She sat curled up on the hard wooden floor between his feet. Her long slender legs were tucked underneath her on a plush red cushion as she softly ran her nails under the bottom of his jeans, trailing down his ankle and rhythmically stroking his bare foot. Her long brown hair lay like a flowing silk blanket over his lap as he gently tugged on it, absentmindedly curling the long tendrils around his fingers, watching with sleepy eyes as the soft strands bounced back to their straightened form. He leaned back in his overstuffed black leather chair as she rested her head against his thigh, closing her eyes for the briefest of moments and listening to the gentle tones of his voice as he spoke.
His American accent was thick and strong, enhancing his masculinity with each punctuated word. His deep compelling voice filled her senses to the point of bursting, although in her relaxed state of mind, in that perfect moment, she heard not a word that passed his lips. Her body was warm and comfortable, supported by his legs, the rough fabric of his jeans slightly coarse against her naked skin. She flicked her gaze from under long eyelashes briefly up into his and was met with a kind and loving smile. His clear blue eyes twinkled in the soft fiery light of the last rays of the sun which streamed through the crack in the curtains; the only source of illumination as the dusk of the evening settled in around them.
They had spent a delicious Saturday together, and as normal, on the occasions where they were gifted with some much needed time in each others company, she had been thoroughly spoiled. After waking late from a restful sleep, he had bound her wrists over her head with the soft velvet rope he kept permanently tied to the headboard of his bed, and he had taken her whilst she was still in the dream-like space between sleep and wake, allowing her to orgasm before the day had really even started. She had wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her thighs gripping his muscular body as her wrists strained against the bonds, begging and aching to touch him. His weight pinned her firmly to the mattress as he drove deeper and deeper inside her, kissing and biting down on her neck until he wrapped a large chunk of her hair in his strong hand and tugged harshly, sending her over the edge and finally giving her permission to release.
After they had showered and dressed, he took her to lunch at the little Italian restaurant around the corner from the house he had rented for the last three years, which purely accommodated his studies. He had been temporarily relocated to Michigan whilst he underwent his surgical residency at the Henry Ford Centre, and was now merely days from the end of his final term. The elation he felt from nearing the completion of his studies, and the blackness that clouded his heart with the knowledge that he would have to leave her, caused his stomach to churn each time he allowed the thought to wander through the echoes of his mind. He chose not to think about it, he couldn't bear these final days. They had made a pact, to look back on the last two years and remember that the universe had thrown them together for the reason of discovery.
They had met during one of his many moonlight shifts at the urgent care clinic. He had noticed her in the waiting area; a make-shift bandage fashioned from an old handkerchief was tied tightly around her ankle to prevent the blood from seeping. Her tear-stained face was full of emotional agony as her slender body demonstrated the familiar signs of physical abuse. He wandered over to her and stopped by her chair, lowering himself to his haunches as he cautiously took her hand in his.
"Are you okay?" he gently enquired as he looked up at her with genuine concern.
The eyes that met his gaze were full of sorrow, large brown-green pools of sadness that immediately captured his heart. Unlike many urgent care patients, he felt an attachment to her immediately. He strangely didn't feel sorry for her, even in her state of obvious distress, he just felt an innate need to instantly protect her, and so he had bumped her up the waiting list and ensured that he was the one to administer her care.
The first time she spoke, took him completely by surprise. Her accent was English; in fact, it was well-spoken English that laid testament to her obvious education and intelligence. As her story unfolded during the treatment, he felt himself captivated by her. She had only been in America for a few months, having been granted her working visa, and worked as a writer for an online magazine just a few blocks from his rented house in downtown Detroit.
England had been struck by the worst financial crisis in many years and she had found herself out of work, unable to pay the bills and unable to find alternative employment, so she had turned her online job search further a field. She couldn't believe her luck when the renowned magazine in Detroit had loved her submissions, and offered her a job in America, the land of opportunity. However, since she had been here, her sense of opportunity had long since dwindled, and now she found herself on a doctors table, in an urgent care clinic with no medical insurance.
As he patched her up, gingerly stitching the wound on her ankle, he asked her about her other injuries and whether she wanted further examination. He knew exactly what had happened to her, the signs were blatantly obvious but it was his duty to ask if she wanted the care and treatment, he knew better than to force additional care onto a young woman in this state of distress.
He gently reminded her that her attack should be reported to the police and offered to call them on her behalf but she vehemently shook her head and stopped talking, not speaking another word until he had finished.
"Thank you, Doctor" she muttered as she lowered herself from the table in his treatment room, cringing and hobbling as the foot that had sustained the injury touched the ground.
"You're very welcome... Miss..." he checked her notes, momentarily searching for her name on the paperwork.
"Elle...just call me Elle" she said, smiling thinly with shame and embarrassment as she stumbled to the door of the treatment room and gripped the handle, desperate to leave both the room and the hypnotic gaze of the handsome doctor far behind her.
"You're very welcome ... Elle" he responded "please take care of yourself and come back here to see me if those stitches give you any trouble."
He smiled warmly and opened the door for her, hoping with a little too much fervour, that he would see her again. Two of the best years of his life had now been spent with her and he wouldn't swap a single day for anything else in the world. Her name was one that he would never forget.
* * * *
Following lunch at the Italian restaurant, he squeezed her hand and with a devious glint in his eyes he led her to their favourite store.
"Toy time" he whispered mischievously, running his finger lightly around the silver choker that adorned her neck.
Her brown eyes were alive with excitement as they wandered around the shop, absorbing the sight and smell of soft leather, her fingers running over the suede tails of a purple flogger that was displayed by the entrance to the store. He was as confident and comfortable with their surroundings as he would be if they had just entered the grocery store, and yet she kept her eyes lowered from the assistant, a slight blush rising from her chest and flushing her pale skin.
He swiftly moved to the items he specifically wanted to purchase as she watched him, becoming aware of the moisture between her legs at the mere thought of their use on her tender flesh. He gripped a black leather flogger in his strong hand, giving the slightest flick of his wrist and sending a dull whistle resounding through the air as a wry smile crossed his handsome face. He turned and winked at her, beckoning her to him and for a horrifying moment she thought that he wanted to test his new toy, right there in the middle of the shop. She obeyed immediately and as she drew near he grabbed her and wrapped a hand lovingly around the back of her neck, pulling her into a deep, hungry kiss. They had stayed in the store for a while whilst he added several new items to his collection; the flogger, a new red leather crop, a pair of small black leather wrist restraints complete with D-rings and thick silver buckles, a pair of man-sized black leather gloves and something he had hidden in his bag that he told her was a surprise for later - a little to her disappointment.
She had pouted at not being able to see his new secret toy and he leaned in and whispered to her, "I, too, have my secrets princess, and you know how I hate to see you pout." His look and the tone of his voice was enough to stop her minor sulking immediately.
* * * *
The sharp tug on her hair brought her back from her daydreams, forcing her into a bolt upright position with her back straighter against his chair.
