His Perfect Submissive Page 10

  His words echoed in her mind as he held her, wiping her tears and rocking her in the stillness of the cabin's living room while the fire died down to embers in the grate.

  She did trust him, she'd told him more than she'd ever told anyone, including her parents about what had happened during her imprisonment. She knew she could get used to him cradling her against his chest, giving her the understanding her soul thirsted for.

  If only she deserved what he offered. But she didn't. She'd lied to him. She was still lying to him.

  It wouldn't be fair to take his gentleness and understanding without being able to reciprocate. And she couldn't. Even if by some miracle she was able to get through the sex act without a panic attack the threat of one coming out of the blue because of some scent, some seemingly minor action, would always be there. Slade deserved better than what she could offer.

  She drifted on the bleakness of her thoughts, wondering how she could make Slade understand that he needed to let her go, that she couldn't give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

  Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed her worry and a fitful sleep claimed her.

  * * * *

  "Kara, sweetheart, it's time to go to bed.” She heard Slade's voice, a soft reassuring rumble close to her ear. The sound of her own whimpers and the dark images that had filled her dreams dissolved as she sat up feeling groggy and disoriented.

  "You okay? You were having a bad dream,” Slade said as he shifted beneath her, pushing her hair back away from her face.

  She yawned and sighed sleepily. She was so tired her bones ached and she felt sadness clear to the center of her being. She didn't feel okay. She didn't think she'd ever feel okay again, but that was how the panic attacks and the aftermath of the nightmares usually left her.

  Slade urged her off his lap, and stood up behind her as soon as she was upright. “Come on, to bed with you,” he said putting his hands on her shoulders and urging her toward the darkened bedroom. If he'd left her on her own she'd have sunk back into the recently vacated chair and gone back to sleep.

  She was barely aware of walking to the bedroom and only vaguely aware of stopping near the bedside as Slade released her shoulders and moved around beside her. She was dimly aware of the play of fire that still glowed in the fireplace grate casting dancing shadows and light over him. The light cast him in a warm glow that illuminated a strong muscular hip and rippling shoulders as he shifted to draw the blanket and the sheet back.

  She watched spellbound as he turned toward her, the firelight casting shadows across the hard planes of his chest. Her gaze dipped lower caressing the flatness of his belly and his cock that rested flacid in a thatch of curly pubic hair.

  She caught her breath, embarrassment sweeping her. She felt suddenly intimidated by the bed and by Slade's large, solid body next to her and by her own nudity beneath the folds of the quilt that covered her.

  "In you get,” Slade said, seemingly completely undisturbed by his own nudity or hers as he raised the sheet and blanket so that she could crawl into the bed beneath them.

  She turned toward him, her teeth embedded in her lower lip as she lifted her gaze to his face and kept it fixed there.

  Shyness and confusion mingled, stretching her nerves tighter as she stood eying him hesitantly while he waited for her to climb into the bed.

  It was silly she knew, given the way she had opened her legs and writhed beneath his mouth as he had taken intimate control of her body giving her the ultimate pleasure. Still, she felt shy about dropping the quilt and climbing naked into bed. She wasn't used to being naked. Even when she was alone she wore a nightgown or a robe.

  She nibbled her lip. She wanted to avoid the big bed all together, and she especially wanted to avoid it when they were both naked. She opened her mouth to tell him she'd sleep on the couch.

  "If you're thinking of suggesting you sleep on the loveseat or in the recliner, don't,” Slade said. One look at the determination that marked his expression had her dropping the quilt and climbing into the bed like an obedient child.

  "I'll get you something to help you sleep,” he said, smoothing the covers down around her as she settled into the softness of the big bed.

  She watched the play of firelight over the tight muscles of his perfectly rounded ass as he padded naked into the bathroom.

  He returned a moment later with a paper cup filled with water. “What is this?” she asked as she sat up in the bed, holding the sheet and blanket to her chest as she took the tablet he held out to her.

  "Tylenol PM. It'll help you sleep and help keep the nightmares away.” How does he know about the nightmares, she wondered as she swallowed the tablet and handed him back the empty cup. She was thankful for his caring treatment even if she knew she didn't deserve it and couldn't give back anything even close.

  "Thanks,” she said softly as she settled back in the bed, moving to the far side, as far away from him and the embarrassing memories of their sexual encounter as the bed would allow.

  New embarrassment coursed through her as he turned away with the cup. She needed him to leave a light on in the bathroom so that if she woke up in the night she would see some light, so her first thought on waking wasn't the panic that stemmed from believing she was back in the pitch black of the basement where she'd been kept.

  She rolled words around in her mind, struggling with how to ask him for the little bit of light she needed but shame and mortification washed through her. How could she admit that at twenty-seven she was still afraid to sleep in the dark?

  She left the question of the light and how to ask him to leave one on dangling as his deep voice cut into her thoughts.

  "Roll onto your tummy and I'll rub your back till you fall asleep,” Slade said softly.

  She rolled to her belly, propping her head on her folded arms as Slade moved into the bed beside her.

