Complete Me

Meredith and Paolo are adapting to their new-found roles as Dominant and submissive. Yet, despite their rekindled passion, everyday life must go on. How will they maintain their new roles long-term? Will people notice her submission to him? Will anyone ever find out she willingly lies over his lap for a spanking?

At the heart of it all, she longs to trust him. And when Meredith finds herself terrified for her own safety, she knows there is only one person who will make her feel truly safe.

This is the third and final book in the Bound to You trilogy.

DISCLAIMER:  This book contains the spanking of adult women and sexual scenes. If these offend you, please do not purchase.

*** Currently Available Exclusively on Amazon ***

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Sample Chapter

Meredith filled the large, cut-glass pitcher with ice-cold lemonade. She wiped the perspiration off the sides, nervously biting her lip, and was so wound up she jumped a mile when she felt Paolo come up behind her and rest his hand on the small of her back. She turned, almost tripped over his wheelchair and somehow managed to snag the pitcher with a finger and send it crashing away from her to the floor. It shattered, shards of glass ricocheting off the cupboards and splashes of sugary lemonade drenching the floor and cabinets. She stared, open-mouthed at Paolo, who stared back at her. His eyes crinkled and he chuckled, a deep chuckle Meredith felt in her belly, as he curled a finger around the loop in her capris and pulled her away from the mess and onto his lap.

She felt the desire to scream, or yell, as the anger at having spilled the lemonade wreaked havoc on her already-frayed nerves. But she knew he wouldn’t tolerate it. No, no temper allowed. Instead, she focused on taking a deep breath as he held her on his lap.

“So nervous, baby,” he said. He deftly wheeled back and held her close, adjusting her so that she was in his lap, legs hanging over the edge. She’d learned not to protest about squashing him when he did this. It would only earn her a swat and a growl. She’d started making herself see herself from Paolo’s point of view, and it gave her more self-confidence.

Precious. Beautiful. Cherished.

Being the absolutely most important person in someone else’s life did something to a woman. It made her hold her head higher. She went to bed at night tucked into his side, with the certain knowledge that she was his alone, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

He fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head away from the mess and over to him, his lips so close they tickled her ear.

“Leave it. I’ll get it.”

She still felt that resistance, the initial desire to tell him no, she’d get it, he was in a wheelchair for crying out loud, but she was easily able to restrain the instinct to contradict him and trust that he could do this. He wouldn’t offer if he couldn’t. She needed to trust that. And anyway, between the work he’d been doing with Robbie the past few weeks, and physical therapy, Paolo was becoming more and more agile. He could handle the clean up. And he wouldn’t tolerate her talking back.

So she took what he gave her, permission to forget about the mess and trust him. She nodded her thanks. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Of course, honey,” he said soothingly, his hand stroking her hair. “Now tell me. Tell me why you’re so nervous. You’ve been flitting around here all day like a little butterfly, barely stopping to rest for a minute and you’re doing that thing where you bite your lip and walk into a room and spin around like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

She felt a twinge of irritation. Why was she nervous? Didn’t he know they were having company? Her brother Robbie and his new girlfriend, as well as their friends Caleb and Kirstin were coming for a barbecue. It would be the first time they had guests over to their house since their new—arrangement—and it made Meredith nervous as all hell. They’d had free rein of their house, and in the past few months, things had changed quite a bit.

He never allowed her to wear anything to bed at night anymore, and, at first, it felt weird even though they were in their own house with the bathroom right close by, and she could quickly scoot in to shower or get ready for bed. She’d gotten used to it, though, and he’d shown her there was a delicious method to his madness. It almost began to feel natural. But being more free with herself, growing accustomed to her own skin with no hiding behind bulky clothes, made her feel like her home was her sanctuary. It was the one place she was open, vulnerable, and completely bared to him.

But there was more to it than that. Yes, he’d demanded her complete obedience, and yes, it was becoming almost intuitive, though Meredith was still learning. Her online friend Little Lady, an experienced submissive, assured her in their long, late-night chats that it would take time and practice to make obeying Paolo a habit. Despite the fact that she wanted his leadership—despite the fact she needed it—she still fought the temptation to defy, irritation bubbling up when his bossiness grated on her, and her mouth would have a mind of its own. And there were new rules as she gradually became accustomed to obeying him. Slowly, he amped up his expectations for her.

