Shameless (The Therapist #2) Read online

  “Yes, sir,” Ava replies, just as I release my belt and let my pants drop to the floor.

  “Good. Let’s begin.”

  Chapter Eight

  ~ Malcolm ~

  “You belong to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You belong to me, but I do not own you,” I explain as I stand Ava up and position her back against the Saint Andrew’s Cross. I use my feet to spread her legs so they line up with the bottom legs on the large X. “Your body is mine to please, but you are still a free and powerful woman. You are a goddess. You’re a queen, but you are giving yourself to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ava whispers, as I bend over and clasp the cuffs around her ankles.

  “What is your safe word?”

  “Cleopatra.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a queen.”

  “That’s right. You’re a queen, I’m a king, and tonight we’re going to create our own world for us to rule together. This basement is our kingdom, Ava. It’s ours, to do with what we please. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ava’s breathing speeds up as I raise her hands above her head and place them on the upper arms of the X. The distinct click of the cuffs locking around her wrists pulls excitement from both of us, and once she is bound, I kiss Ava on the neck before taking a step back.

  In front of me, Ava is locked into position with her limbs bound and spread. She’s totally naked, and the sight of her standing there, waiting for me to dominate her, makes me harder than I can explain. My eyes roam about her exposed flesh, picking out the places I’m going to squeeze—the places that will tremble beneath my touch. Her tits call to me, and her bare pussy is the most inviting thing I've ever seen. I want to cover it with my mouth and look up at Ava's body as it shakes from the sensation of my tongue working its magic. All in due time.

  Ava watches with anticipation as I walk away from her. I go over to the other side of the room where the chest of drawers are located and glance at them both. When I came down, I figured I wouldn’t use anything in them tonight, but Ava’s exquisite body has pulled me in a different direction.

  I walk over to the first drawer and slide open the top. The first thing I see is the black flogger with thick black braids that started it all. It’s the toy I was looking at when I decided to build this dungeon of pleasure. I lift it out of its place and smile at the feel of it in my hand. It has a weighted handle to offset the thickness of the braids, and once I’m holding it, I can't put it back down. I turn around and see Ava glaring at the flogger, her face struggling between anxiety and excitement, and I know I've made the right choice.

  “Safe word?” I ask Ava for a second time, as I walk back over and position myself in front of her. The new flogger dangles in my hand, poised and ready to be wielded.

  “Cleopatra.”

  “Don't forget it,” I say in nearly a growl, then I lift my hand and flick my wrist.

  The braids of the flogger whip across Ava’s breasts with a low but distinct crack and leave a slew of pink streaks on her flesh. Ava squeals, feeling both the sting of pain and bliss of pleasure. Her breathing quickens again, and I stand back to assess her reaction.

  Is it too much for her? Is she going to use the safe word already? Being dominant to me doesn’t mean being brutal. In fact, I’d say it means being even more sensitive to what she needs. There’s an obvious line that can never be crossed, but it must be walked with careful precision.

  I lower my head so my eyes are level with Ava’s. We look at each other, and I wait for her reaction. I can tell she’s shocked at the sensation of this particular flogger, but the shock doesn’t look like discomfort. She looks turned on, and when Ava smiles at me, I know we’re good. I flash a devilish smile of my own before flicking my wrist a second time, sending the braids streaking across Ava’s breasts again. This time, the sound Ava releases isn’t a squeal. It’s a moan of unmitigated pleasure.

  I use the flogger on Ava over and over again, spanking her hard enough to leave a mark, but soft enough not to hurt her too much. The braids crash on her chest, stomach, and legs, and Ava fills the basement up with the sound of her moaning and hard breathing.

  After a few minutes, I stop to appreciate my work. Ava’s body is covered in marks that have changed from pink to red, and both of us are exhausted. Breathing heavily, I step forward and place the handle of the flogger under Ava’s chin to lift her head.