  "You're too nice to me,” she said softly as his warm, gentle hands began to caress her back.

  "It assuages my guilt a little,” he said as his hands made smaller and then larger circles on her back.

  "You don't have any reason to feel guilty,” she murmured.

  "If I hadn't pushed you into marriage so quickly we would have gotten to know each other better before things got sexual. With a little more time you might have felt comfortable telling me about ... what happened. If I'd known I would have been more careful and I wouldn't have hurt you."

  She felt sadness and guilt settle into her belly. “It's my fault, I should have told you."

  "There's enough blame for both of us,” Slade said as he slid his hands up between her shoulder blades, and across her shoulders. She marveled that he wasn't angry, that he wasn't blaming her for ruining their honeymoon, that he wasn't shouting at her for being a fraud, that he was rubbing her back, giving her pleasure when he had every reason to be angry.

  She felt her tension easing, slipping away as he slid warm hands down her back and back up again. His strokes were slow, purposeful, calming. She relaxed beneath the comforting caress as she let her mind and body drift toward drug induced sleep.

  "Slade?” she asked sleepily after a long silence.

  "What honey?” he answered softly.

  "When you said I could trust you and take what you were offering, what did you mean?” she slurred her words as the calming strokes on her back and the sleeping pill he had given her combined to ease her toward sleep.

  Chapter 9

  The cloying, pungent smell of aftershave mingled with the smell of death assaulted Kara. She sank back against the cold cement blocks, trying in vain to make herself invisible against the basement wall. She prayed he would leave her alone, but of course he didn't. He never left her alone.

  He leaned over her, leering, his intent to do it again clear in his expression. She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped trembling arms tight around them to hold them there in a feeble attempt to protect herself.

  She hated him. She despised what he had done to her a
nd loathed him even more for what he'd done to Kayla.

  He knocked her to the side with one large open palm that connected with the side of her already badly bruised face. He pried her legs apart. She cried, and kicked as hard as she could as she screamed at him to leave her alone. She felt herself smothering, losing her breath as she wondered if he was going to kill her like he'd killed Kayla.

  "Shh—Kara honey, you're having another bad dream."

  Slade. Just as she recognized the touch and the voice the nightmare broke apart and fell away leaving only the scattered remnants of the dream.

  "You're okay sweetheart. You were having another bad dream.” He pulled her into the curve of his body, so that her back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and anchored her against the warmth and safety of his body.

  "Relax honey, you're okay. I have you.” He whispered the soft words as he nuzzled the back of her neck, his lips grazing her shoulder.

  "You're okay. Nobody's going to hurt you. You're safe."

  His mouth continued to spread little kisses over her shoulders.

  She ached with exhaustion and she knew he had to be tired too. This wasn't the first time she'd woken him during this night that seemed a thousand hours long. She remembered waking to find him pulling her close, whispering sweet gentle things in her ear and against her skin as he'd kissed her earlier in the night. “I'm sorry Slade. I should go sleep in the other room so I won't keep waking you."

  "I want you here with me Kara."

  "You'll never get any sleep if I stay here,” she said softly. “I always have a string of nightmares after I have a panic attack. It's like the attack opens the gates of hell and all the bad stuff that happened comes out.” She drew a deep breath. “I can't help it. It just happens. Let me sleep on the love seat, please."

  "No, Kara.” His voice was firm as it had been when he'd ordered her to get into the bed what seemed like hours before.

  "Then will you let me turn on the light in the bathroom? I—um—I need to sleep with a light on.” Embarrassment cut through her.

  "I'll turn on the light, you stay put,” he ordered as he shifted away from her and climbed out of bed. He turned on the light in the bathroom and adjusted the door so that it provided a reassuring shaft of light without glaring into the room.

  "Thanks Slade,” she sighed as he got back into bed and pulled her against him. She put herself through the exercises that usually helped ease the tension left from a nightmare. She started at her feet, reminding herself to relax each part of her body as she moved mentally up from her feet to focus on her calves and then her thighs. She moved her attention upward through the rest of her body, reminding each part to loosen and release its tension. By the time she finished the mental exercise she was relaxed against Slade but feeling wideawake.

  "How often do you have panic attacks?” he asked, his voice soft against the back of her ear.

  "Not very often, but I hate having them so any is too many."

  He held her in the silence, not saying anything. “Why didn't you tell me about them Kara?” he asked after awhile.

  She shrugged, thinking back to why she hadn't told him when they were in the SUV, or later when they'd been on the loveseat, before he carried her to the bed. “After you—we—-” She sighed, took a deep breath and started again. “After we stopped at the restaurant I thought maybe I'd be able to—I thought maybe I could get through sex without having one. I thought maybe I wouldn't have to tell you."

  Slade was silent awhile, his breath slow as it ruffled the hair near her ear.

  "I'm sorry. I know I should have told you, but they're embarrassing. They make me feel weak and sick and—and I didn't want you to know."

  He was quiet for a while, as his breath brushed the back of her neck. “I understand why you didn't tell me.” His voice was quiet and without judgment.

