Branded (27 page)

“From the age of twelve or
thirteen, somewhere around there, he was my coach for riding and
eventually eventing. He was my world. Everyday we’d meet up and for
hours we’d talk and do all things horse related. On my sixteenth
birthday, we had sex for the first time. I was an adult and we were
starting a life as a couple, at least to me.”

“Sixteen? We’re talking about a
child. You couldn’t make any decisions at such a young and
undeveloped age.” Despite their relaxed positions, he didn’t keep
the note of anger out of his voice. She knew he wasn’t upset with
her, but with someone else. It was nice for someone to see the law
said one thing and know human nature another.

“The legal age for consent in
England is sixteen. He didn’t break any laws, although I look back
now and know I wasn’t versed enough in life experience to make such
a decision.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and held
her tighter. She wasn’t sure what he was sorry for, but it didn’t
matter. Being in his arms seemed to heal her open
wounds.

“Both my parents were Olympic
riders and it was my goal to be one as well. I figured it was in my
blood and therefore a given. I was going to win the gold and
surpass them, be better than them, and they encouraged me to think
in such terms. Eventually my father retired and worked as an
advisor for the British team. There was never an assumption I was
entitled to any special treatment by the rest of the team or me.
Particularly me, but my skill and numbers put me there.”

While they’d never been a
particularly close family, she hadn’t anticipated what
happened.

“We were at Beijing and I’d made it
into the final round for individual eventers. I was preparing for
the last leg, cross-country, and looked for Max. Usually he would
be at my side, helping me get my horse settled and giving me advice
on the course. Then I found him and a daughter of another advisor.
They were walking with their arms around each other. It was no big
deal until the two became touchy feely and my eyes were opened.
Finally, I realized why he hadn’t been around as much.

“Needless to say, my head wasn’t in
the mindset for intense riding and I was thrown. Of course I got
back on, redid the jump, and made it across the line in goodish
time. I won the bronze, not the gold. There was no goodbye, we’re
finished, let’s move on. As far as I was concerned, we were done
and there was no reason for a confrontation.”

Molly took a deep breath and got to
the part that had hurt more than the breakup.

“I was sad and figured eventually I
could move on, but it wasn’t to be. After all the muck, I left when
my parents told me to stop crying over a man. They figured I should
be crying over my horrific performance at the Olympics. Apparently
I’d shamed them and their standing within the equestrian community.
How could they continue to claim their expertise when their own
daughter, the golden child for the British equestrian team, choked,
failed…you get the idea.”

There, the ugly marks on her past
were out there. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from Jon and tried
hard to not have any expectations, either. Sharing the past with
someone was one thing, wanting them to say something to make it all
better was wrong.

With his chin rested on top of her
head and arms around her tightly, he shared a sigh. There were a
few ways she could take his response. Molly settled on the one she
wanted and hoped it was the same for him. Ultimately she was not
happy with how her parents handled the situation.

“Five years is too long to waste
thinking about when people don’t support you.” The quiet statement
had a good dose of truth to it. In the end, the fact they were her
parents didn’t matter. They didn’t support her as a young woman,
fine, life had continued. She needed to forgive them and move
on.

“You’re right. I should call them
and get on with my life. I’m almost twenty-six years old, there’s a
lot more to come my way.” She moved her head to rest on his bicep
and looked directly at him, locking her eyes to his. “Thank you for
listening and not judging.”

“No, I’m sorry, but I did judge. I
judged your coach. What he did disturbs me and my morals as a man.
I’m utterly disgusted with how he used a young woman both
emotionally and physically.” His hands grasped hold of her face and
he held her firmly as he spoke. “I’m pained by what you went
through as a young lady, but I am proud of the woman you have
become. Proud you’ve moved past the ugliness to be here with
me.”

“I’ve only ever had sex with him
and you, and with you it was magical,” she confirmed with a
smile.

“What we had together wasn’t sex,
Molly. Sex is when there’s no feelings involved and I have feelings
for you, lots of them.” What he said wiped the smile off her face
and took her breath away. He cared and she more than cared, which
left the question of whether or not there a future for
them.

“I have feelings for you,” she
confided and leaned up to seal her words with a kiss.

They shared one of the sweetest and
most seductive lip locks. There were no tongues, only what they
were feeling and their lips touching. At first it was soft, gentle,
maybe even loving, then it turned into more. The feelings and
passion were still there as they deepened the kiss. They pressed
their lips more firmly together, her in a bid to push everything
away except him.

Jon pulled back and watched her
closely as he spoke.

“Shall we make feelings
again?”

Molly wanted to laugh at his using
feelings instead of love, except she understood how much weight the
word carried with its use. The seriousness of where they found
themselves seeped in and she was surprised by what it brought to
mind. Her joy over possibly falling in love again brightened her
mood even further.

With a newfound confidence in them
as a couple, she gave him her answer and asked a question of
him.

“Definitely, and will some of it be
with BDSM?”

There, she’d put the activity out
between them. Was he actually involved in that particular world, or
was it a rumor? There’d been no hint of his being kinky when they
were in bed together, and she’d expected something.

“Do you know what BDSM
is?”

“No, well, not specifically, but in
general. It’s tying up a partner and taking them, right?” She
wasn’t sure about the specifics, which fed her curiosity even
further. Actually, what she knew, the handcuffing or tying up and
taking, turned her on. Secretly she hoped it was an interest of his
which they could experiment with together.

