Reconstructing Meredith (5 page)

“You okay, babe?” I whispered through clenched teeth.

She nodded. “He’d tell me this was what I existed for. This was all I was good for.” Her voice cracked as she added, barely whispering, “He’d tell me how much of a whore I was.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose. The other Doms probably thought it was just part of the scene, part of her role as a slave. It wasn’t unusual for us to call our subs dirty whores, filthy sluts, things like that, but only when they’d made it clear they were not only okay with it, they were aroused by it. Humiliation and degradation were part of some Doms’ bags of tricks because some subs and slaves loved it. An emotionally intact Meredith would have. She would have loved listening to a Dom growl in her ear that she was a filthy whore while he fucked her or flogged her, but Rich had taken that away from her. He’d broken her down, beaten her into nothing, and used something that could be such a turn-on as a way to shatter her.

Leslie cleared her throat and shifted in her chair. “I must say, I’m very sorry to hear this. He had no right to do this to you, and you’ve got a long road of recovery ahead of you.”

“I know,” Meredith said. “That’s why I’m here.”

Leslie smiled. “You’ve come to the right place.” She shuffled some notes around. “Now, in spite of all of this, you still have an interest in kink?”

“Yes.” Meredith took a deep breath. “The thing is, he also did things I was already curious about and wanted to try, but he made them traumatic. I wanted to try a threesome. I wanted to try bondage, flogging, anal. But not like that. And I want to separate what he did from those things.”

“So, you still want to try all of those things, but on your terms and in a safe environment?” Leslie gestured at me. “With Scott?”

“Yes,” Meredith whispered.

I gulped.
No pressure, Scott
.

Leslie gestured at the two of us. “Have the two of you been intimate at this point?”

“Once.” Meredith glanced at me. “The other night, when I got back in touch with him.” She paused. “We dated several years ago, though, so this is… nothing new.”

“Oh, I see. Was kink part of your sex life back then?”

“No,” I said.

“Scott was into it then,” Meredith said. “But I wasn’t sure about it. I wasn’t ready, I guess.”

“Was your ex-husband your first Dom?”

Meredith nodded.

The subtle twist of Leslie’s lips told me she had the same reaction I’d had the other night. A monster like Rich introducing someone to kink was like a rapist introducing a virgin to making love.

“How did you and your ex get involved with kink?” she asked through her teeth. I imagined she usually kept her distaste hidden behind a mask of professionalism, but evidently even she had her limits.

Meredith swallowed. “We started dating, and I guess he saw the sub in me. We’d slept together right from the start, and everything was fine. But then one night he told me things were going to be different.” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “He took me into his basement. The dungeon, he called it.”

I flinched. I had such a place in my own house. Something told me we used them for very, very different purposes.

“He locked me in it, told me this was my home now.” Meredith shuddered. “It was just handcuffs and a flogger at first, and it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know him well enough for something like this, and I certainly didn’t consent to it.”

“Did you use your safe word?” Leslie glanced at me, probably as certain as I was what the answer would be.

“There
wasn’t
a safe word,” Meredith whispered.

Rich, so help me God
…

She sighed. “After a while, I stopped protesting. The less I protested, the less he punished me, and I convinced myself he was right. That I really did want it, that I really liked it.” She shivered. “And on some level, I did. I mean, I didn’t like what… it wasn’t…” She released a sharp breath. “Once in a while, something felt good. Or it might have turned me on if I wasn’t so damned scared, or in pain, or anything like that. But, I feel like I’m saying I enjoyed what he did, and I didn’t. It’s just that sometimes—”

“I understand,” Leslie said. “Some women have been known to have orgasms even while being forcibly raped. That doesn’t mean they enjoyed it.”

“Exactly.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with taking something he did to you and making it your own,” Leslie said. “With sufficient time and healing, along with understanding, patient partners, rape survivors can still enjoy healthy sex lives. And that’s exactly what you are, Meredith. You’re a rape survivor. I can see, from talking to you now and our previous conversation on the telephone, that you’re a strong woman, you’ve come to terms with a great deal of what you’ve been through, and you can, with time, move past this.”

A slight smile tugged at Meredith’s lips, and thank God, it made it to her eyes. “Thank you.”

