Page 39

THIRTY-EIGHT

MARA

DECEMBER

“What happened to you?”

Jack walked in with the kids, a superstore bag under his arm, dried blood on the ripped knees of his pants, and paper towels on the heels of his hands.

“Fell in the parking lot. Not a big deal. Aspen had a great game,” he said, trying to change the subject. Not wanting to drill him in front of the kids, I went with it.

“Aspen, did you really? That’s awesome!”

“I scored, Mom!” Aspen said.

“Buddy, I’m so proud.” I bent to give him a hug. “How’d you do, Harper? Jace?”

“I only fell down once!” Jace said.

“Great!” Harper chirped. “And Daddy let us get Frosties.”

“Wow, what a treat, Daddy,” I said. “Why don’t you three go get ready for bed and I’ll be up to read and tuck you in?”

They took off to the upstairs and my focus turned back to Jack. I flipped his hand over and removed the paper towel, examining his wounds. “You just fell?”

Jack wouldn’t look at me. “Clumsy feet. Just tripped over myself.”

“And skidded your hands like this?” I asked, raising a brow. “There are pieces of pavement in here.”

Jack was quiet.

“We promised honesty, Jack.”

His lips pinched together and his voice was low. “Then you need to be honest with me about what we’re doing with sex. I love sex with you but I think we both know what we’re doing now is not what either of us needs.”

Again, a subject change, but I would hold up my honest end of the bargain. “I’m still . . . in my head about it. I like you, Jack, and I’m just being careful that you don’t hurt me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his eyes finally meeting mine. “But I think I need you to hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” I was 90% sure of what he was getting at, but I didn’t want to make the mistake of assuming.

“I feel . . . good when you tell me what to do. Make me hurt. It makes me feel more. And I think it helps you too. So I’m sad we’re not doing that when it’s good for both of us.”

I nodded, choosing my words carefully. He was being very vulnerable with me and I didn’t want to do something to make him shut down. “I do enjoy it. And I like seeing you thrive when I push you. It’s just hard to do that when the emotional part?—”

Jack sucked a shaky breath through his nose that cut me off. “I’m trying, Mara. I’ll keep trying. For now, this has to be enough.”

“For now, it is.” I reached for his wrist. “Thanks for telling me what you need.”

He gave his grimace smile. “Here, open the bag,” he said, turning to get it off the counter. “I got you some things.”

I opened the bag to find a Canon camera box, along with what looked like a tripod and some kind of strap. “Jack, you didn’t.”

“It’s important to you,” he said firmly. “This way we can take a picture when it works for us.”

I sealed him into a tight hug, fighting brimming tears. “Thank you. For listening. For hearing me.”

“See? We’re taking care of each other,” he joked.

I patted his back and pulled away. “We are.” I removed each item out of the bag, turning the strap over in my hands. When I saw the clip on it, I realized what it was.

A collar. A dog collar, but a collar nonetheless.

“Are we getting a dog?” I asked, my words slow and careful.

Jack swallowed hard and looked away. “It’s for me to wear. When I’m bad. For you.” His cheeks were so red under his beard. Poor thing was so scared to ask for what he wanted, and it hurt me to see him so ashamed. I felt bad that I hurt him by having vanilla sex with him since we got married.

I gripped his chin and forced him to look into my eyes. “Have you been bad today, Jack?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I ran my tongue over my teeth, my stomach clenching. “Do you want to get spanked, or do you have something else you want?”

He hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt your hands.”

“Hmm, good point,” I said, looking around the kitchen. An idea sparked. “Why don’t you find something you want me to use on you?”

Jack’s lips fell open and he looked some combination of stunned and entranced. He walked to the drawer with all the kitchen utensils in it. He poked around, unearthing a wooden spoon and holding it up.

“Good choice,” I said.

“Thank you,” Jack said, his eyes darkening. “And I also want you to take pictures.”

I quirked an eyebrow, butterflies coming loose inside me. Jack’s kinks were fun. Very fun. “Alright. Go upstairs and get the kids in bed and I’ll get us set up.”

The camera was on the tripod and pointed at the bed. I had it set up so I could just push a button and it would take a picture every thirty seconds. I felt like that was often enough for it to capture us, but not be intrusive.

And I’d speed-searched the internet for how to be a Domme. I had a basic idea, but I’d never officially done this. Bryce just called me bossy and let me do whatever, but we didn’t have safe words or a color system or anything to keep it from getting out of hand.

In general, I wasn’t that wild with Bryce, holding my freak back other than the occasional spank or holding him down. But since Jack was truly asking for it, I was going to give him what he wanted.

