Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) (37 page)

Three Months Later

Katrina checked the thick leather belt encircling his midsection. He wore nothing else on his magnificent body. “Is it loose enough?”

Keith smiled patiently. It was the third time she’d asked that question. “It’s fine. Too loose and it’ll fall off.” When she reached to check it again, he grabbed her wrists, halting her action. “If I say you’re ready, then you’re ready. Stop stalling, Kitty Kat.”

He’d made her practice with the flogger for two weeks, but he hadn’t let her start until he felt she was sufficiently healed from her ordeal. She’d vented some of her pent-up energy on pillows, and then he’d propped a futon mattress against the wall with pieces of colored tape marking various targets. She’d become pretty good at hitting the target, which had led Keith to consent to this step.

As they were preparing to come down to the dungeon, he’d carelessly dropped a bombshell on her. He’d never allowed a submissive to flog him. The people he usually saw for this kind of thing weren’t dominant either. They were pure sadists, interested only in the delivery of pain.

Though he’d given her the opportunity to chicken out, she hadn’t chosen that avenue. She wanted to do this for him. It was just jitters. She wasn’t sure if the jitters came from the fact that she’d never done this or from Keith’s warning that he might not be all that gentle afterward.

He turned around, and she snapped his wrist cuffs to the Saint Andrew’s cross. While he wasn’t keen on putting her up there, she was very familiar with how to secure the snaps. He liked to tie her to the Y-table, the brand-new spanking bench, and the exam chair. She’d come to realize that the cross was for him, a fantasy he kept that proved he wasn’t as jaded as he’d originally thought. When she’d pointed that observation out to him, he’d just smiled and continued painting her toenails, an activity it turned out he very much enjoyed.

“I’m going to start slow and warm you up.”

“Don’t push it, Kitty Kat. Stop when you get tired. Stamina will come with time and practice.”

The wrist cuffs were to remind him not to move. They in no way indicated that she was in charge of the scene. He trusted her to do right by him.

She targeted the upper left section of his back first. Today she wasn’t going to do anything fancy like move around to hit unexpected areas or vary the intensity of her swing. Keith was quite skilled with those nuances. While she enjoyed them, he’d been clear that she couldn’t expect to have that level of skill in just a few weeks. He’d been at this for years.

On his torso, his skin was still bronzed from working in the yard, but his ass was lily-white. When she got to those knee-weakening, sculpted muscles, she enjoyed the pattern of emerging marks. As she played over that area, she lost herself in the darkening shades of red that layered one on top of the other.

Her head buzzed, and she realized that she’d been at it far longer than she’d intended. She placed the flogger on a table at the side of the room and released his cuffs. Immediately he pushed her to her knees. She’d forgotten his first condition. After the flogging, she was to kneel and thank him for letting her pleasure him this way.

“Thank you for allowing me to flog you, Keith. You have a very nice ass.”

He didn’t say anything, but the long, hard length of his cock pointed eagerly in her direction. Finally, he gathered her hair in one hand. “It’s a rush, isn’t it, Kitty Kat?”

A rush? Yes. That was a good way to describe it. It was almost like subspace except that she was the one responsible for the action of the scene. “Yes, it was.”

“You need to be careful to stay in the present. Dommes who go too far often do so when they’re completely unaware of what’s happening with the sub. They’re lost in the feel of the swing or the snap of the whip or the way the lines and welts make pretty designs. They forget there’s a living, breathing person on the other end. That’s how accidents happen.” His voice was soft, not at all the feral monster he’d predicted. She wondered if she’d disappointed him.

“I’m sorry, Keith. Did I hurt you too much?” Her heart was heavy with dread. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. No part of her was a sadist. She wanted to give him this in order to please him.

“No, Kitty Kat. But it’s one of the reasons I’m not letting you use the heavier floggers yet.” With his free hand, he cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her lip. “That was pretty good for your first time. I am pleased with you, and I’m going to reward you.”

She wanted to ask how, but she knew better than to speak. Using the tangle of her hair as a guide, he helped her to her feet. Then he hooked his arm under her knees and swept her off the floor. The firm mattress they’d used for target practice now sat on a frame in the corner of the dungeon.

He set her down gently and settled himself on top of her. The kiss began sweetly, with the worshipping of her cheeks and eyelids. Then he explored her lips leisurely. She opened to him on a breathless sigh, luxuriating in his expert attention. The man kissed like a god, and he was all hers.

With tiny, teasing forays, he deepened the kiss. By the time he ravaged her with his tongue, she was lost in the sweetest bliss. Then he positioned his cock at her entrance and thrust inside, claiming her swiftly. Given the pace he’d set so far, she expected him to make love to her slowly, but Keith had other ideas. The frenzy took him, and he pumped his hips, taking her with long, hard strokes that filled her completely and then left her empty and pining for more.

She whimpered as the fire grew. She became a cinder, a hot ember floating through the air, and she held on to his shoulders to keep from drifting away. She whispered his name, but it evolved into a scream and a desperate request for orgasm.

“Please let me come, Master. Please, oh please!”

With a growling purr, he bit her earlobe. “Yes, Kitty Kat. Come for me.”

