His Perfect Submissive
Alyssa Aaron
ISBN 0-9774682-0-8

Erotic Domestic Discipline Romance
304 paperback pages
Multi-format ebook $5.99
Paperback $13.99
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Alyssa Aaron has created two wonderful characters that will involve you in their story of tenderness, fear, dominance, submission and what happens when all of the emotions involved come to a head.  Slade and Kara are believable and the depth of emotions shared and hidden will strike at the heart of any who have considered the BDSM lifestyle, or even thought about it. To be truly mastered…to truly submit…gifts or horrors you can find on the internet? Which is right? Who will be proved correct?  “His Perfect Submissive” will show you the way this particular dominant teaches his chosen sub, but will she be able to learn? Can she set aside a history of pain and anguish and follow his path?

 Lee Rush – Author -- Bound by Fate and Love of a Pendant Heart from The Crimson Z

His Perfect Submissive was a delight to read. The depth of some relationships is tricky to portray, but this debut book, from this stunning author, captures it beautifully.  Once I picked up the book, I did not want to put it down.  The characterization was sensitive and I found myself empathising with both hero and heroine.  The plot is a triumph of subtle twists and turns, showing the trust that goes into a domination and submission relationship. I can’t wait to read Alyssa’s next book.

Richard Savage – Author – Temporally Yours & The Key and  The Anniversary from The Crimson Z

His Perfect Submissive

Kara hated waiting.

She perched nervously on the edge of the gray leather chair in the tastefully decorated reception area and waited for Slade Westin to return to his office. The spacious waiting area was decorated in shades of cream, teal, and gray. Watercolor paintings of skyscrapers, malls, and office buildings complete with perfect landscapes and glass vestibules graced the walls. The décor was rich, pleasing, and designed to impress.

Coming up with a way to raise the money her brother had embezzled hadn’t been easy. She’d spent half the night crunching numbers and calculating. The figures hadn’t lied. If she took the maximum cash advances on her credit cards and borrowed against every cent in her 401k, she’d be able to come up with exactly fifteen thousand, half of what her brother had stolen from Mr. Westin.
 
She’d taken the day off work and come to his office without an appointment. She planned to sit in his office until he gave up and saw her, or had her arrested for trespassing, whichever came first.

Whether she made any headway or not she had to try one last time to make him see that he would gain nothing by going to the police. She hoped coming in person and having some cash, as a down payment, would go a ways in changing his mind.

If it didn’t?  She wouldn’t let herself go there. She couldn’t. The ramifications of failure were too great. Her mother would be beside herself. The stress of having her son on trial and then having him in jail would be a lethal blow to her mother’s already failing health. While she knew her brother was spoiled, immature, and way too impulsive for his own good, she loved him. No matter how much he might deserve whatever he got from Mr. Westin or the police, she just couldn’t stand by and let him go to prison. Especially, if she could do something, anything, that would help.

Slade exited his private elevator and strode into the reception area of his office. His receptionist, Leanne, had died her hair a shocking red today. He smothered a grin. Changing her hair color was her latest form of rebellion against the corporate dress code, and he secretly enjoyed her mutinous protest.

Leanne looked up and reached for a stack of messages. “Ms Hastings is here to see you, Mr. Westin,” she said, handing him the messages.

God, deliver me, Slade thought with a sigh. He knew what she wanted. He didn’t want to play. He’d already made it abundantly clear that he intended to turn the matter over to the police and let them sort out the details.

He thumbed through the stack of messages, knowing he didn’t have much choice about seeing her. She was sitting in the reception area and had probably overheard Leanne tell him she was waiting. Still, he wanted to put off the inevitable as long as possible.

He turned and headed toward his office, hoping for a smooth getaway. “Mr. Westin?” a soft female voice asked.

“That’s me,” Slade answered turning toward the voice with a resigned sigh.

“I’m Kara Hastings. We talked on the phone yesterday. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this.”

He lifted his gaze from the stack of messages he’d been sorting. His annoyance at her intrusion dissolved as he allowed his gaze to glide over her.

Innocent. The single word echoed in his brain, reverberating like a sharp kick to some buried part of his soul. The descriptive encompassed her and described her perfectly, yet left plenty of room for expansion into the many layers he sensed buried beneath her surface.

He let his eyes linger on the soft waves of dark hair that hung loose around a pretty face with a pert nose. Her peaches and cream skin glowed softly making his fingers itch to touch the soft line of her cheek and the full swell of her lip.

Her soft musky perfume teased his nostrils as her wide brown eyes skittered away from his. They echoed a hint of shyness and sadness that didn’t quite detract from her attractiveness.

She was dressed simply in black slacks and a white sweater that hung off her shoulders. The soft folds of the sweater brushed the full softness of her breasts before drifting downward to skim full rounded hips. The thick folds ended precisely at her knees.

