Rekindled Ch. 05

Something felt different when I woke up the next morning.

On the outside, nothing had changed. Etienne was still curled next to me, His strong arms pulling me close against His chest and His soft sleeping breath ruffling my hair. My leg was still fragile, my body and soul were still healing.

But still, something was different.

I shifted gently against the bed, letting out a little groan as I realized that, regardless of how tender Etienne had been with me the previous night, my body was unused to being used in such an intimate way. My pussy felt swollen, almost bruised. Etienne had been gentle, and His touch had been so strong...I blushed as the more detailed memories of last night flooded back into my head.

Carefully, I turned over to get a better look at this Man as He slept beside me. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and ran my fingers gently over His cheek. His dark red beard was so familiar against my skin; the curve of His mouth that so often met mine did something odd to my heart as I caressed it next.

What had happened to me that I could have forgotten how much He loved me? It was more to Him than what He could get from me; His attraction and desperate need for me did not come from some dark place within where Dominance was an excuse to steal every ounce of humanity from my spirit and leave me crushed and battered in a corner. It never had been, not with Him.

Dominance from Him was about what He could give to me; submission was my gift to Him, in return. It was mutual respect, mutual adoration.

My entire body was tingling, my mind was in a passionate whirl. Before I could stop myself, I leaned forward and gave Him the gentlest of kisses. My lips barely brushed against His, my fingers resting against His neck as I caressed His skin and allowed myself to melt against Him.

I felt Him wake up, felt Him react to my touch. His body pressed into mine as He gathered me into His arms.

This was what felt different. This is what was different.

Had one night changed so much? Had something as simple as two bodies joining at the hip done so much in one night?

No. Because it wasn't simple.

It was more than just the friction of two connected bodies. It was the start of my submission, all over again. It was trust – me learning to let go of the past and embrace His future, and Him learning how to teach a frightened little girl heart inside a twenty-somethings body how to beat again.

That kiss was the seal. The collar, the pleasure, the connection, the kiss. It was all connected into something bigger.

Things were changing, and they were changing fast.

He broke our kiss and caressed my face, gentle fingers brushing my hair out of my eyes and gazing into them.

"I love you, Isabeau. My Isabeau."

His face broke into a smile as He formed the last words again.

"My Isabeau."

I curled my fingers into His hair, reveling in the softness of His dark red locks around my hands.

"I love You, Etienne. My Master...my Etienne."

///

Very little was said in the early hours of that morning, though much was communicated. After bathing, dressing, and breakfast, I set about doing the dishes in a moment of quiet contemplation.

After my previous fright, Etienne had offered to take over all kitchen duties for me so that there was no risk of another flashback. But I knew I had to work through this, even in some small way. And so I continued washing and carefully stacking the dishes, waiting for Him to enter the room and pick up the dishtowel as He always did.

But soon all the dishes were washed and He had not appeared. I picked up the towel myself and slowly began to dry them, and still He did not appear. I was too short and too unsteady on my feet to put the plates and cups away in their high cabinet, so I simply kept them stacked on the countertop.

It was not until they were entirely arranged in neat piles that I heard His voice down the hall, calling my name.

"You finished with the dishes, Iz?"

I nodded before I realized that He couldn't see me. Feeling slightly foolish, I called out, "yes, I just finished the last one, Love."

I blushed instinctively as the word slipped out of my lips and into the room. Calling Him "Love" had once been second-nature to us both; I had not done it since I had returned to Him, and it had not crossed my mind until that moment. Perhaps things were changing even more rapidly than I thought.

He stepped into the room, leaning against the doorframe a bit.

"Turn around. Put your hands on the sink and look straight ahead, little one."

His voice was low, confident, and so powerfully gentle. I felt a cool prickle of something shivering down my spine. Could fire be cold? Because this was something powerful I felt, not fear or alarm. No, this was something else – something wonderful.

Slowly, I obeyed. My hands gripped the cool steel of the sink, and I shivered as I fought the urge to close my eyes. And I waited.

It was barely a moment before I felt His gentle hand on the small of my back. I knew He was there already, and so the touch did not alarm me; rather, it excited me. I felt His hands trailing over my body, up over my stomach before settling on my breasts, one hand on each side. His powerful fingers began to lightly tug at my nipples; the material of my shirt was thin, and His fingers were manipulating me in such a way that I felt them harden into small pebbles in barely an instant.

"I saw the way My girl reacted to Me last night when I spanked her. The way her body arched the sounds she made when My hand connected with that perfect, beautiful ass."

