Things Made Right (10 page)

Melody looked down at her lap again. “The more I learn, the more I realize maybe I don’t want to know who my brother really was.”

“I wish I could be of more help,” Loren said. “Some things just can’t be made right.”

* * * *

The shakes hit Loren when she was back in her car nearly an hour later. Melody Axlerod had pulled out of the parking lot ahead of her. Loren sat there, engine and AC running, and rested her head against the steering wheel.

So many things Loren had wanted to say to the woman, especially after her admission of what she had discovered.

Yes, your brother was a fucking monster.

Yes, your brother was a rapist.

Yes, your brother deserves to be dead, because he and his friends took away my dreams, my hopes, my trust and faith in greater humanity.

Yes, I know what happened to your brother and his friends, and I’m fucking
glad
it happened.

All of it locked in her throat. All of it remaining forever unspoken to the woman.

It had to. Because to admit anything, regardless of the reason, would open Ross up to the risk of discovery.

And there was no statute of limitations on murder. And it was premeditated murder.

She would be arrested as an accessory after the fact.

And she wasn’t a bit sorry the four monsters were dead. They’d raped others besides her. Would likely have raped again.

Maybe even raised another generation of rapists.

A quick chlorination of the gene pool.

However they died, it wasn’t nearly slowly or painfully enough for Loren’s tastes. How many lives had they ruined? All because they were entitlement-minded rich assholes who thought they had a right to take whatever they wanted from whomever they wanted.

She was glad Ross had killed them. If that made her a bad person, well, she was okay with that, too.

Once she finally pulled herself together, she buckled her seat belt and left the parking lot, heading south.

Heading home.

Then…

Loren knew her mother was dying to ask questions and raise objections. It was probably only her father’s influence keeping her mom in check. Neither of them looked very happy about this development. She knew they thought Ross would pull her out of school, marry her, maybe get her knocked up if he hadn’t already, and she’d never finish college.

She couldn’t tell them they likely wouldn’t get grandchildren. Not if the doctors were right.

Something that broke her heart but not something she wanted to think about today of all days.

Ross was her rock, her anchor, her higher power.

She didn’t want anyone or anything but him.

Not a damn thing.

Loren didn’t even want the church wedding. She suspected if she went through with it, it would placate her mother enough to keep the peace. If they’d done what Loren wanted to do—go to the county courthouse—her mother would never accept Ross or their marriage.

It was bad enough Ross’ father had pretty much disowned him once Ross told him not only was he marrying Loren, but that they were moving to Florida so he could go to law school there. She didn’t want to totally be cut off from everyone if she could avoid it.

It had shocked her when Ross admitted to her after proposing to her that not only did she not have to work while she went to school, but that the trust his grandfather had left to him paid all his costs, including living expenses and a stipend for things like auto expenses, clothes, and entertainment.

Meaning, by extension, Loren’s living expenses, because his grandfather had included a stipulation that if Ross got married, it would be increased and include her expenses, too.

Ross hadn’t needed to work a job, but he had because he wanted to, wanted to try to make it on his own as much as possible without just leaching off the trust fund.

She loved and respected him even more for that.

Whatever was left after Ross graduated from law school would be paid out to him as a lump sum. By Ross’ best calculations, there would still probably be close to three hundred thousand in the trust.

At least Loren had talked her mother into letting her go plain for the wedding ceremony, a simple white cocktail dress, a small ceremony with only their closest family and friends in attendance, and then a small buffet in the church’s fellowship hall on a Friday evening.

Ross’ father refused to attend and wouldn’t let his mother attend, either.

Next week, once Ross had graduated and the semester was over, they’d pack and move south, to Florida. Ross had two months before starting law school there.

She couldn’t wait, eager for a fresh start. She’d attend USF in Tampa, as long as they accepted her application, which Ross had helped her fill out and submit.

And after, they’d talked about staying in Florida. There would be lots of jobs, lots of opportunities for them.

A fresh start.

A chance to get away from the awful memories lurking here in Pennsylvania, of the memory of how Ross smelled that night when he arrived at her apartment.

Gasoline and booze.

But most of all, his love for her.

His righteous indignation.

His desire to make things right.

After the simple ceremony and reception, Ross drove them to a small bed and breakfast three hours away, just outside a state forest. Once they were checked in and Ross carried their luggage up to their room, he no sooner had the door shut and locked behind them than Loren was already kicking off her shoes and stripping.

They’d anticipated that a loud spanking might raise unwanted attention, so he’d spanked her well the night before, every time she sat that afternoon a reminder of his love.

His ownership.

His protection.

Including during the car ride there to the inn.

He smiled as he watched her strip for him. “My good girl,” he whispered, crooking a finger at her.

Already she was growing wet, something else fun he’d discovered. Yes, the spankings hurt. But yes, her body had quickly realized a spanking meant fun.

Lots of fun.

And there wasn’t anything her handsome sadist enjoyed more than plunging his fingers into her wet pussy while her freshly spanked ass glowed up at him.

A couple of times she’d asked for the belt, once he’d tried it on her to make sure she’d accept it.

He’d only used the paddle on her twice, both times as a test, and only five swats each, just to show her he meant what he said about punishments. He didn’t smack her with it nearly as hard as she knew he could. It had merely been a demonstration.

She was determined not to earn the paddle if she could help it. Not for real.

For funsies, however…

Funishment was something she now eagerly looked forward to, even in just the few short weeks since they’d gotten engaged. He’d started teaching her the positions he wanted her to wait in, depending on his mood. Sometimes it was on her knees, legs spread wide for him, with her hands laced behind her head, elbows out and slightly back, making her breasts stand out. Sometimes it was on her knees, bent over, head touching the floor and arms stretched out in front of her.