Some would consider her overweight but he found her softness perfect. She was rounded and soft in a way that had him reining in thoughts of plunging hard maleness into female softness.

The shy way she waited for him to take the lead stirred the sensation of deep protectiveness in him.

“Come on back Kara,” he sighed, going against his own better judgment, which clamored distantly in his mind.

“Thank you for seeing me Mr. Westin,” she said softly as she followed him down the hallway toward his office. Her voice was smooth as caramel and just as sweet, he thought as he paused to open the door before ushering her inside.

Sexy. The word hung in his mind baffling him. It’d been three years since he’d allowed himself to think of sex or of anything remotely connected to it.

“Have a seat Kara,” he offered as he sat down behind his desk.

He rested his elbows on the desk, heaved a sigh and tented his fingers as he studied her. His first inclination had been to reiterate his plan to turn her brother’s case over to the police and send her on her way but something about her, the sweetness, and the buried sadness in her eyes tugged at him, and God help him he wanted to help her.

“I told you yesterday that your brother’s case was a matter for the police. So far I haven’t heard anything that has changed my mind about that,” he said.

Her expression tightened, and she bowed her head. “I know you said you weren’t interested in taking payments but— Is there any chance you might change your mind about it?”

He felt a jolt of sympathy. She was sweet and innocent. He knew it hadn’t been her that had inflated expenses and pocketed the difference. It bothered him to see her cowed in shame.

“It will take me a few weeks but I can get advances from my credit cards and borrow against my 401k. I can give you fifteen thousand as a down payment on what my brother stole and pay the rest in payments.”

“Kara,” he sighed, wanting to punch her brother’s lights out for bringing shame on her. “My problem with taking payments isn’t the money itself. I could afford to forgive the money entirely and it wouldn’t change my standard of living even a little bit.”

“If it’s not the money then why not take the payments and move on?”

“It is not the damned money; I won’t get the money back by going to the police, at least not for a long time.” His voice came out harsher than he intended and laced with the frustration he felt toward her brother. Ted was talented, and up until the accounting department had brought the questionable numbers to his attention he had planned to promote him.

“What did Ted do with the money?” he asked his voice softening. “Any chance he still has any of it? “

Kara shook her head and dipped her chin. There’s that shame again, he thought. “He got caught up in gambling again. He’s had problems before and I should have known he was in trouble when he had money, but I didn’t.” She shrugged, her voice small and filled with guilt. “Things were really tight financially and I was just glad he was finally getting things together and was able to help out a little.”

Damn it to hell. He hated gambling and the pain it caused its innocent victims. Remembered sadness filled him as he recalled his fourth birthday and the excitement that had fired his blood as he’d looked forward to a real party with friends from Sunday school and balloons and everything. In the end the party hadn’t happened. The sheriff had shown up and hauled the family’s meager belongings to the curb and in the struggle to find another place to live his birthday party had been forgotten. It hadn’t been the first or the last time his family had been evicted due to his father’s gambling the rent money on a horse that couldn’t lose or a football game that was a sure thing.

Slade leaned back in his chair and sighed. He wondered what financial obligations Kara was struggling under that her brother was shirking.

He felt the stirring of dominance he’d worked to bury and an irrational desire to protect her from the pain gamblers brought on their families.

He studied the blunt tips of his tented fingers. He could take the worry of her brother going to jail off her shoulders. He didn’t have to go to the police. Helping her would cost him thirty thousand dollars, but it was a doable solution. He could afford the loss. Not going public with the embezzlement scandal would save a lot of negative press and questions around how her brother had managed to skim thirty thousand dollars without being immediately caught.

Financially it was probably a wash. If the negative press cost him even one contract it could easily cost him hundreds of thousands more than the thirty thousand her brother had taken.

He liked Kara. She stirred his protective instincts and made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in a long, long time.

Still, gambling was an addiction. If her brother was addicted he probably needed to be allowed to hit bottom. He worried that without the threat of jail Ted would continue to gamble until he was in so deep he couldn’t get out and that would be worse for Kara in the long run.

“What about your parents Kara?”

“My dad is dead. Her head was tipped forward; her eyes focused on her lap. “Mom has heart disease and emphysema. She doesn’t know about Ted’s—problems. I don’t want to tell her if I don’t have to. Sh-she is not well and I’m afraid that the stress of a trial would j-just be the end. The doctors say she doesn’t have l-long and I don’t want her last to be—” She sucked in an audible breath and bit her lip before rushing on. “Well—you know what I mean—”

Slade thought for a minute she was going to cry and didn’t know what he’d do if she did.

He was spared from further consideration on the matter when the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Mr. Westin, Mr. Blake is here.”

“Put him in the conference room, I’ll be finished in a minute.”

“I’m sorry to intrude on your day,” Kara said softly.

“It’s not a problem Kara,” he said and meant it.  “Ted has created one hell of a big mess. I don’t know yet what I’m going to do about it, but you’ve given me a lot to think about. When I’ve made a decision I’ll let you know.”