  “You’re such a good girl,” I say, before licking my lips and pressing my mouth against hers. My tongue dances in Ava’s mouth and hers follows my lead as I rub her sensitive body. I feel her breath shudder in my mouth when I run my hand over her nipples, and I know she’s starting to feel delicate. Her body is ready for a change, and I’m ready to oblige, so I drop the flogger to the floor and lower myself to my knees. The second I’m down, I do what I’ve been dying to, and shove my tongue into Ava’s pussy.

  Ava lets out a loud gasp as I lick her clit over and over again. I’m like a machine, fighting through the fatigue I feel under my tongue from overuse. I caress Ava’s clit and look up at her. Just because the room is black doesn’t mean I don’t want to see. I want to see everything. I love watching Ava close her eyes when the feeling becomes too much for her to keep them open. If you’re not paying attention to your lover when you're in this position, you're setting yourself up for failure, because all the signs you need to tell you if you're doing it correctly are right there in front of you. It’s all in her body language. Ava’s body tells me I’m doing it right, and it hits a fever pitch when I slide two of my fingers inside her pussy and curl them upward to hit her g-spot.

  “Oh, fuck!” Ava blares the second I touch the spot, and I use both my fingers and my tongue to bring Ava to a house-rattling orgasm. She earned it after being flogged.

  I savor the taste of her in my mouth and relish the feeling of her wetness all over my face as I stand up.

  “Taste it, Ava,” I command, as I lean over and let Ava kiss me again. She licks all over my mouth and chin, sucking up her juices. This woman is so unbelievably hot. Every time she touches me I want to fuck her senseless.

  I pull myself away from Ava once again, walking away from her without saying a word. She breathes hard behind me as I walk back over to the chest of drawers and place the flogger back inside. Once it’s back in its place, I step over to the next chest of drawers and grab a black, cordless Magic Wand vibrator. It’s smaller than the corded white ones, which is perfect for this occasion.

  Before walking back to Ava, I make sure to remove my boxers. I know Ava is watching, so I take my time, standing there with my bare ass facing her, before sheathing my cock with a condom and turning around. Ava licks her lips when she sees my erect shaft, like she’s literally hungry for it, and once we’re face to face, I let her feel it just a bit by rubbing the head against her sensitive clit. She gasps for me, and I smile.

  “Are you ready to feel every single inch of me?” I ask, just before leaning over and licking her neck.

  She lets out a soft moan before answering, “Yes, sir.”

  I reach between us and grab ahold of my erection, pushing it inside of Ava with ease. She’s so wet I’m surprised she isn’t dripping, and I use the lubricant as motivation to go insane. I immediately start to pound in and out of Ava. Our bodies crash together repeatedly, and both of us moan into the air. I feel Ava wanting to reach down and grab me, but her hands and feet are still bound to the X, so she has no choice but to stand there and let me ravage her.

  After a few minutes of pure fucking, I grip the vibrator in my palm and slide it between us, pressing it against Ava’s clit. She lets out a shriek of surprise and pleasure as the vibrations start to work on her, and I know it won't be long before she erupts again. Fucking while standing up is a task, but I manage to pull it off with efficiency as I get up on the balls of my feet for extra leverage, and I’m spurred on by Ava’s screams.

&nbs
p; “Fucking Christ,” Ava yells up at the ceiling. “I’m gonna come again. Oh, god! Can I please come? Shit!”

  “Come for me…”

  I’m interrupted by Ava’s growling scream. She’s rocked by an orgasm that seems as though it comes from the deepest parts of her soul, and the shriek she lets out is throat-shredding. The flesh on Ava’s neck turns red and I see thick veins bulging just beneath her skin. Her orgasm is so fantastic, I couldn’t hold back my own even if I wanted to. I let out my own howl of pleasure as I come with Ava, and both of us have nothing left to give except hard breathing and moans of exhaustion.

  “Oh fuck,” is all Ava manages to say as I pull myself out of her and drop the vibrator onto the floor. My body feels war-torn, and I want nothing more than to crawl over to the bed and go to sleep, but I take time to unfasten Ava from the cross. The second her limbs are free, both of us crash to the floor next to each other.