  She was silent, absorbing his calmness, marveling that he wasn't angry with her and that he didn't seem hurt that she had chosen not to tell him.

  She frowned into the pre-dawn darkness. She liked him, and was beginning to trust him and to count on him for little bits of tenderness that soothed the tattered places in her soul.

  She liked him enough that it caused a physical ache when she thought about asking him to release her from their marriage. Still she knew she couldn't keep absorbing his warmth and kindness while she had nothing to give back.

  It wouldn't be fair, but even if that didn't stop her she knew that eventually he would become frustrated by her inability to meet him half way.

  "Slade?” Her voice was soft and tentative.

  "What honey?” His arm tightened around her.

  "Last night, when you said I could take what you were offering, what did you mean?"

  "You asked me that last night, just before you fell asleep, remember?” Slade asked softly.

  He felt the nod of her head and the silky stir of her hair as it shifted against his shoulder.

  "I know I said we'd wait until you were ready before we addressed dominance and submission but there are aspects of that lifestyle that I think would help us deal with your fears about sex."

  "I don't want to have sex again Slade. I can't—I know I promised—but I just can't.” She sucked a deep breath. “Don't make me. Please."

  He heard the raw ragged fear that laced her voice and wanted to pull her closer, to tell her it would be okay, that he wouldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do.

  It was true. He would never force her, but he would certainly push her to the very edges of her comfort zone, and then he'd pause there to stretch and expand that zone of comfort. It wouldn't always be comfortable. In fact, it might get damned uncomfortable, but he thought that dismantling the fear which had held her captive since she was seven would be worth a degree of discomfort.

  The problem was he didn't expect her to understand or to see the wisdom in approaching the fear his way. So he would need to build a deep trust, the kind that came from consciously building and testing her confidence in him. He knew how to do that within a relationship built on a framework of dominance and submission. He wasn't sure how to do it without the framework.

  Slade was silent for a long time. “I know you believe that you don't ever want to have sex again,” Slade said very quietly.

  "I know you're afraid. I can understand why after what happened to you when you were a child, but Kara, the fear has held you in its grip and limited your life for twenty years. Don't you want to be free of it?"

  She rolled over so that she was lying on her back looking up at the ceiling with an expression that said she wanted to trust him but wasn't sure she could.

  "I am afraid Slade. I live with the knowledge that one whiff of the aftershave he wore, or a familiar phrase, will trigger a panic attack. I don't know how to stop being afraid. If I did-.” Slade heard the frustration and the fear that edged her voice and wished he could instantly ease both. He couldn't. Healing, like her trust, would take time and patience.

  "I know you don't see how Kara.” He sighed deeply, rolling to his side and lifting his hand to trace the line of her cheek and jaw, meeting the mingled fear and trust in her eyes as she turned her gaze toward him.

  "You don't need to understand how it all works honey. All you need to do is trust me to figure out the pieces. Submit. Do what I tell you because you trust me. It really is as simple as that."

  She drew a deep breath, her brain spinning dizzily. “I don't understand. If I—do what you tell me, you think I'll stop being afraid? I don't understand how that would work.” She drew a deep breath. “I think I would be even more afraid if I had no control than I am now."

  Slade drew a deep breath. “Choosing to submit to me doesn't take your control away. If you were to decide to give me your power today you could change your mind and take it back tomorrow. It's at your discretion, a kind of continuous ongoing decision. It's not an all or nothing kind of thing."

  He stroked her arm lightly. “It is
something you will have to give me willingly. I won't take it if you don't want to give it."

  "But then, what's the point if I can change my mind back and forth?"

  "The dominance and submission aspects of a relationship add—a kind of foundation—on which everything else is built. It's a commitment like deciding to be faithful to one partner. You always have the power to change your mind but you probably wouldn't."

  He sighed searching for the proper words to explain the depth of trust inherent in D/s relationships and the reasons he didn't think she would ever want to take back her power once she had given it to him.

  "It's not a decision to make lightly,” he said stroking her shoulder idly. “But I think the foundation of that kind of lifestyle and the relationship that we would build would help. For one thing, you wouldn't be facing the panic attacks alone. I would be there with you, supporting you through the aftermath, just like I was this time."

  He was quiet for a minute remembering what she had said about living with the fear of something triggering a panic attack and her frustration at not knowing how to get beyond the fear of the attacks.

  "I think that knowing that you would not be alone might in and of itself diffuse the power the threat of them has."

  Kara thought about his words. The panic attack had been ugly. It had left her feeling as if someone had sucked every drop of energy from her, and yet, as bad as the attack had been and as weak as she had been after it, she had not reached the same low level she had reached with other attacks she'd had. She was sure that was because he had been there with her, holding her, stroking her, whispering reassuring words when she woke fresh from the violence of yet another nightmare.

  Kara felt the stirring of hope like the brush of butterfly wings deep in her soul. Was it possible that something about dominance and submission, giving her power to Slade, could help her get beyond what had happened to her? If she took this chance, grasped this opportunity would she someday be able to meet Slade half way as a whole person, unafraid of sex, able to give and receive physical love without fear and panic making her feel like she was suffocating?