He stood and Kara followed suit. “Thank you Mr. Westin. I appreciate your kindness and your willingness to at least think about meeting me half way.”

“You’re welcome Kara, but don’t thank me yet. I’m not guaranteeing you any outcome at this point.”

Chapter 2

Slade stirred and woke with a start. He’d been dreaming of Kara. The musky floral scent she wore still teased the sleep-tinged corners of his mind and the soft, husky tenor of her voice still filled his ears.

Between the cobwebs of remembered sleep and the scattered pieces of dreams he’d dislodged when he woke there was the solid knowledge that he wanted her.

Through no intention of her own, Kara’s sweet, innocent, nature had breathed life into long forgotten places. After she’d left his office he’d felt a sexual tug toward the natural dominance he’d buried. In one short meeting she’d managed to nudge to life all the dominant feelings he’d buried after Susan walked out.

He propped one arm behind his head, completely awake now. Kara’s untapped submissive quality mystified him and left him wondering how he’d managed to miss it at first. The signs were obvious in retrospect. It had been plain in the way she’d waited for him to take the lead in his office and again in the way her gaze had kept scooting away from his.

Kara didn’t ooze sexual confidence. Certainly not the blatant form of tie me up, beat me, and make me suck your cock submission that Susan had. Kara’s passive quality ran deeper than that and seemed more a part of her true nature than Susan’s had ever been. Susan had played a role, always trying to realize what she perceived dominance and submission to be while Kara was submissive at her core.

It was odd to realize after so many years of carrying around bitter disillusionment, that what he’d thought was real with Susan had been little more than wishful thinking on his part.

Susan had been a scorcher, a candle burning at both ends. She had never wanted love or protection. She’d wanted only dominance. To her domination wasn’t a combination of give and take. She wanted only the limit pushing extremes of pain and humiliation. Even when they’d made love she’d always wanted it rough.

The more he’d given in to her desire for the rougher side of dominance the more she’d wanted. Finally he’d bumped up against his own hard limits. They’d come to an impasse in the relationship when she’d wanted him to cut her and he’d refused. The relationship had deteriorated after that and she’d ended things within a few weeks.

The end of the relationship had left him disillusioned. He’d dated for awhile after Susan, but the women he’d met had either not been submissive at all or had been into playing at submissiveness, or they had been seeking the extremes like Susan. He’d dated a few that were more interested in his wallet than in him and that had gotten old too. There had been no one that had aroused the desire to protect and dominate that Kara had incited within just a few minutes.

The whole dating game had left him disheartened. After awhile he’d stopped believing that there was anyone who wanted the same things he wanted.

Meeting Kara had stirred hope within him. He’d noticed the difference within himself right away. Susan’s desire for rough sex had made him want to push limits and force her submission. Kara’s sweet, sexy innocence made him want to wrap her in pleasure and shelter her from ugliness.

He let his mind wander as he thought about what he wanted. An image of Kara in his kitchen, wearing pink fuzzy slippers and his terry robe came to mind. Her hair was tangled and tumbled around her face as she stirred cream into his morning coffee.

As that image receded he saw her lying on the couch in front of a blazing fire. Her head rested on a pillow in his lap, the rest of her stretched out on the couch. The firelight cast dancing shadows across the soft planes of her face. The woodsy smell of the fire mingled with the musky woman scent of her, teasing his nostrils. She stretched, pulling silk pajamas taut across her hips and breasts as she turned to look up at him. Her gaze was filled with such trust and adoration that it left him reeling.

He looked down at her, his expression a combination of indulgence and dominance as he stroked her soft breasts that swelled against the peach silk of her pajamas. She moaned, softly, her dark eyes fixed on his, as she arched into his palm. “Oh god, that feels so good” she moaned in a soft husky voice that made his cock twitch. Her soft whimper of pleasure when his fingers found and stroked her hardening nipples made him feel powerful and protective.

He imagined her beneath him then, her soft brown eyes fixed on his as he fucked her. In his mind’s eye each deep, hard thrust of his powerful body drove them both toward a crescendo of pleasure and onward to shattering orgasm. She clung to him; her eyes open as she willfully submitted her body and her soul to his mastery.

He wanted her. The knowledge struck him hard, then settled into him with a sensation of rightness that he couldn’t ignore.

He didn’t want to wait to have her, didn’t want to waste time playing dating games. He didn’t need to date her to know that he wanted her, not as a one-time deal, not temporarily, but forever.

As he thought about the situation with Kara and her brother an idea began to form. He could use Ted to force her to marry him. He was almost certain she would agree to marriage, even one that seemed strange to her, if it meant her brother wouldn’t face the threat of prosecution.

He sighed as the plan formed in his mind. He would offer to forgive her brother’s theft and not turn over the evidence he held against him if she agreed to marry him. He would make forgiveness of the money dependent on her staying married to him for one year and on Ted getting treatment for his gambling addiction.

