Up until now, I hadn't felt ready for fatherhood. At only eighteen, it had been a daunting prospect to step up to the task of caring for another, and selfishly, I've enjoyed being answerable to no one but myself for all this time. Yet, as I stare down at my tiny daughter stirring in my arms, a lump rises in my throat and all my built-up doubt shifts. I can no longer imagine my life without her.

"It seems she has her dada wrapped around her finger already," Louise says, stifling a wearied yawn as her head rests against my shoulder.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," I reply, unable to tear my eyes away from Rebekah as I lay her back down in the incubator. From her small hands to her button nose and the brown fuzz of hair on her head, I'm in wonder of this person we created from the briefest time we loved one another. That's if you could count us as ever being in love at all. "Let's get a tea while the doctors make their checks. How are you feeling today? Did you manage to get any sleep last night?"

My attention falls on Rebekah's mother beside me, who'd gone through a hell of a time for two days to bring her safely into the world. Louise's mental and physical strength had been incredible to witness, that even with her messy bun and exhaustion evident from her sallow complexion, I remain awestruck by her.

Louise laughs and meets my curious glance as she follows me into the parents' room. "Sleep? I've almost forgotten what that is."

"I wish they'd let me stay to help you-" 

I'm unguarded as she entwines our hands and then presses a chaste kiss against my mouth. Whether a lapse of judgment from the tiredness or high emotions, my eyes close as I lose myself in the moment to kiss her back and allow the connection to linger between our lips. I've lost count of these brief sparks of intimacy she's instigated in these quiet hours alone since I allowed her to kiss me when our baby arrived. 

Or was it I who stupidly initiated that kiss in a haze of teary-eyed relief?

I hadn't felt anything for her in months, and still nothing flickers within me. However, the uncomfortable truth is that we'd made a good team while I soothed her through the difficult labour, held her against me, and murmured gentle encouragement when it seemed too much. She had no one else to rely on, not even her family, who still hadn't visited to check on her wellbeing. It wouldn't be hard to misinterpret that support for something more, and I can't help but feel that we've grown closer without the involvement of others. 

There's a light rapt on the door as my father interrupts us from our entanglement. I don't know how long he's been lurking in the corridor, possibly listening to us before choosing his moment. Still, the tension building between us can be cut with a knife. "I thought I'd pop in before dropping Matt at work. How are you both doing?"

Louise beams, glowing red across her cheeks as we break apart. "Much better, so she might be rooming in with me tonight. Doctors are doing their rounds now."

"Ah! I'd hoped to finally see her," he replies with his smile dropping in disappointment. "But tell me, you've settled on her name, at least? All of the family are asking. We should also plan for her baptism." 

"Rebekah," Louise replies, standing firm with her decision. "But, she'll take my surname for now."

"For now?" He glances at me while I make the tea in stupified silence, with an expectant look flashing across his face. "Does that mean congratulations are owed? You finally saw sense!"

Before I can correct his assumption, Louise links her arm with mine. "Actually, he hasn't worked up the nerve yet... Maybe soon if I'm lucky?"

"Why are you still dragging your feet, boy! It's your duty to provide and support your family, just like I did. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times that no son of mine will neglect their responsibilities. So do as you're told and sort it out."

"You're kidding, right? You do know we're not living in the seventies and eighties like you were, Dad? Having a kid doesn't automatically mean you have to rush into these things before you have the chance to know someone-"

"Oh, so it's like that, then?" My father suddenly brightens as he pulls out his phone from his pocket. "I'd still prefer an engagement when you live under one roof, but I'll try explaining it to your aunt. Let me pass on the good news."

Wait. Live under one roof? I thought I'd been saved from a mistake when he arrived, but I've now been backed into a corner by his misunderstanding and had the rug yanked from beneath me. 

"Where the hell did you get that idea? We haven't discussed anything yet-" But Louise stops me from pursuing him out of the room with her hand grabbing my arm. "Why are you encouraging him when we haven't spoken about this? He's already so pig-headed that explaining anything to him is... impossible! The last thing we need is to give him the wrong idea. And don't let my family bully you into doing things you don't want. I'd rather our kid gets a decision in what they believe in than be forced into it."

Louise smiles coyly before cuddling into me. "He reminds me of someone else I know. But he is right. We'd be good together, and the only one stopping us from being happy is you. Every time I think about it, you've almost been romantic. The way you swept me off my feet and became protective over me. Then you were here for everything... No one would act like that unless they had some feelings."

"But I've already told you I'm not in the right place for a relationship," I reply, recoiling from her. If we hadn't broken up, I'd count myself blessed with what I have now, but I can't forget how badly she'd burnt me and torn me to the ground with the fake accusations and belittlement. "I think it's time we set some ground rules. We can't keep doing this every time I see you-"

"Really?" For the first time in this blissful week, Louise's tone becomes familiarly sharp, almost accusatory. "I don't see why we can't. Unless you're still seeing her?"