Sometimes it was on all fours, ass in the air and shoulders on the floor, legs spread wide.

This one got her wet the fastest and usually ended up with his cock inside her in less than ten minutes.

He had not as of yet ever denied her permission to go somewhere, alone or with friends.

She did not feel stifled.

She felt loved.

The more control she gave him, the more control he took, the more loved she felt.

She knew that was something that might make her mother’s skin crawl if Loren ever admitted it to her, but Loren was beyond caring.

It was her life, and she would live it.

And there were now sometimes hours, even once days, were she managed to go without thinking about
that
night.

Another wonderful discovery, that her mind could slip into a blissfully erotic haze when Ross took control and spanked her. When she admitted that to him, he did some research and a few days later told her it was called subspace.

She didn’t give a damn what it was called, she loved it when it happened.

All the better, he loved taking her to that wonderful mental retreat.

Once she was naked she crossed the room and was in his arms, sighing as he grabbed her hair and tipped her head back. Another rule, he wanted her to let her hair grow even longer, down past her shoulders so he could wrap it around his hands.

Fine with her. Long hair was easier to take care of anyway.

He nibbled on the base of her throat, teeth grazing her flesh. “Missus Ross Daniel Connelly,” he whispered. “Such a beautiful woman you are.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Already her clit was throbbing, anticipating what he’d do.

He reached around her and lightly smacked her ass. “On the bed. On your back, spread-eagle.”

She immediately complied, wondering what he was up to.

His purpose was soon exposed. He’d brought several pieces of rope with him, which he used to tie her limbs to the bed’s wooden four-poster frame. He’d also packed some puppy training pads, which he’d been amused to discover solved her squirting problem.

Not that the squirting was a problem to him. He loved it when she did that. The laundry, however, was a problem. Puppy training pads were cheap, absorbent, and meant he’d had fun trying to recreate that first night together. It only seemed to happen when he used his hands on her, much to his apparent disappointment.

“I love doing that to you,” he said. “It means I’ve taken you a level beyond pleasure, to where I totally own you at a cellular level.”

Tonight he stripped and lay between her legs with a smile on his face. She was required to keep her pussy shaved for him, a small neatly trimmed landing strip allowed, but that was all.

He swiped his tongue up her slit, from pussy to clit and back again, making her moan. “Tonight,” he said, “I’m not going to stop making you come.” He held something up, and she realized it was a dildo vibrator. “Not until I’m ready to stop making you come.” He twisted the base and it started humming. “You can beg and plead all you want, but tonight you will get no mercy from me.”

Nervous tension swept through her. Before she’d taken her relationship with him to the next level, she would have laughed at anyone who referred to forced orgasm play as “torture.”

Now, she knew better. Not that it was a bad kind of torture, but it was still torture.

He slid the vibrator between her pussy lips, slowly fucking it in and out of her as she softly moaned.

“After we get settled in Florida,” he said, “I’m going to start working with you on orgasm control. On you working on holding it back until I tell you to come. For now, I want to make you come as many times as I possibly can.”

Lowering his mouth to her pussy, he started licking her clit. The first small explosion hit her almost immediately, between the fullness of the vibrator inside her and the exquisite pleasure of his mouth on her clit.

“Good girl,” he whispered before returning his mouth to her clit.

She didn’t know how long it lasted, her arms and legs pulling on the ropes securely holding her to the bed, her tears and pleas for no more falling on his deaf ears as he forced her through wave after wave of orgasms. He would only give her a few seconds to catch her breath before starting her on the rise again, the vibrator and his mouth a lethal tag-team of pleasure.

It was only sometime later that she realized he also had a finger inside her ass. She wasn’t even sure when that had happened, only that at one break he was slowly fucking it in and out of her, making her moan with pleasure.

“Yes, I was sneaky, baby,” he said, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Since I can’t spank you this weekend, we’re going to do something else. I told you, your body belongs to me. The only part of you I haven’t claimed yet is this sweet ass. By the end of the weekend, you’re going to have that vibrator stuffed in your pussy while I’m fucking your ass, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of feeling you coming all over my cock in the process.”

She shivered, another explosion washing through her at the mental image that triggered in her.

“Oooh, baby likes that idea. I’m going to fuck this sweet ass and empty my cum in it, claiming you totally. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes…Sir,” she managed.

“Of course you do. Because you’re
my
good girl, aren’t you?”

She shuddered again, another ripple of pleasure. “Yes, Sir.”

It was all she wanted to be.

At some point, he finally took pity on her. He got up, leaving the vibrator humming inside her while he went to wash his hands. It gave her a moment to catch her breath.

Then he was back, untying her legs but leaving her wrists bound. He pushed her legs up and removed the vibrator, turning it off. Then he held it up to her lips.

“Treat it like my cock, baby. New rule.”

She opened wide, eagerly licking it clean. She always cleaned his cock now after he fucked her, something she loved doing. She loved giving him blowjobs, loved it when he let her suck his cum right from his balls.

In a way, she felt a little badly for him that she could orgasm a bunch of times and he could only come a couple of times, if that often, in one evening while making love. Sometimes he only came once.

It didn’t seem fair to her, even though he apparently wasn’t concerned about it.

He set the vibrator aside and slid his cock into her pussy. “My sweet, beautiful wife,” he whispered, staring down at her. “I’m going to love doing all sorts of dark and dirty things to you during our life together. Tying you up and spanking you, fucking you until you come, and doing it all over again.”

A moan escaped her. She was already enjoying it herself.

“I’ve been pretty lenient on you with rules,” he said. “I wanted to give you time to settle in. I’m going to start setting more rules. Together, we’ll agree on them. I’ll give you a voice in it. But if you disobey me, I expect you to admit it. If you break a rule, you will wait for me to come home and have the paddle ready for me to give you your discipline. Understand?”