“Kind of, but there’s much more to
it. Some say they’re separate predilections. One would be bondage,
then dominance and submission, and another sadism and masochism.
However, others prefer to label it bondage and discipline and
S&M. In general terms, the B is for bondage, D is domination
and the SM is sado-masochism.”

“Oh, sounds confusing.” She was
surprised the simple acronym wasn’t set in stone.

“Only as much as you want it to be,
but I suggest you pick a definition you like and go with it.” Jon
was a relaxed person and she liked that about him.

“What is set in stone when it comes
to the BDSM world?”

“Well, for one thing, whatever
happens is between consenting adults. There is no room for someone
being forced to do something they don’t want to do. Many people use
safe words to call a halt to the action and others, more
lifestylers than anyone else, prefer to rely on the Dom or Domme to
know their subs well enough to stop when they’ve had enough.” He
stretched out further and pulled her closer.

Secured, safe, and cherished all
raced through her with many other emotions in the mix. Mentally, it
was a beautiful place to be, with him at her side. Physically, she
felt frisky as they started talking about BDSM. It was a more
serious conversation and she wasn’t sure why.

“The SM, sado-masochism part, is
all about a person who finds pleasure in giving pain and the other
in receiving. I personally find no interest in either of those
roles.” As he talked in a calm, no-nonsense tone, one of his hands
spread across her belly. The pinky touched her mound. Only touched
and nothing else.

“What about the domination? It
sounds like it would be harsh.”

“Depends on how a person approaches
the scene.”

“Wait, a scene? What do you mean?”
She liked to know every question she asked would be
answered.

“A scene is when the people
involved, all of whom know the parts they’re going to play
beforehand, follow the agreed upon activities to their conclusion.
In other words, they play until everyone comes.”

“Got it, now finish what you were
going to say about domination. Please,” she said the last word with
a big grin. She was demanding, but in a nice way.

“Dominants can be as firm or gentle
as they want to be, it depends on how their submissives react.
Everyone is in it for pleasure and seeks out like minded partners
or, in this case, their opposites.”

“I can’t see someone being nice as
they dominate another person.” She still found nothing intriguing
about BDSM and she was starting to worry if he was interested in
the sexual preference.

“I dominated you earlier when you
opened your blouse for me while I barbequed.” He laughed softly and
reached up to pinch a nipple. Inhaling sharply, she took a second
to remember the conversation and struggled. All the lust his pinch
brought to the surface raced straight down to her pussy and robbed
her brain of thinking cells.

As she breathed unsteadily, she
remembered how he’d asked her to uncover her breasts. Their
conversation at the grill replayed through her mind, she suddenly
gasped. Jon had told her the only reason she needed to unbutton her
blouse was because he’d asked. He had dominated her and she had
most definitely enjoyed it.

“You did,” Molly told him, sounding
surprised. “Does it mean I’m a submissive?”

“You certainly reacted like one.
Did you like unbuttoning your blouse no matter who might walk
outside and see your breasts, simply because I asked?” Jon released
the nipple and softly circled the areole.

“I made my choice when I figured
out I didn’t care about what anyone else might think or see, except
you. I was turned on and wanted your touch.” She said nothing
except what was true for her.

“I’d say you lean towards being a
sub, but it’s only a label. BDSM is only letters with definitions
attached. You do whatever makes you happy, is how I choose to look
at things. Some would call me a Dom and I’m fine if they do, but I
don’t call myself one. My kink preferences are to dominate my
partner, and also to bind them up and pleasure them.

“Basically I’m a guy who enjoys
toys, gadgets, furniture…things to hopefully enhance and take
things to a new level. They are my tools to help make things more
fun. I never blindfold or obscure my partner’s mouth. I want them
to see everything and tell me how they’re enjoying themselves or
not.”

For a second it sounded like he was
interviewing for a job, then she realized in a way he
was.

“Do you want to dominate, bind, and
use your gadgets on me?” She wasn’t sure where the guts to ask the
question had come from, but she was proud of herself for doing
it.

“Yes, but I’m not sure you know
what I’m talking about. I’ve made it sound nice, erotic and tied it
up in a pretty bow, but it isn’t. If I had to say it was something
more than any other, I’d call it lust first and foremost. I’d want
to make you come, and often. There be would no pretty cries, but
all out guttural need voiced as pleas for more.”

The picture he painted stunned her.
His words didn’t dissuade her from wanting to try. If anything, he
encouraged her to want it more.

“I didn’t see any sign of toys in
your bedroom or the guest room. Would you normally go to a club and
find a partner there?”

“There’s been no one I’ve had sex
with or got kinky with since a few weeks before you arrived. From
our first meeting in the diner, I haven’t wanted to spend time with
anyone but you.” His words made her glow brighten further. He
wanted her and she wanted him. Would their getting kinky, as he
called it, ruin things between them? She didn’t want it to, but she
knew this was a part of his life. He wanted it, and she would try
to fit in.

“I’m flattered and thrilled you
want to be with me. I want to be with you, all of you.” Jon shifted
the blanket off them and ran his hand down from where it dallied
with her nipples. It moved over her stomach ultimately to dabble
between her inner thighs. His fingers tickled, but also seduced.
She wanted to part them for him again, only he used his hold on her
knee to lift the leg until it draped over one of his.

Spreading her open, he cupped her
mound and teased her by dipping a finger inside her pussy while his
thumb circled her clit.

For a moment she focused on how his
cock nestled against her backside. Solid, thick, and growing
harder. She wanted to feel him inside her again. Plunging or still,
she flat out wanted him again and again.