Authors: Diana Hunter
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary
“I saw Lauren this morning.”
John tensed but said nothing.
“You two belong together. Sarah and I won’t
get involved any more than this but you need to know Lauren loves you.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t need to.”
John simply nodded, his demeanor still
guarded and stiff. “Thanks, Phillip.”
“We’re here if you need to talk.”
John shook his head. “Lauren’s the one I
need to talk to.”
Phillip smiled in relief. “I’m glad you
understand that. I’ll leave you to it then.” He turned to go out the door.
“Have fun with Sarah tonight.”
The grin Phillip gave him held a certain
wicked mischievousness. “I intend to, old boy. I intend to.”
* * * * *
He didn’t call first, afraid she’d tell him
she never wanted to see him again. Instead, John stood nervously at her door,
taking several deep breaths before he raised his hand to knock.
A door opened behind him and to his left.
Glancing over, he wasn’t really surprised when Mrs. Boorman stood in her
doorway. Putting on his most charming smile, he bowed in her direction.
“Not me you have to be making up to,” she
scolded, her accent showing traces of her middle European background. “She laid
you out good on TV. Had good arguments too.”
“Yes, she did, Mrs. Boorman. I’m hoping
she’ll agree to see me.”
For the first time, he saw the old lady
smile. “She’ll see you. She has any brains, she’ll see you. But you should’a
brought flowers.”
With a sinking heart, John realized she was
right. Corny, but right.
“Is okay. You just have to talk faster.
She’s a good girl and I like her. I like you too. You make pretty babies
together.”
He didn’t know about that but he nodded at
her just the same and turned back to the door. Straightening his shoulders, he
knocked twice. Behind him, the door squeaked closed but he didn’t hear the
snick of it shutting. Mrs. Boorman might give them the illusion of privacy but
she wasn’t about to miss the show.
Lauren opened the door with a bounce and a smile
that froze in place. “I thought you were Beth.”
“I’m not. Would you rather I was?”
She studied him a moment, then answered
honestly. “I’m not sure on that one.”
Lauren didn’t step aside and invite him in
and John realized he was going to have to work for this. Conscious of Mrs.
Boorman’s eyes staring holes into his back, he took her advice and talked
faster.
“Lauren, I said some stupid things and I
want to apologize for them. I was out of line and—”
“No, you weren’t.”
He stopped, confused.
“You said exactly what you needed to say,
just as I did.”
“I hurt you.”
“Yes, you did.”
Damn, she wasn’t making this easy on him.
“Lauren, I’m sorry. I love you and I want to work this out.”
Did he just hear a satisfied sigh behind
him? If only the woman in front of him would be so understanding.
Lauren held the door open a little wider.
“I love you too, John. Come in.”
John walked into the apartment, whirling to
face her when she burst into laughter.
“Oh John, I’m sorry. That was just too
precious not to play out.”
“You did that for her…for Mrs. Boorman!”
She nodded. “Can you forgive me? She needed
it.”
John stood, dumbfounded. “So you’re not mad
at me?”
Lauren sobered and came over to him. “I was
furious with you. But mostly I was mad at myself. For losing control.” She slid
into his arms. “I love you. Took me awhile to remember that, but I did.”
He held her close. “And I love you. I’m
sorry I yelled at you.”
She pulled away. “Don’t be. I deserved it.
You were right. I was wallowing in my own PTSD. I probably will again. I’ll be
okay as long as you’re there to remind me to stop taking myself so seriously.”
“I will always be there for you, Lauren. I
want to be in your life for a very, very long time.”
Tears formed in her eyes and Lauren made no
move to brush them aside. “I think we could arrange that, John McAllen.”
The force of his love came out through the
passion of his kiss. Her arms slipped around his neck. Whatever the future held
for them, they would face it together.
Epilogue
The flogger landed softly across her raised
ass and Lauren dropped her head in submission. The ball gag allowed her to moan
softly as the suede thongs caressed her skin. With her arms stretched between
her legs and attached to the spreader bar that kept her open, she couldn’t
avoid the kiss of the leather and didn’t want to. She buried her face in the
pillow on the floor as he carefully landed each stroke.
There came a pause and she peeked out to
see what he did. John had moved to straddle her, changing the angle the thongs
landed on her body. Mostly he landed them against her ass and upper thighs but
occasionally he let a soft stroke fall between her legs. The supple leather
curled under and placed a stinging kiss on her sensitive nether lips. She knew
if he did that a few more times, the leather would start to come back stained
with the juices that evidenced her arousal.