He needed the year to show Kara that a relationship based on his control and her willing surrender was what she wanted too. He wanted her brother to get help with his gambling problem. The last thing he needed was for him to get in more trouble with the law. He knew that if Ted continued on the same course, at some point neither he nor Kara would be able to drag him out of trouble. He wouldn’t stand by doing nothing and see Kara hurt again.

He didn’t feel particularly good about using the situation with her brother to force her into a marriage she wasn’t ready for, but he believed that in the end the marriage would be good for everyone concerned. He would have Kara in his life and eventually in his bed. She would be protected from her brother and would be well loved and cared for. Ted would escape prison and be forced to get the help he needed. All in all it wasn’t a bad solution to the mess that had been dropped in his lap.

The big question looming in his mind was how Kara would react to his proposal. He knew she was inexperienced with men and he expected her inexperience to give her serious misgivings, especially considering he was almost a stranger. He knew too that if he were to be fair to her he would have to explain that their relationship would be based on dominance and submission.

* * * *

She picked up the phone on the second ring, swallowing a mouth full of hot coffee before she muttered hello.

“Kara?”

“Yes.” She put her mug on the counter as her mind scrambled to place the voice on the other end of the line. The
deep voice was familiar, yet she couldn’t immediately place it.

“This is Slade Westin. I hope I’m not waking you.”

“No, Mr. Westin. I’m awake. I have to get up early for work.” She hadn’t expected him to call quite so soon and now that he had, she didn’t know whether to be glad to hear from him or worried. His voice gave her no clue as to what his call meant for her brother.

“Good, I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” She thought she detected a smile in his deep throaty voice and felt a tendril of relief wash through her. “I think I have a solution that will be acceptable to both of us.”

“You do? Really? That’s wonderful.” She felt truly happy for the first time in the weeks since her brother had told her about the trouble he was in. “What is it?”

“It’s rather—involved. I’d rather go over it with you in person. Can you meet me at my office this morning?”

Kara glanced at her watch. “I think so, but I’m supposed to be at work this morning and I’ll have to call and get someone to cover for me.”

“No, don’t go to the trouble. Can you get away for lunch?”

“I usually get lunch at eleven-thirty.”

“That works.” His voice carried a hint of mastery, as if he’d set out on a mission and had accomplished it. She realized taking charge of situations was probably something he did all the time. She knew most people didn’t get to the top of their professions by taking a back seat, letting others make decisions for them.

 She didn’t mind that he seemed comfortable taking control. In fact, she liked it. It was nice to not have to make the decisions and chart the course for everyone else for a change.

“I’ll take you to lunch and we can talk,” he said.

“Thank you—for everything, Mr. Westin.” She let her voice trail off conveying the smile she felt.

“You’re welcome Kara. I hope you feel the same after we’ve talked.” His voice carried a certain softness she hadn’t sensed in it before. “Now, where do you work?”

She gave him the name of the vet clinic and directions. He told her he was familiar with the area and that he’d be there by eleven thirty.

Kara spent the morning wondering what sort of solution Slade had come up with and hoping that it was a workable one. But then, she knew she’d do anything to keep her baby brother out of jail.

Kara was busy holding a cat for a blood draw when she heard the chime that announced that someone had entered the clinic. She recognized Slade’s deep rich voice as he asked for her at the reception desk. She heard the receptionist tell him she was with a patient, and that she’d be with him in a minute.

Her heart kicked up a notch. Her stomach felt queasy with pent up nerves.

The vet finished drawing blood and Kara returned the angry cat to its carrier before heading for the waiting room.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Things are always busy and unpredictable around here.” He stood near the bulletin board with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he belonged in the office.

“Interested in a kitty?” she asked noticing that he was looking at the free cat to good home flyer tacked to the bulletin board.

He shrugged broad shoulders. “I like cats, but I’m not exactly jumping over myself to get one,” He quirked a smile, “although I don’t doubt that I could be talked into it if the right person was doing the talking.”

Is he flirting with me? She wondered. She felt off balance by the prospect. She never flirted, didn’t even know how really. What had happened when she was seven had made her distrustful and uneasy around men and she avoided them as much as she could.

If she hadn’t needed Slade’s help with her brother’s situation she wouldn’t have agreed to see him. She was going to lunch with him only because they needed to talk about Ted and resolving his mess.

“We’ve got a couple nice cats in the back that are looking for homes,” she offered. She felt completely confused. She wasn’t sure if he had been flirting, and if he had been, she didn’t know what she should do about it.“  Maybe someday,” he allowed. Where would you like to go for lunch?”

“There’s a nice sandwich shop around the corner from here. They have good soups too. Otherwise it’s pretty much fast food alley.”

“The sandwich shop sounds fine. You direct and I’ll drive.”

