Cardinal's Rule

Chapter Seven

The slave didn’t know where Master had spent the night. It wasn’t his business, although he was curious.

He hoped whatever Master had planned that it didn’t involve Tilly.

He also hoped that Master didn’t drag her into their lives any more than he already had. He loved her, would always love and miss her, but how cruel to interrupt her life when she’d obviously moved on?

Bob. Was he her boyfriend and not just a client? The guy sure had acted pissed enough to be a boyfriend.

Slave beat back his jealousy again. He’d released her. He’d chosen his path.

He had no right to feel jealous over who might be sharing her bed. Surely she’d found someone else by now.

Hadn’t she?

Part of him prayed she had, that she hadn’t spent those years alone while he warmed Landry’s bed, relatively happy except for the hole in his heart where he would always miss and love her. And he would feel even guiltier if she hadn’t.

Part of him hoped she didn’t have anyone, that she still in some small way belonged to him.

Because the thought of another man touching her ripped his heart out even though he knew he had no right to feel like that.

At seven-thirty that morning, the room phone rang. He answered it before the first ring ended.

“Master?”

“That’s my good boy. Get a shower, get dressed, go eat breakfast. Walk around a little if you’d like. Be back at the room by ten. You may stay dressed until I say otherwise.”

“Yes, Master.”

Master hung up, leaving slave listening to a dial tone.

He smiled. Master had called him his good boy.

That was the most affection he’d had from him in a month.

Landry laid his cell on the bedside table. Tilly still slept beside him. They’d need a bigger bed, that’s for sure. He liked room to move around.

Would he be able to convince her to stay after their agreement ended? He’d caught glimpses of her slave nature throughout the day yesterday. No, he wouldn’t exploit her like that. He promised not to top her and he’d meant it.

How would Cris react? Would he maintain his slave status, or would having Tilly around bring out his dominant nature and end his service? Could Cris live with his dual nature with both of them?

Would he try to win her back?

Would he stay?

He rolled onto his side so he could look at her. Her request had shocked the hell out of him. He suspected it was more an angry reaction on her part than a genuine desire for revenge. It wouldn’t surprise him if at the last minute she couldn’t go through with it. Truth be told, he looked forward to it.

He felt his cock stiffen in his shorts, morning woody time.

Normally he and Cris would make love, if they had time. Since the revelation he’d ordered slave over to his bed to service him when he felt like it.

He missed the affection more than he’d ever admit. He’d slept better last night than he had in the past month. Having Tilly in his arms definitely didn’t feel like a chore or a sacrifice.

When she opened her eyes he was glad he’d pulled the sheet up to his waist. His cock thickened, throbbing as her hazel eyes met his. Her gaze flicked down to his waist and back up to his face.

“Would you like a little help with that?”

He laughed. “Then you’d know my secrets before our wedding night.”

“I don’t mind.”

He leaned in and kissed her gently, which only made his cock throb harder. “I know you don’t, and I appreciate it. I’ll survive. I think I’d rather draw out the sweet agony a little longer.”

“See? You like me being a Domme. You enjoy tease and denial.”

He fell back on his pillow and laughed long and hard at her playful expression. “You, my dear, are sweetly evil. I adore you already.”

He took her out to breakfast, and then asked her to direct him to the closest mall.

“Why?”

“I didn’t bring any suits on this trip. I planned on securing us a place to live, then returning home to arrange the move. My diagnosis changed my plans.” He glanced at her. “I refuse to get married dressed like a slob.”

She arched an eyebrow at that. He looked like a businessman on casual Friday—pressed khakis and button-up shirt. No tie, but the last thing she thought when she looked at him was slob. “Don’t dress up on my account.”

He pulled into a parking space. “Love, I have never been married. I realize this is a bit of a rush and all, but I would like to make an attempt at doing this the right way.”

“I suppose you want me to dress up, too?” she teased.

He leaned in and kissed her. “I don’t expect a formal white gown.”

“I would hope not.” She smiled. “I’m far past wearing something as light as ivory, I’m afraid.”

He laughed. “That makes two of us.”

He purchased a black designer suit at a high-end department store and paid them extra to complete the alterations that afternoon. He let her pick the purple silk tie, and when they finished, he led her to the women’s department and coaxed her into a beautiful, deep purple dress. When she went to pay for it, he gently took it from her and laid it on the counter. “I’m paying. This is for my fiancée.”

Her heart skipped in her chest at his tone. She had to swallow before she could speak. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her, leaving her breathless. “I want to do it.”

But he wasn’t finished. On their way through the mall he pulled up short outside of a jewelry store and smiled. “Come along, love. Another chore. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.”

