Authors: Erin Lark
Tags: #bdsm, #in the rain, #m/f romance, #erotic romance, #bdsm romance, #kink, #submissive
In the Rain
In the Rain
by
Erin Lark
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Erin Lark
In the Rain
Copyright ©
2013 by Erin Lark
Cover art © 2013
Erin Lark
http://www.erinlark.com
One
T
he
honeymoon ended before we could move in together. And once I started
relinquishing my orgasms to the only vibrator
I owned instead of the man I'd promised them to years ago, I knew we were in
trouble.
No,
not trouble.
Trouble
meant there was something to fix. And there was no fixing what we'd become.
This
would be the end. The end of us, of Boyra (Bret and Moyra), and over half a
decade of supporting a relationship that had
fallen too hard on my shoulders.
Six
years. Six fucking years spent trying to please the man I loved. And for what?
A box of useless trinkets and a bottle of lube we haven't even opened
yet. Squaring my shoulders, I reached for the deerskin flogger and Bret's
spare
cat o' nine tails, adding them to the box before setting it on the table.
The only thing
I had left to do was remove the weight around my neck, along with the chains
he'd wrapped around my heart.
Come
on, Moyra, you can do this.
Now I wasn't so sure.
I'd tried time and again to express my needs, only to
have them shot down and ignored as soon as they passed over my lips. I was sick
of it. Six years or not, I wouldn't stand by while he pushed me off to the side
like some
dish that had
suddenly turned cold.
Truthfully,
I'd been planning to leave him for quite some time, but it wasn't until, when I
needed him and he wasn't there, I made up my mind. As fucked up as I was the
other night, he didn't do so much as bat an eye at me before retiring to his laptop
for the evening.
I
wanted to feel the tails of the flogger on my skin. To lose myself in subspace
and escape my own mind for a while. It never happened. He didn't offer. In
fact, the last few times we'd had sex, I'd initiated it, and it felt more like a
chore on his end than the pleasure it once brought into our relationship.
I
was done waiting. Done trying to explain my side of things when my words fell
on deaf ears.
Tonight, Moyra.
Tonight I'd get him to leave for good. No
matter the apology, he was gone.
Swallowing
around the lump in my throat, I reached around to the nape of my neck and
unhooked my collar. Then, taking a deep breath, I added it to the box and moved
on to the next room.
We'd
discussed one of us moving in with the other a few times, and for once in my
life, I was glad it never happened. Sure, some of my things were at his house,
but for all I cared, he could keep them. I didn't want the smallest reminder of
what we had in my house, so I packed it all. The floggers, the cuffs, nipple
clamps, hell, even my
collar—the collar I had to beg him for and almost bought
myself.
I
clicked my tongue and set the box on the counter. He didn't own me anymore.
Honestly, he never did. If I had to make a guess, Bret had only ever
been in it for the control. But as soon as I started voicing my concerns, it
was as if I was talking out of line. There was no communication, and I was
tired of waiting, of begging—of hoping things would be different.
Taking
a breath, I considered changing into something a little more
presentable than my jeans and t-shirt. Most nights, I would've been in a sexy
teddy, a satin robe or something just as
revealing, only for
him to sneer and ask me to put something else on.
Fuck it.
If he wanted
to get on my case about what I was or wasn't wearing, I'd let him. Getting
yelled at over something so stupid would make this a lot easier anyway. I
couldn't chicken out. Not again.
I
set my jaw and was about to walk into the bedroom when the distinct sound of
keys jingling on the other side of the door stopped me. Nerves coiled in my
stomach as I waited for the door to unlock, then open in front of me. The less
time he spent inside my apartment, the better.
No sitting. No drinks. Just
get him the fuck out of here.
Bret
halted as soon as I was within his line of sight. Removing his keys from the
lock, he shut the door, but that was
as far as he got. His eyes narrowed, and he scowled in my direction.
"You
sick or something?" he asked, shoving his keys into his pocket.
Come
on, you can do this. Get. Him. Out.
I dropped my gaze. Met
his and held it.
You aren't his submissive anymore.
"I'm fine,"
I said through clenched teeth, hoping he didn't noticed how hard I fisted my
hands then.
He
raised an eyebrow and then shrugged out of his book bag and jacket, but didn't
hang them up. Instead, he set the bag on the floor and draped his jacket over
one arm, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Can we at least
sit down? I've been on my feet all day."
I
squared my shoulders. "I'd rather not."
"You
mind telling me what this is all about? You sounded fine on the phone earlier,
or was I wrong in thinking you wanted to go out?"
Going
out would've meant people and possibly a public display from Bret. No one
needed that.
It was bad enough I'd probably have to diffuse him before he left at the end of
the night.
No, not at the end of the night, Moyra. Now.
Before
I could give it a second thought, the words passed over my lips. "I want
you to leave."
"Okay."
He frowned and his shoulders tensed.
Now you've done it.
"Mind
telling me why?"
I
wet my lips, and he did the same. His tongue swept over his lower lip, causing
my spine to weaken a little more
than I would've liked. I stared at my socked feet. At him. I couldn't ignore
the up-down sweep of his eyes or the creases on his forehead.
At
least he was giving me a moment to collect myself. Or maybe he was hoping he'd
heard me wrong or that I'd
have a change of heart. But looking at him then, the way his spine stiffened
and how he looked down on me, the possibility of me caving in seemed less
likely than before.