“Look at my little slave girl,” John’s
voice crooned from above. “Dressed in leather and metal, spread and ready,
allowing me to flog her body as I desire.”
Lauren smiled around the rubber ball. She
loved it when he played with her mind, setting the scene for her.
“No one at school will know you have become
my slave when we go home. It’s our little secret.”
Lauren whimpered in the back of her throat.
Getting a job as a school nurse had been the perfect solution for her skills.
Dealing with PMS was far easier than dealing with gunshot wounds and blown-off
arms. Getting a job in the same school where John worked had been a stroke of
luck she still thanked God for.
“Don’t tell me the slave is ready to come
already?”
A standing joke between them. Lauren was
ready to come almost before they started. He had only to mention the toys
upstairs in the spare room they’d turned into a dungeon of sorts and she was
ready and willing.
She made a positive noise in the back of
her throat to signal that she was ready any time he was. He laughed and doubled
both the strength and the speed of the blows against her ass and pussy.
He loved the whimpers she made when she
came while gagged. When he gave her her voice, she didn’t always let go as
easily as when she was gagged. Even though little sound would escape this room,
she still gave more of herself when she could holler to her heart’s content and
not have to worry about the neighbors calling the police.
So he often gagged her and let her whimper
and moan her way to an orgasm. He could always take it out when he wanted to.
Beneath him, her whimpers turned to grunts
of pleasure as she came in time with his flogging. Only when the pitch started
to drop did he let up, bringing her down slowly. At last she lay spent, her
muscles relaxing once more into her bindings.
Quickly he unfastened the quick-release
catches and helped her to stand with her legs together. He removed the ball gag
and she flexed her jaw. Wiping the drool with the back of her hand, she looked
at him with contentment. “Thank you,” she murmured with a coquettish glance at
the bed.
“You are such a slut!” he told her as he
picked her up and deposited her on the bed.
“I know. I love it! You’ve made a free
woman out of me.”
He lay down beside her and she put her arms
around his neck, the locks on her cuffs jingling in his ear. “And you’ve made a
monster out of me.”
“Eek, I’m so frightened! Is the monster
going to get me?”
He kissed her deeply, running his hands
over her hips and feeling the wonderful curves of her body. “This monster is
going to take what is rightfully his!” he told her as he pushed her body
beneath his, kneeing her legs apart.
She spread them wide even as she feigned
horror. “Oh no!”
“Oh yes!”
Her pussy was warm and wet after its recent
orgasm, slick and ready for his entrance. He pushed and she raised her hips to
help him enter. He’d intended to tease himself with her pussy entrance, but she
was so damn warm and inviting.
“Oh yes,” he repeated, a very different
tone in his voice.
She brought her legs up and wrapped them
around his waist. “Ride me, cowboy.”
He cocked an eye at her. “I thought I was a
monster.”
“You’re monstrous big and you fill me. Now
fuck me like the Dom you are.”
There was no arguing with her logic, not
with his cock starting to call the shots. He slid easily in and out, setting up
a rhythm that swayed them both. His balls tightened, yet he held on to his
control. His voice was rough when he spat out the words he needed to say.
“I love you, Lauren McAllen.”
“I love you, John McAllen.”
Her voice sounded equally strangled and it
pushed him over the edge. He looked at her as he came, glorying in the power
she gave him, basking in the love they shared.
And as he drifted into asleep afterward,
his cock still buried inside her, she kissed the top of his head where it
rested on her breasts. He sighed, deciding that lying with Lauren was far
preferable to lying on scratchy grass with ants crawling up his sleeve. Her arms
rested on his back, her fingers idly drawing small circles over his muscles.
“Lauren,” he murmured, sounding almost
asleep.
“Yes?”
Only a soft snore answered her. In the
darkness, she smiled and kissed the top of his head once more, deciding it was
high time she sent Chuck a thank-you note for stepping in a gopher hole so she
could meet the man who made her whole.
About the Author
For many years, Diana Hunter confined herself to mainstream
writing. Her interest in the world of dominance and submission, dormant for
years, bloomed when she met a man who was willing to let her explore the
submissive side of her personality. In her academic approach to learning about
the lifestyle, she discovered hundreds of short stories that existed on the
topic, but none of them seemed to express her view of a D/s relationship.
Challenged by a friend to write a better one, she wrote her first BDSM novel,
Secret
Submission
, published by Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
Diana welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website
and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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