He walked inside.

She swallowed hard and followed him. He browsed through the display cases of wedding band sets. “What strikes your fancy?”

“Just get something cheap. Whatever.” Another thought struck her. “How’d you know my ring size?” The engagement ring fit perfectly.

“I guessed based on your pictures. Slender hands, light bones. Ooh, I like this set. What do you think?” He pointed to a beautiful gold set, engraved with an intricate pattern and inlaid with small diamonds.

“It’s beautiful.” The sales clerk pulled it out. When Tilly saw the price, she choked. “Landry, seriously? That’s over two grand.”

He turned his green eyes on her. “So? Do you like it?”

“Yes, but—”

“We’ll take it,” he told the clerk.

Tilly tried to protest. “Okay, I mean, I know you have money, but seriously? Is this necessary?”

He turned to her and gently grabbed her hands as he pulled her close. With his forehead touching hers, he whispered, “Please, humor me. I don’t ever plan on getting married again in my life, and I would prefer to do it as right as I can under the circumstances. I can afford this.”

Jesus Christ, the guy might not make it. She found it hard to remember when he acted like he was fine.

With a deep sigh, she agreed. “All right.”

Her heart fluttered over his beaming smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed her.

Well, okay then.

He sent her to the mall’s food court to get him coffee while he paid for the rings. Then they had lunch and returned to her house. He hadn’t called Cris, unless he did it when not within her sight.

She wondered what was going through Cris’ mind, if he felt worried, jealous.

Angry.

Fearful that perhaps he’d been abandoned?

On that last point she sincerely hoped so. Give him a taste of it.

“You feel sorry for him,” Landry said as they pulled into her driveway.

“Excuse me?”

“You look deep in thought.”

“You’re spooky.”

“Cris tells me that a lot.”

She smiled. “Aha. You said his name again.”

He carried her packages inside for her, including new shoes she’d bought to match the dress.

“As you said, after the big night it will be easier to move past this.”

“Don’t be pissed at him on my account.”

“I’m not. I’m pissed at him on mine.”

She smacked her forehead. “Aw, crap.”

“What?”

She winced and looked at him. “It’s Friday. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ross and Loren and then go with them to the club tonight.”

“Ah.” He thought about it for a moment. “I’d like to meet them.”

“Oh, yeah, great plan,” she snorted. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain you? ‘Hey, Ross, I know you said you’d castrate Cris with a propane torch if you ever saw him again, but I’d like you to meet my fiancé, his Master. Oh, by the way, they’re both living with me.’” She laughed. “Um, yeah.”

His eyebrow arched. “Propane torch? I like his style. I’ll hold slave down for him.”

“That’s a recurring theme with you, isn’t it? You really are a sadist.”

“I have no use for his testicles. I only need his ass and his cock.” He frowned. “Then again, I don’t need his cock, either. We have some really nice toys that do just as well and never go soft.”

She snorted. “No. His testicles and cock stay attached to his body. If anyone should get first crack at them, it’s me.”

“That’s my girl. Now you’re talking.” He sat on the sofa and studied her. “So you haven’t dated anyone since Cris? Except for your date with Bob, I mean.”

Heat filled her face. “Do we need to talk about this right now?”

“Well, it does make it more difficult to explain me to your friends, I suppose,” he said. “They won’t buy the ‘secret internet boyfriend’ excuse.” He patted his lap. “Come here,” he softly said.

“What?”

“Just come here. Please?”

Warily eyeing him, she walked over. He gently caught her wrist and pulled her down onto the couch so she straddled his lap, facing him. He rested his hands on her thighs. The position put her eye to eye with him, making her jeans suddenly feel way too tight, rubbing her clit in an uncomfortably erotic way.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “I would be more than happy to explain the situation for you, if you wish. I will gladly take the brunt of their ire.”

She rested her hands on his chest. Nice chest. Very nice chest. She slipped them up to his shoulders and settled her bottom a little more comfortably onto his thighs. Nice, firm thighs.

Oh fuck. I am sooo screwed.

“I can’t keep this from them. They come over for dinner and movie nights. Loren comes over a couple of times a week for lunch or to help humiliate a client who wants a witness. We can’t keep Cris locked in a closet.”

His hands slid up to her waist before settling on her hips. “Sure we can. Why not? He won’t mind.”

She smiled. “Seriously,” she said.

“I was serious. Again I ask, what do you want to do?”

She knew the question pertained to the whole Loren and Ross roasting Cris’ chestnuts on a not-so-open fire issue, but she let that drop in lieu of leaning in and kissing Landry. She relaxed into it, enjoying the feel of his arms slipping around her and pulling her to him as she draped hers around his neck.