Leslie looked at her notes, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow. Then she looked at us. “Normally, I’d be wary of endorsing what you’ve asked Scott to do after everything that’s happened, at least until we’ve spent more time discussing your past.” She took her glasses off and set them on top of the notes. “That said, I believe you’ve come a long way in terms of healing from what your ex-husband did to you. You’re in good hands with Scott, and with all of that in mind, I agree that you’re ready to start reclaiming your sexuality on your terms.”

Meredith exhaled hard. She said nothing for a long moment, then finally looked at Leslie. “Thank you. You just don’t realize how long I’ve been wanting to hear that. My last few therapists, they…”

“They didn’t agree?”

Meredith shook her head. “Like I told Scott, they all wanted me to focus on getting over my ‘marriage’ and explore ‘normal’ sexual relationships.”

Leslie released a sharp breath. “Yes, unfortunately the prevailing view of some in my profession is that kink is a pathology, not a positive, healthy thing.” She sighed. “There are still those who would view kink as the root of what your ex-husband did to you, not the weapon he used. As far as I’m concerned, that would be like telling you not to speak after you’ve been verbally abused. I see no reason to tell you that you can’t or shouldn’t have a healthy, fulfilling sex life involving kink just because someone chose to abuse you with it.”

The sigh of relief this time was mine. If ever I’d known someone who should’ve been put up for sainthood, it was Dr. Leslie Reid.

“My recommendation,” she went on, “would be for Scott to continue attending sessions with you. Not every session, but perhaps every other. Would you be comfortable with that?”

“Of course.”

Leslie looked at me. “And you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, sure. Whatever I can do to help.”

“I would suggest that the two of you move very, very slowly,” she said. “We can discuss your progress during your sessions, but I strongly recommend the two of you discuss it often on your own.” She paused. “I also need to know if I have your permission to discuss this arrangement with Scott. Not what you and I talk about in our private sessions, but for the sake of his emotional wellbeing through this, I do think it would be necessary for me to be able to speak candidly about it with him if he needs to come see me on his own.”

Cool water rushed through my veins. Something about her acknowledgment that I had an emotional stake in this, that I wasn’t just an unfeeling bystander, unnerved me. As if I’d somehow believed I could make it through this unscathed.

Right. And that explains why I’ve been eyeballing that wastebasket for the last half hour
.

“Do you have any objections to me speaking to Scott about this?” Leslie asked.

“No, none at all.”

“Good. I’ll have a form for you to sign when we’re through today, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.” To me, she said, “This is going to have an emotional impact on you, Scott. I urge you to call me or come in and see me if you need to. Clear?”

“Yeah,” I said in spite of my dry mouth.

“Excellent. Now, for the time being, I’d like the two of you to focus on simply getting reacquainted with each other and getting Meredith reacquainted with physical intimacy. Leave the kink out of it for now. Even basic dominance and submission. If something comes naturally, and you’re both comfortable with it, let it, but don’t push it yet. There needs to be a firm foundation of trust and intimacy before the two of you start taking this to the next level.”

“We do trust each other,” Meredith said.

“I know. But you’re going to be asking a lot of each other in the coming weeks and months. I want you to spend some time strengthening that trust and deepening that intimacy.”

We both nodded.

“Let me ask you this, Meredith,” Leslie said. “You mentioned earlier that your ex-husband made oral sex a traumatic experience, am I correct?”

Meredith nodded.

“Is it something you enjoyed before him?”

“Yes,” Meredith whispered. “Very much so.”

Did she ever. Few women gave blowjobs with the enthusiasm she did, and there was a time when she’d have been more than content to let me go down on her until my tongue went numb. I barely kept myself from shivering.

Leslie looked at her notes, then at Meredith. “Is oral sex something you’d be comfortable re-exploring with Scott this early on?”

Meredith hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, I think I could handle it.” She glanced at me. “If we, you know, take it slowly.”

“Of course.” I squeezed her hand gently. She returned it, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“That will give you a starting point, then,” Leslie said. “And I’d recommend using it as an opportunity to introduce Meredith to the practice of safe words.”

“I can do that,” I said.

