Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 (101 page)

Of course, she should have known. Or maybe she did know, and the truth of it was something she wasn’t quite ready to let out into the light of day. Why had she agreed to this? Was it because she’d always wondered what went on behind closed doors between Sharon and Tom? Or was it something much more?

“Get a hold of yourself,” she muttered, blowing on her coffee. She wished it was at least leaded.

Sharon breezed back into the kitchen, two points of color high in her cheeks, her blue eyes bright. She pulled up one of the high padded leather chairs, seating herself at the other end of the pale wood of the butcher’s block dominating the center of the kitchen.

“Did they approve?”

Sharon nodded. “Thankfully. I know how they are — they get to talking and it’s as if we’re not even there anymore. You know?”

“I have a hard time believing Tom would
ever
know you weren’t there.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Sharon had the courtesy to blush. “I’ll bet Keihl can’t keep his hands off of you. You look great! I can’t believe your hair.”

Kirsten couldn’t believe it either. She’d read about it, heard the stories from other women about this radiant head of hair pregnant women developed, but like a lot of what she’d heard, she chocked it up to mostly sentimentality and simple exaggeration.

But Sharon was right about one thing — Keihl couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Especially her hair.

Kirsten twirled a strand of it, looking over at Sharon. “I don’t even do anything different to it. Shampoo, conditioner, that’s it.”

Sharon slid from her stool, sipping from her drink. She reached out. “Can I? I’ve gotta feel it.”

“Have at it.” Kristen shrugged, leaning her head to the side so that Sharon’s fingers could feel the weight of her hair, rub a lock between her fingers. “I’m used to it by now. I think Keihl’s getting obsessed with it more every day though.”

During the past couple of weeks the changes in her hair seemed to really come on strong. The once flat black color had turned almost inky, seeming to absorb light, yet shine with a brilliance that she’d never seen before. It was smoother, healthier, thicker — though she still didn’t see how that was possible.

Hormones did have a few pleasant side effects after all.

Yes, like the one throbbing between your thighs. Did you forget that one, Kirsten?

How could she? Keihl may have begun to obsess about Kirsten’s hair, but her own obsession — with orgasms — was still in full swing. It was all she could do to make it through the day sometimes at work without thinking about it. She had to consciously steer her mind to other subjects when her lust reared its alluring, powerful head, making her feel deliciously — and dangerously — out of control, wanton, even slutty. How many times had she walked by that young stud they’d just hired out of B school for one of the junior account rep positions? She thanked God every time he left the office, because it was one less sight to stir up a lust that seemed to be on a constant simmer, always threatening to boil over at even the sight of a tight male ass, the bulge of biceps, a lean, powerful chest.

Apparently, pregnant horn-dog mode wasn’t a passing phase, at least not for Kirsten. Had the books said it would be quite this bad? No. No way
in hell
.

Sharon hopped back onto her seat, her gleaming nails drumming on the wood of the block. “Beautiful. Makes me remember my last. Tom… he was a lot like Keihl, actually, now that I think of it.”

“Oh?”

Kirsten knew this subject was liable to go down dangerous lust-provoking roads, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Do you brush it?”

Kirsten nodded. “It’s thicker now, but for some reason it doesn’t tangle as much. How is that even possible? If the cosmetic companies could bottle up and sell whatever hormone does this, I think they’d rule the planet.”

Sharon laughed, using a long finger to stir the ice in her glass. “Tom… he bought a hairbrush for me when I was pregnant with Connor. One of those big wide ones, with the varnished wood handle? I loved it.”

“I need to get one of those.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Kirsten.” Sharon fixed her with a glinting gaze. “He brushed my hair with that thing — then he spanked me with it.”

“You — what?”

“Oh sure, hairbrushes are … quite effective. I had
no
idea until that first time he ordered me over the bed. I learned quickly.”

“Why did he? I mean, what was the reason?”

“Said he wanted to try it out. He’s never needed any other reason.” Sharon winced dramatically. “It was even better than he’d hoped.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t
need
a reason?”

Kirsten wasn’t even sure why she’d asked the question. But hearing Sharon say it — it was almost word for word what Keihl had once told her.

No reason required.

Was she looking to understand why Tom — and Keihl — would just decide to spank their wives without “a reason? Shouldn’t the very idea have pissed her off?

It didn’t though, and the truth of it just confused her all the more.

Jesus, Kirsten. Is this who you are now?

“He’s never needed one.” Sharon tilted her head, locking gazes with her. “From the very beginning. He told me he wanted to start as he intended to continue.”

Kirsten swallowed hard, trying to ignore the insistent throb of her clit at the imagery Sharon’s words evoked.

Hadn’t that been what Kirsten had always fantasized about? A man who just…
did
? Took? He’d give her no choice, issue her orders — and she’d obey them. What did that say about her? She couldn’t remember the exact form of those early fantasies — they were more impressions, feelings, rather than concrete, definable visions — but it didn’t make those fantasies any less vital, any less primal.

The problem though then — as now — was that no matter how they spoke to her on an elemental, primitive level, they just weren’t compatible with real life. She’d often thought of those fantasies, wondering if she could somehow live them out — and more importantly, wondering if she
should
.

“How’s the baby? And how are you?”

Courage, Kirsten. You came here. Just say it.

“That’s actually part of why I agreed to come.”

Sharon’s eyes went wide. “Oh no. Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Sorry.” Kirsten held up a hand, pausing to try to swallow some saliva back into her mouth. “I — I need some advice, actually.”

“From me?” Sharon beamed. “I’ll try.”

