Whipped (Hitched #2)(28)

CHAPTER 17





VI


I don't want Lach to leave. But I don't want to tell him to stay. Because I don't want to be the woman who ruins her lover's life by getting him to give up his dreams for her. Or something like that.

I'm really trying not to think about it.

It hurts too much. It scares me. Which is why tonight is the perfect time to be the Mistress again. And why I'm so grateful that Lachlan suggested this. Not that what we have in bed—and really on any surface we can find—hasn't been completely, unbelievably mind-blowing. It has.

But this is who I am too, and I can't give this up entirely, even for Lach.

So I'm ready. When he gets home everything will be set up for a night of kink and bondage.

But first, the food. I'm going to prove to him I can carry my own weight in our roommate/relationship arrangement, and that I can follow instructions to make dinner.

Tonight I've made us homemade macaroni and cheese, baked, with a salad bar. Can't go wrong with that, right?

I greet him with a kiss when he comes home and guide him to the candlelit table I've set up for us. He raises an eyebrow. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

I sit across from him and put a cloth napkin on my lap. "Oh, this isn't the Dom part. This is the girlfriend date part. The Dom part comes after dinner. Wait until you see the bedroom."

He glances toward the hallway with a bemused expression and then turns back to me. "And you cooked?"

I nod.

"From scratch?"

I nod again.

He sniffs the plate. "Seems okay. Looks great. I'm… impressed," he says, as if he's asking a question.

"Hey now, I'm not totally useless in the kitchen. I just got distracted the night I made the pasta."

"Distracted? That's what you call dumping an entire jar of chili pepper into the sauce and burning the garlic bread to small black disks?"

"It's Cajun style." I sip my wine, take a bite of the salad and smile.

We eat in comfortable companionship as I ask him about his day and how the funding for the center is going.

"No progress to report, but I'm not giving up."

"I'm glad." I take a big bite of the mac and cheese. It doesn't taste like I think it should, but that's probably from using goat milk instead of cow. I had to improvise when I realized I bought the wrong jug at the store the other day.

As the candles burn down and we finish our dinner, I stand and lead him to the bedroom. "Once we enter this room, I am in control. You will call me Mistress and do as I say, no questions. Understood?"

He nods.

"Are you ready for this?" I don't want to break my boyfriend just for some kink, but I'm revved up and anxious to do this, so I hope he says yes, and I hope I believe him, because if I don't, we can't do it. That's always been my rule.

"Yes, Vi, I'm ready for this."

I believe him. "Go into the room and wait for me. I'll be there shortly."

While he waits, I change into my Dom uniform. Spiked red heels. Black leather mini-skirt and a black lace corset. And I bring the whip.

His eyes get big when I come in, and so does his cock. So far, so good.

Butterflies dance in my stomach as I tell him to take off his clothes and then handcuff him to the bed. When I blindfold him, he smiles. "Turnabout's fair play," he says.

I gently lash his thigh with the leather whip. "Mistress," I remind him.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy."

I straddle him and enjoy the feeling of being in control again. Though my mind flicks back to the nights he took me hard and fast, and I know he's changed me. I'll never be 'just' the Dom again.

And I realize I'm okay with that.

I tease him with feathers and whips, with teeth and tongue, tantalizing his senses as I take control of his body and make him beg for more.

It's exhilarating.

His cock is hard and throbbing when I finally mount him. I'm still wearing my black leather skirt, but it's more of a belt now, and there's nothing under it. I tease his tip with my wet *, taking him in just a bit, then pulling off, over and over, as he moans and tries to thrust his hips for more. I whip him again, lightly, but with a sting. "I'll give you more when I decide."

When he settles down, I drop my hips fully onto his cock, taking his shaft entirely. He fills me, stretches me, and I want more, but I want to torture him too. So I pull off and tease the tip again. I take off my corset and let my nipples fall against his lips. He's still blindfolded, but I can tell he's enjoying the extra play.

When neither of us can take it anymore, I give us both everything. Riding him hard and fast. Deeply, completely, until we both come.

I'm about to start it again, teasing, torturing, arousing him until he's hard once more, when my stomach rolls over, and I realize the butterflies I've been feeling aren't from nerves.

"Oh my God, I have to go!"

I run into the bathroom and can't even close the door before I'm vomiting all over the floor, the sink and finally into the toilet. I'm dying. Absolutely dying. Someone tried to kill me, and now I'm dying.

"Vi? You okay? What's going on?"

I can't talk yet, my stomach is still heaving everything I've ever eaten since I was two. When I catch a breath, I scream at him. "Sick. So sick. Oh God!"