Her... Charlotte, who I've cowardly ignored all week to avoid the awkward questions on why I bailed on her without a word and the fact I have no time for her. Or whether it's worth trying again when I'm uncertain of what I should do. Not to mention that idiotic kiss.

Instantly, my throat tightens in guilt, and I ruffle my hand through my hair as I make my excuse. I need time to think. "Actually, I should go and find my dad. Ollie will kick off if I'm late for work tonight. It's gonna be heaving."

She continues to block the doorway. "But you kissed me first, and avoiding this won't make it go away, Matthew! It's only right that you should take responsibility for that!"

I rub my shoulder in my awkwardness as I look at her hopeful face, wishing I didn't have to relive the memory with her. But this faux, nurturing cocoon we've built around us these past few days needs dismantling, and the barriers must come back up. Even if it means I have to upset her again to do it. "You're looking far too much into it... I only kissed you because I was lonely. It's the only reason why I kissed you the night we met. It's not in me to be the person you need, and we've pretended it didn't happen, but I know you heard more than I wanted you to hear when you called me."

Predictably, she turns beet red and shuts me down. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Louise. You called me while I was having sex... That's the real me-"

"Well, she hurt you, and I don't judge you for being taken in by someone like her. Everyone makes mistakes," she replies with a dismissive shake of her head, unperturbed by my reasoning. "I know you're healing, but we can make it work as long as she's out of your life."

A smile spreads thinly over my lips. "You're missing the point... Or being deliberately obtuse. But it was all consensual with my ex, and I can never return to regular ol' vanilla like you want and be satisfied with it. I don't love you, and as much as I hate admitting that I'm like my father, I'll definitely stray. I have no desire to waste my life being tied down to one person."

"I don't care," Louise says, attempting to sniff back her tears, which fall as distracting droplets over her flushed cheeks. "All that matters is that you sleep in my bed at the end of the day and treat me like your wife. What I don't know won't hurt me."

Wow. Just wow. "Let's get one thing straight. I have no intention of ever marrying you, and I'm not attracted to you. It would be an entirely sexless relationship if we were ever together."

She rolls her wet eyes. "As if someone like you could withhold from sex."

"Yes... With you, I could. I've already said that I won't be faithful. I'll find someone else for those needs, so like I've said before, we're best being friends, and that's all."

Her hands shove against my chest, but she stops herself short from following it up with the expected slap. Fury flares in her eyes, a look that startling makes my stomach somersault with dangerous desire as I'm reminded of Charlotte. "Then I don't want to be friends. Now get out. I'm tired of you."

"Fine. I'll come back when you've had time to think about how unreasonable you're being," I snap back. "You should be thankful that I'm being upfront now rather than sneaking around when it's too late for you to change your mind."

As I slam through the double doors, I nearly collide with my father in the corridor, with his mobile dangling in his limp hand. I realise he's heard it all. And with my undesirable perversion in his eyes rearing its ugly head to him yet again, his voice is laced with revulsion. "The unreasonable one is you for not appreciating what you've got, and if I find out you're seeing that whore again, you'll have to get through me before I let you anywhere near Louise and that child. Now don't come back until you've sorted that fucking attitude out."

-----

I'd assumed the bar work would be easy, and the quieter shifts earlier in the week had instilled a false sense of confidence. But, even with a limited range of beer on tap, spirits, and cheap pre-mixed cocktails, there's a marked change in the pace on a Friday night. I've also messed up by clashing with both Louise and my father over something as trivial as my pride when it was unlikely that Charlotte would forgive me for ignoring her the past week. 

It would have been better if I'd kept my mouth shut. As much as my father pesters me into 'taking responsibility' for Louise, there's no chance that he can physically force me to marry her. Hell, he could go as far as move her in, pay for the ceremony, and drag me up the aisle, but he can't control me like a puppet to verbally agree to take her as a wife. I should have sucked up his criticism and then ignored it instead of doubling down during a time that I need to prove myself. I don't know when she'll allow me to be around her next.

In my distraction, I almost don't notice the familiar face of my malevolent ex-mistress staring back at me as she holds out a crisp twenty. The dark, vampire-red lips curve into a sexy, sardonic smile. "Hi. I'll have a Jack and Ginger. Plenty of ice."

My eyes widen as my gaze lowers to her jaw-dropping black, figure-hugging lace dress, then back to her red-lined, hardened eyes. I know she's aware my situation has changed from Becka, although it's ridiculous to believe she's actually here for me. A chance encounter to redeem myself? Excitement thunders through my heart as I hand over her drink, followed by her change, which I place directly into her palm. Sparks of anticipation jolt within me as I dart the first thing that comes to mind, "I didn't expect to see you here. How are you doing?"

It's a ridiculous question, and she says nothing, instead choosing to drain her cup. Her dignity won't let her admit that she'd waited endlessly for me to show that day and then the day following that. I've already had the earful from an irate Becka, adding to my reluctance to contact her.

