Just A Woman (Marina: Part Two: Naughty Nookie Series) by Serena Akeroyd

I’m in control.  You give me that
power.  Only you.  When you came to this bedroom last night and
didn’t go back to yours when I told you to, you made the decision.  You
handed control to me.  But it’s only there for as long as you want to gift
it.  It’s time to choose a safe word.”
    I won’t lie. 
My stomach feels as though a hard band is wrapped around it.  It’s hard to
breathe, hard to focus.  Am I really doing this?  He says it’s there,
buried deep down.  Is it?  I don’t know.  Will it do any harm to
experiment? 
    My lips tremble as
I whisper, “Papillon.”
    “Your brothel?”
    I shrug. 
“It’s a word, isn’t it?”
    He nods. 
“Very well.  How many times did you misbehave last night?”
    Nate doesn’t have
to tell me to be honest.  Sat in the chair, legs slightly spread, back
against the rest, he looks both relaxed, yet totally in control.  His face
is lined with pain, pain I caused but otherwise, he’s as handsome as
ever.  Something about him has always set my body to quivering.  With
his disability, many might think him a lesser man.  To me, I don’t even
see the missing limb.  He’s everything. 
    Power.
 Glory.  Grace. 
    Could be he’s
right.  Around him, I do feel different.  Like a woman.  Not a
twenty-first century go-getter.  Out to prove that she can do everything a
guy can, but better.  Out to unman every poor male in a hundred mile
perimeter.  Willing to shove a broom up my ass and sweep the floor as I
control every aspect of my world.
    No.  He makes
me a woman again.  I always pegged it down to being Uncle Sam’s
influence.  The door-opening and meal-ordering.  The taking-charge,
be it in the bedroom or over the day’s activities... all of it, tiny signs that
he was in control.  Not me.
    And I liked
it.  For the weekends we were together, I reveled in being with him. 
But I’m at Blue Ridge now.  Full-time.  Probably forever!  Could
I endure what Nate wants for all time? 
    I guess we’ll find
out.
    Despite my nerves,
my body quivers in reaction to his presence.  His clothing is simple,
practical for the ranch but the lack of polish does something to my
insides.  Jeans cover his bottom half; a blue T-shirt covers his torso and
the bandages beneath.  Even the slogan on his shirt is forceful. 
Telling me to just do it, I whisper, “Four times.”
    “Good girl,” he
murmurs and then, pats his knee.  “I want you to rest your weight on my
lap.  Bend over and settle yourself until you’re as comfortable as can
be.”
    My legs are still
quivering as I stand and step towards his side.  I bend my knees and lower
myself forward until my chest and torso are leaning against the hard
muscularity of his lap.  Ironically, even though he’s seen me naked a
thousand times, I’m unbearably relieved he allowed me to keep on my
shirt.  Pressing my weight on to my hands, I wiggle until I’m more
comfortable and then, blowing out a breath, revert to stillness. 
    He sits up; I can
feel the play of his muscles as I’m jerked a little thanks to his
movements.  He bends over me, so close I can feel the brush of his breath
against my ear.  “If I thought you were trying to tease, Marina, that
would mean another punishment.  You do not tease me .”
    My eyes widen at
his statement and I turn my head to the side to look at him.  “I wasn’t.”
    “I know.  I’m
just saying.  Educating you for future reference.”
    I swallow. 
“Okay.”
    He sits back but
his hands wrap around my side so that he takes me with him, dragging me so my
legs settle over the armrest and my head shares the same support on the
opposite side.  His prosthetic wedges me in place on his knee by gripping
my waist.  I guess so I can’t fall off.
    Feeling more
comfortable, in the physical sense, I relax a little then tense when his hand
roams over the length of my bared thighs.  Back and forth, back and
forth.  Callused fingers scrape against delicate flesh,