Once they were seated in the comfortable gray leather seats of his Cadillac Escalade she gave him directions to the nearby sandwich shop.

“So, what’s your plan?” she asked as soon as he had maneuvered the Big SUV onto the road.

“Patience Kara,” he smiled. “I’ll tell you everything in good time.”

She shrugged and fell silent. He sensed the distance immediately. He’d hurt her feelings, made her uncomfortable, he realized. “So, what do you do at the vet clinic, besides try to give away cats?” he teased, trying to smooth over the hurt feelings.

“I’m a vet tech,” she answered softly as he turned into the parking lot and found a parking space near the front of the restaurant.

God she’s shy and skittish. She’ll never agree to this, he thought.

“Do you like being a vet tech?”

She smiled glancing down at her hands. “I love animals so it’s almost a perfect job for me.”

“Almost?”

“The times when we lose a patient or have to put one to sleep are hard. I hate that part of it.”

“What about the cats you have at the office. Will you have to put them to sleep if you don’t find homes for them?” he asked. No wonder she’s trying to give cats away, he thought, already contemplating taking the cats to keep them from having to be put to sleep, and more honestly, to spare Kara from that part of her job.

“No, we work with a couple no kill shelters in the area. If we can’t find homes for them we can place them with a shelter.”

“That sounds like a good solution.”

He turned off the ignition and took the keys. Their conversation was forgotten as they climbed out of the SUV.

Kara got out quickly, not waiting for him to come around and open her door. He waited for her at the front of his vehicle and held the restaurant door open for her.

They stood at the counter, reading the overhead menu. “What do you recommend?” he asked.

“The turkey melt on rye is my favorite, but the pastrami is also very good.”

Once they had given their order and found a seat in a quiet corner Slade slipped into the role of negotiator. It was a role he played often and one he was good at.

“I suppose you’re dying to know the particulars of the plan I’ve come up with.” He offered her what he hoped was a disarming smile.

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well, it’s unconventional but it meets my needs and,” he drew in a deep breath, “I think it meets yours too.”

Kara nodded, and a strand of dark hair fell over her shoulder. Her dark eyes were fixed on his. She looked fragile, practically swallowed by the navy blue surgical scrub pants and top she wore.

“I don’t like the idea of you borrowing against your credit cards and your 401k. It’s not sound financially. It would put you in debt and you told me last time we met that you’ve already had a hard time financially. It’s also not fair to you. Your brother should pay back the money he stole. But, even if I did agree to it, it would only take care of half the problem. You’d still have monthly payments on the balance. With payments on the 401k loan and the credit cards and payments to me I’m afraid it would only make it difficult for you. It’s not an acceptable solution.”

“Mr. Westin, things have been hard because of my mom’s medicines, they cost a lot. But I assure you that I will pay you. I’ll get another job if that’s what it takes. I’ll do what I need to in order to keep my brother out of jail.”

“Your brother should be the one who pays the money back. I know you think it’s a good thing to help him out, but rescuing him isn’t teaching him anything. It’s allowing him to continue his behavior. Even if I was willing to take payments from Ted, payments and interest on thirty thousand would be pushing it for him, especially now that he doesn’t have a job.”

The look on her face told him that her brother’s unemployed status was news to her. But he plunged on. “I’ve decided to forget about the money, but there are a couple conditions.”

“Oh Mr. Westin that’s wonderful, but it doesn’t seem fair to you.” She was looking at him, her deep brown eyes shadowed with regret.

“I’m happy with the solution,” he assured.

“Well—what are the conditions?” she asked hesitantly.

“First, that you stay out of my way and let me deal with your brother on my own terms. He won’t get around me as easily as he does you. Second, your brother goes to regular gambler’s anonymous meetings. And third, you marry me.”

Kara shook her head as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “What?”

He covered her small hand with his much larger one, ignoring her attempt to pull away. He rubbed the soft skin where her thumb joined her palm. “You heard me correctly. I want you to marry me, Kara. It’s the price for forgiving your brother’s theft and for not turning it over to the authorities.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, Kara. I’m serious. If you agree to marry me and your brother agrees to treatment for his gambling I’ll rehire him into a position where he can’t get his hands on any money.
He’ll be getting the help he needs, avoid jail, and have a job. You won’t be trying to pull everything together by yourself anymore. I’ll take care of you. I won’t be alone and that’ll make me happy.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

“I like you, Kara. You have an aura of sweetness and innocence that lights my fire.”

“Mr. Westin!” she hissed. The way she looked around to see if anyone else had overheard and the pink that tinged her cheeks made him smile.

“Call me Slade, Kara.”

 “Slade then.” He heard her deeply inhaled breath.  “I don’t understand what you’d get out of this. I’m fat, I’m not rich, and I’m afraid I don’t know what to do with a fire once it’s lighted. I-uhm, I’ve never—uhm.”