Leslie glanced at the clock on the wall. “I think that’s enough for one session.”

Another relieved sigh escaped my lips. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take today, and thank God, it was over.

Before we left, we made appointments for future visits. One with Meredith alone, one with both of us. She signed a form allowing Leslie and me to discuss limited details of the situation. Then we headed out of her office and back to the waiting room full of outdated magazines and semi-comfortable chairs.

On the way, Meredith stopped. “I’m going to use the restroom before we go.”

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll meet you in the waiting room.”

As Meredith walked toward the restroom, Leslie put her hand on my arm. Speaking in a hushed voice, she said, “Be very careful with her, Scott.”

I nodded. “I know, I will.”

“And I’m completely serious about seeing me one-on-one if you need to. You’re strong, and you’re stubborn, but this
will
take its toll on you.”

I tried not to shudder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Her eyes darted down the hall where Meredith had gone. Then she looked at me again. “I know you’ve dealt with some damaged subs before, but she’s going to need a lot of time and patience. Expect plenty of speedbumps and setbacks, and try not to get discouraged.”

Gulping, I glanced down the empty hall. “Do you think I can do this?”

“More than any other Dom I know, yes.” She looked at me over her glasses. “I have the utmost faith in you, but it’s going to be a long, long road.”

I nodded again.

“And with any luck,” she added, her voice almost a growl, “prison gives that son of a bitch gets what he deserves in this life, and he rots in the deepest, darkest part of hell in the next.”

I laughed humorlessly. “My sentiments exactly, Les.”

With Meredith against me between my sheets, lost in a deep kiss without a stitch of clothing to separate us, I could almost forget all the reasons she’d come back into my life. Except for a few fleeting moments here and there, we were the lovers we’d been back then. She molded her body to mine. We held each other close, held each other tight, and I ached to be inside her just as I always had years ago.

But all it took to bring reality screaming back to the surface was the occasional tense catch of her breath. Or when she’d draw away from my touch, if only for a second. Or the simple act of running a hand down her back, letting my fingertips drift over the scars that scored her skin. I kept my frustration beneath the surface, but it was there. My God, was it ever there. The artist who’d tattooed my back and sides hadn’t marked me as indelibly as Rich had marked Meredith.

She broke the kiss and looked at me, searching my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?”

“You tensed up.”

So much for keeping it under the surface. I smiled and brushed the pad of my thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m fine.” I kissed her again, and she must have taken my word for it because she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me with her as she rolled on to her back.

Her kiss held most of my attention, but the deliberate, if uncertain, path of warm fingertips drifting down my back didn’t escape my notice. Her hand paused on my lower back, its light contact tentative, then more assertive, then barely-there, barely-sure again. Her fingers broke and released contact in an uneven dance, a Morse code of
I want to, but I’m not sure, but I want to
.

When her palm lifted all the way off my skin, my heart sank, certain she’d second-guessed herself, but she didn’t draw it back up to the safety of arms and shoulders. Instead, her fingertips trailed across my lower back, then along my side.

Without thinking, only doing, I lifted my hips so her hand could slide between us. We both exhaled as she wrapped her fingers around my cock. Just as it had done on my back, her hand silently betrayed all the uncertainty she tried to mask with her kiss. She couldn’t decide between a loose grasp or a tight one, a fast pace or a slow one, and if the sharpness of her breath was any indication, it wasn’t a game. She wasn’t trying to wind me up, she was trying to work up the nerve to continue what she’d already begun.

Resting my weight on one arm, I reached between us and closed my hand over hers. She let me guide her into just the right rhythm, and when my breath caught, when I shuddered, she took over, squeezing a little harder and moving a little faster.

That’s right. That’s the woman I know. Oh, fucking hell
…

“God, yes, just like that,” I breathed.

“Like that?”

Closing my eyes, I moaned something that hopefully came across as a “yes.”

Our lips were nearly touching, and I felt more than heard her murmur, “Get on your back.”

Though I loved what she was doing, hell if I was going to argue with that request. Together we rolled over, and I shivered when she pinned my arms to the bed. She kissed me hard, her tongue demanding access to my mouth. I opened and closed my fists, but she kept me pinned down. We both knew I could have overpowered her and freed my arms if I’d wanted to, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t.