The bomb inside exploded, and she forgot how to move. Her arms dropped down on either side of her head, and the legs she’d been unaware were wrapped around his hips also fell with a dull thud. Keith’s body jerked as he came, and then he collapsed next to her.

“Thank you, Master.”

He gave her a satisfied smile. When she felt it to the core of her heart, she used his title, and she was okay with that.

__________

Later they went upstairs, hand in hand, to take a shower. Her parents expected them to be on time for Thanksgiving dinner. On the way to the master suite, they passed one of the guest bedrooms that Keith had converted into a child’s room. He’d arranged a crib along one wall. Perpendicular to it was a pink-and-white toddler’s bed, complete with side rails. A dresser, a low set of shelves, and a huge toy bin rounded out the furniture.

Mrs. Daley was still working on a permanent placement for Angelina and Corey, but Keith had been granted regular visiting privileges, which he exercised at least twice each week. The kids hadn’t stayed overnight, but they’d napped in that room quite often.

Katrina bit her bottom lip as they passed. Keith might protest now that having children wasn’t a priority, but she’d seen him with Corey, a little blond boy who greatly resembled his uncle. And Angelina had wrapped him completely around her tiny finger. She had only to smile up at him with those big brown eyes, and he would scoop her into his arms and swing her around.

They’d dealt with one full-out tantrum. Keith had kept his calm as he wrapped her in his embrace, which had helped Angelina normalize. Since then, they’d been working on appropriate ways to express anger and frustration. It wasn’t easy, but Mrs. Daley had been helpful in providing names of counselors. While they hadn’t discussed the idea of the children becoming a more permanent part of their lives, the possibility remained out there, with Mrs. Daley giving them stronger and less veiled suggestions every time they met.

Keith and Katrina stepped into the shower together, and he drew her into his arms. He kissed her lips and whispered in her ear, “Touch yourself for me.”

Katrina reclined on the shower seat, one of her favorite features in the house they now shared, and lifted one foot to let it rest on the edge. Across from her, Keith stroked his cock as he watched her through his half-closed lids.

“I love you, Kat.”

She smiled at the man of her dreams. “I love you too, Keith.”

I’m Michele Zurlo, author of over 20 romance novels. During the day, I teach English, and in the evenings, romantic tales flow from my fingertips.

I’m not half as interesting as my characters. My childhood dreams tended to stretch no further than the next book in my to-be-read pile, and I aspired to be a librarian so I could read all day. I’m pretty impulsive when it comes to big decisions, especially when it’s something I’ve never done before. Writing is just one in a long line of impulsive decisions that turned out to showcase my great instincts. Find out more at www.michelezurloauthor.com or @MZurloAuthor.

Dustin wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted to date her. Go steady. Be an item. It seemed both juvenile and momentous.

After Brodie, the man she'd thought would fill the roles of friend, lover, and Master, had proven to be not at all the person she'd thought he was, she had sworn off dating a Dom. The liberties he'd taken—and forced her to consent to—still gave her nightmares. Memories snuck up on her at the oddest  times, battering her with intense waves of humiliation that stole her confidence and sense of self.

Yes, Dustin was a good man—much too good for her. Once he found out about the things she’d allowed Brodie to make her do, he would gently break her heart and run as far as he could go.

Dustin's palm pressed against hers, warm and firm, tangible proof that she was about to take a step forward. Right now, she had paused in a figurative half-step, her foot hovering uncertainly in the air. Once she put her foot down and shifted her weight, the ground behind her would fall away, leaving her forever teetering on the precipice.

Full disclosure. She should warn him of the consequences to his actions.

"Dustin, if you're serious about this, I think you should know that I date vanilla."

He didn’t move. She lifted her gaze from the floor to find him staring at her curiously. Was she nervous? Utterly. She stared back, her manner appropriately sober.

"Why?"

No need to go into the details or give voice to uncomfortable memories. "BDSM scenes are fun, but they're not what I'm looking for in a long-term relationship. If I ever settle down, I want a husband, not a Master." Nobody was ever going to order or coerce her into doing anything she didn't want to do. Not again.

He brushed his thumb back and forth over her wrist, evidence that he was both considering and bothered by her assertion. "Can't you have both?"

Once she'd thought it possible. Brodie had proven her theory wrong. "No. A husband is a partner. A Master is the boss. That's exciting, but impractical for the long haul. I just think you should know my views on the issue before you decide to change lanes." Silence fell in a heavy, oppressive blanket, but she didn't attempt to alleviate it with mindless chatter, further explanation, or false assurances.

Finally his head bobbed a brief nod, indicating he'd arrived at a conclusion. "So you're thinking that we'll eventually get married?"

Visit www.lostgoddesspublishing.com for information about our other titles.

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Re/Bound (Doms of the FBI 1) by Michele Zurlo

Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI 2) by Michele Zurlo

July 2015: Re/Claimed (Doms of the FBI 3) by Michele Zurlo

August 2015: Blade’s Ghost by Michele Zurlo

Nexus #1: Tristan’s Lover by Nicoline Tiernan

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Dragon Kisses 2 by Michele Zurlo

Dragon Kisses 3 by Michele Zurlo