The Edge of Jasmine: A Hotel Bentmoore World Novel (BDSM Romance)

THE NEXT MORNING, SAMANTHA WOKE up to an empty bed. She stretched and sat up; at some point in the middle of the night, she’d had to use the bathroom, and Brian had removed the ropes. But he’d snuggled her close to him again as soon as she had returned to bed, and they had both fallen back asleep.

Now Samantha looked at the nearby clock, and saw it was almost ten in the morning. She had slept well.

She put on her panties and shirt and padded upstairs. Brian was standing at the stove in his boxers, making pancakes. It was such a domestic scene, Samantha had to smile.

“Morning, beautiful,” Brian said, smiling back. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Samantha said, sitting down at the table. “Still a little tired.”

“You need coffee.” He put the last pancake on top of the pile already stacked on a nearby plate, put the plate in the center of the table, and went to make her a cup of coffee. He brought over the coffee, two empty plates, and some silverware. Then he sat down, dished out a small stack of pancakes on Samantha’s plate, and gave himself a couple, too.

Samantha picked up her fork and knife. “It looks delicious,” she said.

“Eat,” Brian replied. “That’s an order.” He grinned.

Samantha began to eat her pancakes, letting out sounds of pleasure with each bite. Brian looked pleased. “Your sister called,” he said. “I took the liberty of answering your phone. I told her you’re okay, but sleeping. I didn’t want her to worry about you.”

“Thank you.” Samantha put her utensils down and sipped her coffee. “I should call her.”

“You don’t have to do it right now. Finish your coffee first.” Samantha decided to take that as an order, too, and took her time finishing her coffee. She was amazed how relaxed she felt. She looked at Brian, and her feelings for him surged her heart.

“Brian, we need to talk,” she said. “I need to explain to you about that night at the club.”

“We do need to talk about that, but we don’t have to do it right now. You had a rough night last night.”

“I know. But I want to.” She moved to the couch, and Brian followed. He sat across from her so he could look into her eyes as she spoke.

Samantha said, “It’s about what happened to me back in Phoenix,” and Brian thought, Now. Now we’re finally going to get into it.

Samantha’s eyes lowered to the mug in her lap and stayed there. “After I left the Hotel Bentmoore–it feels like so long ago, doesn’t it?–I contacted that Master Sadist you told me about. When I gave him your name, he agreed to meet with me. We played a couple times. It was really amazing. He taught me a lot.” Brian wanted to grimace at the thought of another man touching his Samantha, but controlled his expression as Samantha continued. “He encouraged me to get into the local BDSM scene, get to know more people in the community, so I did. I started going to munches, to clubs…I met a lot of people. I thought I was making friends.” She paused, and Brian waited.

“I met a guy,” Samantha continued. “He was polite, poised, patient…he listened when I told him about my history with Paul, and he got it. At least, he seemed to get it. He respected my boundaries and honored my limits. When we played, it was good.” She grabbed a napkin next to her coffee cup and began to fiddle with it in her lap.

“The problem was–and I didn’t see it at the time, but later I realized–all we ever did was play and fuck. We never went out in public; he never took me out to dinner or on a date. We only ever saw each other at the occasional munch, or when we played at my house.” She snorted. “We never even played at his house. It was always my house. That should have been a clue for me right there. Of course, he gave me all these lame excuses why he couldn’t bring me to his house, and I bought them.”

She bowed her head. “But as far as I was concerned, we were an exclusive couple. It didn’t occur to me he might be sleeping with other women at the same time as he was seeing me. God, I was so naive.”

“I take it then he was sleeping with other women?”

“No,” Samantha sighed. “No, it wasn’t that; it was worse. The guy was married. He had kids, a dog, a house, the whole shebang.” She could feel the lump growing in her throat and swallowed it down. “What really shocked me was that his wife knew all along he was sleeping with me. I met her at a munch we went to one night, and she told me. She was even nice to me. She told me she and her husband usually went to different munches, so they could both meet other people. She was sleeping with other men, too. But she thought I knew about her.” Samantha let out a derisive snort. “When I confronted her husband, he said he and his wife were ‘polyamorous.’ And when I had to admit to him I had no idea what the fuck that meant, he laughed at me. He laughed in my face.” She flushed with shame.

After a moment, Samantha said, “The thing was, everyone else knew he was married. All the people I knew at the munch, all of my so-called friends, knew he had a wife. Hell, some of them had been friends with his wife for years.”

Samantha got up and went through the process of making herself another cup of coffee, never looking at Brian. “It turned out, some of them knew he was leading me on,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Apparently, he’d done this to another girl before. But they still didn’t tell me. And later, when I asked them why, why didn’t they say something about his wife, they all said it was none of their business, and they wanted to stay out of it. They didn’t want to be part of the ‘drama,’ they said.”

