Theirs (Possession #2)

1. Camila

1

Camila

T he moans coming from the computer were loud. The man who was tied down with a ball gag in his mouth had his eyes closed as a woman hit him with a rectangular item that had a handle on it. The masked woman, in a full latex suit, was smacking him across his back, ass and thighs. With every hit, he moaned louder and louder. Fuck.

“Come on, you filthy little whore, you piece of shit,” she snapped.

I quickly shut my laptop looking around my office, knowing I was alone, but my cheeks heated with embarrassment. Why did I think it was a good idea to watch this at work? I was curious and I couldn't wait to get home.

I want to be dominated.

My body shivered, remembering what my husband Luke had said this morning at our therapy session. He left me speechless when he said it.

I don’t want to make any choices, I want to be told what to do, and I want to give full control to Camila.

My heart raced as I wondered what that looked like and then I happened to be dumb enough to look up porn at the office. It was a turnoff to see the man tied up in leather (or was it latex?) with that ball gag in his mouth. Her strikes looked like they hurt and I couldn’t imagine that this was what Luke wanted.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at all. Luke had always said he loved when I rode his cock or even his face. He even suggested tying him down, but I dismissed it as him making a bad joke. What would Luke look like being tied up and gagged? I shivered at the image, not knowing how I felt about it.

I hadn’t been listening this entire time, so naturally, guilt hit me in the chest. How long had I been dismissing his needs? My lip quivered, hating that we had arrived at this point where I didn’t even know what my own husband wanted.

My phone rang and I fumbled to answer it.

“This is Camila,” I said, shaking off the last of my embarrassment.

Work thankfully kept me busy, forgetting about looking up more porn, even though it had made me more curious. So many new questions popped into my head as I worked. I wrote them down because I wanted to know more, just maybe not here at work while I talked to clients or worked on making clothes.

Our therapy sessions had been getting more and more intimate. Each time we went in I found out something new about my husband. I should have known these things, but the last five-ish years of our marriage had been rough, to say the least. We had lost ourselves in grief, anger and a whole lot of bad luck.

My last phone call ended which allowed me to pack up my work bag, turn off all the lights as I walked out of my design studio and locked up. I blinked back the tears that always threatened to fall when I thought about all that we had been through. It was a miracle we had survived, but in the end, it was all thanks to Luke. He fought to keep us together, and he was the one to suggest couple’ s therapy. I was ready to walk out because every time I looked at him, all of our heartache would come barreling towards me and I hated that this had become my life. It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t his fault, reality had kicked us in the ass and made sure we stayed down for a few years.

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the start of a headache come on. Grabbing my phone from my purse, I checked in on Luke before I went home. He had been relatively silent since his confession this morning, and if I knew Luke, he was probably worried that he had hurt me.

Me: Do you need anything before I head home?

Luke: Just you, beautiful.

My heart stuttered. Luke was a true southern man and could charm the pants off of anyone and I loved that he hadn’t lost it, even when we were at our worst.

Me: Ok, I’m on my way home.

Luke: If you're bringing some work home, I can pick you up.

Always so thoughtful.

Me: No, I’m only bringing my sketchbook.

Luke: Ok, enjoy your walk.

I took a deep breath and walked out into the cool September afternoon. I loved Denver in the fall. The colors were vibrant, the weather had grown chilly and I loved wearing my sweatshirts and leggings. I was definitely not a summer girl. Give me cool temps, a cinnamon latte with some comfy clothes, and I was a happy camper.

My office was only a few blocks from home, the promise of Fall made my walks so much better. It didn’t make sense to drive to work anyways, since I was so close, and it gave me some time to get my thoughts in order before I saw Luke.

Nerves bloomed in my chest as I walked up to our building. The doorman said hello, but all I could do was muster a nod, walking faster to the elevator doors that were about to close. I hit the number twenty-one when I entered, and it was the longest ride to our floor.

Why was I feeling so antsy? We should be able to talk about these things. We had been working on communicating properly but a part of me felt lost.

The elevator opened and I hesitated to get out; I was being ridiculous. Hitching my bag over my shoulder I walked straight to the door of our condo, and opened it to an amazing smell.

My stomach grumbled in response, then I realized I hadn’t eaten lunch. All I had was coffee and a granola bar with no water all day. Oops, now I knew why I had a headache.

“Honey, I’m home,” I said, walking through the door.

“Hey, Hermosa,” I heard Luke say from the kitchen.

Slipping off my shoes by the door, I put on my slippers before I made my way to him. The moment I saw Luke, my tension eased seeing him work so gracefully in the kitchen. Even at six-five, he made cooking look like an art.

He looked up at me, his cheeks a little pink, and I noticed there were a few sheets of cookies on the big island. I smiled hoping to ease his nerves.

“Um… how was your day,” he asked.

“It was good, and yours?” I walked around the island to hug him around his waist, even at five-eight he made me feel small.

