Always, she was a beacon of light and knowledge, and he soaked it up in full. She had taught him that there was no need for him to be rough, raise his voice or use force; that he could gently lead and dominate, and she would follow.

They learned each other’s darkest secrets, their sensual intimate yearnings shared by only the two of them as they talked about the fetishes he had always thought too taboo to mention. Perhaps someday when he had a submissive of his own, he would get the opportunity to try them.

Even though they hadn’t engaged in sexual intercourse, they had tasted each other’s sexuality and pleasured each other night-after-night. Of course Sawyer had wanted to be with Sarah in that way, but knew she wasn’t ready for that step. It made no difference - their bond was greater than the mere act of sex.

The previous night Sarah had finally broken down and spoke of her husband’s death. They had been trying to get pregnant just before Doug had been in a head-on collision. He lingered in a coma for nearly three weeks before finally succumbing to his massive head trauma.  Sawyer’s heart swelled after her revelation because he knew how tough it was to speak of such things, and he felt privileged that she had shared such pain with him. Sawyer could feel her anguish when she spoke of all the things she regretted and that which she wished she would’ve done before his passing. He knew all too well those exact feelings. If there was any way he could take away the pain she was still dealing with, he would.

In turn, he had talked about his loss. He had even told her of the hell he had gone through in Serena’s last days. He had never spoken about that time in his life to anyone or about the devastation he had felt which watching her take her last breath and not being able to do anything for her except to whisper his undying love into her ear. He cringed when he thought about how the tears had come unbidden and how they had both wept and held each other. Still, it had been liberating to finally grieve his wife’s loss in a way that wasn’t destructive to him.

Feeling calmed in Sarah’s arms, he had finally given in and revealed his childhood, and the neglect he had suffered. It was a difficult thing to do, but she held him and kissed each of the scars that covered his body, and never once showed him pity.

He couldn’t believe everything that had happened in only five days with Sarah. It had felt like so much longer.

When he arrived at home, he found her waiting by the door on her knees. It was an act of capitulation he had grown to treasure in their short time together. He moved past her without saying anything, laying his briefcase down on the counter and removing his coat before he addressed her. Touching the top of her head, she responded by lifting her face.

“I’ve missed you, Sir,” she smiled.

“Of course you did, Snowflake,” he lifted one side of his mouth in a half-smile. “All good submissives miss their Dominants when they’re away. Did you play with yourself at 1:00?”

“Yes, Sir, and I’m eager to cum for you.”

He licked his lips and rubbed his hand over his dick. “And I’m ready to make that happen.”

Unzipping his pants, he pulled his cock out and stroked it. “Play with yourself while I fuck your beautiful mouth.”

Without another word, Sarah slipped her hand under her dress and past her panties while her full lips caressed his aching and rigid shaft. He pulled her hair back away from her face to get a better view of her lips wrapped around him and held her head as she bobbed up and down.

“That’s it, take it all, Snowflake,” he whispered, pushing her head down gently and holding her steady until she became breathless.

She looked up and they shared a moment of connection.  Her eyes began to water when he hit the back of her throat but she never once gagged. After several minutes, her body stiffened.

“Cum for your Sir,” he commanded, knowing well the look of elation on her face. Her hand moved frantically as she moaned out, closing her eyes tightly. When she was finished, she placed both hands on his thighs, concentrating all her efforts on his cock. Another several minutes later, her wet, greedy mouth had satisfied him and his hot load hit the top of her mouth without warning.  She swallowed his gift and he sank to his knees, the wind temporarily knocked out of him.

“Thank you, Sir,” she licked her lips.

* * *

Isabel and Sarah chatted the entire drive to the club. They were gushing over the gift Sawyer had given Isabel; a white-gold bracelet with an engraving with three simple yet meaningful words that he felt personified her: spirit, beauty, and imagination. He had bought it weeks earlier as a thank you for all the changes she had inspired in both he and Dylan, and also for introducing him to Sarah. The sexual tension was crackling all around them and his nerves were getting the best of him, but he was happier than he had been in years.

