“Which is?”
“Giving aftercare to my beautiful sub.”
Aftercare? Her mind shifted to the gentle ways Stephen had spoken to his sub, how he’d held her after their scene. And back in Brock’s office, after he’d finished with her, he’d held her against him in much the same fashion. Was that aftercare?
His hands cradled one of her breasts. “You might feel a little pain when I remove the clamp, as blood rushes back into your nipple, but it won’t last long. I promise. And I’ll do everything I can to help soothe the pain as quickly as possible.” He gave her a smile that was part seduction, part remorse. “Ready?”
No. But she bit her bottom lip and nodded.
“Here we go…” Brock slowly unscrewed the first one.
Pain shot from the peak. “Shit!” Her back arched. Her limbs went rigid as the sudden agony seized her.
Brock leaned close and took the nipple into his mouth. The wet heat combined with the extra-gentle caress of his tongue quickly soothed the intense pain to a dull sting. He repeated the process on the other side. “There, that wasn’t too bad, was it?”
No, it was incredibly awful—equal parts incredible and awful. She couldn’t explain it.
He deposited the clamps on the nearby table then tugged a rope near her feet. The swing and restraints gave way, and she dropped to the mattress. He didn’t, however, take the time to remove the actual shackles around her wrists and ankles. They remained, a constant reminder of their Dom/Sub status.
As if she needed reminding.
Brock wasted no time pushing down his leathers and then rolling a condom onto his impressive erection. His gaze locked onto hers as he crawled on top of her. Her limbs ached from being bound so long, but her discomfort didn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around him and drawing him as close as humanly possible.
“Sir…” she moaned as his cock breached her pussy, sliding in with ease, her perfect match in every way.
His mouth subdued hers in an instant. She hugged him closer, tighter, wrapping as much of her as she could around him. She could never be close enough to this man.
Unlike when he’d taken her on the table, every thrust took forever, his kisses as painfully slow. He made her feel cherished, loved. Now she understood why he called this aftercare.
She’d never felt so cared for in her life.
“Viv. Sweet Viv. Of all we’ve done tonight, this is the most important.” His big hands cradled her head. “Let the closeness take you over. Do you feel it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, tears pressing against the backs of her eyes. “I feel it. I’ve never felt so…so close to anyone.”
“This is where I give back all the trust you placed in me. This is where the relationship between Dom and sub is at its rarest, its most vulnerable.” He nuzzled her neck. “This is where I care for you, where we bond. This is the time lasting relationships are forged.”
She rocked her hips against his. His words, each slow thrust, sent tremors of pleasure slithering through her body.
“I’m gonna make you come one last time, pet, and then I’m going to hold you as exhaustion takes you over. I’ll keep you warm in my embrace, watch over you. Soothe your chills with my body heat. Give you water if you need it. Find food if your body requires it. Nothing matters more to me than your care. Nothing, my precious Vivian.”
He took her a little faster. Her body was a fallen power line, raw, exposed, in need of mending.
“Brock.” She clawed at his back. “Sir.”
Ecstasy uncoiled from her womb like a snake slithering through molasses. Pre-pleasure paralyzed every muscle in her body. Breath froze in her lungs and she gasped, desperate for air, but she couldn’t make her body work.
“Come one last time for me, little sub.”
She arched hard into his thrusting body. Her impending climax took forever to seize her, leaving her teetering on the precipice for an eternity, as if her body was still working up the energy to come one more time.
Brock pinned her arms above her head. “Come for me, pet. I want to feel your entire body quivering around me.”
Delight pulled her under like a strong river current, dragging her closer and closer to the bottom of the stream. Time lost all meaning, folded in on itself. Expanded. Collapsed. Lights shimmered behind her eyes. The world spun around her.
She forced her eyes open so she could stare at the man she loved, the man who’d helped her beat cancer. The man who’d opened her eyes to his strange, erotic world and she couldn’t hold back her emotions a second longer.
“I love you,” she cried out as the taunting orgasm finally claimed her. “I love you.”
Every fiber in Brock’s body went rigid.
I love you…
After walking away from her a year ago, he’d given up on ever hearing those precious, perfect words from the spectacular woman shaking apart beneath him. Her sweet, spasming pussy coaxed his cock closer and closer to release, pulling him deeper into the well of pleasure already drowning her.