His body relaxed into me.

“I shouldn’t have said that this morning,” he said, putting his hand over my own.

“We were being honest,” I said, leaning into him more. “When I said I wanted to meet somewhere and act like we didn’t know each other, I thought I was being adventurous, but you took the cake.”

I tried to lighten the situation, but it didn’t work.

“I think… we need to talk about it, even though I don’t want to,” he said, patting my hands. “Dinner should be ready in a few minutes.”

Dread sat heavy with me, my heart pounded faster. Was this it? The moment he told me this wasn’t what he wanted and he left me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded.

“Ok,” I managed to get out in a reasonable voice.

I kissed his back before letting go, walking to our bedroom to change. I switched my jeans and blouse for shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. It was Luke’s and I debated if it was a good idea to wear it if this might be it. Fuck it, he could pry this sweatshirt from my cold body if he wanted it back. It was from our university days; it held so many good memories with it.

I used the restroom, took off my jewelry, and put my hair up in a clip. If there was a possibility of us ending tonight, I think I needed something to take the edge off. I headed to the wine fridge and grabbed a bottle of Perrier Jouet. Champagne might be a weird choice, but dammit if I wasn’t going to drink something I loved while my heart was torn out.

Grabbing a few coupes, I headed into our breakfast nook. We always ate there when it was just us two, and I preferred it over our formal dining area. I opened the bottle with ease, pouring a drink for Luke and I as he brought our plates. It was crab and lobster linguine, which made my mouth water.

He went back into the kitchen and brought out a salad and waited for me to sit down. We stared at each other and I wished he would just spit out whatever he wanted to say.

“Come on, Hermosa, sit down,” Luke said.

His Spanish had gotten better over the years. The anxiety in me loosened as I realized he wouldn’t call me Hermosa for nothing. I sat down, stabbing the lettuce in my salad, getting a few bites in before I started drinking. I had a feeling I might need the whole bottle.

“Do you remember Vincent Barros?” Luke asked, in between bites.

“How could you forget that man?” I chuckled. “If I remember correctly, we ogled him at that charity dinner in New York, and when he came over to us, we basically turned into two teenage girls who couldn’t stop giggling.”

“We weren't that bad,” he chuckled.

“Oh, we were. I think your cheeks stayed pink the entire time we spoke to him. That man exuded confidence and sexuality, but yes, I remember him, and didn’t you say he was coming back to Denver?” I took a sip of my champagne.

“Yes, but this has to do with when we were going through a rough time. We stayed friends and I spent time in New York,” he said, putting his fork down.

My stomach tightened. “Did you sleep with him?”

“What?” He looked appalled. “No, we didn’t. I would not cheat on you.”

My shoulders sagged. “Then what happened?”

He took a deep breath. “One night, Vincent needed to meet with a potential client and he brought me along.”

“Okaaay,” I said, wondering where the hell this was going.

“It was a sex club and I apparently learned a lot about myself that night,” he said, looking down at his plate. “That's when I got my first look at Doms and Dominatrices. Vincent explained he was a part of the community.”

This is not how I had expected this conversation to go. I nodded for him to keep going.

“I didn’t plan on going, but when I went back to New York, I needed to go back,” he said, looking up at me, his brows furrowed, looking almost scared. “I watched a woman dominating a man and it has stayed with me ever since.”

“Did you do anything with someone?”

“No, Camila, I didn’t touch anyone,” he said quickly. “I just looked, and I know we’ve discussed strip clubs and how we were both fine with them. If you're upset, I completely understand, I just…”

“Why haven’t you said anything before?” I took another sip of my drink.

“I didn’t want to ruin the progress we had been making.” He grabbed his glass, swirling the liquid, but not drinking. “I honestly haven’t thought about it until Vincent called a few weeks ago. I didn’t mean to blurt that out at therapy, I don’t…”

“Hey, it’s ok,” I said, getting up from my chair to slide onto his lap. “I might have been mad if you had told me before we started therapy and you're probably right about not telling me before. I know we are in a much better place now than we were a year ago.”

I cupped his face, his soulful brown eyes still looked worried.

“I’m glad you told me, because if this is what you want, then maybe it's something we need to explore,” I said, running my hands through his hair.

He pulled back, studying my face. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean I didn’t look at porn for nothing,” I chuckled. “But no more secrets and we have to be honest with each other.”

“I can’t believe you looked at porn,” he chuckled.

“It was terrifying,” I shuddered.

“It’s probably all staged,” he said, cupping my face in his large hands.

“I hope that it was because it was slightly terrifying,” I said, running my hands through his hair.

“Thank you for taking this so well and not?—”

“If you can’t be honest with me, then we have a problem,” I said. “Keeping secrets hurt us before and I don’t want that to happen again.

Luke smiled and it felt like all was right in the world. He kissed me until I was breathless. I just hoped I wasn’t making an enormous mistake.