“My OB, I um, I have some questions about”—heat flamed across Kirsten’s cheeks, but she plowed on—”what Keihl and I, have been… doing.”

“Oh you mean The Game?”

Kirsten covered her face with a hand. “I don’t know why this is so hard. I mean, I know — I know that you’re okay with, well, everything. It’s just… I’m not used to talking about this shit. Except with my husband.”

“We don’t have to talk about it then, if it makes you uncomfortable.” Sharon moved to the stool immediately to Kirsten’s right, laying a palm on her shoulder. “I get it. Believe it or not, I was right there. At the beginning, anyway. But can I tell you something? It might help to know.”

“Please — anything to distract from my idiocy.”

“You’re not being an idiot, dear. This is very normal. Believe me.”

“Thanks.”

It did help, at least a little, to just broach the subject, get it out in the open. What was so odd though was that they’d she and Sharon had talked about this before — but now that all four of them knew what was going on, Kirsten had to fight this insane urge to curl up into a ball, to cover her face with her hands and hide. It made no sense. Maybe it was just the pregnancy? The protective instinct seemed to be stronger by the day, rising within her, gaining strength, making its presence felt in more and more tangible ways. It was paradoxical of course; for every new step she took deeper into her submission to Keihl — for that’s what this was — it seemed to feed that same protective instinct within her.

Mama Bear.

That really was it, wasn’t it? Protecting this wonderful child growing inside her. It wasn’t as if she feared her husband would hurt the child — it was plain he’d die for the child, already. Could she really pinpoint the cause of this protectiveness though? Maybe it didn’t really have a specific cause, and was instead yet another of her body’s preparations for giving birth to, and caring for, another human being? She caressed her belly, in her mind, cooing at her child, already anxious to meet her, to get that first glimpse of those pale blue eyes.

Sharon continued. “Once you realize that it’s
okay
to talk about these things. The world’s not going to end. Nobody’s going to call you a slut.”

“Keihl might — but only if he’s… Jesus, forget I said that.”

“Being able to talk about this?” Sharon’s slim fingers covered her smile. “With someone who understands? Who
gets
it? It’s huge. And once you do it, once you’re past all that awkward early stages shit… it makes things so much better. You start to see everything in a new light. New possibilities open up. And you’ll be surprised at the truths you discover about yourself.”

“Thought about this much?” Kirsten looked down, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound snarky. I just…”

“It’s cool,” Sharon said, crunching a chunk of ice between white teeth. “I know what it’s like. We all start somewhere, and for some of us — I’m not saying that’s the case with you — it’s almost like we have to deprogram ourselves, unlearn what we’ve have drilled into our skulls all of our lives. How it’s only right to live
this
way, but deviant or wrong to live another.”

“That’s it! I’ve felt that
exact
thing. Like I’ve somehow, I don’t know, betrayed something. Or someone.”

Sharon’s eyes narrowed. “The only person you could betray is yourself — by not being who you really are.”

“Lucky me. Born a kinky slut — and didn’t realize it until thirty years of her life had passed her by.”

“Better late than never. Some women — maybe a LOT of women — never get that far. They just… turn it off. Give up that part of themselves. The very thought of it makes me ache for them. But it’s the truth.” Sharon sighed. “I’m just lucky to have found a man who understood, who was open enough to let me figure it out. In my own way. And you are too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your husband. He’s not like most men, trust me on this.” Sharon looked away a moment, the muffled sound of deep male laughter erupting from the living room on the other side of the door. “He’s
true
. To you.”

“A lot of men are true to their wives.”

“Yes, they are — despite what we’re all led to believe.” She gazed at Kirsten again, her blue eyes bright. “But where he’s different, is that he accepts — without being threatened. He loves you — that’s plain as fucking day. Pardon my French. And he wants what you want — only maybe he doesn’t quite realize how
much
you want yet.”

Kirsten sat back in her chair, her jaw dropping. “How did… how do you… ?”

“I
know
. Those of us who’re this way? We just know.” Sharon leaned close. “And here’s a secret, between you and me. When Keihl learns just how far you want to go with this? He won’t run. He’ll take your hand. And when he does, you’d better be ready for the male animal. Because the predator will come out.”

“
Predator
?”

Sharon nodded, one eyebrow arched. “Does that scare you? It shouldn’t — at least not in the
bad
way. That’s what he’ll be though, and you’ll not only accept it, you’ll
crave
it. You’ll have given him the ability, the safe place, to let that part of himself out.” A sly smile curved the pale gloss of her lips. “You can guess who his prey will be, can’t you?”

Yes.

Kirsten’s panties were already soaked — and nothing had even happened yet. Was something supposed to happen tonight?

“I — there’s something else.” Kirsten slid a palm up and down the curve of her belly. “I’m… afraid to ask.”

Sharon’s eyes caught the play of Kirsten’s hand. “If you aren’t comfortable asking your OB, then you need to find a new one. One who understands kink, who gets it.”

“Yes, exactly. But
how
? They don’t exactly have a ‘Whips and Chains Obstetrics’ coming up at the top of a Google search do they?”

Sharon giggled, then tipped back the remains of her margarita, her slim throat working. “No, they don’t.”

“Do you… know anyone?”

For a moment, those blue eyes regarded her coolly, as if the woman weighed what to say next. “I do know someone. My OB is definitely kink friendly.”

“She is?”

The flood of relief Kirsten felt had her hands shaking. She curved both palms over her belly, steadying them, not for the first time, drawing strength and comfort from the life within her.