Tormented Dreams: Club Risqué Book Seven Page 6

  She couldn't believe that she had actually blacked out. A combination of extreme sensation, subspace, and lack of oxygen as she'd screamed out her pleasure and pain without drawing an adequate breath had left her on the verge of unconsciousness.

  She had no recollection of being released from her bondage and no idea as to the identity of the third person Xavier had introduced to their scene.

  Right now, she was cocooned in a warm, fluffy blanket, and she could tell that the icy butt plug had been removed at some point too. She was curled up on Xavier's knee and the good doctor was now ministering to her as if she was a patient. Given that she'd blacked out, maybe she was.

  He held her close, stroking one hand up and down her back while he massaged first one wrist and then the other to ensure that the blood was circulating now that the cuffs were off. He alternated between offering her water to make sure she was hydrated and feeding her little bits of chocolate to get her blood sugar up.

  Grace snuggled into him even further, feeling utterly delighted. She was sated, contented, and absolutely fulfilled.

  But more than all of that, she felt a bone deep sense of rightness here on Xavier's lap. It was as if she had come home to where she was always meant to be, and she felt as if she never wanted to move.

  Too soon, though, the moment passed, and Xavier roused her.

  Reluctantly, Grace peeled herself away from him and retrieved her clothing, the lovely lassitude she had been experiencing suddenly turning into complete exhaustion as she dressed.

  Not for the first time, she yearned for a Dom of her own. One who would still coddle and fuss over her when the aftercare had ceased. A man who would bundle her up and take her home and tuck her into bed before climbing in beside her and wrapping her in strong arms whilst she slept. The normal kind of relationship things that didn't necessarily pertain to the lifestyle, but nevertheless added to it.

  * * *

  Xavier had never felt quite so reluctant to let a submissive go before, and that was a first.

  As much as he enjoyed the lifestyle, he had always considered himself far too solitary to ever allow a woman into his life on a daily basis. Or at least a daily basis that he wasn't completely in control of and which still maintained the distance he required.

  He was too set in his ways, and that was just one of the issues. He had reached the age of forty-two years old without ever sharing his life with another person outside of his childhood and considered himself far too selfish to start sharing it with anybody now. He had always been content with his own company and the release that he found exploring kink, in general, and sadism specifically, within the club setting.

  While it was true that he had searched long and hard—was still searching—for a submissive who would be prepared to be his slave, he knew that his own little foibles meant it would take a special woman to put up with his unorthodox brand of control. Because while he was eager to have a permanent 24/7 slave, he didn't want one who lived with him. He knew that would be a lot for anybody to understand, let alone to agree to, but he hadn't given up the dream quite yet.

  Besides, he was a doctor. Even though he had a successful private practice, he still felt the need to volunteer to do shifts in A&E at the local hospital. He had always felt driven to give something back. He also spent another huge chunk of his free time concentrating on research. So much so that there wasn't a whole lot of time left to dedicate to any kind of relationship. Certainly, not the kind where a woman would expect his undivided attention.

  Medicine was his life, his vocation. He lived to make people better, to ease their pain and improve their individual situations.

  Yes, it was rather an odd paradox that, with having that very concrete philosophy, he was also a sadist, but he had learned to accept that contradiction years ago in order to keep himself sane. He was sure there were people who wouldn't understand, which was why he valued his anonymity at the club. He was equally certain, there were all kinds of people who might either judge or want to investigate his psyche, find out what made him tick. He could just imagine the outraged queries.

  Did he have a Munchhausen by proxy type impediment, where he felt the need to inflict pain, in order that he could make it better?

  Was there a fascination with pain that had drawn him into the medical profession? Was the pursuit of the endurance of pain and how those stimuli could be corrupted by pleasure that which drove him? After all, he did love research.

  No, there was a reason he had chosen this particular direction with his unique desire for a slave, and that was because it was something that would work for him and his lifestyle, without giving his eventual partner any false expectations of what he was feasibly able to commit to. This way, there would be no mistaken hopes, no disappointments, no anticipation that things might turn out differently. Everything would be written up and put down in black and white. Both parties would know exactly where they stood, right down to the times that were spent together and what would happen during those periods.

  There would be the reassurance of absolute certainty. No let downs, no disillusionment, no frustration and discontent when his work kept him away from home more often than a more conventional relationship could withstand.

  When he found his ideal partner, she would have the absolute assurance that their time together was hers, and there would be no misleading expectations. It would be perfect.

  Moreover, Grace seemed like a modern, independent woman. Perhaps she might be the type of submissive who could feed into his own lifestyle choices. After all, she'd spent the past two decades alone too, as far as he could discern. It was entirely possible that she had similar views to his.

  Yes. You didn't live on your own for that long without settling into your own self-absorbed ways. He knew that first hand.

  So maybe this could actually work out for both of them and they could scratch each other's itch, both for now and for the long term.

  Xavier smiled. Things were most certainly looking up.

