the lessons would be fresh in my head.
“That,” he said, head tilting down to mine, “makes no sense.” His lips puckered and he planted a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Through submission, you’ll gain self-worth. I will break you down to build you up. Don’t think I’ve forgotten our little table talk just yet.”
“I hope not,” he sighed. “You really think you can teach me to get those assholes to listen to what I have to say?”
I nodded. “That, or I’ll march up to them and tell them to listen. I can be very persuasive.” Giving him a sly wink, I grabbed his hard ass and pinched. “When do you leave?” I asked.
He gulped. “Tomorrow night.”
I slinked my hand down his back, in full view of his staring grandmother. “Looks like we’re going to have more lessons than merely handling Johnny. Maybe we should find someplace private.”
“It’s like you read my mind,” he responded.
I shrugged. “I can’t read minds,” I purred, nuzzling his chest, “but I have other clever tricks in my pocket.” And by pocket I mean my phone with Sarah and her experience at the other end.
He tucked his finger under my chin. “I had a feeling.” His eyes met mine, and I nearly melted. This was so new, so fresh, and I couldn’t wait to be alone. Then his eyes drifted over my shoulder and I felt his body go stiff.
And not in a good way.
“Crap. Don’t turn around,” he whispered. “It’s my ex.”
The silly, insecure girl who once controlled me stayed quiet. My inner Domme had pressed her lips shut. I didn’t even turn around to see what the ex looked like. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, pinching Aston’s butt again and walking back to our table triumphant. I wouldn’t let any of them get the best of either of us.
I grabbed my purse and crooked my finger to Aston. “Come closer,” I whispered, and he bent toward my face. I looked around the tent, feeling the intense impulse to whisk him out of view and school him. I wanted privacy, and I wanted his pants around his ankles. I pictured him pleading, begging, worshipping. Fuck. How could I do that here?
One side of the tent was open and faced the water. There was a small boathouse far off to the left, close to the entrance. “Get out of here,” I whispered.
“I’m so sorry about my grandmother. And my ex. Please don’t leave. I thought—”
“Go to the boat house.” I shot him a conspiratorial look. “I’m going to the car to get a shawl. Then, once enough time has passed since you’ve gone into the boathouse, I’ll join you. Okay?”
He nodded, a smile creeping up one side of his face. He pointed in the right direction.
“Good boy,” I mouthed, and walked away, feeling like I was no longer faking it. I was fucking living it.
I draped the cream pashmina shawl around my shoulders. The ocean breeze was cool and quite frankly, I was done with people staring at my collarbone and arms, where the majority of my tattoos were drawn. Derek was a fantastic tattoo artist, and while I hated the man now, he did create some amazing work on my body. I remember the thrill of feeling his hand on me while he drew the designs, and the way my skin heated at his touch.
I regretted the relationship, but not the ink that was left behind.
I took a moment to wander the grounds, taking in the beauty of the estate at sunset. It was quite romantic, and while the day had had a few speed bumps, I was really excited to be with Aston, if just for tonight. Maybe a month would give us time to think about what we really wanted, considering both our lives were in flux. We both needed a change, freedom. Could we find it together?
I tried to ignore all the tingling sensations coursing through my body. It wasn’t fight-or-flight time, it was do or don’t. I wanted Aston, but was I really ready to dominate? If he was indeed interested in repentance, I’d discover his intentions now.
I crossed the sprawling green lawn with conviction, ready for
“That,” he said, head tilting down to mine, “makes no sense.” His lips puckered and he planted a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Through submission, you’ll gain self-worth. I will break you down to build you up. Don’t think I’ve forgotten our little table talk just yet.”
“I hope not,” he sighed. “You really think you can teach me to get those assholes to listen to what I have to say?”
I nodded. “That, or I’ll march up to them and tell them to listen. I can be very persuasive.” Giving him a sly wink, I grabbed his hard ass and pinched. “When do you leave?” I asked.
He gulped. “Tomorrow night.”
I slinked my hand down his back, in full view of his staring grandmother. “Looks like we’re going to have more lessons than merely handling Johnny. Maybe we should find someplace private.”
“It’s like you read my mind,” he responded.
I shrugged. “I can’t read minds,” I purred, nuzzling his chest, “but I have other clever tricks in my pocket.” And by pocket I mean my phone with Sarah and her experience at the other end.
He tucked his finger under my chin. “I had a feeling.” His eyes met mine, and I nearly melted. This was so new, so fresh, and I couldn’t wait to be alone. Then his eyes drifted over my shoulder and I felt his body go stiff.
And not in a good way.
“Crap. Don’t turn around,” he whispered. “It’s my ex.”
The silly, insecure girl who once controlled me stayed quiet. My inner Domme had pressed her lips shut. I didn’t even turn around to see what the ex looked like. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, pinching Aston’s butt again and walking back to our table triumphant. I wouldn’t let any of them get the best of either of us.
I grabbed my purse and crooked my finger to Aston. “Come closer,” I whispered, and he bent toward my face. I looked around the tent, feeling the intense impulse to whisk him out of view and school him. I wanted privacy, and I wanted his pants around his ankles. I pictured him pleading, begging, worshipping. Fuck. How could I do that here?
One side of the tent was open and faced the water. There was a small boathouse far off to the left, close to the entrance. “Get out of here,” I whispered.
“I’m so sorry about my grandmother. And my ex. Please don’t leave. I thought—”
“Go to the boat house.” I shot him a conspiratorial look. “I’m going to the car to get a shawl. Then, once enough time has passed since you’ve gone into the boathouse, I’ll join you. Okay?”
He nodded, a smile creeping up one side of his face. He pointed in the right direction.
“Good boy,” I mouthed, and walked away, feeling like I was no longer faking it. I was fucking living it.
I draped the cream pashmina shawl around my shoulders. The ocean breeze was cool and quite frankly, I was done with people staring at my collarbone and arms, where the majority of my tattoos were drawn. Derek was a fantastic tattoo artist, and while I hated the man now, he did create some amazing work on my body. I remember the thrill of feeling his hand on me while he drew the designs, and the way my skin heated at his touch.
I regretted the relationship, but not the ink that was left behind.
I took a moment to wander the grounds, taking in the beauty of the estate at sunset. It was quite romantic, and while the day had had a few speed bumps, I was really excited to be with Aston, if just for tonight. Maybe a month would give us time to think about what we really wanted, considering both our lives were in flux. We both needed a change, freedom. Could we find it together?
I tried to ignore all the tingling sensations coursing through my body. It wasn’t fight-or-flight time, it was do or don’t. I wanted Aston, but was I really ready to dominate? If he was indeed interested in repentance, I’d discover his intentions now.
I crossed the sprawling green lawn with conviction, ready for
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