She came back with her cup, put it on the coffee table, and took her seat across from him. “Then my mom got sick and asked me to move here, so I did. I sold everything, my house, my shop, everything, and never looked back.” She took a swallow of her coffee, and choked.

Brian patted the couch next to him, looking serious. “Samantha, come here,” he said. Samantha gave up on the coffee and moved over.

“Do you remember when we had that talk at the Hotel Bentmoore about the difference between sadism and abuse? And I tried to teach you some basics about BDSM?”

Samantha nodded.

“Let me impart with you some more of my vast and experienced knowledge,” Brian said. “Polyamory, real polyamory, is not even close to what you just described. Polyamory only works when everyone involved knows about it. If relationships are being kept secret, that’s not polyamory. That’s called old-fashioned cheating.”

“His wife knew; she didn’t care. He wasn’t cheating on her.”

“Maybe not, but he was cheating on you.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “How could he be cheating on me with his wife?”

“You were cheated out of the relationship you thought the two of you had, weren’t you?” Samantha’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He was being an ass,” Brian said, “and a jerk. Now, as for all the friends who knew he was married and didn’t tell you: I can’t even begin to understand that. They were wrong not to tell you. Maybe they didn’t know how seriously you took the relationship, or maybe they thought they were doing you a favor by letting you enjoy it as long you could. I don’t know. I do know I understand now why you were so reluctant to get into the scene here.”

“I was afraid,” she whispered.

“You had every right to be,” Brian agreed. “But you can’t let yourself shut down and run away after every bad experience, Samantha. This was one harsh lesson, but life is full of them.”

Samantha sat up straight, indignant. “I didn’t run away,” she said. “I came here to take care of my mom.”

“And you’ve been here for months, and haven’t gone to a single local event. And I’m not just talking about the kink community–you’ve worked hard to meet no one.”

“I would have started going out to meet people eventually.”

“No you wouldn’t have.”

“Yes I would!”

“You’ve just earned yourself a punishment for lying.”

Samantha’s mouth snapped shut, and she made a petulant face at him. Brian grinned at her expression. “Now let’s talk about what happened the other night at the club,” he said. “Why did you shut down and run away?”

“I did not–” She stopped when Brian shook his finger in front of her face. She sighed. “After I came back from the bathroom and saw you whipping Dana, I was surprised, and–and hurt. I thought we had gone to the club together, as a couple, and you would only be playing with me. But after what Dana told me….”

“Samantha, what did Dana tell you?”

Samantha squirmed. “Dana told me that I wasn’t enough for you.”

“She said what?”

“She said that I wasn’t enough for you. That just because I’m your sub, it wouldn’t mean you wouldn’t play with other women. Basically, she said I’d have to get used to sharing you. I thought she was full of shit, but after coming back and seeing her cuffed to the cross, and you whipping her, I….” She couldn’t finish.

“I owe you an apology,” Brian said. “We should have discussed in much better detail what would happen at the dungeon, how we would behave, and how we would play. As your Dom, I should’ve discussed that stuff with you long before we got there.” He intertwined his fingers with Samantha’s. “Now, about Dana. Dana and I have a pretty sordid relationship. I’ve known her for a long time…but we’ve never dated, we’ve never even been out together. She’s a strong masochist–”

“Like me?”

“No. Not like you. No one is like you.” He caressed her cheek, and Samantha smiled as her heart swelled. “But she can take a lot of what I like to dish out,” Brian continued, “and she was available. Maybe that doesn’t make me sound like a very nice person, but it’s true. But she’s with Jake now, and I wish him good luck with her.” He sighed and shook his head. “Samantha, I hate that Dana upset you, but you should’ve come and talked to me about it.”

“I wanted to, but we were in the dungeon, and I didn’t know what I was allowed to say, and–”

Brian shook his head again. “You can always come talk to me about something that’s upsetting you. You should, especially when it’s something that has to do with our relationship. This time, I’m going to take the blame, because I didn’t go over behavioral protocols with you before we left for the club. So I won’t punish you.” His tone grew grim. “But you will answer for safewording to get yourself out of talking to me. What you did was completely inappropriate.”

“I know. I apologize.” She looked down, sheepish.

“I’m giving you fair warning right now, Samantha: that’s the last time I let you get away with something like that. Your safeword is to keep you safe, not to be used as a way to avoid situations you find uncomfortable, or even painful. You should hold it sacred. You ever abuse it like that again, and I swear to God, Samantha, I will get biblical on your ass.” He looked so firm, Samantha cowered into the couch.

