Page 97 of Dare to Love Again

“I get to ride in your Jag with the top down nearly every day, honey. I kind of suspected you were.”

He grinned. “My point is, you like working. You do a good job, but if that gets too much, we hand that over, too. As for the house, it’s perfect for us, except I’m getting bids on doubling the garage so I can park my Jag inside. The SUV can stay in the circle drive. And, before the kids come along, we’re adding on an addition.”

“Kids?” she breathed.

“You said you wanted three, Esme. You’ve only got two bedrooms and they’re next to the master. That won’t do.”

“You’ve got it all planned out.”

“Anything I’ve said not to your liking?”

She shook her head. She wanted his Jag in the garage next to her BMW. It was a lease, and a treat to herself after she started working at Rossi. And she wanted kids, always had. She told him early on she wanted a big family, being an only child herself. What she hadn’t mentioned is she wanted at least one little boy with his daddy’s beautiful dark-green eyes and auburn-streaked hair.

Adding on to the house came along with a growing family; plus, she had a large lot and tons of room. All of it was exactly to her liking, and she told him so.

“I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“So why are we arguing,mo chuisle?”

“Uh, Finn, I don’t think that we are. I was just asking.”

“Mmm...” he hummed in his usual sexy way, which said he wasn’t buying whatever she was selling. But she smiled, which he erased when he crushed her to him and covered her mouth hungrily.

Not long after, he’d put a ring on her finger. As he did, seeing the tears filling her eyes, he’d whispered, “You don’t wait when living every day to its fullest.”

And, every day, cocooned in Finn’s love, his nurturing, and his dominance, rather than her own insulating brand of cotton wool, she was learning how to do exactly that.

And slowly, she was healing.

Lately, she’d found the strength to open the compartment in the back of her brain and let memories of Andrew out. The good ones, when they were happy, which she’d locked away with the bad. That wasn’t fair to him, or to her. She’d loved him dearly and shouldn’t shut him and the time they’d shared out of her life.

Finn agreed, which gave her the courage to tell him her stories. He was wonderfully gracious and most often would stop what he was doing, pull her into his arms, and encourage her to go on, asking questions or making comments, even laughing along with her. With Andrew, who would always hold a special place in her heart, there had been a lot of laughter.

Now and then, disturbing thoughts of Carlos’ insane wrath, getting shot at, how she could have been killed in her crazy escape onto Wilshire Blvd popped in her head. Her therapist, recommended by Val and also kink-friendly, had taught her some techniques to redirect the intrusive images of horror and the gore. Most often they worked.

Every so often, she’d see a flash of malevolent black eyes or feel the crushing weight of Gerald on her chest, and she’d shudder at the vivid memories—like now.

“Esme.” Sharp and uncompromising, Finn’s warning bark from beside her penetrated her ruminations, and she snapped back to the hayloft on the second floor of the club. “You aren’t doing as I asked and focusing on sensations. Lean forward.” He ordered, though bound as she was, what choice did she have when with his hand on her shoulder, he lowered her upper body to the hay-strewn floor?

With her butt aimed high in the air, he murmured, “That’s it.”

She felt the warmth of his fingers, gentle on her skin then something cool drizzle between her cheeks. She knew what was coming. Finn had certain nontraditional methods for redirecting her thoughts, which included a few things from his master’s toy bag, which her therapist didn’t have access to.

“Since your mind is wandering to things it should not—especially while you’re safe with me in a place we both enjoy—I’ll give you something to concentrate on.”

He spread her cheeks and slid the tip of a plug through the cool lube. When it ringed her puckered hole then pressed inward, slowly filling and stretching her, every errant thought flew out of her head and her focus settled on the little bite of discomfort giving way to a satisfying fullness.

Since she enjoyed it, he never considered it a punishment. Most often, it was a reward, especially when Finn took her from behind with a plug in her ass. It always did as he intended, taking her mind off everything else except his mastery of her.

“Isn’t that better?” he asked as he massaged her upraised bottom, returning every few caresses to tap the end wedged between her cheeks, or twist it.

She could only respond with a low moan behind her gag.

He pulled the plug out slowly then slipped it back in, letting her experience the bite and the stretch all over again. She was groaning more loudly when he was ready to move on to what he had planned.

Lifting and turning her, so she sat on a hip, he finished binding her with rope. First, he rechecked the rope bra and the knots he’d made earlier, adding an intricate tie around her waist, and another rope encircled each thigh. Next, he laid her facedown in the hay and frog tied her ankles to the ropes riding just below her ass cheeks.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he murmured, as he ran his hands over her bound body, looking for pinched skin and too-constraining rope. She heard a test squeak before he placed a small rubber ball in her hand. “What’s your signal for red while you’re gagged, Esme?”

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