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Authors: Lauren Gallagher

Reconstructing Meredith (26 page)

BOOK: Reconstructing Meredith
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I sighed. “I feel like I’d be bitching about a paper cut to an amputee.”

“No, you’re not. If you’re going to be what she needs to get through this, you need to be on top of your emotional health and you need to be honest with her. It won’t do either of you any good if you crumble under your own weight.”

I said nothing.

Leslie went on. “Talking to me is the first step, and I commend you for your openness and honesty with me. None of these feelings are easy to deal with or discuss. Now that you’ve done this, I think you need to get a good, open dialogue going with her about it. It’s up to you whether you two discuss it on your own or here in my office, but for your sake, I encourage you to do so.”

I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. “That will be a fun conversation.”

“No, probably not.” She tapped her fingers on the folder in her lap. “I can certainly see why all of this is taking its toll on you, Scott. The dreams, your feelings for Meredith, everything. There’s no shame in any of this. It would be emotionally taxing for anyone, but you’re maintaining two other romantic and sexual relationships on top of it.”

I laughed dryly. “Well,
one
other relationship.”

“Oh?” She cocked her head.

“Amy and I…” I shrugged. “We decided to call it quits.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too.” I let out a breath. “It’s probably just as well, though. We’ve both had so much shit getting in the way of things for the last few months, and when things started with Meredith, I was lucky to find a few minutes to talk to Amy on the phone, never mind getting together.”

“How are you coping with that?” she asked. “With the end of that relationship?”

“What can I do? We’re still friends. She’s still my sub. I wouldn’t say it’s the most pleasant thing I’ve ever gone through, but it’s admittedly a…” I looked down at my hands.

“Relief?”

Guilt burned in my gut. “Yeah. It’s a relief.”

“There’s no shame in that,” she said. “Everyone has their limits, even you. Maintaining two relationships on top of rehabilitating a submissive for whom you have strong feelings? Something has to give.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I just hate the fact that it had to be her.”

“Can you think of any other solution?”

I shook my head. “Not really. We’d been drifting apart for a while anyway, but I’d hoped to work things out. When all of this started with Meredith, though…” shook my head again.

“How is your relationship with Kristen? Are you concerned about this affecting that relationship?”

“Oh, I’m concerned about it, but I think she and I will be okay. I feel kind of guilty though, because I unloaded all of this on her the other night.” I rested my elbows on my knees and rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. “That’s why I’m here today. After the other night… I just… I couldn’t deal with it anymore.”

“What happened that night? When did you realize you’d reached your breaking point?”

I sat up. “Probably around the time I called Kristen that afternoon and asked if she wanted to top me.”

Leslie’s eyebrows jumped.

I laughed dryly. “Yes, I do submit once in a while. Krissy is the only one who tops me these days, and it’s rare.” I chewed my lip. “Usually only when I’m stressed out and need to let someone else take the reins for a while.”

“I can certainly see why you did so now, then.”

I nodded. “Anyway, I told her what Meredith went through. I hated to break her confidence, but I was just losing it. And then I broke down.”

“None of this is as surprising as you might think,” she said. “Even the part about you playing the bottom once in a while. In spite of the reputation Doms have for being heartless, you do have a heart. You’re human, just like any Dom.”

“Aside from one,” I growled.

“That was not a Dom,” she spat. “That creature has no business anywhere near a woman, whether she’s a submissive or not.”

“My sentiments exactly,” I muttered.

She closed her folder and set it aside. “Well, we’re at the end of our time here. Unless you need to talk further. I can ask my next patient to wait a few minutes if it’s—”

“No, no.” I put a hand up. “I’m fine. This was quite helpful. Thank you, Leslie.”

She smiled. “That’s what I’m here for.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Meredith was beautiful. There were no two ways about it. Standing in front of me in my dungeon with her eyes down and her clothes at her feet, she was simply beautiful.

It didn’t matter how many times I’d seen her this way, I had to stop for a moment to take her in. Silently watching a sub was a very effective mind game, a way to put her off balance before giving her a command, but I just wanted to look at her this time.

Stripped. Surrendered. Completely calm and confident. Unafraid. It was hard to believe there was ever a time when she flinched from my touch. In fact, it was hard to believe there’d ever been a time when we didn’t touch at all. If only for tonight, at least, the ghosts of her past and ours were gone.

But how much longer will I get to look at you like this
?

Shaking my head, I banished that thought to the back of my mind and cleared my throat. “Stand with your back to the Cross.”

Meredith looked up. “With my back to it, Sir?”

I raised an eyebrow.

She quickly cleared her throat. “Yes, Sir.”

As I’d ordered, she stood in front of the Saint Andrew’s Cross, facing me. Without a word, I took her hand and lifted it to my lips. I kissed her palm, then moved to the inside of her wrist, and she held her breath while I worked my way up her forearm.

“Do you trust me, Meredith?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She bit back a whimper when I drew a tiny circle with the tip of my tongue on the inside of her elbow. Goose bumps rose along her arm and my back.