It was really a perfect arrangement for Jack and me. He needed the most help with emotional security, and being his Dominant would give me space to challenge him and let him explore his own boundaries. He was trusting me by asking this, and that meant a lot. We’d been sleeping together less than a month, and he had this tender vulnerability to give up. I’d start with the simple stuff: making him call me ma’am, punishing him for misbehaving, and maybe making him hold his orgasm.

I was getting butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. This could be really fun.

I sat in our ensuite bathroom waiting for him in a black bra and underwear. They weren’t my finest, but they’d give Jack a reason to buy me more nice things.

Because I was correct: he liked that too.

Our bedroom door snicked shut and Jack’s footfalls indicated he was looking for me, first in the closet, then coming toward me in the bathroom. I heard the swish of clothing hitting the floor and my heart picked up. I sat waiting in the bathroom with gauze and bandages to properly take care of his scrapes.

He rounded the corner in just his underwear, a short and tight pair of boxer briefs. I drank in his physique: those defined, meaty, and tan thighs, his impossibly tight hips leading to a ridiculous butt, and a similarly tight upper body, covered in ink.

I crooked my finger to him. “Come here.”

I sat on the bathroom counter and had him stand between my legs, much like the first time we had sex.

“Show me these hands,” I said, and he flipped them up for me to examine. “You going to tell me what happened here?”

“I fell.”

“Hmm,” I said as I placed his hand under cool water, gently washing the edges of the wound. He winced, his chest rising and falling quicker. “You’re not a very clumsy guy, Jack. You run on ice for a living. Are you being honest with me?”

He swallowed hard and watched as I worked, dabbing his injuries with gauze. I was trying to remove any of the excess concrete grit from the wounds. “I’m not ready to be honest,” he said.

I stopped what I was doing, shifting my chin forward. This went beyond him getting hurt, and I did need to address the difficult part. “Jack, my son and stepchildren were with you and you somehow come home injured. How do I know you’re not going to get them hurt?”

Jack sucked a breath through his nose. “They were inside at practice. They were safe.”

I lifted a brow, picking through the different bandage sizes. “Were you not safe?”

Jack’s jaw clicked. “I was fine.”

“We promised to be honest with each other, Jack. Are you in trouble?”

“No. I will tell you, just not until I’m ready.”

“Fair enough,” I said, tipping my head as I fastened first one, then the next bandage. “Show me these knees.”

“I can do it, Mara.”

“Watch your tone,” I warned. “It’s my job to take care of you. Knees up.”

Jack obeyed.

“You look beautiful,” he said, stroking a finger down my side as I tended to his left knee.

“Thank you,” I said, lips curling up. “What are you going to do with these pictures we’re about to take?”

Jack smirked. “Look at them when we’re apart and remember how amazing you are.”

I looked up and stroked a finger under his chin. “You’re a lot sweeter than you pretend to be.”

He guffawed. “I’m not sweet.”

I chuckled. “Maybe not. But I’ll beat you until you are. Go bend over the bed and wait for me.”

“What?” A hint of trepidation mixed with the arousal in Jack’s eyes.

“Do I need to repeat myself, brat? I could make it hands and knees if you really want some pain.”

Jack shook his head and jumped to it, obediently bending over the bed with his face to the side.

I took my time cleaning up my First Aid station, washing my hands before picking up the wooden spoon he’d given me and slowly striding his way.

When I got to his side, I gently stroked the tip of the spoon down his spine. “What a good boy you are for me, Jack, bent over and waiting for your punishment. You know you were bad, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What did you do, Jack?”

“I wasn’t honest with you, ma’am.”

I slapped the wooden spoon against my hand and Jack flinched. “We need to be honest, don’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry I failed you, ma’am,” Jack said, his voice muffled where he pushed his face into the bedding.

“What do you think your punishment should be, Jack?”

“I should eat your pussy and not be able to come unless you let me, ma’am.”

I let out a dark laugh. “Oh, Jackie baby, you have to earn those things.”

I watched as goosebumps erupted on Jack’s back. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. “Give me a color, Jack. Green if you want me to keep going. Yellow if you need to take a break and have me check on you. Red if you need me to step away entirely. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m green now, ma’am.”

“Good boy. You’re going to take this so well,” I cooed, rubbing the wooden spoon against his ass cheek. “But first, let’s get you dressed. Lift your head.”

Jack looked back, confused, but then looked relieved as I clipped the collar around his neck. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, a very un-Jack-like reverence in his voice. “I just want to be good for you.”

“You are, Jackie. But sometimes you still slip up, and for that, we have to punish you.”