She blushed a deeper red and looked at the table as if she was thinking about crawling under it.

“You’re not fat. You’re beautifully proportioned, besides I like my women to have something to hold onto.” He let his eyes wander, taking in the smoothness of her skin, the squared shoulders, and the soft rise of her breasts, barely discernable beneath the scrub top she wore. I don’t care that you’re not wealthy. And I know you’ve never been with a man.” He caressed her hand again, “I knew when I looked up from the messages and saw you standing there in my office yesterday.”

“You did?” Her voice was tinged with horror. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not to everyone probably, but it was to me.” He let his eyes caress her, wishing he could pass some of the certainty he felt about the marriage on to her. “Don’t worry Kara, I’ll teach you everything you need to know about tamping my fires.”

“It’s—uhm—it’s not just not knowing—uhm—what to do.”

Given the way she was hemming and hawing and the bright red of her cheeks, he figured she was glad to be saved from further explanation by the arrival of their sandwiches. He waited for the waitress to leave before continuing.

He left his sandwich untouched and plunged on. “There are a few things you need to know about me before you make your decision.”

He watched the uncertainty that flitted across her face as he searched for the right words to describe what he wanted.

“I know it’s not politically correct, but what I want is an old fashioned marriage, one in which I take the lead.

“It’s important that you understand that if you agree to become my wife our marriage will be built on my control and your submission to my authority. That doesn’t mean I won’t discuss things or that I won’t take your opinions into account, but it does mean I’ll make the final decisions.

“I’ve dated spoiled, obstinate women in the past and there’s no room in my life for that. I won’t do daily battle with my wife about who is going to make which decisions, nor will I put up with sullenness and temper tantrums. I’m laying it out from the beginning. I wear the pants and I make the decisions.”

He watched her face; unable to tell what she was thinking from the closed expression she wore. He continued on, taking it as a positive sign that she hadn’t gotten up and walked out.

“One of the reasons I think it could be good between us is that you don’t seem willful or spoiled. You seem submissive and I like that. A lot. But even so, I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding later. If you were to marry me and behave like some of the women I’ve dated,” he sighed, “you probably wouldn’t like the outcome much.”

She shifted uneasily in her seat and avoided his gaze. “Exactly what do you mean, by that?” she asked, her attention focused on the straw wrapper she was twisting into a tight coil.

“I know it’s not politically correct but what I mean is that if the situation warranted it I would use physical discipline, like spanking or bondage, to keep you in line. I won’t put up with a spoiled wife.”

He watched her abuse of the straw wrapper intensify. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I’m not a crazy and I’m not into abuse. I would never physically injure you, but I am capable and would not hesitate to put limits on undesirable behavior.”

He searched her pale face, wondering if his honesty had scared her away. From her death grip on the straw wrapper and the tight line of her jaw as she fixed her gaze on the table, he figured he was pretty close. Much as he would have preferred to stick to white picket fences and rose gardens, his own sense of decency had required him to be upfront and honest with her about his expectations for their marriage.

“If you agree to become my wife I’d expect you to quit your job. I’d want you to be able to devote your time and energy to taking care of our home and me.”

“I couldn’t just quit my job, even if I wanted to. I pay part of my mother’s medical expenses, and if I didn’t she’d have to do without some of her medicines, and she can’t do that. I can’t quit my job even to save my brother, Mr. Westin.” She bowed her head and he sensed her defeat in the sudden droop of her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Kara,” he dropped his hands over hers. “I wouldn’t expect you to quit your job and leave your mom in the lurch or do without yourself. If you were my wife I’d take care of you and that would include taking care of your mother’s medical expenses. God knows I have enough money. You wouldn’t want for much. Neither would your mother.”

“It sounds like you’d be getting the bad end of the stick on this whole arrangement,” she said. He watched as she shifted in her seat and raised her gaze, pinning him, her expression watchful as she continued. “You’re suggesting all this because my brother stole money from you, but you’re not going to recover any of the money and in fact you’re going to spend even more money taking care of me and my mother. From a financial standpoint it doesn’t make any sense Mr. Westin.”

“Slade,” he corrected. “It makes perfect sense Kara. I have simple needs. I’ve already told you, I want an old fashioned marriage and an obedient and submissive wife. I want an enthusiastic partner in my bed and someone to explore sexually with me. Truthfully, I’m tired of being alone, and I’m willing to turn loose of some money to get the kind of wife and marriage I want. There isn’t anything shady or behind the scenes going on. I’ve told you what I want and relinquishing some money to get it makes perfect sense.”

Kara stared at him, unseeing, her blood cold, her sandwich forgotten in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak several times but closed it again without having uttered a single sound.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me or of marrying me. I know you are inexperienced and I’ll be patient with you. I’m not selfish Kara. I’ve been around the block and I know how to make a woman feel good in bed.”