Our eyes met. She licked her lips.

Without a word, I raised her arm and fastened the cuff around her wrist. Then I did the same with the other.

“I’m going to bind your ankles. Are you comfortable with that?”

She nodded.

I muffled a cough.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” Left cheek, right. Then I knelt, trailing my hands down her legs, watching her squirm at my gentle touch. My fingertips drifted over her thighs, then around to the backs of her trembling knees. I drew light circles, just as I had on her elbow with my tongue, and the restraints creaked as she fidgeted.

My palm drifted down her calf to her ankle. Holding her ankle, I glanced up to make sure she wasn’t nervous or scared. Judging by the way she bit her lip when she met my eyes, I had nothing to worry about.

I secured one restraint, then the other. Once they were in place, I stood. “Anything too tight? Anything tingling or cold?”

“No, Sir.”

“Tell me your safe words.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath. “Red to stop, yellow to back off, Sir.”

“Good girl.” Left cheek, right. “I’m stepping away from you for a second, but I’m not leaving you, okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, Sir.” I watched her for a second. Not a flinch, not even a flicker of fear.

Certain she was calm, I went to the table below the rack of floggers. I watched her face when I lifted the towel I’d laid on the table earlier. She’d eyed it a few times after she’d come into the dungeon, probably wondering what was under it, and now she knew.

It was nothing but a glass of ice. From the way her entire body stiffened, she knew exactly what I intended to do with it. She kept her gaze fixed on that glass as I picked it up and came back across the room to her. I let the ice rattle against the sides, and she gulped.

I knelt to set the glass on the floor, and before I stood, I pulled an ice cube out, ignoring the way it made me shiver. Cold against my skin was my Achilles Heel, even when it was just on my hands. Still, it would be worth it for the chance to tease her like this.

Still watching her eyes, I put my arm around her, letting the heel of my hand brush her skin, but keeping the ice away. Now that my hand was out of sight, she shut her eyes tight, grimacing and holding her breath, flinching in anticipation of the intense cold.

“Am I making you nervous, Meredith?”

“No, Sir.” She squirmed against her restraints, jumping every time my hand moved even though I hadn’t yet let her feel the ice.

“Don’t lie to me,” I said. “Does this make you nervous?”

The slight growl in my voice didn’t even make her jump. The briefest, lightest contact of ice in the small of her back, however, did. I let it graze her skin, just enough to startle her, before pulling it away.

“Answer me truthfully,” I whispered. “Am I making you nervous?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, glancing up at me. “Yes, Sir.”

“Not uncomfortable, though?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good girl.” Left cheek, right.

She relaxed, closing her eyes and releasing her breath.

I pressed the ice in the middle of her back. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, her back arching, but not enough to get away from the cold. Not with the cuffs holding her in place and my body in front of hers. I grinned, watching her gasp and try to wriggle away from the ice as I drew it up the center of her spine.

I took it away from her skin for a second, just long enough for her to pull in one deep, relieved breath, before I pressed it against the side of her neck. I slid it down to her collarbone. She shivered, wriggling as much as her restraints would allow. When I started up her neck, she let her head fall back, exposing her throat and whimpering as I took advantage of that.

I traced every curve of her torso with ice and fingertips. Her breathing quickened. Deepened. She squirmed like she couldn’t decide between pulling away and pushing against. When I circled her nipple with the ice cube, she bit her lip. Oh yeah, this was well worth the torture of having something cold on my own skin.

The ice melted, so I picked up another. Two cubes this time, actually. She watched with wide eyes when I slipped one between my lips. I rolled it around on my tongue, trying not to grin as her eyebrows knitted together. She gulped.

When I put my hands—but no ice—on her hips and leaned in to kiss her neck, she exhaled through her nose, her entire body tensing. She jumped and sucked in a sharp breath when I kissed her neck. Again as the ice in my hand touched her skin. I drew that ice up and down her side while I trailed gentle kisses down to her breast, and she cursed under her breath as I teased her nipple with lips, ice, and tongue.

“Oh, God…” she moaned. I moved to the other nipple, and she cursed and gasped and went out of her damned mind.

I took my lips off her nipple and started up, moving gradually toward her neck while my hand moved down her side, over her hip, and between her legs.

I kissed her neck, occasionally pressing the ice against her skin with my tongue. She gasped when ice and cold fingers touched her pussy, and she shivered as I alternately tormented her with the ice and palmed the cube so I could circle her clit with my fingertips. All the while I switched between warming the skin of her neck with my lips before letting the ice in my mouth chill it once again. She writhed and whimpered, but the restraints kept her at my mercy.

After a while, the cube in my mouth had melted to the point it was too small to do much, so I kissed her neck, then bit down on the ice. She gasped again, her spine straightening and her entire body tensing at the sound of crunching ice. With the ice gone, I raised my head and kissed her full-on as my fingers slid into her pussy. The ice in my hand didn’t last much longer, but her moans stayed just as intense, responding to the gentle pressure of my palm on her clit as if the cold remained.