  We breathe like we’ve just been saved from nearly drowning, and I don’t even realize I’ve fallen asleep until I’m being woken up by a soft kiss on the cheek from Ava. When I open my eyes, she’s fully dressed and back to normal.

  “Goodnight, Malcolm. Sleep tight, my love,” she whispers into my ear, just before stepping away and disappearing up the black stairs.

  Repairs

  Chapter Nine

  ~ Tessa ~

  Monday mornings suck, even if you haven’t just been dumped by your asshole ex-boyfriend. This particular Monday morning will be extra annoying, though, because today is the day I have to tell my mother that my relationship with Brandon is over. We all go through issues with our parents at some point or another, but my mother is on a whole different level, and this particular issue is in a completely different stratosphere for her.

  My parents, Jack and Judy Milton, are traditional, to say the least. They’re conservative by nature, and have a bad habit of pushing their agenda on me, even if I’m kicking and screaming the entire time. I love them, but we’re almost nothing alike, and it causes tension.

  For instance, my mother, Judy Milton, married my father when she was eighteen years old, and by the time she was twenty, I’d already been born. My father, Jack, was twenty-three on his wedding day. So, my parents have this notion in their head that I have to follow in their footsteps, while also wanting me to be more successful than them, even though they own their own business and are doing quite well for themselves. I’m proud of my parents’ success, and that they met at an early age and have been able to stick together in a society where marriages end in divorce all the time. They’re stronger than any couple I know, but when it comes to me, they’ve got it all wrong.

  Milton Animal Clinic is owned by my father. He started this business when he was in his early thirties, after working for different veterinarians across Delaware. He’s fifty-three now, so he’s been running this business for a long time, and has made a good living. My mother has been right there beside him from the jump. She works at MAC as a groomer, but she’s also a partner with my father on the business. I started working at MAC on my sixteenth birthday, and I’m still here twelve years later, assisting my father with whatever he needs at our little family business.

  When I pull into the parking lot in my black Dodge pickup, I see the parking lot is missing a particular car. My closest friend is Melissa Backer. Missy for short, and I see that her red Infinity is missing from its usual spot in the corner. I don’t know what she has going on today, but her not being here is only going to make talking to my parents about Brandon that much harder. She’s usually a shoulder to cry on and a good buffer between me and my parents when things become too rocky in our work environment. Looks like I’ll be facing the judgemental eyes of Jack and Judy alone.

  The clinic isn’t open yet, so I have to use my key to unlock the door, even though my mother is behind the counter watching me struggle. She stands there in a maroon blouse and her dark brown hair hovering just above her shoulders. Her face is stern and unmoving as if it was filled with Botox, although it isn’t. I can tell from the particularly harsh glint in her eye that she’s already heard about me and Brandon, and she’s pissed.

  “Thanks for the help, Mom,” I say in lieu of a greeting once I manage to get past the locked door.

  Judy brings her eyes up to meet mine without moving her head. “When I offer my help, you don’t want to take it anyway. Why would today be any different?”

  “Ugh,” I spit back. “Is Dad in the back?”

  “Not yet,” my mother answers, her eyes going back to the computer screen in front of her. “He has an appointment in Dover this morning. It seems you and I have something to discuss on our own anyway, so I’m glad Jack isn’t here right now. I received a phone call from Brandon this weekend, and he told me you broke it off with him. Kicked him out of your house, even.”

  What?” I nearly shout. The frown on my face is so tense it hurts.

  “What has gotten into you, Tessa?” My mother goes on, ignoring my obvious confusion. “First, you stop coming to church with me and your father, and now you’ve broken up with a man you’ve been dating for two years. You seem to be making all these changes, and they’re wrong. Tell me what has gotten into you.”

  Instead of walking to the back, where I work with my father, I place my bag on the counter in front of me and lean against it to talk to my mother.

  “First of all, I didn’t break up with Brandon, Mom,” I announce. “He broke it off with me. It wasn’t me making any changes. It was him, so maybe you should lecture him about making the wrong changes in his life.”