And hell, was he ever fulfilling her need to be spanked.

He’d taken her over his knee in the den, for a fabricated misdemeanor when she’d teasingly cheered for the other team during a baseball game, but that was one of the hottest spankings she’d ever gotten. Stronger from having worked with Robbie, Paolo easily overpowered her as he held her over his lap and spanked her with his hand. The next thing she knew they were having wild, crazy sex on the couch. Phew. Yeah, that was fun.

But it hadn’t all been fun. One night during dinner, she’d let a pot of pasta boil over, reached to take it off the stove and forgotten to grab a potholder first, scalding her hand. She’d screamed, “Fucking hell!” so loud they’d have heard her in Canada, and she’d already been told that he wasn’t going to tolerate swearing anymore. He’d been sitting behind her, and when she turned to face him with a sheepish raise of her brows, he reached wordlessly for her hand and examined it, kissing the red spot that was only red but not burned. He’d released her hand, and unbuckled his belt.

It made her quake—she truly did dislike letting him down and earning a punishment—but she couldn’t deny that his stern eyes on her as he pulled his belt from the loops of his pants was arousing. At least later, when she remembered it, when she was lying in bed or watching him dress, or listening to his deep voice as he talked to Robbie, or chuckled over a TV show, she couldn’t help but be attracted to his sternness. God, he’s hot, she’d think, and it would set her heart to pounding all over again, remembering his hands on his belt, the sight of it doubled up in the harnessed power of his hands, and the way he’d made her lean over the kitchen counter and take a spanking for swearing.

One time, she’d come home late from shopping, because on the way home she’d hit an intersection with construction. She’d pulled into the driveway like a bat out of hell, and he’d been waiting in the living room for her. He didn’t say a word, waited until she came in the door, pointed to her bag and coat for her to drop them where she stood, and hauled her over his lap for a sound spanking. It wasn’t because she was late—he said later construction couldn’t be helped and she should’ve called—but he’d seen the way she’d pulled into the driveway and was none too happy about it.

And the sex. God, the sex.

They’d had sex in every which way, all over the house, sometimes multiple times a day. She’d joked with him that she didn’t know he could get it up like that at his age, which had earned her another trip over his knee, while she shrieked and laughed and he spanked her ass soundly, but that had led to even more sex and, as he took her, he growled out, “Is that good enough for you for an old man?”

“Yes,” she’d managed to pant.

And now… now, for the first time since she’d begun to obey him and agreed to allow him to discipline her—for the first time since she started deferring to him with a “yes, sir,”—they were having company. Robbie had come over when she was mostly at work, but this was different.

Having guests over felt like an invasion of their space. An invasion of their privacy. But Paolo had insisted she ask everyone over. With a twinkle in his eye, he’d said, “It’s time you learn how to behave when we have people over here,” and she knew he was only partly teasing.

But what would happen if she did something… disrespectful? If her mouth got the better of her, which it would do, and he decided he would punish her? She actually asked him what he’d do, and he merely shrugged, frowned at her and said, “If I were you, I would behave myself.”


Would he keep his bossiness discreet?

“I am nervous,” she whispered. “It feels… somehow unwelcome.”

“What seems unwelcome, bonita?” he asked softly. “Tell me.”

She rested her head in the crook of his neck and felt his strength around her, the warmth of his skin under her cheek, and she rested in the certain knowledge that he’d not only recognized her nervousness, but had stopped everything to help her address it.

“This is our place,” she whispered. “No one else’s. No one’s come over here since we started… all this. And I feel like I’m mostly myself… like we’re mostly us when we’re here, alone. When I can say “yes, sir,” without censoring myself. When you can pull me over your lap whenever you please. When you can tell me what to do without having to care about what others think.”

His eyes still twinkled.

“Do you think just because we have others over here I’m not going to tell you what to do? Do you really think I care what others think?”