My head lowers with shame as I find myself unable to continue meeting her beautiful eyes. That usually penetrating, lethal gaze of hers feels unfathomably melancholic and lonely. I've hurt her. I'd knowingly chose Louise over her, not to mention the earlier kiss remaining on my lips and replaying in agonising detail. "I know you're mad at me, and I don't blame you. You were rightly worried I'd do something like this and drop the ball with us, but Louise needed me. If you want to move on, I'll understand... I won't make this harder on you."

"You're seriously going to say that to me?" she sneers, slamming the now empty plastic cup on the counter so hard that it bounces to the floor. "I want you to fight for me! I want to hear that you can't live without me, Matt, and to beg for another chance at us... This is indifference. It's pathetic!"

Her words sting deep, and I'm at a loss for poorly rehearsed excuses. "I-I'm sorry. I've missed you, but I've just been so busy, and I still don't have my phone back, so I couldn't call. And I've been so afraid of trying to make it up to you... Can we talk once my shift ends so I can try to explain?"

She blinks at me, then drops her stare with dismissal. "Just forget it. I'm only here to have fun and get fucked, and I don't care by who-"

"Then, would you care if it was with me? Even if it's just for tonight."

"You?" My heart skips a beat as her dark eyes switch on to me again, incredulous by my emboldened response spilling out thoughtlessly. "I thought you had that lame wife and kid shtick now. The whole head-over-fucking-heels, rushing up the altar shit."

I shake my head, desperate to keep her long enough to talk. "It's not like that! It'll never be like that. I want you no matter what anyone says."

Then she tosses her lustrous black locks as she turns away, mumbling a reply, "Maybe. I'll think about it."

For almost an hour, I remain captivated as she dances with reckless abandon in the mosh pit with the fragility of a stunning yet toxic black hellebore buffeted in a hurricane. Drinks are flying, and the discarded cups are kicked around by the stomping, drunk revellers. But she remains dancing alone, without a pause for another drink, even as Discharge's guttural politics and distorted guitars whip the mob of aggressive bodies to a heightened frenzy. 

Eventually, the tempo of the music changes, and the mood shifts as The Misfit's Helena plays. Like an exotic dancer, Charlotte holds my attention as she performs her erotic display, using the sensuality of her hips swaying seductively to the beat and her hands palming her body to keep me salivating. It's only as she teasingly pulls at the hem of her thigh-length dress and flashes me a glimpse beneath the taffeta that I quickly learn she's entirely nude beneath the thin lace material. 

"Join me," the siren mouths in open invitation, coaxing me towards her on the dancefloor with her index finger. Her sexy, rouged lipstick would look delightful smeared around my long-neglected cock, and fifty different ways of fucking her through to Sunday pop through my skull.

Fuck. I'm doomed.

"I'm warning you now to not go there if you care what's good for you. She'll break you," Ollie says, elbowing me painfully in the arm as he eyes her warily. "But from that lovestruck, pathetic puppy look on your face, I guess you already know her."

Mortified by being caught, I busy myself with wiping the bar I've been repetitively cleaning the past ten minutes, but I find myself glimpsing back at her and smirking. She's a delight to watch, with her hands now lewdly stroking over her spectacular, partially exposed breasts while she sings along to The Damned. No one can deny she isn't the hottest woman here right now. "I wouldn't say no if she still wants me..."

He glances at his watch, then throws me a bone. "Go on, take a break. But, twenty minutes tops and be discrete."

I want to whoop for joy as I saunter over, threading through the lustful crowd pairing up and getting off near the night's end. It would be foolish to date her again, but I yearn for her vicious brand of love with every fibre of my being. Nothing has come close to the satisfaction I achieve from being toyed with and fucked by her. Something Louise and my father would never understand. But, from the lascivious glances around the dancefloor towards her, I must step up my game to earn a chance at a sordid night between her thighs and hear her call out my name.

"So, have you decided that we can talk now?" I murmur, curling an arm around Charlotte's narrow waist from behind and pulling her into a slow dance. "You look so sexy tonight that I can't keep my eyes off you."

She throws her head back in a cackle of laughter as I spin her into my arms, then press my crotch against her firm arse. "Hm... I still don't know if you deserve the chance. Perhaps you should beg me to forgive you in bed first?"

My breath catches in arousal. "Well, to tell you the truth, I've been thinking about how I want to rip off your clothes and fuck you right here."

"Even with an audience?" She presses her lips to my ear conspiratorily as her head falls against my shoulder, allowing her messy, sweat-sheened hair to tickle my neck. "Maybe I can think about it while you give me a reminder?"

On the darkened dancefloor, to the crooning of Joey Ramone, my hand slips beneath her mini-dress and over her smooth, bare mound as I hold her against me. She's wet already from her own teasing, and her fluids drip down her bare thighs while I play, rubbing along the nub of her clit and labia. My cock fully hardens to her groans, and her palm now frisking up my untucked shirt, then under my waistband. 