  Chapter 7

  And so, it began. It wasn't quite the start of the beautiful kind of friendship that either of them wanted, but they were certainly both on a track that led them to believe in the fulfilment of their own desires and dreams.

  In the meantime, they both enjoyed the other's company, they scened together, spent time together when they could, and judged the success of their budding relationship against each of their own agendas.

  Neither of them was being deceitful; they simply had no idea that the other had an entirely different intent than their own.

  They weren't being manipulative; the two of them were simply content to see where things were heading and judged everything with two very different sets of criteria.

  For Xavier, the fact that their time together was so difficult to schedule outside the club, a specific period they both made a concerted effort to keep clear, was confirmation that his own perception involving the kind of relationship he thought would work was entirely justified.

  Whereas, for Grace, the fact that they were so perfectly in sync in their kink compatibility and also in tune on a such a sexually combustible level, led her to believe that compatibility would spill over into wider areas of their relationship. Because, surely, two people who were so effortlessly attuned to each other in two of the most important areas of a relationship, especially one as distinctive as theirs, must also be a perfect fit in the other areas which were important. That certainty fed her belief that Xavier was the perfect baby daddy.

  His body clock surely must be making itself known, just like hers, as the years advanced. And that conviction allowed her to leap feet first into their relationship, confident that she had indeed met her soulmate. After all, she had never felt this magnetic pull of attraction and desire so strongly in her entire life, so how could she possibly be wrong?

  So, while Grace was weaving dreams of houses in the suburbs with a nursery and a pretty garden, with room for a child, maybe children, plural, to run around, Xavier
was wondering just how long he should wait before he broached the subject of an unconventional, 24/7, remote Master/slave relationship.

  * * *

  "I wanted to talk to you about our relationship," Xavier started one evening when they'd found a rare chance to go out to dinner, "to share a dream with you that I've had for a number of years."

  They were sitting in a quiet corner booth in one of those elegant, high-class restaurants that specialised in a muted ambience of sophistication. Despite the sedateness of their surroundings, Grace's pulse sped up, and she could feel a prickly heat around her face and neck as her breath caught at the anticipation of what he was about to say and pooled inappropriately in her nether regions. The fact that they were talking in the terms of a relationship had to be positive, right?

  Excitement heated her veins at the thought that he already wanted to take things a step further than just scening at the club. Their time together there had been scintillating; she couldn't deny that, and neither could she deny that she was eager to take it a step further herself.

  As desperate as she was to put things on a more permanent basis and make things exclusive, she'd tried to be patient, not wanting to scare him off. After all, they were already there, for all intents and purposes.

  Oh, it might not have been agreed in so many words, but Grace knew neither of them had scened with anyone else since she had taken out a club membership almost two months ago. The only thing missing from the current state of their relationship was the actual acknowledgement of a commitment that had already been made as far as she was concerned. And it looked like that was about to change right here and now.

  Grace felt a shiver of anticipation slither down her spine. She was so close to touching her own dreams that she could almost feel them taking shape right there in front of her. First, the declaration of commitment, and then they could move straight on to settling down.

  Xavier seemed endearingly hesitant for such a self-assured Dom. He didn't need to worry, of course. She fully intended to grasp things with both hands and never let go. She was already more than half way in love with the man. Granted, she didn't know him quite as well as she might like, on a social level, but what she did know about him enthralled and enticed her.

  Okay, so maybe it was possible that she was looking at the situation through rose coloured glasses, considering the newness of their relationship and the fact that they hadn't managed to get together much in a more casual setting, but Grace wasn't going to let that deter her.

  She wasn't a young, immature chit of a girl who didn't know her own mind, or one who might have her head turned, dreaming of fairy stories. She was a grown woman, with enough knowledge and perception to understand a man's character.

  She had sufficient life experience to know that relationships required a good deal of give and take to be successful, and she was savvy enough to accept that it would need work. And she was perfectly willing to put that work in.

  No, actually, she didn't believe there were any rose-coloured glasses clouding her vision here. Grace prided herself on the understanding that there was more to a successful relationship than just a few fireworks in the bedroom…although those were certainly a bonus, since she also wasn't stupid enough to think that either of them could have a satisfying life with someone who didn't understand or share their unique brand of kink. Not that they'd actually gotten as far as the bedroom yet, of course, since their relationship had evolved almost entirely within the confines of the club because of both their hectic schedules. Nevertheless, Grace still felt that they had a good basis to work from.

  "I'd love to hear your dreams, Xavier. I have some of my own, so I know how important they can be," she told him a little breathlessly, in her anticipation.

  Xavier smiled indulgently and took her hand in his across the pristine white linen of the tablecloth. "I feel so comfortable with you, Grace. As if I've known you forever, not just a few weeks."

  Grace felt a frisson of good old-fashioned lust zing through her at the feel of his thumb drawing circles on the flesh of her palm, a heat that had nothing to do with the warmth of the crackling open fire in the hearth across the room.