  My mother scoffs. “Well, if that’s true, then you must’ve done something, Tessa. What could you possibly have done to make Brandon want to end things with you?”

  “What? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Oh please, of course you did. A man like Brandon wouldn’t just act on a whim. You did something, and you need to confront it so you can find it in yourself to apologize and get him back.”

  “Get him back? He dumped me, Mom. He doesn’t want to be with me, and I don’t feel like fighting to get him back if he doesn’t want me.”

  “Ava, when it comes to love, you have to let go of your selfishness,” my mother scolds with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You can't sit around expecting everyone to cater to your desires and flights of fancy. Brandon is a good man, and you’ll regret it if you end up missing out on him.”

  “Wow, Mom. Seriously? You sound just like him. I think I’ll be fine. I’ve cried my last tears over Brandon.”

  “How can you be so naive?” Judy snips. “Brandon works hard, and is probably going to make himself a lot of money some day. You mean to tell me you don’t want to be a part of that?”

  “Mom, I want to be happy,” I answer with pride, but it’s dismissed with another wave.

  “You need to be secure, Tessa. If all I cared about was my own happiness, me and your father never would’ve worked out. I had to sacrifice what I wanted so that we could be together. Now look at us. We have our business, and we make plenty of money. I’m happier now than I ever thought I wanted to be back then, and I just want the same for you.

  “You’re already twenty-eight, Tessa, and every year that passes, it becomes more and more difficult for someone your age to find a husband. You’re running out of time. Please listen to me. I don’t want you to end up alone.”

  If I frown any harder, I think my face will shatter. I knew she’d give me shit about losing Brandon, but I wasn’t sure how bad it would be. Now that I know, I wish I would’ve called in sick again. Without Missy here to vent to, this is going to be the longest Monday in history.

  “I don’t even know what to say to that,” I say, losing the will to argue with her. “I don’t know what you want from me. He dumped me because he wanted to go be with his band. He thinks he’s going to make it big, and making it big requires being single, apparently. I would think you’d have my back on this. He dumped me. He dumped your daughter. It’d be nice if one d
ay you could just be supportive, instead of trying to make me feel worse by placing all of the blame on me.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend, Tessa,” Judy fires back without hesitation. “I’m your mother, and it's my job to be honest with you, and tell you how to navigate through life. I’m older and wiser than you. I know what’s good for you, and I’m telling you if you don’t go fight for Brandon, you're going to regret it when you see him on TV in a few years. He’ll be out there spending his riches, and you’ll be here with me, filled to the brim with heartache."

  At this point, all I have the energy for is a disappointed shake of my head.

  “I just want what’s best for you, Tessa,” Judy repeats. “Just think about it. Do you really want to end up alone? Are you really ready to sacrifice everything so that you can be happy? No relationship is perfect. They take work. You shouldn’t just throw two years down the drain. Brandon might not be perfect, but he’s going to be successful, and you could be right there on his arm when he’s out and about, spending his millions on a brand new house for you to live in. Something tells me you'd be really happy then. Just get over yourself and think about it, Tessa. Don’t mess this up.”

  With that, my mother turns on her heel and walks to the back of the clinic, leaving me at the counter with nothing but the tears I promised myself I wouldn’t shed anymore.

  Chapter Ten

  ~ Tessa ~

  The therapist’s office feels different this time. It’s bigger without Brandon next to me. I don’t feel trapped under the weight of his constant judgement, yet I feel more uncomfortable right now. Things haven’t been the same, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected by it all. If I wasn’t affected, I probably wouldn’t even continue these sessions, but here I am.

  Dr. Malcolm Colson sits across from me with one leg crossed over the other. He’s wearing light gray pants with a white button-up accented with gray buttons that match his pants. His shoes are white with gray strings that match the buttons. He’s immaculate, and his green eyes look at me as if I’m the only person he has ever seen. He’s focused, and even without saying a word, I feel like he cares. Dr. Colson is great at making me feel like I’m his only patient and therefore the most important, even though I know he’s constantly taking on new clients. He’s great at his job, and that’s perfect because I need him to be at his best for me now.