"Shh... We'll get caught if you moan too much," I murmur into her neck while I kiss her, gliding my other hand across her chest. Wearing no bra, the softness of her breasts are fully palpable, and with her erect, cherry-like nipples poking through the sheer material of her dress between my fingers, my tongue licks my bottom lip at the memory of suckling at her bosom. I could easily unzip my jeans and then finish the both of us here, but I'd rather take my time to fully enjoy everything her body offers tonight. "Or maybe I'd like us to be caught so everyone knows you're mine?"

"I've never been yours..." she growls back ineffectively. "It is I who owns you."

With my thumb, I tilt her chin to kiss her possessively on her smudged, parted lips. This is like a dream after so long apart, and if it is, I hope to never wake up. "Heh, you can believe that all you want, beautiful. But right now, you're a puddle in my arms. Perhaps I shouldn't be handing it over too easily."

Her body writhes against mine as I lift the hem up on her dress and thrust my fingers deeply within her beneath the shadows. I'm growing harder by the second as we kiss again, and my clothed cock rubs along her moist, bared slit. I'm fast losing the grip of my control, the guise of slow dancing together slipping as we blatantly touch each other. "Fuck me... Put it in and do me..."

"You sound desperate... really, fucking desperate for it," I say, raggedly exhaling between my teeth as I lower my fly. "Maybe you should ask me nicely?"

Her voice is husky as I nip at her ear and suck the snagged lobe. "Don't you dare tease me... Keep going. Ah!"

The naked head of my cock slides between her thighs, guided by my fist, and then I stroke over her engorged clitoris, circling the movements while I'm coated in her profuse, slippery fluids. I want to bury myself inside her, and Charlotte's eyes close as I bring her to the precipice, using myself as a toy, with her deepening moans almost undoing me. It's clear she very much wants me to continue, but the lights are no longer as dim as they were.

In a state of undress, I lead us to a booth and guide her onto my lap, draping her arms loosely around my shoulders. I shouldn't be doing this with her, and it's not just my dad who's going to flip out, but my draw to this passionate yet fierce woman can no longer be ignored. I want her, and bizarrely, she still wants to be mine despite my circumstances.

"This is a different side to you," she breathes huskily as I tear down the front of her dress and suckle a hardened nipple between my teeth. "You're a man possessed... Ah!"

I can do nothing but blink at her in adoration as I trail my tongue to her other breast and leave my mark with a lovebite on the fullness of her chest. Bitterness spreads over my tastebuds at discovering the exotic eau de parfum she's applied liberally along the collarbone. Still, I'm unperturbed as I claim her again, then lavishly suck upon her neck. 

I've built this moment up in my mind countlessly. Jacked off to it and photos of us in the lonesome hours of the night. Still, none of those ideas come close to shagging on a sticky, beer and fag-ash congealed pvc couch to the Sex Pistol's Pretty Vacant, with the devil-may-care attitude of a rock 'n' roll superstar. Yet, I also never fantasised about us being eye-fucked by a green-mohawked crust punk while he gets a sloppy blowie from a Blondie-lookalike bombshell beneath the table. With a hardened countenance so waxy and weather-beaten that he can't be a day under sixty or heard of the miracle of skin protection, I fear his cum face will wane my ardour if I'm not shanked by his eight-inch spiked new rock boots beside me first.

However, the fear of that vanishes quickly. The spicy warmth of ginger tingles on my tongue, cheeks and gums as Charlotte uses her full weight to force me beneath her and pin me down. I crave her, and it's more than her intoxicating breath, exhaling life into me that I need. My fingers roam and slip from around her hips to between her thighs to play with the wetness dripping over my cock. I've never had the privilege to touch her as freely as this, and it's evident that I'm not getting my formidable domme tonight, but rather a softer, sensual woman desperate for adoration and love.

We continue to kiss, our teeth almost clashing in hunger for each other as we hold back the desperation to strip off the remainder of our clothes. I want to get carried away with her, and although I need the job more than my need to get off, it's obvious what we're doing beneath the frills of Charlotte's skirt. Still, that minor distinction between full nudity is likely the only reason we haven't been turfed out on the street already by my boss.

But that patience is unravelling.

Charlotte's pussy rubs in circles over my smooth helmet, and then she arches back, tilting her hips as my thickened cock enters and fans open the silken petals of her labia. I can tell from her pained whimpers that I'm almost too well endowed, but like always, we perfectly mould together as our bodies move and grind in harmony. 

"Fuck me... I've missed this," I growl, wrapping my hands around her creamy thighs to thrust deeper to the hilt. Thank fuck this is only a quickie, or I'd be appalled by my performance.

Raising the skirt on her dress so I can see everything, I massage her clit and parted lips with my thumbs before plunging inside to increase the fullness. She's slick, almost gushing with desire as I probe further with my fingers, and her legs shiver with tension. 

"Matthew... I need to... M-more, baby. You're making me feel..." she gasps throatily, now tugging firmly on my throbbing balls. With her climax, she undoes the last of my resolve as her cunt vigorously contracts and milks me, drawing every drop from my cum-filled, sacks. A white light flashes behind my eyes as they roll back, but I remain buried and thrust within her as my cock pulsates to her final tremors. 