“Yes, ma’am. I deserve it,” he said, and it was hard to miss the excitement in his tone.

“I’m going to give you ten. You’re going to count each one and thank me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I lifted the spoon, bringing down onto his right side with a satisfying smack. “One, thank you, ma’am.”

“Good. Keep going, Jack.”

We continued on, with me delivering the blows and Jack taking them and counting them. I barely registered the occasional click of the camera, knowing it had to be getting some top-notch pictures. On number eight, Jack’s number came out as a weak whimper.

“Give me a color, Jack.”

“Green,” he stuttered.

“You’re doing so well, Jack. Almost there. Then you get a reward.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

I went extra hard on the last two hits. “Does that feel better, Jackie?”

“Yes,” he said. I placed gentle kisses over his reddened cheeks, soothing the skin with my hands.

“When you’re ready, you can sit up and turn around.”

When Jack lifted his face and sat on the bed, there were tears on his face and a rock-hard erection protruding from his lap. Without asking, Jack wrapped his arms around my middle, resting his face against my breasts. I put one hand on the back of his head to hold him to my chest.

“You’re so good, Jack. Was that hard for you?”

“It felt good, but—” He never finished his sentence.

“I know, baby,” I said. “Do you want to skip the reward?”

Jack’s head snapped up to look at me. “What? No!”

“Really?” I asked. “You’re green?”

“Green,” he said. “I feel better than I have in a long time.”

I kissed him, starting softly but he quickly built us to a more fevered passion. “Lie back on the middle of the bed, close to the headboard, and let me use your face, Jackie.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a wicked grin.

I stood so he could reposition himself and moved the camera. I crawled onto the bed and with the sweetest expression, Jack helped me position myself over his face. I would have told him to hold the headboard or keep his hands to himself, but he cupped my ass in his hands and aided my grinding in a way that felt so damn good, I couldn’t have stopped him if I tried.

Every time I looked down, he was either watching me or completely immersed, devouring me like I was food, water, clothes, and shelter. He found a rhythm that had my eyes pinched shut while I begged him not to stop, his beard making me more sensitive. Right as I was almost there, his hand came up to grip mine, providing that little extra emotional support as he brought me over the edge.

I collapsed, sitting back on his chest as he lay there, slackjawed with his pupils blown wide. The camera clicked and I knew that would be my favorite one: Jack and I watching each other in awe.

“I should maybe not sit on your chest, I guess,” I laughed.

“Sit there as long as you need to, sweetheart,” Jack said. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”

I used my thumb to clear some of my arousal from around his lips. “I can think of something else to sit on.”

Jack laughed, one of those breathy hot-guy laughs. “I won’t stop you.”

He helped me get rearranged with my knees straddling his hips. Without much preamble, I sank down onto his cock to Jack’s satisfied groan.

“Thank you,” he whimpered.

I propped one hand next to his head, using the other to stroke his cheek. “You’re so sweet for me.”

“I can be not sweet,” he offered.

“Do you want to find out what happens when you do that?”

Jack’s lips hooked upward on one side. “Fuck yeah.”

He sat up a little, reaching for my bra clasp, and once freed, practically ripped my bra from my body. I covered my breasts with my forearms. “I didn’t tell you you could do that.”

“I don’t fucking care,” he taunted me.

“Aww.” I slid my fingers along his scalp, then tightened them at the back of his head to his hiss. My other hand tweaked his nipple. “You might start to care.”

“Fucking Christ, Mara,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

“Aw, it sounds like you want to come. Is that right, Jack?”

“Yes, please.” A hand cupped my breast with the other gripping my hip. “Ma’am, please, I was so good.”

“Oh, is that right? I forgot because you misbehaved just now.”

Jack shook his head with his mouth hanging open, panting. “Mar, I can’t?—”

“Make me come and you can come with me,” I said.

“Fuck,” Jack whimpered, sending a frantic hand to my clit. “Like this?”

I slowed my strokes on top of him, riding him like the bull he was, and together, we rutted our way to release.

“That’s it, Jack. Let go with me.”

The guttural noise that came out of that man as his cock pulsed inside me was earthshaking.

“I . . . thought I was going to get sick for a minute,” he said. “Mara. What the fuck.”

I dipped to kiss him. “You were perfect. So fucking good, Jack.” I wiggled his collar. “And this looks good on you.”

He preened under my praise, and he gripped me with such sweet desperation as we came down. I didn’t even get up to clean us up for a few minutes, just lying on top of him, still joined, still sweaty, enjoying the thunder of his heart and the pressure of his kisses on the top of my head.

He may not have been ready to love me, but he said, “Don’t ever make me live without you.”