The prickle of anger twisted in her chest and she stiffened. “That’s what I’m afraid of, too,” she said, an edge in her voice. For crying out loud! He didn’t care what others thought, but maybe she did! “I don’t know if I like the idea of being bossed around by you in front of my friend or brother, and certainly not some stranger I’ve never met.” She tried to sit up, but he pulled her quickly back down.

“Careful, Meredith,” he warned. She could see it in his eyes—the warning to behave, his voice low and stern, and she knew she’d better behave or she’d suffer the consequences.

She relaxed into his arms and nodded. “Yes, sir,” she murmured.

“I’m teasing you, baby,” he said. “I don’t really give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks of me, that much is true,” he said. “But I am not going to flaunt what we have for just anyone to see or hear. I’m not going to embarrass you, or do anything that would cause concern. You don’t need to worry about that. At the same time, there’s no hiding that I’m the boss and you do what you’re told.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Well, it might be a little weird in front of the other two, but I think you’re right.”

She thought about it. Kirstin and Robbie well knew Paolo was always forthright with his requests. He had always been the guy in charge—intrinsically protective, a natural leader. Meredith had even noticed that when Paolo and Robbie worked together, Robbie jokingly called Paolo “the boss.” Paolo’s take-charge nature was partly why she’d been drawn to him in the first place.

“You want the board over here, boss?” Robbie would say, and Paolo would instruct him. Robbie was good-natured about it. Hell, they’d been friends from high school and Robbie knew exactly Paolo’s personality-type. And so did Kirstin. She’d even mentioned him “still being all protective and macho,” and when she’d asked if Meredith wanted to go out for drinks, Kirstin actually said, “ask Paolo.”

Paolo continued. “And I’m not going to spank you in front of them.” Meredith tucked her head, embarrassed. It was still embarrassing and tingly to hear him say spank. “Spanking your ass in front of other people would be like you going down on me in front of a crowded room.” He looked thoughtful. “Not that that doesn’t appeal, on a certain level.”


He chuckled. “Teasing, babe. Mostly,” he said.

She felt heat flush her cheeks. Oh, how embarrassing. In the past month, he’d been giving her lessons, making her practice. She’s always had an aversion to doing that, and her suspicions that the rugs purchased for their bedroom were for more than when he insisted she kneel were true. He wanted her on her knees for more than one reason. She’d gotten over her shyness, and was pretty proud of herself that she’d gotten really good at pleasing him.

“This is private, Meredith,” he said. “Personal. And I’m going to do everything I can to keep it private and personal. At least the discipline part of it.”

She nodded.

“Though I’ll tell you this,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with a teasing swat, and I’m not going to promise I won’t give you one. But if you do something naughty, we will make a trip to the bedroom.” She squirmed. She couldn’t help it. Naughty and trip to the bedroom got her all hot and bothered, even if what he was saying made her squirm.

“If you need to be punished, I’ll decide if we take a discreet trip to the bedroom with guests over, or I make you wait until they all go home. The rules don’t change because we have company.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, at once both grateful and apprehensive. Grateful that he understood her desire for discretion, and promised he’d be careful, but apprehensive because sometimes she misbehaved without meaning to. She’d better watch it.

“Meredith,” he said sternly.

“Yes?” she asked, lifting her eyes to his.

“You focus on doing what I say, and everything will be just fine. We’re going to have a great time. And tonight, after everyone goes home and you want to veg, if you behave yourself, I’ll let you go chat with Little Lady. Okay?”

She smiled. It had been a while and she missed her friend. “Okay.”

She jumped when the doorbell rang. He gently pushed her off his lap to standing.

“Go get the doorbell while I clean this up,” he said. She yelped when she felt him send her off with a sharp swat to her ass. Going to open the door, she left him in the kitchen chuckling to himself. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself before she opened the door, feeling the slight flush of her cheeks.

“Better make sure these are the only cheeks burning hot today,” she thought to herself, giggling all the way.

Yes, Paolo being Meredith’s dominant, and Meredith his submissive, was still new. They were learning their roles, and incorporating discipline and structure into their relationship, both in and out of the bedroom. But this was the man she’d been with for decades. The man she’d raised a child with. Though he was her dominant now, he was still her lover, and her best friend.