Charlotte begins to laugh at the absurdity, with my semen visibly dribbling from between her thighs, but her fingers wrap around my cock to ready me for round two. I wish I didn't have to lose her from my embrace so soon, but my break is over. Charlotte pouts as I gently nudge her off. "As much as I'm dying to be inside you again, I need to get back, babe," I say, teasing her by bringing my slippery, juicy digits to my mouth to suck. "Mmm... You know where to find me if you decide to forgive me."

As I swagger back to the bar in my dishevelled state and to my slack-jawed boss, I realise he's kept tabs on me the entire time we've been getting down and dirty. But I can't hide the satisfaction creeping onto my face at how readily I won her back in only twenty minutes, and I laugh with elation at my lustful night ahead. 

"Don't you look so fucking pleased with yourself. You're lucky I haven't sacked you on the spot," Ollie warns, throwing a wet rag at me. "Call in last orders, then clear up."

It's gone three by the time I walk outside, and that familiar rush of night air smacks me in the face. It's balmy but feels fresh compared to the sweltering stale club beneath. A group of rowdy loiterers still hang around, smoking and drinking, but I can't see any sign of Charlotte as expected. I felt confident from the magnetism between us and the impossibility of keeping our hands off each other that the evening continuing was guaranteed. But as a full ten minutes pass, I slowly step away from the jeering crowd before stopping in my tracks at the sound of her giggling.

"If it isn't my ex, again!" she announces loudly so that I turn back towards her. Seething jealously stabs me as I find her pressed against the brick wall, with the bustier of her dress open and her breasts fully exposed with another man. But oddly, I'm not only envious. Instead, I can imagine myself on my knees at her feet, drooling with ravenous devotion while he continues to fuck her. Something she'd discussed with me before. She isn't ashamed in the slightest; instead, she smiles and locks eyes with me while the man inside her freezes like a rabbit in headlights. "I thought we could bring Ryan back with us tonight."

"Actually, my name's Mike," the lanky, red-headed punk volunteers as he withdraws his now limp but still sizeable dick and slides off the johnny. He takes a second glance at me before shrinking back. "I think I should go..."

Deciding he'd rather not be a part of this, Mike quickly pulls up his jeans and joins his mates waiting for him around the corner. There's no fucking way he hadn't noticed he was pounding my sloppy seconds after how much I pumped into her. "Dammit, Matthew! He was both cute and bi..."

"Pity," I mutter. My arms fold over my chest as my annoyance is tinged with disappointment at the loss. "You shouldn't have used him in this stupid game of yours to make me jealous. The poor lad looked terrified I'd lamp him."

"Who says it was a game?" she muses, snatching up her handbag and high-heels before walking barefoot along the street. "Coming?"

-----

Against my better judgment, I carry Charlotte home, protecting the delicate soles of her precious, blistered feet from further injury. But it isn't all so bad, with me continuing to finger-fuck her fantastical bare arse and exposed, drenched pussy during our long walk to the point we almost don't make it to the door before we disrobe again in an impassioned flurry. 

"I can't believe you'd turn up at my work of all places," I laugh, slipping off my unfastened shirt. I suspect Mike was a peace offering of sorts, but she presented him more in the way that a pet cat would leave a maimed bird rather than an appealing snack. "That was a very welcome surprise for a rather dull evening. Or were the pickings so slim I wasn't the worst choice to bring back with you tonight? I'm assuming you've already slept with someone else-"

"And you talk too much for a toy who ruined my plans," she sighs, pushing my head down instead of accepting my kiss. "I went to L's party after you didn't show, so don't ask questions you'd rather not know. Or were you hoping I have because you're guilty about something you've done?"

"Am I supposed to feel guilty?" The rough taffeta of her underskirt crumples under the weight of my palms, pinning the cum-stained fabric on either side of her hips as I lay a kiss upon her pubis. "Or, maybe we should talk about us first so I can at least explain myself?"

I only meant to tease her, knowing her previous orgasm was just an appetiser before the main course and a double helping of dessert. I'm not anticipating the reply, "So, where were you?"

"Ah." My mood drops at her sombre voice. This shouldn't be an unhappy occasion, and I also wouldn't change having a daughter for the world, but I wish my affairs had been in order first. She deserves the truth. "At the hospital... becoming a father earlier than expected. My family are harassing me incessantly for me to marry her, and I don't think they'll stop until I relent."

Charlotte closes her eyes. She already knew, but there's a massive disparity between hearing it second-hand and getting it direct. "So, will you be returning to them or coming back home?"

I smile with fondness. We may have only lived together for a handful of months, but it seemed much longer than that. This feels more like my home than my fathers ever did, with the happier memories I hold here despite the brush with death. 

"I've gotta go back. Until I've come to an arrangement with Louise, I don't think anyone can know about us without it being held over me. But, you'll always be my gorgeous Mistress, so how can I prove that you mean the world to me?" I whisper against her moist, orgasmically sweet cunt.