After a moment, she pushed herself up and looked down at me, wetting her lips. “I want—” She stopped abruptly.

“Tell me,” I whispered.

She bit her lip, wavering between bold and tentative. Then she took a breath, looked me in the eye, and blurted out, “I want to suck your cock.” As soon as the words were out, she looked away and her cheeks colored.

“Is that really what you want?” I asked.

Still avoiding my eyes, she nodded.

“Look at me, Meredith,” I said softly.

With much effort, she did, concerned creases forming between her eyebrows. I wondered what she thought I would do or say. If she was worried because she’d expressed her own desire to do something, or if she was just embarrassed at having said it.
What’s going on in that haunted mind of yours, baby
?

I pulled one arm free and reached for her face. I half-expected her to flinch away from my touch, but when she didn’t, I gently drew her down to me.

“If that’s what you want,” I said, my lips brushing hers, “I’m not going to stop you.”

To my great relief, she laughed. So did I, and the tension melted away.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose I’ve never known you to turn down a blowjob.”

I grinned. “Did you think I’d start now?”

“Absolutely not.” She sat up. Then she swallowed hard. “This may sound weird, but while I’m…” Her gaze darted toward my cock, then met my eyes again. “Would you mind keeping your hands up here? Like, on the headboard?”

I glanced up at the headboard slats, then looked at her with raised eyebrows. “If that’s what you want, yeah, I can do that.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Do I have to explain it?”

I swallowed. I could read between the lines well enough, and asking me to keep my hands on the headboard wasn’t exactly the strangest thing anyone had ever asked me to do.

I smiled and reached up to grab on to the slats. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

She bit her lip, sending an uncertain look toward my hands. “You won’t let go?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” Another glance at my hands.

“Would you be more comfortable if I let you cuff me to the bed?”

She laughed quietly. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged. “Whatever makes you comfortable, babe.”

Her laughter faded. “I don’t think cuffs will be necessary.”

“You trust me, then?”

She looked me in the eye. “Yes, I do.” She kissed me, trailing her fingertips along the underside of my erection.

I shivered. “If you’re going to touch me like that, I am
all
yours.”

Something flickered across her expression, something there and gone too quickly for me to be sure it was ever there at all. Before I could ask, she shot me a devilish grin, kissed me quickly, then moved down by my hips. No long trail of kisses until she got to my cock, she was going straight for it.

Oh, hell yes
. I closed my eyes. Anticipation made breathing damn near impossible as I waited for that first delicious contact with her mouth.

Still stroking me slowly, she said, “There’s one more thing I need to ask first.”

You want me to think while you’re touching me like that
? I looked down at her, licking my dry lips. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t move. At all.”

Another puzzling request, but one I wouldn’t ask her to explain this minute, not while she had the boldness to make this move at all. And if her mouth was still as talented as it had been a lifetime ago, her request would be one tall order.

“Scott?”

I nodded. “I won’t move. I promise.”

She cast one last wary glance at my hands. Evidently certain they were bound, if only by my word and not a pair of cuffs, she came up and kissed me, then bent to kiss my neck.

Now she started the path I thought she’d skipped earlier. She kissed her way down, teasing every inch of my chest, my abs, my sides with the feather light touch of her lips. Whether she was doing it to turn me on or to work up her own nerve, the effect was the same. I struggled to stay still, my abs contracting and my back trying to arch every time her breath or lips brushed my skin.

Stay still. Stay still. Stay— oh God
…

A moan escaped my lips as hers slid down my cock. I closed my eyes and held on to the slats, and I barely breathed, both because I didn’t want to move and because I just… couldn’t. Not when she squeezed just right with her lips, or fluttered her tongue all along the shaft each time she came up. Even when uncertainty crept in and made her hesitate, her mouth was fucking amazing.

She lowered her head slowly, taking my cock a little deeper. The next time, she came down a little farther, paused for a moment, then went a fraction of an inch more before she rose again.

She was challenging her gag reflex. That had to be it. That was why she didn’t want me to move. Whatever the case, she was more than welcome to use me for as long as it took to get herself comfortable, because, Jesus Christ, that woman knew how to suck cock.