His voice was the most beautiful growl against my ear, His fingers never ceasing their ministrations. I felt His hot breath on the back of my neck; He stopped His caresses of my breasts just long enough to sweep my hair to the side, pressing His lips over and over to my soft right at the top of my spine.

"I'd forgotten...I didn't think you'd still have that fire within you, Iz."

His hands were on my nipples still, tightening their grip until a slow aching pain had started burning in my breasts and coursing down through my belly, lodging itself in my carefully hidden clit and making it throb. I ached my neck back against His shoulder with a barely suppressed moan.

I felt His smile. I could not see it with my back to Him and His face in my neck, but I felt it caressing my soul and melting me like candlewax.

My skirt was suddenly lifted and swept aside; when had His hands left my breasts? He placed a hand on my stomach and guided me so my hips were arched out, my bare bottom pressed out toward Him in the style of an old-fashioned pin-up girl, minus any traces of modesty. Slowly, His strong hand traced a smooth path over the skin of my ass.

I felt myself starting to pant in desire, soft breaths escaping my lips which had parted at some point and were now allowing every gasp of desire to be heard by His attentive ears. It was in that moment that I realized that there was no small amount of slick moisture starting to gather between my thighs. Maybe there were things that even my captor could not have erased from my soul.

Then I was in His arms as He carried me from the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs and into our room. His stride was steady, but rapid; I felt myself smiling as I realized that He was as eager as I was, if not more so.

The door to our room closed, sending fresh waves of erotic intimacy coursing through my veins. This was the start, I knew, and I was ready.

More than ready.

Etienne's eyes were glowing as they gazed into mine. His voice was a low whisper, almost as though His need was sapping away His ability to speak.

"Strip, Mine."

I did not know my hands could move so fast. The blouse was over my head in a moment, and my skirt was slipping over my hips as though I had four hands to help me undress myself. In that moment, I wanted to be naked for Him. I was afraid, but I wanted Him to see me this way. Vulnerable and fully, completely His.

When I raised my eyes to His, I realized that His shirt was gone, as were His pants. I caught my breath at the sight of His strong, muscular chest, traced with thin scars from various incidents, some of which were unfamiliar to me. His hair was also loose, not pulled back into a ponytail the way He normally chose to keep it contained, falling thick and red over His shoulders.

He looked angelic – not in the innocent and white-winged way, but strong and powerful, like some Seraphim from Heaven come down to protect and to save the innocent.

My Angel, my Wolf, my White Knight, my Master.

The Man I loved.

Oh, He was so much to me.

With a slow smile, Etienne held a hand to me.

"Come to Me, Mine."

For a moment, I wondered if He had forgotten my leg, but then He closed the minor gap between us with His hand still outstretched.

"Come to Me, Mine."

The words repeated echoed in my heart. Physically, He was closing the gap, but emotionally, I was crossing the bridge.

He tenderly helped me to the bed as He sat down on the edge, His feet flat on the floor.

"Over my knee, little one."

Carefully, I bent my body over His bare legs. My stomach was pressed against Him, and I felt the thick throbbing of His cock pulsing slightly against my skin, sending another wave of liquid pleasure down to my already drenched slit.

The first smack of His hand was a light blow to my right cheek, sending ripples of pleasure from my ass up my spine like the effect of a stone being dropped in a pond. By no means was it half-hearted or timid, but a preface to what I knew was coming. I yelped slightly in a odd blend of surprise, stinging pain, and an outlet for pleasure.

"Does My girl want more?" It was a request laden with desire; He knew the answer before the words even left my mouth.

"Yes, Master."

His hand connected with my skin again, left cheek this time, still gentle but firmer than before. I yelped again, this one fading into a soft whimper of pleasure.

"Again?"

"Yes, Master..." Was He doing this on purpose, building my arousal until I wanted to scream?

Of course He was.

The blow came again, once more on the right side, this one much firmer than the first two, the sound loud enough to fill the entire room.

SMACK! My hips lifted, not with pain but with a flood of dripping arousal. The burn was starting already, low and sweet against my skin. This was a definite moan now; I was lost in the feeling of His hand on me.

"Again...please, Master..."

He did not even have to ask now. The desire was flowing from my lips and from my pussy in waves. The heat built in intensity, the blows starting to rain down firmly on my pale skin. I could feel my skin getting redder, hotter. He went back and forth, from right to left, occasionally smacking down on both of them together. His hand was consistent, only on my ass, never on my back and never on my legs. He was being careful, but also allowing Himself to ease into a rhythm.

