Chapter 27
James
My anger surges to the surface. I could fucking kill him, rip him apart for calling Isabelle that.
I haven’t punched someone in years, but I’d happily start again right now just to see that sneer ripped from his face.
My gut churns with fury, and my jaw clenches so hard I can feel my teeth grinding.
It’s purely Isabelle’s touch on my arm leading me away that stops me from kicking the shit out of him.
Hearing her talk down to Daniel that way also does things to me I don’t expect.
She has a feisty, nasty side, and I’m eager to hear more.
“Isabelle, he had no right to talk to you that way,” I bite, trying desperately to suppress my rage.
“Yeah, well, neither do any other men, yet they feel totally entitled to talk to women that way when they’re rejected. It’s his issue. Don’t make it ours.”
Ours.
Yes, Miss
I like how she says that. I’ve been so alone these past few years, I’d forgotten what it’s like to be in a relationship.
My breathing evens out, and my heart rate slows to normal.
How she takes everything in her stride amazes me.
The only time I’ve ever seen her anything but calm was when she had her extra piano lessons as a student.
Back then, she had been quiet, almost distracted and withdrawn for a while.
The need to know what happened back then consumes my thoughts as we both drive our cars to the nearby restaurant.
I walk across the parking lot to meet her as she climbs out.
Holding her door open for her, I offer my hand.
Her soft fingers interlace with mine, and electricity shoots through me.
My stomach flips as I look down at her. Her waves fall over her shoulders, her blouse buttoned up a little more than it had been in the music room.
Her pale, creamy skin glows as she smiles up at me, looking like an innocent angel while knowing she’s anything but.
We’ve only fooled around so far, but God, I crave her touch—the feeling of her silky soft skin against mine, her warmth, her soft apple scent invading my senses. The way her gentle voice controls me, soothes me, makes me want to hold back just to please her.
I want to be inside of her. I want to feel her around me, to hear her moans as I fuck her just the way she likes it.
I’ve pictured taking control with her, like she mentioned that night in the club—the side of me that’s
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more of a switch. But the way she talked about bondage makes me think there’s a history there we need to discuss.
We take a seat at a window table at the back of the restaurant.
I pull Isabelle’s chair back for her to sit, and we order a bottle of wine.
The waiter brings the bottle and glasses, and as we take our first sip, I broach the subject I’ve been wanting to talk about.
Nerves run through me at the thought of getting the answer I’ve been fearing.
Taking a deep breath, I start, “Iz, when we talked about limits, you went quiet about restraints. Is there something I need to know? I’m not trying to pry, but I think we should discuss anything that might cause an issue.
” I pause, hesitancy creeping into my voice. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Iz.”
She looks out the window and sighs, taking a large gulp of her wine.
“I don’t want to get into too much detail right now, James, because I want to enjoy tonight, but all I’ll say is, I was in an unhealthy relationship with someone who didn’t respect my boundaries, and there was non-consensual activity while I was forcibly restrained. ”
It feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach. I want to throw up. Has she been raped? “Iz—”
“James,” she interrupts, her look firm yet soft. “I’m okay. I’ve moved on, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore, please. Maybe at some point, but not now.”
Yes, Miss
“Can I ask one more question?” I venture. She nods and sits back, looking down into her glass. “Was it when you were having piano lessons with me?” Her head snaps up, and she fixes me with a look of shock.
“Erm, actually, yes, it was. I assume by that question I hadn’t hidden it as well as I thought I had.”
Shit. She was eighteen then. If I had known, I would have helped her, supported her. I was her teacher. I feel sick to my stomach that she dealt with this without the school’s support.
“Iz, why didn’t you say anything to me? I could have helped you. I was your teacher. I knew something was up,” my voice pleads. I wish I could go back in time and help her. It was my job to look after my students and report concerns. Moreover, I wanted to help.
“James, I’m not discussing it now. Please, leave it. There was nothing you could have done; it was over by that point. Don’t let it eat you up. Speaking of which, let’s order. I’m starving!”
She picks up her menu and starts to read it, making it clear this conversation is over.
We eat our meal, talking about our families, music, and film tastes, relaxing into just getting to know each other more. Watching her face light up as she tells her stories and talks about her friends from university is mesmerising. Listening to the obvious love she has for her friends and
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how they’ve supported her makes me eager to meet them at some point. I suppose it’s fair when she asks me what happened with Laura.
“Why did you two split up?” she asks, leaning forward, her chin resting in her hand, elbows propped on the table.
The other hand swirls her glass, the dim lighting of the restaurant glinting on her deep blue eyes.
The food finished long ago, and the second bottle has been opened, conversation now flowing easily.
I take a deep breath, wondering how to explain how I had been made to feel so inadequate, so disgusting, how Laura sought out another man to be happy with. I can’t avoid telling Isabelle; she’s been honest with me, if a little reserved, but that’s understandable given what had happened.
I take another mouthful of wine, trying to summon up the courage.
“Laura and I had been going well, but things got stale between us. We talked about what we wanted from the relationship, our sex life, what did it for us, what we wanted to try. I’d always liked pleasing her, and she’d always been happy with that aspect… ”
Isabelle snorts a laugh. “I bet she was! Sorry… Keep going.”
“I told her I would like it if she took charge, bossed me about a bit, you know.”
Yes, Miss
"Okay, and?”
"Well, she looked like I’d just said I wanted to involve animals or something! She said no man should want to be bossed about by a woman; a man should be a man and take control. I’d always been happy to do that, but there’d always been that little idea that I’d like her to take charge.”
"Oh, James, that’s a horrid response. I’m so sorry.”