My knuckles must have been completely white by then, and when she made slow, intoxicating circles with her tongue, my eyes watered. What I wouldn’t have given to have run my fingers through her hair just then, and more than once, I almost forgot myself and reached for her.
No, no
, I told myself through the delirium her mouth sent me into.
Don’t let go. Don’t move. Don’t. Fucking. Move
.

Oblivion was more and more difficult to ignore, though, and the electricity surging up my spine with every sweep of her tongue wasn’t going to let me hold still much longer.

When I spoke, my voice was little more than a breathless moan. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me come.”

She backed off slowly, then looked up at me and grinned. “We can’t have that yet, can we?”

“Tease.” I groaned, not sure if I was frustrated that she’d let me come back to earth, or even more turned on because this wasn’t over yet.

“I’m not a tease.” She came back up to kiss me. “If I was a tease, I’d get on top of you so you were that close to my pussy, but still couldn’t fuck me.”

“And I wouldn’t put that past you at all,” I growled as she got on top. I put my hands on her sides, exhaling as she straddled me and pressed her pussy against my cock. I couldn’t wait to be her Dom, but I’d have been lying if I’d said I didn’t enjoy this. Every little bit of boldness and brazenness drew her out of her shell, loosened the past’s grip on her, and the Dom in me wasn’t going to argue.

“See?” She grinned down at me. “
This
is what a tease does.”

“Which is why I called you a tease.” I laughed. “This, and because I really, really liked what you were doing with your mouth.”

“Why thank you.”

I teased her nipple with my thumb and forefinger. “Now the question is, do you want me to return the favor?”

She tensed. Dropping her gaze, she swallowed hard. “Scott, I don’t know if—”

“If you don’t want me to, it’s okay,” I whispered. “But if you do, you know I’m perfectly willing.”

A quiet laugh relieved some of the tension in her posture. “You always have liked that, haven’t you?”

“Damn right I do.” I drew a light circle around her nipple with my fingertips. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word.”

She bit her lip, avoiding my eyes.

“Do you trust me?” I whispered.

“Yes, yes, of course,” she said. “It’s just… it’s been so long since…”

“Since someone’s gone down on you with your pleasure in mind?”

Her cheeks colored a little, and she nodded.

I drew her down to me and teased her lips apart with my tongue. When I broke the kiss, I whispered, “You know the only thing I have in mind is your pleasure, right?”

Another slow nod. She looked me in the eye, and three grooves appeared on her forehead as she said, “I don’t know if I can… if I can come that way, though.”

“You came the other night just by being fucked.”

“I know, but this… The thing is, I’ve been…” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been punished for coming this way before.”

“I know you have. And let me reassure you,” I whispered against her lips, “the only thing that’ll happen if you come tonight is I’ll be that much harder…” I dragged my lower lip across hers. “I’ll want you that much more…” I kissed her softly. “…and I’ll just have fuck you until you come
again
.” I didn’t give her a chance to respond before I kissed her full-on, but the shudder that rippled through her told me she’d gotten the message.

Once she’d relaxed a little, I looked into her eyes again. “Do you know how safe words work?”

“Not from personal experience, but yes, I know how they work.”

I released a breath through clenched teeth. “Have I mentioned lately that I think there’s a special place in hell for your ex?”

She laughed dryly. “You’ve mentioned it, yes.”

“Good.” I touched her face and kissed her lightly. “I use two safe words with all of my subs. Say the word ‘red,’ everything stops. Immediately, no questions asked. ‘Yellow,’ and I’ll back off with whatever I’m doing. Clear?”

She nodded.

“You okay with going on?”

Another nod. I eased her on to her back. Her body stiffened again, then relaxed against the bed. I trailed light kisses down her neck, pausing at her collarbone, then the hollow of her throat, before continuing down her chest. She ran her fingers through my hair, a hint of a tremor letting me know the apprehension wasn’t yet gone.

I closed my lips around her nipple and teased it with the same circles, flutters, and arcs I intended to use on her clit. I moved to her other nipple and did the same. She moaned, squirming beneath me, and I couldn’t decide if there was more arousal or uncertainty in her voice.