"Just make it up to me in orgasms..." My raven-haired Mistress says, shaking her head as I gaze up to her glowing, naked body, then sultry face. "I've missed you."

My eager mouth kisses then laps over her invitingly wet slit while she leans against the sideboard and digs her claws into my shoulders. I know she's crying from every sob shuddering through her orgasmic body as I bring her pleasure. But I'm powerless to give her comfort and ease the fears. A life with Charlotte isn't guaranteed, with Rebekah needing stability unless she can handle my new priorities. The fact of that hangs between us, even if we're not ready to talk further about it.

Painfully, my scalp tugs with her hands burying into my hair, encouraging my tongue to thrust deeper as I lift her leg over my back and swallow. The scent of arousal fills my nostrils, driving me crazy like a starved dog deprived of nourishment. "Mmm... Your pussy... tastes... thoroughly... fucked. Too good to... share."

"Don't tell me you weren't... a little turned on watching me... with that man," she says, struggling with each gasp of breath as I stretch her wider with my fingers and then tongue inside. "I saw that... darkened glint in your eyes."

I pause dead in my tracks at my transparency, then withdraw with a smirk. "Ah, so you caught on to that? Then I'll agree to only let you fuck another man if you let me fuck him too. And if he'll fuck me while I'm fucking you, then all the better."

"So, was it a man you slept with," she asks as I rise from my knees to kiss the juncture of her hip bone. Her eyes dart over my body, searching for clues, but the bruising and scratches have since faded.

"Suddenly, you're curious?" I tease, breathing hot air against her perspired neck as I hold her and pinch her clit between my fingers. "Does the idea of me screwing another man turn you on that much?"

Charlotte perks up, "So you did?"

"Almost... Actually, someone rudely disturbed us, so I fucked her instead to keep her mouth shut like the good slut I am. But if you wish, I can seduce him for you next week and tell you how it feels letting him have his way with me," I reply, tugging gently on her clit again at her moan of excitement. "Interesting... D'you like a little role reversal when I'm rough with you?"

"I'm not a masochist- Ah!"

I pinch her snagged, engorged clitoris again, tempted by deviant ideas that I'll never be able to act out without disrupting the power dynamic between us. "Mm... You were saying, Charlotte? You keep making those kinds of noises, and I'll have to buy you a clit clamp to wear out for me."

"You mean Mistress," she warns with a soft growl. "Don't forget it."

My voice lowers to a whisper, "We both know it's too late for that tonight, so what are you gonna do about it? Put me over your knee, spank me and tell me what a bad boy I've-"

Mistress' palm clamps my mouth shut as she shoves me against the wall with a thud. Dull pain throbs in my skull, but it's not enough to dissuade me. "Do you think it's funny to test me when I haven't decided to forgive you yet?"

But the irresistible thought of riling her up enough to open the cabinet upstairs comes to mind, and I nod my head as I lick her palm in defiance. I've missed her assortment of playthings and the sting of her cruelty on my flesh. I'm growing bored of vanilla, and it's time we turn up the heat before she gets me off. Something I've been bargaining on to mark the end of a rather long and irritable day.

Instead, she releases the pressure, but her flared nostrils betray her annoyance. "Don't be bratty or top from the bottom with me."

"But I want you to play with me," I plead before stealing a kiss from her pouting lips. "I'm not afraid anymore, so nothing is stopping you from tying me up and punishing me with your wicked toys. Destroy me."

"Well, I'm not ready yet," she sighs with frustration, flashing a glance at my neck. "I keep remembering your lifeless body, and I keep... My chest and throat get tight. I can barely sleep!"

I hug her as tears roll down her face, but I'm almost relieved at the guilt finally spilling out rather than remaining unsaid. I'd been shaken when I witnessed that side of her, but losing control must have startled her, too. "Shh, I'm here, okay? I know it was only a mistake, and we need to learn how to move on from this. Beating ourselves up over what happened won't help us. I love you, and that hasn't changed because of a little mishap. We'll take it slow, I shouldn't have rushed you-"

As fast as our quarrel had begun, it's wordlessly over with Charlotte kissing me passionately, her arms curled around my neck, reigniting the dampening fire within me. My lips are upon her tear-stained cheeks, then swollen, mascara-streaked eyelids as I lift her in my embrace and love her until the sound of our bodies pounding together dominates the light moans and grunts filling my ears. Neither of us knows what tomorrow will bring, but I want the memory of how I made her feel tonight to live with her always, just as much as the scars I bear will stay with me.

Eternally, in my heart and soul, that remains forever changed. 

-----

I wake to each of my limbs chained to Charlotte's bedposts and her sitting over my lap with a triumphant grin. I vaguely remember fucking our way up the stairs before showering. Still, it almost seemed like a wonderous fever-night dream than two ill-fated lovers getting another chance to be together.

This also gives me an awful sense of deja vu.