“Slade,” the single word squeaked out after a false start. Her stomach churned and her brain raced through everything he’d just said. She felt as if her emotions had been stripped bare and left ragged. She knew that all the patience he could muster wouldn’t be enough.

“Yes Kara,” his voice was gentle, prompting.

The idea of agreeing to surrender herself to him was overwhelming. He’d said she didn’t need to be afraid of him that he’d be patient but he didn’t know she was damaged.

Misery swelled within her. She needed to come clean, to tell him the truth about her past. She needed him to understand that the unreasonable panic that overtook her, when a man stood too close or when an unexpected whiff of familiar aftershave caught her off guard was a part of her, and was something she could not escape or predict.

It was too much to expect anyone to understand the sudden panic that could wash over her or the mortification that followed, yet she knew he had a right to know. She swallowed hard and tried to gather enough saliva to wet her dry mouth. She still couldn’t force the words past the shame that lodged in her throat. She knew intellectually that she bore no blame for what had happened to her when she was a child but the knowledge did nothing to stop the intensity of the shame, or the pain that lived deep within her.

“Kara, are you okay?” he asked. His voice nudged her back to the present, to the reality of the situation in front of her, to the necessity of keeping Ted out of jail.

She nodded, not trusting her voice. She felt completely overwhelmed, empty.

She could promise to be obedient, to clean his house, to be there when he came home from work. She could even quit her job if he insisted, but there was absolutely no way she would ever be the enthusiastic uninhibited partner he wanted in bed. She was too damaged. There was nothing about sex that even mildly intrigued her. That part of her didn’t exist; it had been snuffed out before it had had a chance to develop.

If she agreed to marry him without telling him the truth she’d be deceiving him, purposely making a promise she knew she could never keep. It would be the height of dishonesty and she despised deceit.

He’d gone out of his way to help her and she hated herself for the deception she was going to commit. But more than she needed to be honest with Slade, she needed to keep Ted out of jail. Tears clogged her throat and threatened to spill. She felt bleak and hollow. She wanted to cry lonely, sad, shame filled tears, yet she knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t. She picked up her sandwich, more to distract herself from the intensity of her emotions than because she wanted to eat.

She took a bite and chewed methodically, not even tasting the turkey on rye. Swallowing helped push the hard ball of tears down and made her feel a little more in control of her ragged emotions.

Guilt kicked at Slade’s chest as he watched the tangle of emotions that chased across her pale face. She seemed lost in some deep, sad place and he ached to take back every word that had caused her pain.

After a few bites of her sandwich she seemed to draw on some inner reserve. She looked at him. Her gaze was solid and unwavering as it found and held his. “Mr. Westin—Slade, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my brother.”

Here it comes, she’s going to turn me down, he thought as her gaze skittered away.

“I know you could have turned everything over to the police and we could be looking at a trial and lawyers. If marrying you is what I have to do to keep my brother out of jail then I’ll do it.” She sucked in a deep breath.

“I would like your word that the details of our marriage and Ted’s part in it will not be disclosed to anyone. I also want your word that the—uhm—nature of our marriage will remain private.”

“You have my word Kara.”

“And you have mine that I’ll do my best to be the kind of wife you want. But I really don’t know how this can be what you want.”

Her words socked him hard. This quiet resolved reaction wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was her to be happy about marrying him. He didn’t like making her unhappy, but then again he hadn’t expected her to be excited about marrying him. He’d known from the beginning that making her happy would come later, after they were married. Once Kara trusted him, knew him, he’d teach her the joy to be found in surrendering herself to him.

“You’re right. It’s not what I really want. But it’s a start, and I’ll settle for it.”

Chapter 3

Panic rose clawing through her as the first notes of “Here Comes the Bride” filtered through the church.

“Are you ready?” Ted asked.

She swallowed hard and nodded her head, not trusting her voice. She wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot.

Her stomach churned and dizziness circled her like a hungry lion as she let Ted lead her toward the back of the sanctuary. She felt the frantic beating of her heart in her head and in her ears. Each beat brought a woosh of sound that echoed drowning out the other sounds around her.

Ted urged her forward. She tried to keep her mind focused on just the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other as blackness swiped at the outside edges of her vision. She tried to close her mind to everything except the immediacy of what she needed to do to guarantee Ted’s freedom.

She swallowed hard attempting to generate some saliva to wet her mouth but came up dry.  Panic clawed in her chest. Unshed tears and heated breath mingled and caught in the back of her throat. She was hyperventilating she knew, but felt helpless to stop even as the darkness encroached.

She hadn’t known exactly what dominance and submission was when Slade had mentioned it and she had accepted his proposal. She knew now, and the shadow his demands cast over her future obliterated everything safe and familiar. She blinked back tears of fear and loneliness. Dread coursed through her bringing images of force and pain that twisted and turned in her mind superimposing themselves onto her future.

