Page 43 of Obedience

After a few silent moments Dylan drew in a long breath. ‘I thought this would never happen,’ she said softly.

‘I’m sorry. I— ’

‘Woah! In the name of our Lord and Saviour Moira Rose, do not, for the love of fuck, finish that sentence.’

Greta laughed, moving onto her bent elbow. ‘If you don’t want to hear me apologise for the way I have treated you, that’s fine,’ she said, her grin widening.

‘I actually don’t, Greta,’ Dylan said adamantly, rolling onto her back. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing we did as Margot and fucking Remi is relevant. None of it.’ Sensing Dylan’s tense tone, Greta moved her hand to her belly, running it up and over her chest. Dylan held her arm out to pull Greta in, who nuzzled into her neck and possessively draped a leg over her thighs. ‘I am so far removed from Remi it’s actually hilarious. I deserved an Oscar for faking it with all my other clients and after all the Edging-with-Margot: Femdomme Fridays I had to endure…’ She billowed her cheeks, allowing the air to bleed out slowly. ‘Well, they need to name some parks and hospitals after me because Jesus Christ!’ Greta’s head bobbed on Dylan’s chest as they both laughed aloud. ‘And as for Margot, well— ’

‘Careful,’ Greta warned with a playful tap to Dylan’s belly.

Dylan laughed, squeezing her softly. ‘Wellll,’ she said, drawing out the word, her voice light. ‘I was going to say she was a bit of a bitch, but I best not, eh?’

Greta raised her head to snag Dylan’s gaze. ‘No, you best not, eh?,’ she said, teasingly mocking the way Dylan’s thick Mancunian accent rounded the end of her sentence.

Dylan scanned Greta’s face, smiling as her gaze rested on Greta’s kiss-swollen lips. ‘These lips, Greta. You should be arrested and put on some kind of list for keeping them from me for so long. So very cruel.’ She placed a soft kiss on Greta’s mouth and gave her a gentle squeeze. ‘You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold you like this.’

‘I couldn’t allow myself to be held like this, Dylan…in case I started to crave it and it was taken away.’

Dylan pressed her mouth to the top of Greta’s head. ‘You can crave it now,’ she whispered softly. ‘I won’t take it away.’

Before Greta nuzzled back into Dylan’s neck, Dylan kissed the tip of her nose. The tenderness of the gesture took Greta aback. Pausing for a heartbeat she felt the joy flare in her chest, but the sudden, sharp buzz of a distant vibration pulled them both back into the room before she could fully grasp it.

‘What’s that?’ Dylan pondered. ‘Shit, is it your sex slave? You’re gonna have to fire her now, you know? This bed ain’t big enough for the both of us.’

Greta playfully tapped Dylan’s belly. ‘Yes, Dylan,’ she sighed with a theatrical eye roll. ‘It’s my sex slave, Brenda, ringing for more. Or perhaps she just wants help getting out of the swing I left her in. You go.’

They both laughed until Dylan grew tense. ‘Ahhh shit, that’s my phone,’ she said, her voice suddenly full of worry.

‘Leave it…they’ll ring back,’ Greta replied as she desperately tried to hold on to the moment.

‘I can’t, Greta,’ Dylan softly pushed her back and moved to get out of bed. ‘It’ll be Mum.’

Greta remained on her side, head propped on her hand, the sheet leaving her breasts exposed. She watched as Dylan found her boxers, hopping to pull them on while also trying to leave the room, laughing out loud as Dylan stumbled in the doorway.

‘Oh, absolutely charming, Doctor Vincent,’ Dylan threw over her shoulder with a wink.

As Dylan paced the hallway on her mobile, her voice dropped an octave. ‘No, no, don’t be daft, it’s fine. It can’t be helped,’ she said softly. ‘Yeah, no probs, I’ll be there in half an hour, tops.’

Greta’s newly bolstered and bursting heart sunk into her gut as Dylan slowly walked back into the bedroom, saying goodbye to the caller and scratching the back of her neck. Sidling up to Greta on the bed, Dylan looked at her regretfully with her head angled slightly, plump bottom lip jutting out.

‘You’ve got to go,’ Greta said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice and not jump to any conclusions. The main conclusion being that Dylan’s mum had called, and at twenty-eight years of age, she was about to go running home.

‘I do. I’m so sorry. I can—’

‘No. Don’t apologise. It’s fine.’

It wasn’t fine, but Greta had no right to feel the way she did. Dylan lay across the bed on her belly and kissed Greta.

‘I’ll ring you when I get home. I can explain. It’s just a lot to try and explain right now when I have to—’

‘You don’t owe me an explana—’

‘Don’t, Greta,’ Dylan said calmly. ‘Don’t do that. I can explain, and I will explain.’ She leaned in again, peppering the top of Greta’s arm with kisses before dramatically moaning into her skin. ‘Arrgh, I’ve got to go, I’m sorry.’ She raked her gaze over Greta and inhaled sharply while giving Greta a look that screamed loudly that she couldn’t stand to leave, before theatrically tearing herself away. ‘Answer my call in a bit okay?’ Greta looked at Dylan and cocked her head. ‘Okay?’ Dylan reiterated while shooting her a pointed look.

Greta finally smiled. ‘Okay.’

Chapter fourteen