"Anyway,” I continue, feeling the need to get it all out now.
“When I said I’d find it hot if she, maybe, called me a few names, told me what to do, stuff like that, she freaked out.
We ended up arguing. She called me a filthy pervert, disgusting, said I should be on some kind of register and I’m not safe to be around kids.
She said she’d never consider me safe as a parent, stuff like that, and at that point, I knew it was over. I felt so awful.”
I shrug, trying to steady my voice from the emotion I can feel building.
“Turns out she’d met someone else anyway. When the divorce came through, she told me to my face she had another man, one who knew how to be a real man.” My voice breaks off at that point. Too scared to look up and see the same look on Isabelle’s face, I concentrate on my wine.
"I want to skin the bitch alive,” she grinds out. “How fucking dare she? Does she not realise how much of an
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honour it is to have a man on his knees, worshipping you, begging to please you, and trusting you with their wellbeing and pleasure?
” She shakes her head in disgust. “A real man? What the actual fuck? A real man who can’t acknowledge his own feelings?
Feels the need to be all macho and in charge…
Oh, James, she better hope and pray I never meet her,” Isabelle spits, anger flashing through her features.
Holy crap, angry Isabelle is stunning. She’s fierce, and I’m hooked.
She places a hand on mine. The soft feel of her skin, the gentle touch she gives, ground me back in the here and now as I focus on her rather than the past that continues to haunt me.
“James, you are everything a man should be, and I’m so angry she made you feel inadequate.
If we’re doing this, us, I need you to understand something.
You are every inch a real man. I will do everything in my power to support you, to lift you up and care for you, but I need you to do that for yourself too.
I need you to understand that and really feel it in here.
” She pauses and taps at her heart. “It will take time, I know, but you are better without that bitch.”
I look up into her face, her eyes locked on mine, and her hand slides across the table, resting on mine once again. Her skin warms mine, sending sparks flying up my arm.
Yes, Miss
Hearing her say all this gives me hope, but I’m also hesitant. What if she’s just saying this to make me feel better? What if she changes her mind when she sees what I like? What if she runs a mile and agrees with Laura?
Because I’m a filthy pervert.
But if Isabelle likes this stuff too… Is she a pervert?
The idea of someone thinking that of her makes me furious.
She isn’t. She’s confident, caring, and sensual.
But reconciling that with myself? I can’t.
It took me so long to reassure myself that I’m not a danger to children like Laura said.
I love children. I love teaching, watching them grow and develop into young adults.
I feared Laura would tell Rebecca I was a danger and cause issues at work, but she never went that far.
Lucky me. I wouldn’t have put it past her.
She could be a special kind of cruel when she wanted to be.
“James?” Isabelle says cautiously. “I want to ask you properly, and I want you to feel free to say whatever you want to, okay?”
I nod, suddenly curious about what she’s about to ask.
She smiles at me softly. “Would you like to be my submissive, and I, your Domme? Would you like to try this? We can take it slow. And when we try different things, I want you to feel able to talk honestly and openly with me about how you feel. We can adjust limits as we go along… If that’s what you want. ” She takes a sip of her
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wine, keeping her eyes fixed on mine, like she’s trying to search for any clues on how I’m feeling about it all.
My mind freezes.
Oh shit.
Okay. We’re really doing this.
The sensation of falling off a cliff hits me. The thought of jumping into an actual relationship with Isabelle isn’t just normal anymore. It’s this added dynamic. This is my chance to experience this side of me.
“Yes… I trust you. Completely,” I stammer. “And if you’ll have me, I’d like to.” I hesitate, doubt creeping in. Does she want this as a relationship at all? What if I’ve read this all wrong? “Is this purely a bedroom thing, or…?”
“It’s a full-time thing. Our dynamic. At least, that’s what I want.
But it’s up to you. It’s more of a lifestyle thing.
” She laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna walk you around on a collar and leash at work!
Our work is our work. We stay professional.
It won’t interfere with our careers. That’s a guarantee. ”
“Then… yes. I’d like to.”
My hand moves atop hers, and I hold on tight. She leans across the table, her lips brushing mine in a soft, gentle kiss.
Yes, Miss
Her breath plays on my cheeks, and then she whispers in my ear. “Good. Because I’m going to fucking destroy you. Every thought she ever left in there, every hang-up you have, every part of that past… I’m going to tear it down, bit by bit.”
Her finger trails across my other cheek, down my jawline to my neck, sending goosebumps down my spine.
“And when you think you don’t even know who you are anymore… I’m going to show you the real you. Your strength. Your beauty. And you’ll never look back.”
My breath catches as her hand closes around my throat, squeezing gently.
Her lips are soft as they trail kisses across my jaw.
My cock thickens in my pants, my balls tightening.
My pulse pounds against her fingertips as I close my eyes, savouring the sensation of her skin against mine, the soft floral scent of her perfume, the heat of her full lips tracing my jaw.
She draws back, looking me square in the eyes. Her pupils are dilated, her gaze dark in the dim lighting. Her hand still grips my throat, holding me there for a few more seconds. A small smile plays on her lips before she finally relaxes her grip.
My breathing quickens.
She taps my cheek, grinning, then giggles like it’s the most innocent thing in the world.
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“Now, be a good boy for me and call a taxi. I’m taking you home and fucking you. Tonight, I’m making you all mine. Taking every inch of you. Making you beg for more.” She sits back, drains the last of her wine, and picks up her bag.
Meanwhile, I’m still sitting there, stunned, needing a minute before I can even stand.
She’s truly going to ruin me.
And I’m looking forward to every second of it.