When she finally lifted her head she found she had trouble catching her breath. “If you fuck half as good as you kiss, you might find yourself getting laid by a woman on a regular basis, gay or not.”

He stroked her back. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

She nodded.

“Did he leave you with triggers set?”

Her face reddened and she tried to stand, but he wouldn’t let her. “Tilly, please,” he said. “Tell me.”

“Why should I?” Her heart raced. This was a bad, baaaad idea.

“I promise I won’t exploit them. Please?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I knew I could have had Ross get rid of them for me,” she whispered, “but I didn’t have the heart to.” It surprised her when she broke down crying.

It surprised her even more when she let Landry draw her close, comforting, holding her, soothing her. “Is that why you never dated?”

“No,” she sniffled. “I never met anyone worth dating before Bob.” She didn’t want to think about Bob now. She felt badly about him, because he would, undoubtedly, be hurt by this turn of events. Especially now that she sensed she was uncomfortably slipping into unknown emotional territory with Landry. “I mean, I knew it wouldn’t stop me from being with anyone else, but…” She sniffled again.

He continued gently stroking her back. “It hurt more to get rid of them than to let them lay dormant,” he quietly said.

“Yeah.” She lifted her head. “How’d you know?”

He sadly smiled. “How do you think Cris learned to place them? He said the same thing when he returned. I think that’s partly why he became a Dom, because he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else topping him without them changing or eliminating his triggers first. He knew because of the way he is that they would have to use triggers on him when playing.”

He had her lay on the couch, her head in his lap, and close her eyes. His voice soothed her, no doubt about it. “Did he use French?” Landry asked.

She nodded, then another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “He learned that from you, too.”

“Oui, ma cherie.”

She laughed.

“Shh.” He stroked her forehead and softly spoke to her. She did trust him not to go back on his word, to not take advantage of her. She let him lead her not into subspace, but into a light trance where she relaxed and let go of her tension under his gentle guidance.

When he started to remove her long-dormant triggers, her pulse suddenly raced, panic setting in. She grabbed his hand as she broke into full consciousness. “No, wait. Stop. I can’t.” She started crying. “Don’t do it. Please don’t do it!”

He quickly gathered her close and held her. “It’s all right, love,” he soothed as she sobbed against him. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay.”

She didn’t want to move. As stupid as she knew it was, she felt safe in his arms. Just more wishful thinking on her part? She didn’t know. That’s when an idea hit. “Set your own,” she said.

“Anchor me to you.”

Landry was glad she had her face buried against his shoulder and couldn’t see the shocked expression he knew he wore. “What?” He couldn’t have heard her right.

“Set your own triggers for me. Leave his and set your own.”

His hand faltered as he stroked her hair. It wouldn’t be difficult. In someone who’d never gone through the process, who wasn’t used to hypnosis and trances and subspace, it usually took a while to accomplish after a bond of trust was established. But she already had triggers.

Deeply engrained ones.

Most people going through what she went though would eventually release them naturally on their own. Yet she still loved Cris. If she’d dated and had relationships with others, her triggers would have faded as she fell in love.

“Why?”

“I’m marrying you.” She poked him in the arm without lifting her face from his shoulder. “This doesn’t mean you can top me like a Dom. But maybe it’ll make Monday night easier on both of us if you use triggers.”

She had a valid point. “How much French do you know?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “Je crois toi. ”

I trust you.

It both warmed his heart and scared the crap out of him. He’d fucked up the first time with Cris.

She’d been through so much, he didn’t want that responsibility with her, didn’t want to destroy what little love and faith remained in her. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“Je parle un peu francais. Not as much as you or Cris, I’m sure.”

He smiled. “Smartass.”

“Oui, monsieur.”

He had to hand it to her, her pronunciation sounded spot-on. Cris was mistaken for a native speaker when he took him to France, and if he’d taught her, it made sense she’d learned the same accent. She had a good ear. No wonder she’d picked up on his accent, even though most people couldn’t tell he had one. He’d worked damn hard to sound like an American.

“Lie down.”

She settled in again, tightly gripping his hand, their fingers laced together. He took her back down into a trance and slowly started working with her, her grip on his hand relaxing as her trance state deepened. He gently stepped around what Cris had done, triggers still embedded unbelievably deep in her mind.

Cris had learned well.

Landry had eagerly studied first NLP, and then later hypnosis, when introduced to it by another Dom before he met Cris. In his youthful egotism, he’d used Cris as his guinea pig with mind-blowing results for both of them.

He shoved those memories out of his mind as he worked with her. She wasn’t lying about trusting him. Considering her past, if she hadn’t trusted him no way would she let him move through her mind like this.

