Page 54 of Britain

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Silas

As soon as she drops into subspace I slow my strikes, letting her enjoy the feeling a little bit longer. When I’m satisfied, I drop my flogger on top of my bag. Britain’s skin is a beautiful shade of pink, and she moans when I stroke her smooth skin, relishing the feel of her under my palm.

I reach between her legs and groan. She’s so wet, and her clit is hard. It takes a quick little rub, and her body starts to shake. Britain moans long and low and I bring her down slowly. I quickly unstrap her from the bench and then pick her up. A sub grabs my bag for me and follows me to the chaise lounge, where I sit down with my girl in my arms.

I grab the blanket from the back of the chair and wrap it around Britain. She’s a snuggler after a scene, and even in a dungeon full of people, she still is. I rub up and down her back for a while, long enough that subs cleaned our area and there’s already another scene going on. One of the subs brings us a bottle of water.

“How are you doing, baby?”

She smiles a dreamy smile that makes me press my lips to her forehead. “Great, Sir.” Britain wraps her arms around me. She presses her lips to the underside of my jaw. “I’m hungry.”

Another thing I’ve discovered about her is that eating, especially after play, is an enjoyable experience for her. “Okay, we’ll head home.” I stand up and place her on her feet, steadying her when she wobbles for second. “Are you steady?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I lead her through the club, toward the women’s room. I kiss her before she disappears behind the door. I head toward the front desk when an unwelcome sight appears in front of me. “What do you want, Dorie?” Great, way to ruin the night.

“Who’s the girl? Just kidding, your sister told me that she’s your ‘girlfriend.’ I thought you don’t date?” She puts her hand on her hips. I can’t believe I was ever attracted to this—I’m sorry—bitch.

“Dorie, it’s really none of your fucking business, and if you don’t back off, I’ll make sure they revoke your membership and you’ll never be allowed in here again.” I walk around her and head through the doors. Britain is standing by the desk and smiles when she sees me.

My body immediately relaxes. I should be worried about that encounter, but I won’t let myself go there, not after a near-perfect night.

Once we get home, she heads into the kitchen while I hang my flogger up in my closet and put my bag up on the shelf. I stop at the top of the stairs because I hear Britain singing. Since we’ve been together, I don’t think I’ve ever heard her do that. I slowly walk down the stairs.

When I reach the living room, I realize that she’s singing Let’s Stay Together by Al Green. Her voice is soft and sweet. A lump forms in my chest as I step into the mouth of the kitchen. She’s stirring what looks like mushroom risotto, which has become her recent favorite. Her free hand is wrapped around the four-leaf clover on her collar.

Al Green’s voice comes through softly from her phone that’s lying on the counter. She looks up at me and smiles. “Al is my mom’s favorite. She’s played him all of the time since I was a little girl. His voice just relaxes me.” She looks down at the skillet. “I hope this is okay. It just sounded really good.”

I move toward her until my front meets her back, and I wrap my arms around her. “It looks and smells delicious.”

She scoops some up in the spoon and holds it up to me. I lean forward, taking a bite of the creamy rice. Britain’s cooking has definitely improved. Seeing her in my kitchen like this makes me want things I swore I never would. I step back, breaking our connection.

Britain turns her head to look at me. “Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s delicious.” I pull down some glasses and a couple of bowls. I set them up at the breakfast bar.

While we eat I know I’m quiet, and she keeps looking at me. I’m such a dick—I shouldn’t be acting like this, especially after a scene. I smile, wrap my arm around her neck, and pull her to me for a kiss.

When I pull back she’s smiling at me, crisis averted. “This is your best yet. Even Gordon Ramsay would be impressed.”

Her blonde ponytail swings back and forth as she shakes her head at me. “Oh, I’m sure he would be.” Britain’s voice is laced with sarcasm.

After we finish eating Britain tries to clean up, but I pick her up and carry her to bed where I fuck her into exhaustion. It’s a long, long time before sleep finds me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Britain

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to see me. How are things going?” My therapist, Margaret, sits down across from me. “Have you had any more episodes?”

She definitely doesn’t beat around the bush with me, but that’s what I need. “No episodes, and things are amazing.”

“Good, and why are things amazing?” She looks up from her notebook.

I can’t help but smile. “Silas and I are still together, and things couldn’t be any more perfect. I’m not a girly-girl, but I could start twirling around singing power ballads.”

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