He stroked deeper into her, her pussy so tight, so perfect around his erection. He took her faster, his hips no longer under his control. He’d never had a sub who could make him lose his wits, but Viv wasn’t just any sub.
She was everything he’d ever wanted. He tried to tell her so.
“I lo—” But the first hints of his own orgasm cut the words off in his throat. He tried again. “I—oh fuck.”
Pleasure erupted from his balls, shooting from his cock in a fiery rush that stole his breath. He buried his face in her neck as his release rushed through him. No other sub would ever do again. He had his perfect match.
Now he just had to find a way to keep her.
When he’d gathered the strength to move, he pushed from the bed, freed himself from the spent condom then got to work removing the remnants of her shackles. Viv didn’t say a word as he worked—she hardly looked conscious. Occasionally, little squeaks or moans escaped, but that was all, which was to be expected.
He’d worked her hard today.
Before returning to bed, he grabbed two bottles of water from the mini fridge and a handful of energy bars. He wanted to be prepared for when she needed sustenance.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured as he settled in beside her. “I’m here.”
Viv immediately turned to him, a flower turning toward the sun, and cuddled close.
He couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, Vivian Michaels.” He kissed the top of her head. “So much.”
She snuggled closer. “Love you too.”
He closed his eyes. He’d never been happier than he was at this moment. Never. Vivian had looked into his world, into him, and she hadn’t fled. She’d stood tall as she’d navigated the uncharted waters that were his world. The violent waves had battered her, threatened to drown her, but she’d found her own way out of the tumultuous sea. And in the end, they’d grown closer.
But what would happen to this newfound closeness if she ever learned the true reason he’d first come to her side as she’d battled cancer?
Sorrow threatened to seize control of this precious moment. He didn’t want to tell her, but with her upcoming divorce looming, the truth might come out regardless. And he didn’t want her to find out that way. No, he had to tell her.
But how?
How the fuck did he tell the woman he loved her husband had offered to pay him to keep her company while she’d underwent chemo?
Chapter Eleven
Something wasn’t right.
Vivian set the plate of fresh fruit and sandwiches she’d prepared on the breakfast table and dropped onto one of the accompanying chairs. The past couple of days had been simply incredible. She and Brock had spent their days working on their design for the new executive complex, and they’d spent their evenings at the club, learning, growing, bonding.
He’d taught her so much in such a short time, showed her things about passion she’d never dreamed, and much to her surprise, she’d become “at home” at the club, so long as she was by his side. Hell, she’d even run into Steel a few more times, and while he still gave her the creeps, she no longer freaked around him. She and Brock were bonding on a level so much greater than she’d even known possible.
It was all crazy. Despite how at ease she was beginning to feel, she still had trouble completely wrapping her mind around the lifestyle. In a million years, she’d never have expected experiencing the lifestyle to be so damn incredible. The whips, chains, leather and submission. Damn. Not that she was complaining—at least she didn’t think she was, but his world of leather and bondage was still such a big mystery.
The idea of submission both thrilled and terrified her, confused her too. At the club and in the bedroom, he was impressively dominant, directing nearly every second of their passion, but the rest of the time, he was the same old Brock she’d fallen in love with. He didn’t try to control her, didn’t try to force her to be something she wasn’t. It was as if two different Brocks resided in the same body—the BDSM Dom and the caring, equal partner—and bless her, she wanted to get to know them both.
So why did she feel as if Brock was still hiding something from her?
Maybe it came from the fact she’d spent nearly ten years with a man she’d known was lying about everything. Going from a relationship where she assumed her partner was lying to one where she could take his words at face value wasn’t going to be easy. Some habits were hard to break, but she loved Brock and he loved her too.
So why couldn’t she shake the feeling he was hiding something from her?
Or maybe it was her own guilt manifesting. She’d approached Brock under the guise of revenge sex, even though the revenge part of her plan was bogus. Could her dishonest approach be the source behind her unease? Surely not. The reason she’d first come to him didn’t matter anymore. Things between them had progressed past the point of anything she could have imagined. But still, maybe she should just confess and get it out of her system.
Just in case.
From down the hall, a jubilant voice rang out. “Hot fuckin’ damn. Viv, baby, get in here.”
“On my way!” She grabbed their lunch and headed back to Brock.