They were all laughing at a lame joke Dylan had just told as they made their way to the door of the establishment when Sawyer heard a familiar voice calling out to him. He turned and came face-to-face with Sonya. He had been holding onto Sarah’s hand, but the surprise of seeing Sonya momentarily stunned him and he dropped it.

He smiled at her, hope filling his heart that perhaps she had changed her mind about BDSM, but those feelings were short-lived when she opened her mouth.

“It’s time to end all this nonsense, Sawyer. I want you to come with me right now,” she said unflinchingly, looking him dead in the eyes.

Sarah immediately hid behind him to avoid whatever fallout was about to happen.

Taken aback by Sonya’s off-putting remark, he met her gaze boldly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We’re here to take you home,” she pushed her chin out, her hands clenched stiffly at her sides.

Sawyer was confused and becoming quickly irritated with her demeanor. Who the hell was she referring to anyway?

“We?” She motioned to a tall, thin, attractive man who looked the same age as himself standing several feet away and within earshot. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, agitated by the man’s presence and her comments.

“Intervening,” she replied in seriousness.

He almost laughed at the absurdity of her remark. His eyes darted to the man again and he looked him over closely. “Who is that?” he gestured with his head.

“A friend,” she answered frigidly.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave her a pointed stare and responded just as coldly. “I see you’ve found you’re next whipping boy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, affronted, resting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t play coy. You know exactly what it means. It means you’ve found someone who will jump when you say jump and follow your orders without question. Why the hell else would he be here when he knows nothing about me?”

The man moved forward defensively and Sawyer shot him a murderous look. “Don’t come any closer,” he growled, pointing his finger at the stranger’s face.

Sonya dramatically flung her hands onto his shoulders and got in his face, “Sawyer, please. You need help getting out of this situation. That’s all we’re here for.”

The ridiculousness of her statement made him unable to hold back his ironic laughter anymore and he let out a breathy chuckle. “What is it that you think I need help getting away from? BDSM? Where do you plan on taking me, Sonya? Bondage lover’s anonymous?”

At that moment, a cold gust of wind moved past them causing Sonya to shiver. Despite being irritated with her, his protective instincts kicked in, and he took his coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders to warm her. When he did, her features softened.

“Can’t you see how wrong all of this is?” she asked glumly.

Isabel moved forward to place a kind hand on Sonya’s shoulder, obviously touched and saddened by the look of misery on her face, but Sonya promptly jerked away.

“Are you happy?” she snapped. “Do you see what you and your husband have done?” Isabel winced and shrank away. “You and your filthy paintings!” she continued shouting.

Dylan moved in, ready to fiercely protect his submissive. “My wife’s ‘filthy paintings’ have brought your art gallery a windfall. Who the fuck do you think you are talking to her like that?” he ground out between gritted teeth.

Sawyer put a hand up and without taking his eyes off of Sonya, he spoke, low and deep.

“I’ve got this.”

He clutched the lapels of the jacket wrapped around Sonya and pulled her close, forcing her to focus her attention back onto him. He had heard enough. Outraged at her hurtful words towards his friends, his heart beat erratically and his breathing came out harsh and ragged. Glaring down into Sonya’s heated grey eyes, he ripped into her, his smooth baritone voice belying the fury he was fighting to contain.

“Have I ever disrespected you, Sonya? Have I ever spoken to you negatively or said or done anything unkind to you?” She stood frozen, her eyes wide and her mouth parted. “Answer me,” he barked. She shook her head. “Has Isabel or Dylan ever hurt you in any way?” Again, she shook her head. “Then what gives you the right to say such cruel things to them or me?” Sonya stood motionless and unblinking, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. “Do I look like I’m being forced to do something I don’t want? Does it look like my arm is being twisted into being here?” Once more, she stiffly shook her head and the edge to his voice lessened. “I’m here because I want my life to change for the better. I wanted you to be a part of that and to share my past with you, but instead you chose to bury your head in the sand and to judge that which you know nothing about.”