Run! Run! Run! Her mind screamed as she stopped beside Slade. Each thump of her heart echoed in her ears and shrunk her area of vision. Darkness crept inward from the edges and hovered threatening to enclose her in a murky cocoon of darkness.

Slade’s clean male scent engulfed her as he took her small trembling hand in his large steady one. His touch was gentle as his thumb caressed the soft skin where her thumb joined her palm. For a reason Kara didn’t understand the familiar touch provided a small measure of calm. She used the calm to help her focus on taking the deep slow breaths that she hoped would keep the hovering blackness away.

She breathed deep and slow purposely slowing down everything in her mind. As if in slow motion she noticed the long white wedding dress she wore felt sticky where it touched her sweaty legs. She sucked in the scent of roses that filled the air. She heard the rustle in the pews behind her as people shifted in their seats. She felt the gentleness in Slade’s touch as he continued to caress her hand.

She heard the preacher’s voice and Slade’s calm, assured responses as if they came from a great distance. She noticed but didn’t focus on the nausea that rose in the back of her throat.

Somehow she managed to murmur, “I do” at the right times, yet when the ceremony ended Kara scarcely knew what she had promised. She felt sick and shaky and alone.
Breathe.

Slowly.

Deeply.

In.

Out.

Relax.

She coached herself through the familiar breathing ritual again and again as she fought the tide of painful memories and the frightening images from the internet that painted themselves on the future.

The words, “You may kiss the bride,” penetrated the heavy cloak of wooziness and spiraling memories. Her mind screamed at her to run; yet she was absolutely numb as if her being was held in distant limbo, unable to move of its own accord.

She was only marginally aware as Slade tilted her chin and kissed her. The kiss was soft. Gentle, she observed from some distant other worldly place. He smelled of some spicy brand of soap she couldn’t place and tasted of mint.

She was vaguely aware of turning, of Slade’s hand settling at the small of her back as they turned to walk back up the aisle. Mostly though, she focused on containing the roiling waves of nausea that expanded within her threatening to break through her iron control at any second.

“Are you okay?” Slade asked in a whisper as they reached the rear of the sanctuary.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she muttered miserably as she swallowed back another tide of nausea. “I need a restroom.”

Kara was barely aware of being hustled along the tiled hallway. “Will you be okay in there by yourself ? You’re not going to pass out on me are you?” Slade asked as he pushed open a door marked women.

Yes. No. She didn’t know. Kara nodded. She’d be okay. She didn’t know about passing out, but she knew the last thing she needed was for Slade to hover over her as she heaved.

In the end, she didn’t throw up. She stood with her head pressed against the coolness of the wall as roils of nausea rose and fell in giant waves. She gagged, swallowing back the hollowness as she tried to rein in the nausea. She took deep breaths, counting slowly to four as she gulped in air and counting to four again as she released it. The familiar exercise helped her focus and push through the nausea.

“Kara, are you okay?” Slade asked through the door.

“Yes,” she answered. “I just need a minute more.”
“Take your time,” he answered.

His voice was gentle. Patient. Kind, she marveled.

She dampened a paper towel with cool water and sponged off her face. She was feeling better, though not a lot. She hadn’t slept much since she had agreed to marry Slade. The nightmares that had troubled her when she was younger had returned, sharper, more sinister, the danger seeming more real than it had before. She hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. She felt woozy and her head was pounding but at least the nausea had receded.

At last she opened the door and feeling shy and weak rejoined Slade.

“Better?” he asked as she left the restroom. He eyed her carefully, taking in her pale complexion and the dark circles just visible under what remained of her makeup. He wished not for the first time that day, that he had taken things more slowly and that he had made time for them to become better acquainted before the wedding.

She nodded. “I’m better but I’d kill for some Tylenol.”

“Headache?”

She nodded again. “Thank you for helping me find the restroom.”

“Not a problem Kara.” He took her hand. She looked at the floor, her eyes vacant as if she had slipped into some distant place he couldn’t see. “Kara, look at me please,” he used his Master voice, purposely lacing the commanding tone with the concern he felt.

She raised her gaze gradually, her eyes slowly climbing his chest until her gaze locked with his. She was afraid of him, he could sense it in the slow testing way she met his gaze, yet she was doing what he’d asked.

“Try to relax. I’m sure you’re scared shitless marrying someone you don’t know very well but your life with me will be good. I promise.”

She dropped her gaze from his. He felt sure she didn’t believe him, although he didn’t understand why she found it so difficult to trust him.

The idea of marrying her in exchange for not filing charges against her brother had sprung into his mind and he’d acted on it. He’d seen something he wanted intensely when he’d met Kara and he’d pushed her, not taking time to consider what she might want or need. As uncharacteristically selfish as the move had been he had been up front and straight with her about what he wanted in a wife and she had agreed to the marriage.

His Perfect Submissive is a four fan read. It includes explicit descriptions of sexual activity between hero and heroine. It includes, bondage, spanking, and anal sex.