When she’d ventured out to make their lunch, she’d left him at his drafting table to put some finishing touches on their design sketches. Sustenance and a bit of alone time had seemed appropriate. While they’d made pretty good progress on their design, they kept getting distracted by the sensation of how good his cock felt wedged in her pussy. And while the constant barrage of sex was fantastic, it was hindering their ability to concentrate for long stretches, at least on the mundane office complex design. The German castle job, on the other hand, their kinky sex was the perfect inspiration for that job.
Why again had Brock passed on it?
“Sorry I took so long,” she said as she walked through the door. “I was surprised to see a fridge full of fruit so I decided to make a fruit salad to go with the—oh my god.”
Brock sat at his drafting table, his hand working feverishly over the sketch paper. The muscles of his back and arm twitched with the speed of his drawing, sexy and visible thanks to the fact he wore nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs.
She set the plate on his desk, right next to an open box of condoms. “How long was I in the kitchen? This wasn’t what you were working on when I left.”
“I know.” He didn’t turn from his work. “I had an inspiration.”
“Obviously.” She draped an arm over his shoulder and leaned in to study his new sketch. His idea consisted of a Picasso-esque “rectangle” that looked as if a sphere had been shoved into the middle. “Is the spiracle section gonna be a different material than the rest of the structure?”
“Yes. Glass. And I’m thinking this is where we’re going to put the big boardrooms. Just imagine…” He rolled his chair in front of his office window. “You’re sitting at a striking mahogany conference table looking at me, a.k.a. ‘The Man in Charge’. A wall made entirely of glass stretches behind me. Beyond that, downtown Dallas, the skyline, the blue Texas sky stretches on for miles and miles. Don’t you think that’ll look like—”
“God on his throne?”
He nodded, his lips curving in a triumphant smile.
“I love it.” She straddled his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck. “I
really
do. I’m picturing the space with minimal décor, not sparse, but nothing that will—”
“Take the focus and magnificence away from the illusion of god on his throne?”
“Exactly.” She cradled his shaved head between her palms. “We’re already finishing each other’s design sentences. Isn’t that a little freaky?”
“No. It’s fantastic.” He chuckled, drawing his knuckle down her cheek in the way she was quickly growing to love. “Do you think we’ll be able to get started on the model by dinner?”
“I doubt it. We still need to take inventory of what materials we have for the build and what we’ll still need. We may need to go on a supply run. But that said, if we stay on task, maybe we can get started after breakfast tomorrow.”
“Stay on task?” A grin played with the corners of his sexy lips. “Is that your not-so-subtle way of saying, ‘No more sex’, until we’re finished?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she lied.
“That
is
unfortunate.” His hands crept below the hem of her t-shirt, circled her waist and pressed her down on his growing erection. “How am I supposed to concentrate on work with this hard-on?”
“You could start by letting me go,” she suggested even as she tightened her arms around him. “If we’re not so close, we might be able to think about work.”
“Doubt it. If a year apart didn’t change how much I wanted you, I doubt having you across the room wearing little more than my t-shirt will put a dent in my arousal.”
“Yeah, our separation didn’t change how much I wanted you either.” She covered his mouth with hers—but he took immediate control of the kiss.
One hand staying on her waist to keep her firmly against his growing length, the other one cupped around her neck. He kissed like he made love. With complete control, and she quickly slid into the role of his submissive. Strange how easily he’d done that to her.
He pulled back. “Oh you sexy temptress. You say we need to control ourselves then you go and kiss me like that. I thought we had work to do.”
She couldn’t stop her lips from curving into a smile. “We do, but first I want to tell you something.” She rested her forehead against his. “I’m sure you already know this by now, but I didn’t show up at your door the other day just as a means of getting back at Eugene. I just used the exec suite as an excuse to spend time with you. To make love to you.” She kissed his nose. “I know it was stupid, but I was scared. I wanted to know whether the love I’d felt for you was real or a warped form of hero worship brought on by my chemo. I also wanted to know whether or not you felt the same way.”
“Oh Viv.” His eyes softened and he pressed his hands to her cheeks. “Of course I felt the same way, sweetheart.”
“I know that now. I do.” And since they’d broached the subject, she might as well ask something else that had been bothering her. “So why did you leave me back then, Brock?” Stephen’s words from the club came back to her. “Did it have something to do with what Eugene asked you to do?”
He closed his eyes, the pain on his face as palpable as the dimming erection pressing against her sex. Turmoil turned her stomach lining into a nuclear battleground.
“Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Viv. You have to know that, and I didn’t want to. God, I didn’t want to but…”
His voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to do, what to say to him. This conversation was taking a turn she hadn’t expected. And that expression of his. Oh lord that tortured expression. She couldn’t bear to look at it.
She pulled his head to her chest and held him close. His arms turned to vises around her, and for a long time, only the steady rhythm of their combined breathing echoed through the room.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said eventually, his voice so soft she had to strain her ears to hear him. “You have to know that.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she said automatically, even though things were far from okay. “It’s okay” were simply the only words she could conjure.
“No, Viv, it’s not okay. It’s—” He took a shaky breath as if digging deep to find the words to form his next sentence, and when he finally spoke, his words made no sense. “Can I tell you a story?”
“A story?”
“Please, Viv.” His arms threatened to squeeze the breath from her body. “I need to get this out.”
“Okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes to keep tears from escaping.
Why did it suddenly feel as if her life was at a tipping point?
Brock struggled to pull his wits together.
He’d kept the truth from her long enough. She was no longer a sick woman in need of emotional protection. She was alive, vivacious, and she deserved to know what her bastard of a husband had asked of him, what Brock had agreed to do.
He focused solely on the story he needed to spin. With luck, taking on the role of “storyteller” would allow him to distance himself from the torment of emotions long enough to say what needed to be said. “Once upon a time, there was this Duke and Duchess, Lord Ebner and Lady Vala. Lord Ebner was a real asswipe. He put his career and personal desires above everything. Even above the welfare of his beautiful wife. Everyone despised Lord Ebner but adored Lady Vala. She was beautiful, full of fire and life, and she couldn’t help but captivate the heart and mind of any man she met, including the heart of Sir Bart, the Duke’s younger brother.
“Sir Bart was a bit of a troublemaker. He liked to indulge in the darker side of his nature. The Duke thought Sir Bart’s actions brought shame on the family. Sir Bart always said he didn’t care what his older brother thought of him, but deep down, he yearned to make amends to Lord Ebner for all he’d stolen from him.”
Brock wrenched his eyes closed, the truth of his statement reverberating through him. He’d never admitted his yearning out loud. Hell, he’d never admitted it to himself, but it didn’t negate the truth. Despite all the animosity, the lies, the bullshit, the fact Eugene had grown into a complete shithead, Brock still loved his brother and he felt guilty for all he’d stolen.
Eugene hadn’t been the product of an extramarital affair, an affair which had created a broken family. Eugene hadn’t been the only child of a doting mother and father. Eugene hadn’t been the one who’d gotten to grow up in “the perfect family”.
Brock had—something Eugene had never let him forget. Brock had gotten everything except Vivian, and now, god forgive him, he’d taken her too.
Brock held on to Viv for dear life as he continued. “Then one day, Lady Vala grew very ill. The doctors told the Duke his wife had very little chance of surviving her sickness and he should spend as much time with her as possible. But Lord Ebner ignored the doctor’s warning. Instead of spending every precious moment with his wife, he summoned his brother and asked Sir Bart to watch over Lady Vala while she was ill, and Sir Bart accepted.”
“Ex
cuse
me?” She turned to steel in his arms. “You were only there because Eugene
asked
you to stay with me? Oh god, I’m gonna be sick.”
She pushed away from him with more strength than her petite body seemed capable of producing and stumbled toward the chair on the other side of the room. The second her ass made contact, she leaned forward and rested her head between her knees.
Turmoil rolled hot in his stomach and he scrambled after her. He had to make her understand. The situation wasn’t as black and white as it appeared on the surface.
“Of course I wasn’t there
just
because Eugene asked me.” He stroked a hand down her back. “I was there because I—”
“Don’t touch me.” She pushed at him. “You’ve already done enough.”
But he wasn’t about to stop now. “Come on, baby, if you’ll let me explain you’ll see—”
“Explain what?” she spat. “That our entire relationship was built on a lie?”
Her words slammed into his gut and nearly doubled him over. “Of course our relationship’s not built on a lie. Everything we did, everything we shared and felt was real. I love you more than I’ve ever loved—”
“Bullshit.” She rocketed to her feet and slammed into him. Her fists pounded into his chest, over and over. “You didn’t love me. You never loved me. I was just an obligation.”
“Of course you weren’t!” He reined in his temper. Yelling would only make things worse. “Okay, fine. Eugene asked me to watch over you, but I would have done it anyway because I love you.”