Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella) Read Free Page B

out, if you aren’t busy?”
    “That sounds great,” I responded, crossing my fingers and my toes as I spoke. I had missed him so much. I’d missed our conversations and our easy camaraderie, and I’d missed his warm, supportive presence in my life. And I’d missed the sex. I’d played with myself half-heartedly during the week, but there was an ache, a void that could only be filled by Patrick.
    ***
    I didn’t want to be the girl that rushed over like a puppy when her master called. Oh, that image. Heat rose in my body as I contemplated that picture; remembered the last time that Patrick and I had made love, when he had called me his kitten, his obedient little pet.
    Whoa there, I advised my aching pussy. The chances of that happening tonight seemed unlikely.
    At two, I left work, muttering my apologies to Natalie, and telling her to leave early as well. She’d come back to work on Wednesday, but she still looked drained. On my way back home, I stopped at the liquor store and bought a bottle of wine, a moderately priced French Syrah. I’d had a long and passionate conversation with Patrick one day about my affinity for European wines. I tended to prefer their more subtle, shy flavouring to the bold assertiveness of their New World counterparts. Patrick had looked amused at my mini-rant, and had muttered something about my preferences in bed matching my taste in wine. “Do you prefer new world wines then?” I had asked archly, and laughed as he had thrown me on the bed, wrestled me still, and spanked me for my sass.
    I sighed. I really hoped things would work out between us.
    At five thirty, I rang Patrick’s doorbell. Early November, and it was already starting to darken outside. In another month, it would be dark at five. Most people would leave home in the morning before daylight, work in a cubicle all day, and return home in the evening in the dark. At times like that, I was thrilled that my gamble starting my own business was paying off. Being self-employed, I worked a lot of evenings and weekends, somewhat dependent on the schedule of my clients. But mostly, I got to make my own hours, and that flexibility was fantastic. Between the months of November and March, I actually saw daylight. While there was financial uncertainty to being self-employed, I couldn’t deny the importance of sunshine and daylight in my life.
    Patrick pulled the door open. “Hey,” I said hesitantly. I held out the bottle of wine. “I brought wine.” 
    He ignored that bit of inanity, pulled me into his arms and kissed my lips. For a few moments, nothing mattered except the way he felt against me. His hard muscles pressing up against my body. His smell - male and woodsy and spicy all in one, now underscored by a faint aroma of tomato sauce. The way he tasted, of mint and toothpaste. The touch of his tongue brushing across my mouth, the feel of his teeth nibbling at my lower lip.
    “Lisa,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s cold outside. Come on in.” I followed him into the kitchen, and took a seat at his kitchen table.
    I was immensely cheered and relieved by his welcome. The entire way to his house, I had been trying to think of other things, but truth be told, I’d been preparing myself for a break up. I’d crossed my fingers and my toes resolutely to ward off any ill-luck, but my heart had been aching with premature hurt.
    But while I didn’t know everything about Patrick, I knew the important bits. He was only cruel in bed when he was dominating me, and then, only with my express consent. He wouldn’t have kissed me the way he had, with heat and passion, only to break up with me minutes after. For the first time since last Friday, I truly let myself relax.
    “I brought wine,” I said, gesturing to the bottle I’d set down on the counter.
    “Let’s open it then,” he replied cheerfully, gesturing to the cabinet where he stored his wine glasses. “Unless you are ambitious enough to decant it? I have one of those things