My eyes were closed, lips parted, wailing in a combination of overwhelming pleasure and erotic pain that had long been forgotten. I had forgotten how this felt, how it felt to free the pain slut that I had locked away for months and months. My skin sang of His love, a melody that screamed my place of belonging and His adoration for me to the very Heavens themselves. The flawless intimacy of this moment was not lost on me, nor on Him. It was fusion for us both.

There were tears on my lashes – not of pain, but of release. There was something so powerful in this spanking. It was more than just a hand connecting with skin; I had experienced plenty of beatings in the months that proceeded this, beatings that left me raw and broken and bleeding and feeling entirely worthless and unwanted.

This was different. This was a caress, a dance. This was a surrender, a beautiful pulsing freedom that released me as much as my captor's blows had bound me.

After a time, He stopped spanking my ass, and slowly started to rub my burning skin, lovely rubbing His hand over the stinging flesh exuding fresh heat. His other hand tangled into my hair for a moment, gently pulling my head up to look into His eyes.

It was not until our eyes were fully locked together that He plunged two fingers of His free hand into my sopping pussy. I cried out as waves of pleasure crashed into me so hard that I almost came on the spot. His eyes were soft, deep, eager into mine.

"I love you, little one. I love you, Isabeau."

He repeated the words with every thrust of His fingers. The sloppy wet sounds that filled the room betrayed my arousal; I felt myself soaking His entire hand, and I was sure I was dripping down His wrist as well. His eyes were burning with arousal, every drop of my juices fueling the fire that was smoldering at our mutual cores.

"Does My beautiful slut need to cum?"

I gasped, almost shuddered at His words. They thudded through my body to match the cadence of my heartbeat.

His slut. His beautiful slut. His.

He did not wait for a reply. He thrust His fingers in deeply and curled them slightly, striking right against my g-spot as He growled.

"Cum, My beautiful girl. Cum for Me, now."

The waves of orgasm crashed over me in the most beautiful crush, cresting and falling again and again. I screamed as I gushed a fountain of juices around His fingers; somewhere, distantly, I heard His groan of approval as I clenched tight around the probing digits buried in my pussy.

It was some time before I came down from that, gasping and panting, feeling the barest drops of sweat trickling down my spine.

Slowly He pulled His fingers from me, and placed them against my lips.

"Suck."

My lips opened instinctively at the simple command and took His fingers against my tongue, cleaning them of every drop of my juices. He moaned softly as my lips closed around His fingers and sucked them tenderly, looking up into His eyes.

I had forgotten that I could feel this way. I had forgotten that being Owned could be this freeing, that belonging to a Man could be a surrender that I actually wanted.

His fingers left my mouth then, and I licked my lips to dampen them. He slipped His fingers into His own mouth, licking them Himself for a moment, as if to taste anything I might have left behind. Then, He gathered me into His arms, carefully tucking me against His chest. He moved His back against the headboard so that we were both comfortably reclining against the neatly-made bed and the excessive amount of pillows that we both liked.

We were silent for a while, both soaking in the intimacy found in this moment. His fingers trailed through my hair, soothing me.

"You understand the different, right, Iz?"

His voice startled me slightly.

"What do You mean, understand the difference? You mean, between You and him?"

He nodded. "Yes. You understand what I want from you, and how it's different than what he could have ever envisioned."

I shifted then so that I could look into His eyes. He continued speaking, His voice low and tender.

"I honestly can't understand what it was that he wanted from you, Iz. I left him bloody and broken the way he left you, and even still, I feel like I didn't do enough. Your agony was the sick fuck's pleasure; breaking you was a game to him. And you're so beautiful...so perfect...." His voice trailed off then as He touched my face.

I shook my head.

"He said I made mistakes, that I was a bad girl that deserved to be punished..." I left out the rest of the words that he tended to use. The use of "bad girl" was mild in comparison to the litany of abusive chants that left his mouth more often than not.

Etienne sighed then, a deep sound that almost sounded mournful.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, Iz. And maybe, in part, I did do the so-called right thing. For love of country, and all that, those are good things. But the in-between, everything that happened between deployment and..." His voice trailed off, and I didn't push Him for more.

Every time Etienne had mentioned His military involvement since I had been in His arms again, His eyes got this distant look that almost frightened me. I knew that He had seen things, done things that He could never erase, things that He would just as much forget. And I would never push Him, just as He never pushed me.

I pressed my head into His shoulder and let out a breath.

I had a thousand questions for Him, a thousand thoughts whirling through my head. But they could wait, for just a little longer.

I just wanted to soak Him in. The heat in my ass was still there, burning and reminding me of where I was and where I had been. I was safe, I was surrendered. I was letting out, relighting the phoenix that had crashed to ashes in my soul.

I was being reborn, little by little.