The visit would work out fine.


Paolo sat back in his chair, taking a long pull from the beer Caleb brought. Shit, this stuff was good. Paolo made note of one particular brand, which Caleb said he was destined to try because it was called Omnipollo.

“Sounds like the omnipotent Paolo,” Kirstin joked, her green eyes shining at him, her red hair piled atop her head and making her look young and coy.

“I’ll take it,” Paolo said, amidst laughter, as Caleb popped the top and gave it to him. Caleb was a few years younger than Paolo, dark-skinned and handsome, with dark brown eyes, short hair and a well-kept beard. He’d brought Kirstin to their house on the back of his Harley, both of them sporting leather jackets and wind-whipped cheeks when they arrived. Caleb had opened a backpack cooler he’d been wearing which was filled with imported beer Paolo had never even heard of. Paolo already liked him because he treated Meredith’s friend Kirstin so well. The backpack of imported brew sealed the deal.

Paolo’s eyes rolled back in his head as he took a swig from a brew Caleb told him he had to have.

“Where’s this from again?” Paolo asked.

“Sweden,” Caleb said. “These guys know what they’re doing, and there’s a local vendor near me who only sells specialty brews. He gives this to me at wholesale.”

Paolo had nodded to Meredith. “Babe, you get the info from Kirstin.”

She nodded with a smile. “I’m on it.”

He’d given her subtle instructions here and there, and she’d behaved beautifully.

Caleb took a swig himself, clearly pleased that someone appreciated the stuff as much as he did. Paolo enjoyed talking to Caleb, and liked the fact that he could carry on a conversation about football as easily as he could discuss the cabinetry work Robbie and Paolo had been working on. Caleb had a friend back in California who was a carpenter, and he’d helped him do odd jobs here and there to pad his income.

But what Paolo watched more keenly—unbeknownst to Caleb—was how he treated Kirstin. You could tell a lot about a man with the way he treated his woman, and it mattered to Paolo how Caleb treated Kirstin, because Kirstin was tight with Meredith. And from what Paolo could see, Caleb was a good man. He held Kirstin’s hand, and when he asked her to get him something from the cooler, he rested his hand on her lower back and asked her politely. These two were into each other. Paolo could tell by the way they looked at each other, and how they spoke to each other with respect, they had a clear camaraderie. Shit, this guy was way better to hang with than her asshole ex.

Meredith’s brother Robbie reached for a beer, and Caleb gladly passed one over.

“You all ready for dessert?” Meredith asked, rising to her feet. She’d made a strawberry shortcake topped with billowy whipped cream that Paolo was dying for, Kirstin had brought cupcakes from the local bakery, and Robbie’s girlfriend—a quiet, but sweet, petite little woman named Cindy—had brought a tray of brownies topped with walnuts and chocolate chips. Hell, yeah, he was ready for dessert. Cindy stood.

“Sounds perfect, baby,” Paolo said, as he wheeled away from the patio table and gestured for her to come over to him, while the others resumed the conversation.

Meredith obediently leaned over and put her ear next to Paolo’s mouth.

“You’re being a good girl today,” he said, and her eyes lowered, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Thank you,” she said. “I think this is going really well. I see you’re bossing everyone around and not just me,” she teased.

“Naturally,” he quipped with a chuckle. “Everyone’s having a blast. And I love that you’re behaving yourself so well. You’ll be rewarded for this tonight, baby,” he said. “I’ll show you what happens to good girls who do as they’re told.” Her eyes flitted to the group. Paolo smiled. Meredith could be such a prude sometimes, and there was no possible way anyone could’ve heard. But he’d turned her on. He could tell by the slight flush of her cheeks and the way she shifted her feet. He loved that he could do that to her with merely a whispered promise.

“I’d like that,” she whispered back.

He was tempted to give her a teasing swat, but he’d go easy on her. Instead, he rested his hand just below her lower back and gave a low instruction. “Go get dessert, honey. But when you come back, you serve me first. I want a good portion of strawberry shortcake. Got it?”