"Last night wasn't enough for me," she says simply as she strokes my fringe away from my face with the bed creaking precariously beneath us. A golden key to the padlock dangles from a necklace between her breasts, and her purple strap-on bounces gently while she rides my morning wood. "I'm not handing you over to your family yet. In fact, we should elope this winter. As long as I still get my huge black dress, and you are bound to me forever in unholy matrimony, then no one else needs to know."

I smile up at her, envisioning a stunning gothic bride cruelly making love to me while I lay naked and shivering in the snow. Our engagement may have been a short-lived, mistimed mistake on my part, but it's my best option to prove my dedication and keep Charlotte waiting for my return to her. A lot can change in four months. "Then I promise this Christmas will be one to remember, baby."

Abruptly, she stops. "Did you know I'm really good at reading people? Let me see your hand so I can judge our future together."

I'm sceptical as she uncurls my bound hand, then studies it, caressing over my fingers and palm. I should have figured as much from the zodiac tapestry and crystals over every goddamn surface of her house. Still, I assumed it was only for the aesthetic. "Palmistry? Don't tell me you believe in this stuff-"

"Water... You're in tune with your feelings. Much more sensitive than you try to let on..." she says, remaining serious even as she turns my palm over. "You're creative. Turbulent past relationships... Impulsive, hmm."

"Impulsive?" The snigger is unintentional, and I half expect a chastisement, although her implements remain securely locked. Still, she ignores me and runs her fingertips over the creases like a map of my life. All of this she knows from our time together. My fingers are calloused from years of playing guitar, and my love of singing is evident whenever I shower. I'm almost certain I've discussed the majority of my breakups, but I continue to listen to her husky, hushed voice as she leans to look at my other hand. "And what else do you know about me?"

Her dark brown eyes warm as they search mine with our noses almost touching. I lick my lips, hinting at a kiss. "You're troubled by your thoughts and want to feel like you belong. A mummy's boy because you feel your daddy didn't love you enough. Strict but family-orientated upbringing, possibly Italian? On your mother's side."

I'm disturbed by her psychoanalysis, but I quickly brush it away as I clench my hand, preferring not to discuss it. Becka must have gossiped about something she shouldn't have heard from Justin. "Oops, so close! But actually, my Nanna was from Malta on my father's side. Now kiss me and make love to me, you sadistic tormentor, before I curse you off with my safeword."

"Didn't I say you talk too much, Toy? Let's fix that. Stick out your tongue," she says, her eyes glowering with danger as she flashes me a forced smile. Usually, I wouldn't dare hesitate, but I only poke my tongue out partially with apprehension while she lays out her piercing equipment box, pulls on latex gloves, and then removes the vernier calliper. "More. I need to inspect your anatomy first."

"Uhh, like this?" I say in a garbled jumble.

"Yeah. Now, stay still," she murmurs, appearing thoroughly professional as she brings the clamp to my marked tongue. "This shouldn't hurt too bad. Breathe on the count of three..." As expected, she passes the cannula through immediately, forgoing the countdown, then replaces it with a bar. Still, the pinch is less than my previous experience with my nipples and frenulum. The swelling, on the other hand, I dread to think about. "You'll need to rinse after eating with salted water, okay? Also, avoid spicy food, or you'll regret it."

She puts her box aside, and we're about to get back to it, with Charlotte releasing my hands, when we're disturbed by her phone on the cabinet obnoxiously ringing out to Murderdoll's Dead in Hollywood. Without dismounting from my lap, she leans over to answer it, smothering my face with her delightful tits that agonisingly I can no longer kiss. "Oh, it's for you."

"Why the hell am I having to lie to your dad about your whereabouts at 10 a.m.?" Justin yells at me as she places it to my ear. "And, of course, you're shagging her again. I fucking knew it! Becka called me paranoid, but here you are on the end of her phone. You're un-fucking-believable..."

My tongue already feels so sore and peculiar that I almost stumble with my words, "You're seriously interrupting my fun over something like-" My attention is drawn to my Mistress squeezing a dollop of silicone gel into her palm, then over the length of her imposing cock as she sits between my legs. The last thing I need is him hearing me get shafted the first time. "Yo, I've gotta go."

He resumes screeching at me, not taking my hint to hang up as she slips in a toy, "Are you insane? Louise has been discharged, and she's moving into your house right now! I'll come get you. I've got your dad on his way to drag you home, and you're half an hour away, balls-deep in-"

"You're kidding me? Why would she do something like that- Why would my father?" I bolt upright, just applied lube and butt plug popping from my sphincter onto the bed sheet as I instantly snatch up my socks. "Shit! Where the fuck are my shoes."

Charlotte gestures with confusion as I run around like a madman. "Don't tell me it's the brat..."

The brat? I can hear Justin continue to berate me on the phone so I don't confront the remark. "It's my dad. I've something to take care of-"

She throws herself back on her sumptuous silk pillows, dismissively lighting a cigarette. She wouldn't be so cool and collected if she knew what was happening behind her back. "Then, I'll pick you up when you've finished and bring you back to mine. We'll continue where we left off over a bottle of wine."