Brian cleared his throat. “About what Dana said,” he said, taking it down an octave. “It’s not true. You are absolutely enough woman for me. I have no desire to fuck any other woman. Part of that is because you and I share the same traditional way of thinking: I think of us as exclusive. I don’t want you to have any other Dom, and I have no plans to find another sub. When I asked you to be my sub, Samantha, I meant for our relationship to include just the two of us.” He met Samantha’s hopeful look.

“But play is different,” he said. “I can play with a woman without having any deep feelings for her. I can top her for a scene, even dominate her for a while. But once the scene is over, we both move on, and there’s nothing between us beyond fond memories. Hell, there were plenty of women I hosted at the Hotel Bentmoore I would never even like in real life. I still played with them.”

“But that was your job.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “And once I left my job, I realized I would be able to choose. I could pick who I played with; I didn’t have to play with any woman who wanted me as her top. But before I found you, I was judging women based on their masochism, their tolerance for pain, not by what kind of people they were or how pleasant I thought it would be to take them out to dinner afterwards. I was picking women to play with who could endure my sadism.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t make you sound like a very nice person.”

“No, I guess not. But it was who I was. Now, I have you, and I want more than just play, I want a relationship. That’s why I asked you to be my sub. What we have is beyond play. It’s beyond sub and Dom; I see you as my partner.” His eyes held Samantha’s for a powerful moment; then he looked down. “But I see playing differently than the way you do. As far as I’m concerned, there doesn’t have to be anything intimate about it. What I was doing to Dana meant nothing to me.” He gave her a wry smile. “What’s crazy about this whole thing is that I had no desire to top Dana at all that night. Jake asked me to show him my whipping technique, and Dana was the logical choice for a bottom. I was doing Jake a favor, not trying to please Dana. I certainly wasn’t enjoying it.”

“You weren’t?”

“No. I kept wishing you’d get back from the bathroom so I could whip you instead.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I think you’ve ruined me, Samantha. No other woman can satisfy me like you do.” He looked like he was about to say something, but stopped when he saw Samantha’s skepticism. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know, Brian,” she said. “You’re used to having so many women, it’s hard for me to believe you’ll be satisfied with just me. And I don’t want to keep you from playing with other women if you want to, but at the same time, I….” Her sentence trailed off as she floundered for the right words.

“You don’t want me playing with other women, but not because you’re asking me not to: you want me to stop playing with them because I don’t want to anymore.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I don’t want to always wonder if I’m keeping you from doing something you want to do, something you love.”

“But you don’t have to wonder, Samantha. I don’t want to play with anyone else, not if it makes you unhappy.”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it,” she said.

“It isn’t, and it is,” he said. “Couples keep themselves from doing things they know makes the other person unhappy. It’s called compromise.” He stopped himself from calling it love; he wasn’t sure how Samantha would react if he professed his love for her now. “But if you don’t want to call it compromise, then call it courtesy. If my playing with other women makes you unhappy, why would I do it?”

“Brian, it’s easy for you to say this now. But eventually, you might end up resenting me.”

“And you might end up deciding you don’t mind me topping others.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s going to happen, especially not with Dana.”

“Sweetheart, I can promise you I will never play with Dana ever again, because I would never play with a woman who disrespected you. But if you’re still uncomfortable, then how about this: I promise not to top anyone else unless, and until, you say it’s okay. And if I start to resent our agreement, I promise to tell you as soon as I do. Is that good enough for you?”

“I don’t know….”

“Do you trust me?”

She met his eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

“Then trust me to tell you if I ever feel the need to revisit this subject again, because right now, I have no desire to play with anyone else, and certainly no wish to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But you–you have to promise to tell me if there’s something going on between us you’re concerned about, or doesn’t feel right. You can’t just run away. And no more abusing the safeword. Is this a deal?”

“Yes,” Samantha nodded. “Deal.”

“Good,” Brian said, smiling. “Now I believe I owe you a punishment for your lying before.” Without further ado, he pulled Samantha across his lap and pulled down her panties. Samantha gasped with the first hard, resounding smack.

“Brian!” She yelled.

“I haven’t given you an over-the-knee spanking in far too long,” he said, smacking her again with the flat of his palm. “I think you need a reminder how fun they can be.”

“Fun?” Samantha shrieked after another bracing smack.

“Well, I’m certainly having fun,” Brian replied. He spanked her until her bottom was red and glowing, then pushed her over the armrest of the couch and fucked her from behind. It was a long while later before they finally got off the couch, but when they did, he got her to admit, albeit grudgingly, that she thought over-the-knee spankings could be fun, too.