She nodded, smiled, whispered “yes, sir” in his ear, and went off to the kitchen.

It wasn’t so much that he was keen on being served first, so much as he wanted to keep an even keel, make sure she remembered her place and who she obeyed. Even though she resisted—even though at times it was fucking hard, and she pushed back—he knew she needed him to be stern. She thrived on his dominance, yearned to be told what to do, and the fight within her, learning to control her own temper, her own will, and learning to allow herself to be led, was part of what made the power exchange beautiful. If it had been easy, he wouldn’t take so much pleasure in seeing her nod her head with a whispered “yes, sir” or watching her lower herself over his lap to be corrected. Welcoming his instruction and presenting herself to him to be led was beautiful to him.

Exchange of power. It wasn’t about him taking the lead. It was about her granting it to him. It was the challenge in it that Paolo rode. It was seeing the struggle within her, the way she fought and railed against him sometimes, and then seeing her yield despite the temptation to resist, that turned him on. When she’d sworn in the kitchen, it was all he could do to maintain his composure, remain stern and in control of himself as he administered her punishment, instead of taking her right then and there. Her immediate flare of anger, the shame in her eyes when she turned to face him, the way she swallowed when his hands went to his buckle. And hell, but the way she yelped and squirmed and reddened as he spanked her made him hard. It was an exchange.

The way she gave that to him made him feel like a fucking king. Seeing her tucked into his side at night, knowing that he was meeting her needs in spades fueled him to continue, her need to be protected and led dovetailing perfectly with his innate need to protect and lead. It felt right, and natural, to lead her like this. And though at times it was difficult, he was up for the challenge.

When he returned to the table, Cindy was telling Caleb and Kirstin about a live cooking battle she’d seen filmed in a diner down the street from her house, but Robbie was leaning back in his chair, taking it all in, a beer pressed up to his lips, and his eyes on Paolo. Paolo knew, just by the way Robbie was looking at him, that he’d witnessed the exchange with Meredith.

“You’re good to her,” Robbie said. Paolo looked at him in surprise. Decades of marriage to Robbie’s sister, and never had they talked about their relationship. It was just something that was understood; Paolo was Robbie’s friend, and had been since high school. When Paolo first met Meredith, he was working on her mama’s front porch and she’d sit curled up nearby, supposedly reading a book. But he knew she rarely turned the page. He’d talk to her, about home, and family, and he found her a ready companion. She was easy to talk to, funny, and sweet, and she was gorgeous. Paolo had asked Robbie before he asked Meredith out on a date, and at first, Robbie had been wary but approving. Best man at the wedding, godfather to their son, and he’d seen it all. The lean years early on. The accident. Paolo’s retreat.

After the accident, when Paolo had been injured and wheelchair bound, he’d pulled back from everyone in his life—his friends, including Robbie, and most especially Meredith. Losing the ability to walk was a devastating loss and he retreated from the world.

Robbie had never said a word to Paolo. Not one word. He’d come over and coax him into going out, grabbing a burger, or ask him for advice on a new project he was working on. And even then, Robbie did not talk about Meredith and Paolo. Their marriage was sacred ground. They both knew he felt that way, and were thankful he respected that.

Robbie’s eyes were distant, looking over Paolo’s shoulder. His voice low to maintain the privacy of the conversation, as he continued.

“That was hard on her, Paolo. I know it was. The whole thing. Not just the accident and thinking she would lose you, but all the changes that happened after. Killed me to see you two pushed apart like that.” Paolo took another swig of his beer and said nothing, but he listened. He’d known how that shit had driven them apart, and he also knew Robbie had a right to say his piece.

“Don’t know what’s changed,” Robbie said quietly. “All I’ve got to say is, it’s good. Whatever you’re doing, it’s good.” His eyes met Paolo’s. “She’s happy again,” he said, low enough only Paolo could hear. “And so are you.”

Paolo gave a curt nod. They said no more. But he heard it, in the tone of his voice and what he said, Paolo heard the implied meaning. You’ve made things better again. Keep doing what you’re doing. Take care of her.

He would. Until the day he stopped drawing breath, he would.


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