Whipped (Hitched, #2)

I pull her legs in front of my chest and slightly cross them, creating a tighter fit for both of us. I begin to increase my speed. With one hand, I play with her tits. She grabs it and bites down on my fingers. Fuck. I let her moan on my fingers as I take her faster than ever, building toward a climax for us both. When she screams my name, I let myself go, coming inside her, falling down from a high that should never end.

I collapse on top of her, and we hold each other.

Vi smiles. "That was different."

"I needed different."

She teases. "Growing tired of me?"

I kiss her nose and pull away, zipping up my jeans. "Never."

"Good." She sits on the table. "Pass my pants." I throw them. She catches. "So, what happened?"

I raise my eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Something made you angry. You fuck harder when you're angry."

Can't argue with that. "My investor pulled out."

"I see, so in retribution you fucked me and didn't pull out once." She laughs for moment. I don't. She stops. "Sorry. That was… sorry." She stands up and grabs her coffee from the counter. "What are you going to do?"

"Find more investors and…" Fuck, who am I kidding? I've already looked. Mrs. Wallace was the only one interested. Apparently, because she misunderstood my goals. Of course, I haven't tried outside of Nevada, but that will take time. I've already spent enough.

"There is one option. I've been offered to tour one more year for two million." The words hurt to say.

Vi freezes, cup halfway to her mouth. "That's a lot of money. Where would you be going?"

"New York. Florida. All over the States."

"If you can't be here, that changes things."

I walk over to her. "I know. I haven't committed to anything yet."

She shrugs. "You should really think about it. Don't let what's going on between us stop you." She acts indifferent, but her body trembles.

I grab her hand. "It's too late for that. You’re a part of my decisions now. I can't pretend like this relationship doesn't matter."

"Then don't, but don't give up your dreams for me."

Dreams? I used to have only one. Helping kids. But now, I have Vi. She snuck inside my picture of the future. She made it more messy and beautiful at once. I wouldn't have it change.

I lock up thoughts of money and business, and turn my attention to something I've been considering. "I ran into Chad the night of the party."

Vi drops her jaw. "Did you have to google how to hide a body?"

I chuckle. "No. We had a good talk. Well, a talk anyway. It got me thinking. We have an amazing sex life—"

"But…" She frowns.

I smile to put her at ease. "But I want to do more things you enjoy, try out the ideas you have. So if you need to do your thing with me…" I brush her cheek with my hand. "I once told you, there might be more pieces to you than you know. I now realize, there might be more pieces to me, too. I'll never know unless I try."





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?"