Wishes (13 page)

“Honey, relax, push back and outward,” he told her.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. C’mon, Graham, I’m done with this waiting.”

Graham’s eyebrows arched into his hair. All right then. He fitted his cock to her rosebud and pushed without pause. He slid right past the muscle and in deep, the lube smoothing the way. She felt so hot and tight. She lay placid and relaxed under him, and he enjoyed the moment. Most women would be fighting it, bucking, and it took away from the sensation. Kennedy was a gem. Then she clenched, and he nearly winced at the pressure.

“Graham, you have the cock, remember?” Kennedy’s voice was strained and impatient.

Graham pulled back and nearly out of her body then surged back in, over and over. Kennedy arched back into him and moaned and whimpered into the bedding, her fists clenching. Graham went for broke. He pulled all the way out and shoved back inside several times, then waited for her opening to nearly close before doing it again. Kennedy was screaming by then and rocking against the pillow. He surged deep, his balls slamming against her labia. He forced a hand between them. Kennedy’s hand was already there, and they dueled for contact with her clit. Graham shoved a finger up her when she won the contest and bellowed his own release as she went over, her muscles squeezing the life out of him. Holy fuck. He couldn’t breathe, and his temples had probably burst.

Graham slid beside her, their combined sweat making little slurpy sounds as his skin parted from hers. She lay there, splayed, sucking in air. After a time, Graham pushed himself up and staggered to the bathroom to clean up. Kennedy was fast asleep when he got back, but he washed her, too, and pressed a kiss to the small of her back. He worked her little frame up farther and climbed in beside her, wrapping an arm around her sweaty belly, simply enjoying his good fortune. He loved this little woman. His little woman. She was the whole package.

* * * *

The next several months were a learning experience for everyone. Patrick found it difficult to relinquish any part of the business at first, despite wanting to have more time alone with Madison. He and Kennedy squared off on many occasions until she earned his trust. Then, perhaps with the relief of knowing things were getting done properly and on time with only his minimal direction and attention to those matters requiring it, Patrick backed off.

Kennedy was amazed at the number of holdings Patrick had, and arranging more efficient records streamlined his business. She privately wondered if Graham knew how successful and wealthy Patrick was but kept Patrick’s business confidential from everyone, including Madi. She and Madi saw one another mostly in the morning when Graham and Patrick were sleeping after working all night, and she relished the personal time with her friend. Alberta had moved in with her “switch” and seemed oblivious to any of the other people in her world. Madi was hurt by Ally’s abandonment, but Kennedy was far more understanding and less impacted. Ally would be back once the novelty wore off, and Madi would forget how hurt she had been until Alberta pulled the same shit the next time. Although, Patrick might have something to say about that friendship. Kennedy wouldn’t allow anyone to control her life the way Patrick did Madi’s, but Madison had never appeared so content and happy. She actually gained a few pounds and, while she still looked tremendous, no longer had that frenetic manner about her. Madi was in love, was well loved and cherished. Kennedy ignored her own envy. She had fallen in love with Graham, probably the day he tended to her sunburn and sore feet. She would never have given up her apartment, sold off the few things she had kept from her childhood because they wouldn’t fit in the living quarters at the club, and cancelled her job interviews and refused the offer she had received from the oil company, unless she was willing to take a chance on a long-term relationship with Graham. Because she loved him. She liked the sex and some of the kink, but it was the whole man who drew her. He seemed to be just who he appeared to be, a
take me as you find me
kind of guy, and honest, caring, and fair. Kennedy had figured out that Graham lived for the present and the future. She loved him without reserve and trusted him wholeheartedly.

They fought from time to time, and she was aware that the whole club knew about their disagreements. The odd time it was because Graham pushed her too hard and wouldn’t listen until she tuned him in, but mostly it was about his tendency to meddle in her life and choices. He didn’t tell her what to wear. The club had a dress code, so she really only needed a couple of casual changes and a nice evening outfit for those occasions when they had time off together. He didn’t tell her how to invest or save her money. He didn’t tell her how to wear her hair or what makeup to use. It was more his assumption that he always knew what was best for her. If Kennedy was totally honest with herself all the time, she would likely concur with Graham. He always had her best interest at heart. It was just his highhanded Dom attitude that accompanied his meddling. But they argued, then they worked it out and were happy together. If Kennedy wanted more from the relationship, she closed her mind to it. Graham would tell her he loved her if and when he meant it. She wouldn’t be the first woman in history to be patient and wait for her man to tumble to that fact. Kennedy had always taken risks, and while she knew that being rejected by Graham would devastate her, she was willing to take the chance that he would never do so.

Graham tended to paddle her ass when she didn’t speak up, when she didn’t ask for what she needed, when she retreated from him in anger or with hurt feelings. It felt strange to be forced to communicate because of a spanking, but the makeup sex was even better. He kept trying to introduce her to the lifestyle in tiny increments, and Kennedy sometimes went along, although her rules were hard and fast. No cameras, no observers. Sex, even kinky sex, with Graham was personal and intimate. He never challenged her rules until one evening a few months after she had moved in. Graham convinced her to allow him to put her on the St. Andrew’s cross.

Kennedy had had a long, tiring day sorting out some issues with one of Patrick’s side businesses. She personally didn’t think the IT company was worth the time and effort. Techs were a bunch of prima donnas by the very dint of their profession. They didn’t take direction well, mostly because they didn’t listen, being too focused on their technology. Patrick expected the staff to fall in line, and it was like a thorn in his side. Kennedy had finally worked out a compromise but knew it would be an uneasy truce. She had joined Graham for a quiet dinner in the club atrium, and he decided she should relax. Kennedy knew what that meant to Graham. She would have preferred a long soak in the hot tub, followed by a massage and maybe some vanilla sex. But not Graham. She was too tired to think up convincing excuses, and the next thing she knew she was naked and bound to the cross. She had resisted it so far, although had made the acquaintance of the spanking bench and the stocks. She didn’t really like the paddle, although the soft flogger touched her somehow.