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea tonight, and I've got work again," I reply, nuzzling her mussed-up hair. She cannot find out about this until I know precisely what is happening. "Message me later, and we'll sort something out."

-----

It's worse than I feared. The moment I step through the door and see the piles of boxes of baby equipment and furniture against the wall, I realise the enormity of my situation. Decisions have been made without me, leaving my future with Charlotte more uncertain than ever.

"Dad? What's the meaning of this... I had this all delivered to Louise's house-" I pause as Louise comes to the door wearing fluffy pink slippers and a dressing gown, towelling her damp hair dry. Somehow, I feel like a dirtbag sneaking back home from an affair, but in this case, I'm definitely only dating Charlotte. "What's going on?"

"So you've finally dragged your way back from whatever bed you've crawled out of. Why doesn't that surprise me?" Her arms fold across her chest, and she shoots me a withering look. I haven't even had the chance to shower, and the acrid scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke emanates thick from my clothing. "You sound weird."

"Yet here you are attempting to crawl back into mine-"

This time, she doesn't hesitate to slap me, the resounding smack startling in its force. Those fierce green eyes flash again before welling up. "Do you care so little about Rebekah that you'd have us thrown onto the street? This was the only place we could go, and your dad kindly welcomed us into his home. Now, until you can pay for the roof also over your head, you have no right to tell us where we can and cannot stay."

My teeth grit. Clearly, she's repeating exactly what my father's told her, but I'm not prepared to back down. This is my life on the line. It's not like I've been unreasonable by wanting to support her at a distance, although I have the full intention of helping to raise Rebekah. "Fine, then I'll move out. I'd rather be anywhere than near you."

"You do that, but if I find out you're fucking her, then you won't see either me or your daughter again," she says with a self-satisfied, smug grin. "And I have your father's blessing to enforce it." 

Fuck! I'd thought Louise regretted how our relationship had ended and wanted to repair the damage for our kid's sake, but I'm undoubtedly wasting time trying to convince her. I flick my attention behind her towards the stairs. "He's up there, isn't he? Dad!"

I'm gunning for a fight, ready to cuss him out and throw a punch if I have to, but I stop short in the doorway of the spare room as I watch him cooing over his first grandkid. It's bizarre seeing my father, a man who's never been the model dad, acting like the doting grandfather. But it's a welcome change, and for the first time, I feel like I've almost done something right in his eyes.

"I figured that was you making a fuss," he says, his eyes almost appearing to twinkle like some sappy idiot. It's probably the same way I've been while staring at her tiny face. "I've never told anyone before, but I always wanted a daughter with your mother, although she wouldn't let us have anymore. You were too much of a terror that she worried how she'd have the time. But I'm glad I have a granddaughter, at least."

I can't take my eyes off him; the marked change is startling, leaving me speechless. Everything that transpired downstairs fizzles away.

"She looks so much like her mama, don't you think, Matthew?" he says, noticing my reluctance to talk. "Lovely girl. Intelligent, speaks well, beautiful and strangely wants to be with you after what you said to her. You understand you're punching well above your weight with her, right?"

I won't comment on Rebekah's features, but I still roll my eyes, knowing exactly what he's doing. Anyone can see that Rebekah takes more after me than Louise. "But, I don't love her, dad. Sure, she seems nice to you, but you don't know the real her. She's... mean. And manipulative. A-And she's... I don't like how she's talking to you behind my back."

He zeroes in towards my mouth, then lowers his voice to a hiss, "You've done something stupid, haven't you? I can smell the perfume from here. I swear if I catch you sneaking out to that woman again, I won't fight your corner when Louise finds out. Do you understand me? Right now, the best thing you can do is buck your ideas up and get her up that altar before she sees sense. Someone else will snatch her from you-"

"Just like you did with mum? No thanks... The thought of living like that with someone I don't love sickens me," I scoff with disdain. "You didn't even stop cheating on her when she was on hospice-"

"Do you honestly think that I didn't love your mum? It was your mother who didn't love me and told me to not come home..." He stops himself before speaking too ill of her, pain flashing over his face as he holds back. "You're lucky to have someone prepared to overlook all your faults and forgive when you mess up. All I want is for you to give her a chance. It's the least you can do after she stood up to her parents like that."

"What do you mean? Her parents haven't even bothered-"

"They've been calling and texting her. I saw the messages. Then they turned up this morning while she was being discharged and tried dragging her home. She refused to stop you seeing Rebekah, so they kicked her out. Moving her here was the right thing to do."

Guilt collides in my stomach at the hurtful things I've said. As much as I don't want to admit it, it was the only thing to do. Charlotte won't be happy, and I truly fear her reaction when I explain it, but Louise is right. Our kid does come first. My best option is to work my arse off and set her up somewhere else eventually. As quickly as I riled up, I back down to him. "Nah, you're right, Dad. I'll shower, then get started on putting together the furniture."

My father lays his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Good lad. I knew you'd realise it makes sense."