“Does this turn you on?” I murmured into her kiss.

“Yes, Sir.” She tried to kiss me again, but a shiver separated us. She let her head fall back, screwing her eyes shut as her pussy tightened and her body trembled.

“Don’t you dare come yet,” I whispered into her ear, beckoning against her G-spot. “I haven’t given you permission, have I?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“And you won’t, will you?”

“No, Sir.” She was breathless now. Shaking enough to make her cuffs creak and their chains jingle. She kept her eyes closed, digging her teeth into her lip.

“Look at me,” I whispered.

She opened her eyes.

The second we made eye contact, my breath stopped in my throat.

I saw everything. Not just my lover right on the edge,
everything
. The broken woman who’d called me for help. The unbreakable woman I’d loved back then and still loved now. Years of wounds, weeks of healing. Her weakness, her strength. The only thing I couldn’t find was the answer to the burning question on the tip of my tongue:
Do I have any right to hope you still love me
?

Once again, I shoved that thought to the back of my mind. Any time could be the last time, so I fully intended to make us both enjoy
every
time as much as humanly possible, not spend it worrying.

“Do you want me to let you come?” I pressed my hand a little harder against her clit.

She gasped. “Yes, Sir, please.”

“Not yet.” I stopped my hand and withdrew my fingers. She closed her eyes, releasing a frustrated groan through clenched teeth.

When I stepped back, she opened her eyes, and the frustration in her expression melted away in favor of arousal as I pulled off my shirt. As I reached for my belt buckle, we held each other’s gazes. Hers flicked downward a few times, but each time rose to meet mine.

Once I’d completely stripped, I came back and kissed her. I pressed one hand against the small of her back to keep our hips together, making sure she felt exactly how much she turned me on. The restraints creaked. When I glanced up, her hands curled into tight fists, flexed, then curled again.

“Am I frustrating you, Meredith?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said quickly.

“Good.” I dipped my head to kiss her neck.

“Sir, may—” She caught herself, pausing to take a deep breath.

Looking at her, I raised an eyebrow and inclined my head.

“Please, may I—” She swallowed hard, but didn’t look anywhere except right into my eyes. “May I suck your cock, Sir?” Absent was the shame and embarrassment that would have accompanied such a question weeks ago. She held my gaze without flinching, and the only color in her cheeks was the flush of arousal. The same arousal that, I guessed, made it difficult for her to articulate her question.

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

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded, wetting her lips. “Please, may I?”

“Absolutely.” I almost shivered. That was the woman I knew and loved. Desperate to please, confident enough to ask permission to do so.

I knelt, running my hands up and down her legs. I was eager to feel her hands and mouth on my cock, but I wasn’t in a hurry. First things first.

Glancing up at her, I kissed her thigh. Then a little higher. Leather creaked and metal jingled as I drew closer to her pussy. I flicked the tip of my tongue across her clit, and if her shaking knees were any indication, had it not been for the restraints holding her in place, she probably would have collapsed.

I slid two fingers inside her and teased her just like I had a moment ago, beckoning gently, this time in synch with my tongue’s slow arcs. She moaned, twisting against the cuffs while I teased her right back to the edge and held her there. And held her there. And held her there.

“Scott-
Sir
, please,” she pleaded. “Please, let me come.”

I didn’t have to speak to deny her. She’d hold on until I specifically allowed her to let go, so I didn’t need to say a word to tell her that no, she could
not
come yet.

While I continued circling her clit with my tongue, I trailed one hand down the back of her leg and unbuckled the ankle restraint. Then I switched hands, sliding the other hand down to undo the other cuff as my other fingers slipped inside her, all the while letting the tangy sweetness of her pussy intoxicate me.

Once her ankles were free, I stood. She released a sigh that may have been equal parts relief and aggravation. The torment had stopped, but I hadn’t let her come yet.

I cupped her face in both hands and kissed her lightly. She parted her lips and tried to deepen the kiss, but I pulled back. Closing her eyes, she released a frustrated sound.

“Remember who’s in charge here, Meredith,” I whispered, running the pad of my thumb over her cheekbone. “You’ll get what I see fit to give you. Nothing more.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl.” Left cheek, right. Then I leaned in again, kissing her as gently as I could. I had no doubt she was desperate to taste herself on me, but I forced her to wait, to take only this slow, lips-only kiss. After a long moment, I parted her lips with my tongue and gave her a taste—just a taste—before pulling back again.

Then I deepened the kiss again, and she released a soft moan against my lips when I finally let her taste what I tasted. While I kissed her, I ran my hand up her side, then her arm, all the way to her wrist, and unbuckled the cuff. She let her hand fall to her side. Her body shifted a little, and I guessed she was shaking some stiffness out of her arm. She rolled her shoulder a few times, then put her arm around my waist. When I unbuckled her other arm, she did the same thing.

BOOK: Reconstructing Meredith
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