Page 91 of Beneath the Surface

“Mark looks good, considering. He’s cute with a shaved head. Thank you for taking me to see him.” A shadow of grief for Riley passed over her face.

It had been six weeks since the doctors fought to save her life, and two weeks before Christmas, she was finally coming home. For Brad, it was impossible not to think back to the last time he brought her home, after the bee attack that had nearly taken her life. He remembered the tentative, fragile days that followed, when they’d first begun exploring the trust and intimacy of their D/s dynamic. How it had brought them closer, made them stronger.

But now, as he watched Isobel slowly move through the living room, trailing her fingers nervously over the back of the couch, the bookshelf, and the edge of the table, his heart ached. She seemed hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure she belonged here anymore, or maybe she was afraid of what being home meant.She avoided his gaze, her hands lingering on objects as though grounding herself in the reality of the space.

Brad stood silently for a moment, his chest tightening as realization dawned. She might be afraid of picking up where they left off, of reclaiming who they were together. The thought tore through him like a sharp blade, and he knew he had to address it—honestly and openly, the way they always had.

“Belle,” he said softly.

She turned, her eyes wide and cautious, her fingers frozen on the edge of a picture frame.

Without hesitation, Brad dropped to his knees, lowering himself into a submissive pose, his head bowed and his hands resting loosely on his thighs. It was a position of complete surrender—an act of love and devotion.

“Belle,” he began, his voice trembling slightly, “I told you when we first got together that I couldn’t have a relationship where I wasn’t a Dominant because it’s a part of who I am. But these past weeks, I’ve realized there’s something even more important: having you in my life. I can’t live without you. I need you. And if you never want to go back to that lifestyle, it’s fine with me. All I care about is you.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth. Then, Isobel crossed the room in a rush and fell to her knees in front of him, her arms wrapping around his neck. She buried her face in his chest, her body trembling as she whispered, “Hold me. Just hold me.”

Brad pulled her close, his strong arms enveloping her as if he could shield her from the world. “Always,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’ll always hold you.”

Sunlight streamedthrough the kitchen windows as Isobel opened and closed cabinets, her movements slow but purposeful. She wore one of Brad’s old sweatshirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her.

“Brad?” She glanced up from the counter. “Can we go food shopping? I… I want to bake cookies.” There was a newfound steadiness to her voice.

Brad’s smile widened. “Of course. Let me grab the keys.”

They returned from the store an hour later, arms laden with bags of sugar, flour, chocolate chips, and cinnamon. The house filled with the sweet smell of butter and spices as they worked side by side in the kitchen. Isobel’s laugh, soft and tentative, broke the silence as she held up a tray of snickerdoodles.

“Try one.” She held it out to him.

Brad took a bite, his eyes lighting up. “Perfect,” he said, his voice warm with approval.

She smiled and broke off a small piece, holding it to his lips. As he took the morsel, he kissed her fingers gently, lingering for a moment. Her hand moved to his cheek, her thumb brushing against the stubble there.

“Brad,” her voice trembled with vulnerability, “will you… will you make love to me?”

Brad’s breath caught, but he nodded, his eyes full of tenderness. He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to their bedroom.

“Belle,” he murmured as he laid her down gently, “if you feel uncomfortable at any point, say something. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whispered, her eyes glistening as she reached for him.

Their movements were slow, deliberate, and full of care. Brad kept his posture open, lifting her on top of him, letting her set the pace. He watched her intently, searching her face for any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was love. As they moved together, Isobel wrapped herself around him, her arms tightening as if she never wanted to let go.

When they finally collapsed into each other’s arms, Isobel fell asleep nestled against his chest. Brad stroked her hair, his heart full as he held her through the night.

Isobel shifted on the couch,the soft cushion beneath her a reminder of how long it had been since she’d felt something as comforting as home. The faint scent of pine drifted in from the corner of the living room, where Brad was carefully setting up their Christmas tree. His movements were deliberate but easy, his shoulders relaxed in a way that made her smile.

“Where do you want this one?” She held up an ornament shaped like a mouse. Her fingers were steady now, something she didn’t take for granted anymore.

“Near the top.” Brad glanced at her with a small grin. “You’ve got the better eye for placement.”

Isobel reached up, stretching to hang the ornament near a cluster of twinkling lights. The room glowed softly, the tree already taking on a warm, festive charm.

They were halfway through decorating when the doorbell rang. Brad straightened, brushing his hands on his jeans, and gave her a knowing look. “You should get that.”

When she opened the door, Molly and Ethan stood on the porch, bundled against the chill, their faces glowing. Ethan carried a small car seat, and Molly’s arms were outstretched before Isobel even had time to process what was happening.

“Oh, Izzy,” Molly whispered, her voice trembling as she wrapped her arms around her sister. “It’s so good to see you.”

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