He kept it simple, a few basic things that might make Monday night go more smoothly for both of them. And yet, that guilty pang. Would she want him for him, or because he’d made it easy for her to let go and relax with hypnosis?

Or because she would be handsomely compensated?

He squeezed her hand as he set the triggers, eventually bringing her back up to full conscious.

She lay there, staring up at him with those sweet hazel eyes. He stood, then scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom despite her laughing protests.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to test them, don’t I?” He kissed her, silencing her as she tightened her grip around his neck.

He gently placed her on her bed and climbed in with her, laying on her right, propped up on one arm. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

Her lower lip had caught under her teeth, betraying her nerves. Her eyes dropped closed.

With a feather-light touch, he trailed his fingers up her left arm. “You’re beautiful, love,” he whispered.

Her body started relaxing under his touch even as her sexual tension ramped up. Her face flushed as her breath quickened.

He drew his fingers down her arm again and laced them through hers. Gently, he guided her hand over her flat tummy to the waistband of her jeans.

He nuzzled her forehead, his lips brushing her flesh. “Open them,” he whispered.

Loosening his grip so she could free her hand, she did, unbuttoning them and lowering the zipper. He felt the slight nervous tremor in her hand before he released it.

“Very good,” he softly cooed. “That’s my very good girl. My very beautiful girl.” He kissed her forehead and prayed she didn’t feel his painful erection pressing against her thigh. He could fuck her right this second except they needed to talk a little more about that first. Not to mention he didn’t want to take advantage of her in this state. He laced his fingers through hers again. “Keep your eyes closed and listen to me.”

He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips even though what he really wanted to do was devour her, plunge his tongue into her mouth and fuck her with it the way he now wanted to fuck her with his cock. “How long has it been since you last came?”

“Since then.”

He blinked, her answer almost startling him out of his role. He bit back his surprised, “What?”

in lieu of a calmer, more controlled response. “No, love. I didn’t mean with Cris. I meant when was the last time you played with yourself?”

“I haven’t. I don’t.”

Part of him wanted to sit up and discuss it right then, because he suspected she wasn’t understanding him. Part of him felt loathe to break the spell he had her under.

He guided her hand under the waistband of her panties, pleasantly surprised to discover she kept herself shaved. Her breath quickened, shallow, almost gasping.

Nuzzling her ear, he gently nipped the lobe. “Play with yourself for me.”

That’s when her body tensed. “I…can’t.”

“I won’t move my hand, I promise. I’m here with you.”

Slowly, her fingers started stroking her clit as he quietly whispered encouraging words in her ear, coaxing, gently soothing her as her body first relaxed, then filled with a sweet sensual tension he knew signaled she’d really got into it. He slipped his hand down further, enough he could curl two fingers and press them inside her.

She gasped at the feeling, her own hand’s motions quickening as she turned her head toward him, burying her face against his shoulder.

He switched to French. “Don’t come yet. Be my good girl.”

She softly whimpered as her hips joined the party, rocking and pressing her hand against his as he slowly finger-fucked her wet pussy.

Jesus, she’s soaked! She was also fucking tight. He’d be shooting off in no time if he didn’t wear a cock ring. He tried to ignore his throbbing erection as his fingers easily slipped in and out of her.

After a few minutes she’d totally let go, her hips bucking and rocking as his fingers plunged into her again and again, her body writhing against his as she begged in French for release.

He studied her face. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Her eyelids fluttered open.

“Come now!” he ordered. He pressed his fingers deep inside her, feeling her muscles squeezing him.

He hoped she didn’t hear him groan over the exquisite sensation as she cried out. He pressed his palm against her hand, holding her fingers tight against her clit. “Again!”

Her back arched as she moaned. He leaned in and kissed her, hard, this time letting his tongue do to her what he wished his cock could do to her body. He gathered her to him, tightly holding her she sobbed in his arms. Forcing back his impatience to find out if these were good or bad tears, he waited her out.

As she relaxed, her cries turning to sniffles, he looked down into her eyes and smiled.

When she smiled back, he relaxed, relieved. “Good?”

She nodded, deliberately squirming against his cock. “What about you?”

“What about me?” When she tried to reach down and squeeze him through his pants, he caught her hand in his and brought her fingers up to his mouth where he sucked them between his lips, laving his tongue over them.

“How about I take care of you?” she asked.

“I don’t need taking care of.”

She snorted, amused. “Um, yeah. Don’t make me ask if that’s a dildo in your pocket or if you’re just happy to see me.”

“I can wait until Monday.”

He wished he’d phrased it differently when a cloud drifted through her expression. “Okay,” she softly said. “Sorry.”

