Chapter Eight
Marcus
I back my truck into the garage and head into the kitchen. Lunch with the guys took a lot out of me. They asked too many questions, and I gave too much information. I had kept Lauren a secret for two years, but now that streak is over.
I walk to the couch and flop down, sinking in and covering my eyes with my arm. I attempt to clear my mind, wanting to think clearly about the situation I’m in. While I was speaking about Lauren with the guys, I realized she had been sort of a safety net for me in the time I’ve known her. I’ve had a friend that I could be open and honest with about anything in life, but I also had a sexual outlet. Between her and the crew, all my needs were covered.
I met Lauren one afternoon at a bar I stopped in for a drink after work. She sat down beside me, shy, but frazzled. She had a rough day of labs and the whole last year of college stress factor was through the roof. We ended up talking for three hours that night. We started hanging out after that, trips to the farmer’s market, early mornings at the gym, me helping her with school work. Our first kiss was two months later, then a month after that, we had sex for the first time.
That night was so goddamn fun. We drank and played pool, then she challenged me that I wouldn’t go into a sex shop with her. Not one to back down, we found one right outside of the city and that’s when she led me around the store, hinting at how interested she was in the more ‘taboo items’, as she called them. We left with a blindfold, pink rope and a flog. I was so turned on that, when I dropped her off, I walked her straight to her bedroom and fucked her. We didn’t use any of the things we bought, but when she asked me to spank her halfway through, it confirmed that I had found someone I could have fun with.
But she could never be an option for my father’s wishes. First of all, she’s young, twenty-three, and wants to be single, refusing any need to be in a fully committed relationship. Secondly, our dynamic isn’t one that I would want to develop into anything more. Our history doesn’t allow for any expansion of feelings.
Lauren has been my submissive for the past year. Sure, we started as just two people with a lot of kinks hooking up, having a good time, pushing our boundaries. Then we decided to delve into a different realm. She wanted to explore serving someone, being dominated in other areas of life outside of the bedroom. I was intrigued by the responsibility and the thought of controlling someone’s body and someone allowing me to direct their everyday activities. She’s the first woman that I felt comfortable exploring that side of myself with. I’ve always liked sex to be a bit rough, not very vanilla, but what Lauren and I partake in would probably scare the average woman, or at the very least, they wouldn’t understand it. And that’s just the physical aspect. There’s also the daily check in requirements, sending me pictures of her food so I know she eats, sending me pictures of grades and letting me know how she slept.
Those are the facets of our relationship that I thrive on. The way she lets me help guide her in life. Helping her work through issues and being a trusted figure in her life that she can count on are things that I have come to like just as much as the sex. I feel needed; I feel like I make an impact on her growth.
I’m not sure if I could ever find another situation like this. Maybe that’s why I’ve stayed in it for so long. But I know deep down, as long as I keep seeing Lauren, I won’t look for a companion. I have to leave her comfort and convenience and approach other women. As much as I hate to give up what’s been a perfect situation for me, it’s not in me to date a woman while fucking someone else on the side.
I pull my phone from my pocket and pull up her text thread. I release a shaky breath as I hit send on a text asking if she’s free tonight. She quickly responds, telling me I can come over anytime after six. I set my phone on the couch and know tonight I have to tell her I can’t see her anymore.
It’s almost seven when I knock on Lauren’s door. My mind is a mess with what I’ll say to her. She opens it, and my chest tightens. Her dark eyes sparkle and her pink lips form the sweetest smile. Fuck, why is this going to be so hard?
“Hi, Marcus.”
I step inside, closing the door behind me. I pull her to me, the smell of her gardenia perfume surrounding me. “Hey, baby girl.”
She looks at my shirt, then up to my face, a bit confused. “You’re wearing a t-shirt.”
I slowly nod. One of my signals to her that we’re going to play is showing up in a button-down shirt. She knows a scene has started when I take my watch off. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.” She leads me to her couch, pauses to allow me to sit, then curls up in my lap.
I start playing with her hair, the strands soft between my fingers. I hold her tight to me, knowing this is the last time I’ll hold her like this.
“I had a meeting with my father that didn’t go well this week.”
She knows the struggles I’ve experienced over the years with my father. She even knows about what happened during my childhood. As a dom, some of us also try to heal through BDSM, just as some subs do, so I needed to open up to her about that part of my life so she could better understand my needs and triggers.
She brings her eyes to mine. “What happened, sir?” The use of my name is like a dagger wrenched into my side. “He told me that he won’t hand over the business unless I get married.”
Her eyes dart back and forth between mine as she works through what I said. I watch as realization and sadness set in.
“Oh.”
“I know that isn’t anything you want right now.”
“No, it’s not.”
I see her face change. I think she realizes what I’m about to do. I need her close to me, so I put my hand in her hair and pull her to my chest. “You mean so much to me, Lauren. You’ve let me be myself. You’ve helped me work through things no one else could, and every single thing you’ve achieved, I couldn’t be prouder.” I pause, the weight of what I have to say next pressing down on me.
“But?” she whispers, the question a barely-there breath.
I kiss her hair, feeling the familiar warmth of her. “But I have to let you go. If we keep this... I’ll never be able to put myself out there the way I need to. And I won’t be able to give you what you deserve.”
She nods against my chest, her fingers tracing quiet patterns over the fabric of my shirt. She’s silent for a long moment, then her arms come up around my neck, holding on as if I might slip away right there.
“I understand. I’m going to miss you so much, Marcus. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Fuck, my heart is breaking. Maybe this is good. I’ve become too attached to her.
“Will you text me, call sometimes? So I know you’re alright?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. If I do, I’ll want more than a call, more than just a message. And it wouldn’t be fair.”
Her lips press tight, and she gives a small nod. She brushes her lips over my cheeks, then each side of my mouth, lingering there, her breath warm against mine. My hand slips up to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, and I let my lips rest on hers, soft, almost tentative.
“One more time,” she murmurs against my lips, her voice trembling. “Please, Sir.”
I rest my forehead on hers, eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Lauren,” I whisper, my voice catching. “I can’t—not if I know it’s the last time.”
Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and she nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, a helpless ache in the words.
She gives a small, painful smile. “We had fun, didn’t we?”
I nod, swallowing the ache in my chest. “We did.”
For a while, we sit in silence, holding onto these last, quiet moments. Finally, she shifts beside me, her gaze steady. “I’m ready to go to bed now.”
I rise with her, walking to the door. I take one last look at her—her features etched in my mind, each one softened by memories I won’t forget. My hand rests on the handle, lingering before I finally pull the door open.
“Goodnight, Lauren.”
“Goodnight, Marcus.”
And with that, I step out, leaving her behind.