“If you hurt me, Graham, I’ll wait until you are dead asleep and you won’t like what you’ll wake up to,” she threatened.

Graham laughed. He was wearing his leathers and nothing else, as he circled her and examined her naked form.

“Threats from a woman hanging, restrained on the cross, honey. Tsk, tsk.” He chortled.

Kennedy watched as he took a huge dildo from the wall cabinet. Oh boy. That was going to stretch her a little. He lubed it and filled her. Kennedy gasped and took some time to adjust, while Graham played with her breasts. She had just settled when he showed her the nipple clamps.

“Babe, not those, not now, please,” she nearly whined.

She had a log up her pussy, and he was going to flog her next. Enough. Graham suckled her until her nipples were elongated enough to take the clover clamps. Kennedy hissed at the pain, arching and trying to dislodge him. He gently licked the tips, and the pain diminished and a warm flush replaced it, spreading down over her belly to her sex. Kennedy waited for the blindfold, but Graham must have thought the sensations were enough for her to experience without it. He stepped behind her, and she heard the whistle of the single tail. Holy shit. He was going to lash her. Not whip her with those nice, supple leather tails of the flogger.

“Graham!” she screamed. “Not…”

The first lash hit her shoulder, and a fine line of warmth and sting lanced across it. The second followed before she could take another breath to demand that he stop. The third, fourth, and fifth were laid in increments down her back to her buttocks, and by then Kennedy wasn’t counting anymore, just feeling. Her vagina, stretched as it was, clenched hard on the rubber toy, and her nipples pulsed. She felt alive and rejuvenated and wondered at it. Her plan to fix Graham’s wagon later might have contributed, but when he began to lay stripes across her buttocks, Kennedy found herself going someplace else. Intellectually, she knew it was endorphins creating the high and, for a moment, panicked. She was afraid of dissociating. But that was when she was alone. Graham was here with her. She would be okay. So she gave over to the moment. When he came around to lash her breasts and belly, Kennedy was moaning for the touch, nearly begging. She wanted to come, to experience it all, and vaguely heard Graham promising her soon.

She felt the presence of someone else in the room, and her eyes flew open. Graham was striping her back and buttocks again, more fiercely, and her concentration was slipping as she arched and begged. Patrick was there, in front of her, his eyes hot and admiring. Kennedy wanted to tell him to get out, to leave, that she was naked for God’s sake, but he reached to her sex and held the vibe in his hand to her clit while Graham laid a final hard lash across her thighs. Kennedy shattered into a million pieces and seconds later went over again when Patrick released the clamps as Graham wrapped his arms around her waist to support her.

When Kennedy next opened her eyes, she was cuddled on Graham’s lap. He was kissing her hair and murmuring nonsense. She was exhausted if relaxed, although her nipples were sore and her skin tingled and felt tight. Graham lifted her and strode to their quarters. Kennedy just knew the security guard was getting an eyeful and that they probably passed clients in the hallway, but she didn’t care at that moment. Graham set her on the bed on her side and left for a moment to return with a cool, soothing lotion that he smoothed over her breasts and belly. He then addressed the skin on her back, buttocks, and thighs.

“I wish you could see your skin, Kennedy,” he murmured. “You mark beautifully. So pink. But don’t worry, honey, there won’t be anything there in the morning, aside from a little tenderness.”

Kennedy didn’t answer him. She had to face Patrick in the morning. Graham she would deal with. When she had some strength. Patrick was a different matter, being her boss and all. But he wasn’t getting away with this scot-free. She didn’t care if it was his business, his profession. She was his PA, and his PA’s nipples and clit were none of his business. Jesus.

Patrick acted like nothing had changed when she saw him at breakfast the next day. She knew he hadn’t said anything to Madi because she could read Madi like an open book. Small mercies. Kennedy waited for hours until she had a moment alone with Patrick.

“Patrick, I need to speak to you,” she began.

“Kennedy?” he answered. “It will never happen again unless you wish it. And if you are honest, it was amazing. You are absolutely beautiful in submission, my dear, and Graham is a lucky man.”

Kennedy was bereft of speech for the first time in her life. She wanted to smack her boss, hard. Sure, the experience had been amazing. But he was her boss, and he had seen her, not just naked, but naked and bound, being whipped. And he had brought her off, twice.

“It’s what I do, Kennedy,” Patrick reminded her, obviously reading her thoughts. “No need to thank me.”

Kennedy nearly launched herself at him and then burst into laughter. Who would ever have thought that she would be working in a sex club and enjoying the benefits?

“Thanks for the one-time-only deal,” she managed.

Patrick raised an eyebrow and smiled. Bastard. She stormed out of his office and sulked in hers for the afternoon.

* * * *

Graham, on the other hand, was fighting prickles of anxiety and anticipation. His little woman hadn’t mentioned her evening on the cross or Patrick’s involvement. It had bothered Graham to have Patrick touch Kennedy, even with a vibe, and even to just release the clamps. Having Patrick see her in her amazing submission was a different story. Sharing that experience meant everything to Graham. It made it forever, having a witness. But he didn’t want anyone else to touch her. She belonged to him. Patrick had reluctantly agreed to help and allowed that he might ask Graham to assist with Madi on occasion, but both men had a silent agreement about the touching. There was no need for words. But Kennedy wouldn’t talk about it with him, and he knew she was either sublimating or plotting revenge. He didn’t like either idea. He hadn’t even had his own release that night with his woman, although he had taken care of himself in the shower. Surely that was worth a few brownie points.