He mentally swore. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She sat up and edged away from him as she wiped her face with her hands. “No, it’s okay. I get it. It’s hard to remember you’re gay when you can blow my fucking mind like that.”

Hooking an arm around her, he pulled her to him, rolling her on top of him. “Maybe I’m not gay after all.”

Her hands landed on the mattress on either side of his head when he grabbed her. “Then what the hell are you? You’re not bi, you said so.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m homoflexible. Straight for you.” He reached up and stroked her hair, then cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down to kiss her again. “How do you feel about blow jobs?”

She ground her hips against his, making his cock ache in a good way. “Pretty good, as long as you don’t mind that I’m out of practice.”

He laughed at her playful smirk. “Then feel free to ravish me, Mistress Cardinal.” Her body tensed again, in a bad way. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice lowered. “Can you please not call me that? At least not like this. Not when we’re alone together.”

He reached up and stroked her cheek. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“It just feels…weird. She’s not a real person. She’s a job. I don’t want her in our bedroom.”

“Is that another Cardinal rule?”

He loved her cautious, vulnerable smile. “Yeah.”

“What about Monday?”

Her face hardened. “That’s different. That’s me giving him a majorly well deserved fuck you ass kicking.”

He pulled her down to him and kissed her. “You said ‘our bedroom.’”

She blushed. “So?”

He smiled and stroked her cheek again. “If we’re going to share a bed, at least let me take you shopping for a new one. A larger one we can comfortably spread out in.”

That broke her funk. She laughed, dropping her head to his chest while he stroked her back.

Then he realized she was creeping south and he let her, lacing his hands behind his head so he could watch her.

Her gaze rose to his as she unfastened his slacks and tugged them down, pleasantly surprised to find he’d gone commando. She never broke contact with his gaze as she slowly stroked his cock with her fingers, slipping his foreskin back and working from sac to head and back again, before swirling her tongue around the tip, flicking the ridge as she explored.

“Oh, fuck!” he breathed.

Torturously slow, he watched as his cock disappeared between her lips, deep into her throat until all eight inches were encased inside her sweetly hot mouth right up to the very root.

She knew what she was doing to him, he watched the corners of her eyes crinkle in amusement as she slowly worked her way back up to the head again. When her hand cupped his sac, her fingers drifting lower to play with his taint, he didn’t bother holding back. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and worked his hips in time with her movements. Eventually he reached down and rested his hands on her head as he thrust, until she finally pressed a finger against his rim and he exploded.

She went deep again, staying with him until he eventually finished and softened and she freed his spent member. He stroked her head as she rested her cheek against his abs.

After a few minutes, he sighed. “Okay. I’m definitely homoflexible. I’ll have no problem being straight for you.”

She laughed and kissed his stomach before straddling him again. “Yeah?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Yeah.”

They took a shower, barely avoiding ending up back in bed. She enjoyed standing under the spray, cradled in his arms, the feel of his warm flesh surrounding her as steam curled around them and water beaded on her skin. After, she called Loren and asked if they minded an addition to their dinner and found out not only did they not mind, but friends of theirs, Kim and Kylee, would be joining them as well. Tilly hoped that would keep her friend’s questions to a minimum until Loren cornered her in private later. They frequented the same restaurant, a family-owned Italian bistro on U.S. 41 they’d gone to for years. Loren wanted to quiz Tilly about her date, but she artfully avoided her questions with the old, “Sorry, incoming call, I’ll see you later,” line.

Dodged that bullet. Temporarily.

Their routine was to eat first, then run home, change, and meet at the private club. Sometimes Tilly brought a client, normally she didn’t. If she went alone, she usually ended up helping top other sub men, invited to play by her friends.

“We need to go bed shopping too, if we have time,” he said. “I also need to stop by the hotel and leave more money for slave and get my toy bag.”

Fear gripped her. She held up her hands, angry. “Whoa! Stop right the fuck there! You are not fucking topping me tonight!”

He pulled her into his arms. “Of course I’m not, love.” He kissed her. She hated that she wanted to melt right there. “It’s just to fuck with slave’s mind. I don’t plan on removing the toy bag from the trunk. I do plan on making sure he sees me taking it, as well as clothes to wear to the club.”

Relief flooded her. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I should have clarified that comment. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He gently cupped her face in his palms. “I meant what I said. I won’t top you. I won’t try to be your Master or Dom. I do, however, want to be the best husband I can be.” He kissed her again.

“Why had you gone so long without coming?”

She reddened. “We can discuss that later,” she mumbled.

He hugged her tightly before releasing her. “Very well. Now let’s go.”