"Look,"
I said, digging my nails into my arms to hold on to what nerves I had left. "This
isn't working. It hasn't been working for a long time."
He
gripped his jacket in one hand and let his arms fall to his sides. "The
hell it hasn't. This is the first I've heard you say a damned thing. What is
it, Moyra? Are you unhappy?"
You
could say that.
More like frustrated
out of my damned mind.
"You
know I'm not a fucking mind reader. You're supposed to tell me when things are
bad before they get this far." He sighed, then reached for my arm,
stopping when I drew away from him. "What the f—you know what? Fine."
He exhaled through his nose. "Why don't we sit and talk about this?"
"Haven't
you been listening? I am talking about it. We've talked about it before, you
were just too
involved with your fucking video games to care." I snapped my mouth shut,
but it was too late. The damage was already done. Worse yet, it was still
happening, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do to stop it.
I
caught the slight hint of movement below my line of vision, and my mouth
watered when I noticed his fingertips on the buckle to his belt. A shiver ran
up my spine. So many times, the gentle thud of his belt on my back had been
enough to turn my doubts away, but not tonight.
This is going to happen.
I
couldn't back down now. His things were packed, and if I caved this time, I
wasn't sure I'd be able to bring it up again.
"I
was going through some shit the other night, and you didn't care," I said,
meeting his gaze.
Bret
glanced at the box of things on my kitchen counter before looking at me. "Well,
I'm here now."
Yeah,
well I'm not.
Truth be told, I wanted to get as far
away from him as humanly possible, but even with
the few inches between us, we were too close.
"Doesn't
matter," I said.
"Why
the fuck not?" His eyes darkened.
"Because..."
I bit my bottom lip.
Yes, Moyra. Why not?
I drew in a deep breath and
exhaled slowly. "Because this isn't the same."
"Isn't
it?" He crossed his arms over his chest.
I
swallowed hard. "It's completely different."
Is it?
I honestly
wasn't sure, but it was too late to give into him now.
Do that,
and you'll get hell for it.
But if I didn't, I'd
get hell either way. Anymore, I wasn't sure which option was better to take, or
if I had a choice at all.
"Moyra?"
He raised his eyebrows, but didn't move any closer—thank fuck.
"Yes,
I'm going through shit now, but it has nothing to do with the other night,"
I said, almost blurting
it out no thanks to the hard coils wound around my stomach. "It's us."
"I
can see that."
He gave me a pointed look, but I didn't elaborate. "And tell me, where is
this sudden realization coming from?"
It
isn't as sudden as you think.
"Just took me some
time to realize how much of an ass you are."
Now
he did close the distance between us, grabbing at my chin so hard he nearly
stole the breath from my lungs. I pushed him away and hugged my arms around
myself to keep from doing something drastic.
"So
that's
it?" He huffed. "You decide we're finished and that's fucking it?"
"You
don't care. I can see it in your eyes. Half the time you're either picking
fights with me or someone else. I'm sick of it."
"And
what? Six years means crap to you?"
"You
think I enjoy the fact I've wasted the last six years obeying some
wanna-be-dom?"
Watch what you say, Moyra.
He'd never raised an arm
to me before when I didn't want it, but in all honestly, I didn't put it under
him either. "When's the last time you've flogged me? Do you remember the
last time we had sex without me asking for it?"
"Jesus
Christ, is that what
this is all about?" He ran a hand through his hair. "You always were
an attention slut."
"Oh,
so expecting some time with you, with MY boyfriend, is too much?"
"When
you act like a
brat? Yes."
"It's
more than that though."
I noted the tapping of his foot. "You don't look at me, and when you do,
all you see are my clothes. What I am or am not wearing. And when you finally
do take the time to be with me, we rarely talk." I nodded to his book bag that,
no doubt, had his laptop in it. "You come over here, maybe have something
to eat, then it's right onto the laptop for the rest of the night. Hell, I've
tried taking an interest in those damn games you play, but you can't even be
bothered to teach me."
"So
I'm tired some nights, that isn't
enough of a reason to give up on the last six years." He stepped forward,
but by now, he knew better than to reach for me. "I'm sorry if I'm not as
attentive as I used to be. I'll—"
"Don't.
I don't want to hear it. Not your promises or whatever excuse you might have.
I'm done
with it. All of this. I want you out.
I
want out."
"You've
been reading those fucked-up sites again, haven't you?"
So
what if I have?
"At least one of us is trying to
make this dynamic work."
"Is
that what
you call breaking up?"
"Well,
it obviously isn't working, so why should we—"
He
gripped my chin and crushed his lips to mine. I clamped my mouth shut and
pushed him away, wiping my lips as I did.
"Get.
Out." I cringed when my voice shook. "Now."
Bret
glared at me, and then turned for the box on my counter.
"Leave
it." At this point, I didn't care if they were a reminder or not. I could
trash them later, but if he didn't leave right now, I was sure I'd—
The
door slammed behind him, and for the first time tonight, I was able to breathe.
He hadn't taken his things with him, and for now, I was just happy
to have him gone. Something hard hit against the other side of the door.
"There's
your fucking key. You can keep it." Bret's voice faded as he more than
likely stormed down the hall toward the elevator.