  God! She couldn't wait to get this thing that had built between them onto a more certain footing. It was quite insane the way she wanted him so much…but she wanted so much more as well, so she forced herself to be patient and hear him out.

  The other quietly dining patrons, already hushed and circumspect, faded into insignificance as all of Grace's attention narrowed to a pinpoint that was Xavier Diaz.

  "You seem to just fit into my life as if you've always been a part of it, and that gives me the confidence to talk to you about taking things in a different direction…something a little more permanent."

  Grace felt a little light-headed and giddy. Everything was just so perfect. They were so in tune with each other that it was uncanny.

  "I know exactly what you mean," she confessed huskily. "Because I feel the same way myself."

  Xavier smiled that rare smile of his, and Grace felt like she'd won the lottery. Hope bloomed inside her at the idea of where this could go. Finally, it seemed that all of her dreams were about to come true.

  "Tell me about your aspirations, Xavi. I want to know everything that is important to you." She tightened her hand around his, squeezing it in encouragement and looking him directly in the eye. "Reveal your fantasies, and let's see if we can make both of our dreams a reality," she encouraged with an optimistic smile.

  The yearning look in his eyes was almost more than Grace could bear. In her head, she had them married and living in suburban heaven with the requisite 2.4 children already.

  Xavier cleared his throat. "For a long time now, I've had a hankering for a very specific kind of lifestyle," he began as Grace hung on to his words and his hands with bated breath.

  "I've spent a long time—years—searching for somebody I felt might do me the honour of entering into this type of liaison with me, but I've never found anyone who I thought might be able to give me what I really want…until you, that is."

  Xavier drew her forward as he leaned closer himself and pressed several kisses to her knuckles. The earnest look in his dreamy, dark eyes had her practically melting and ready to agree to anything.

  "I think we have something special together, Grace. Something that we could take to another level. I'm hoping that you feel the same way."

  "I do, Xavier. You must know I do," she whispered breathily, turning her hand inside his, squeezing it tightly. "What you've just described is exactly the way I feel too. I can't imagine not having you in my life, even though you only just moved into it."

  Xavier breathed a sigh of relief. "Then maybe what I want to suggest won't be too much of a shock then."

  "I'm sure it won't, Xavi. I want to move things forward too. With you, everything just seems so right, natural, as if all of the puzzle pieces are already lined up and just waiting to fall into place."

  "I need to warn you from the outset, Grace, that what I want is neither common nor conventional, even within our lifestyle. I need you to think long and hard about what I want you to commit to. If it isn't something you feel comfortable with, then that's not a problem. It's more important that you're honest with me."

  "Of course, Xavier, I wouldn't dream of doing anything else. Believe me, I haven't gotten to this stage in my life without knowing my own mind," she reassured.

  Xavier nodded, just once, but Grace saw the resolve in his expression, as if he had settled on a choice and made up his mind. She couldn't help biting at the inside of her lip as she waited for his reply with bated breath. This was it! What she had been waiting for all of her adult life.

  "I want a 24/7 relationship," Xavier told her in a rush, his breath whooshing out so she felt it on her face before he sucked it in again. "But one with a bit of a twist."

  24/7, well that was certainly putting things on a permanent basis, but somehow Grace felt as if she was missing something and she crease
d her forehead as she tried to work it out.

  "You see, I want the best of both worlds," Xavi continued. "I want a M/s relationship, but I don't necessarily want us to live in each other's pockets. A conundrum, perhaps, but I've thought about it a lot and I really think it could work."

  The words didn't quite seem to be adding up in Grace's mind and she was slow to interpret what he meant, her mind still parked wholly and totally inside the picket fence of her own dreams…wait, had he said M/s? He wanted a Master/slave relationship?

  Grace managed to draw blood when her teeth punctured the soft flesh inside her mouth as she jerked her head in surprise, but Xavier was still speaking. She leaned back, putting a little bit of space between them as she tried to clear her thoughts, drawing her hands away from his distracting grasp.

  "I've become selfish in my old age. I like my own space, but I still crave the dynamic."

  Grace soothed the ragged flesh inside her mouth with her tongue and shook her head. She was still missing something here. Something important.

  "I figure you've gotten used to having your own space too, so I really do think that, between us, we could make this work remotely. It's all a question of rules."

  Xavier was looking at her with the most intent of expressions on his face, looking at her expectantly and waiting.

  Grace closed her eyes momentarily and squeezed her temples between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing unconsciously as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.

  It seemed to take forever before she stepped outside that picket fence which ringed her own dreams, where she had blindly been residing. "So…" she began slowly, still trying to string the reality together in her mind, still not entirely sure she was altogether following. "You want a Master/ slave relationship, but…" She trailed off, not quite sure she was correct in her assumptions, even as she tried to make sense of them inside her head. "…but you don't want a live-in relationship?"