elope with me.”
“Nope. But you’re going to buy me a vacation house in France anyway.”
Jensen shot her a disgruntled look. “Then how about we move up our bonding ceremony?”
Anna pretended to consider it. “Wedding first.”
“Damn it, woman. Do you realize what I would have done if they’d tried to give you to someone else this weekend?” The primal violence in his voice made her shiver. After all they’d done this weekend, she should have been too exhausted to even think about sex, but when it came to Jensen, it seemed that she could never get enough.
“I was a little concerned,” she admitted. “But I know you enjoyed making me sweat by pretending to be someone else. Besides, if you get lazy with the sex post-marriage, I might have to find a new Dom. Don’t worry I’ll still have vanilla sex with you.”
“It’s cute that you think I’ll ever let anyone else touch you.”
“Maybe I’ll marry you but get bonded to a different Dom. A husband and a lover. I’d get double presents on Valentine’s day.” Anna fluttered her eyelashes.
“Maybe I’ll buy an island and keep you there naked and chained up.”
Anna laced her fingers with his. “Promises, promises,” she said with a smile.
As they sped down into the city, she felt the real world closing in around her. She’d work ten hour days the rest of this week, and meet with her wedding planner and bridesmaids in the evening. Jensen was finalizing the bid for a DOD design contract, so she probably wouldn’t see much of him until Thursday. Despite the fact that their day-to-day lives left little time for emotional or physical intimacy, they’d be alright—the closeness from this weekend would linger, holding them together even when they were apart.
“Back to the real world,” he said as he parked in their garage. He helped her out, then pressed her back against the car. Jensen kissed her slow and deep.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always and forever.”
Anna touched his cheek. “Always and forever.”
Master Leo took the large letter “A” off the board. One letter down, twenty-five to go. His submissive, Gabriela, knelt at his feet. She shifted, the tiny bells that dangled from her nipples jingling. Her breasts were marked by thin stripes from the cane he’d used on them earlier. Watching the people he’d assigned to the letter “B” had inspired him to do some “breast whipping” of his own.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s go see how they’re going to handle ‘branding.’”
Lila Dubois
is a technical writer by day and an erotic romance writer by night. She’s living her own version of a romance novel with her Irish Farm Boy, whom she imported to Los Angeles. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England, Lila speaks five languages, none of them—including English—fluently.
Visit Lila online:
- Website:
www.liladubois.net - Twitter:
@CrzyButCuteLila - Facebook:
www.facebook.com/liladubois - Blog:
International Heat (www.intlheat.com)
and
liladubois.wordpress.com
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