Andrea has gone home, and I know she is well aware of the tension that I have created. She has no idea what she has done wrong, because it wasn't something she did. It was my ridiculous doubts and I have never felt more regret than I do at this moment.

I am insecure, and I am not good at communication in relationships, and she could have punished me for that today. My ex-husbands certainly would have, but Andrea didn't. Instead, she took steps to care for me and make me feel loved. How have I repaid her kindness? I have sent her home not only confused but most likely hurt and frustrated at my treatment of her.

My loathing for myself at this moment is unrivalled.

I trudge slowly up the stairs and check on the girls. To my surprise their cases are empty. The unused clothes have been put back in their closets and their dirty clothes are bundled carefully into their laundry bins. I make sure to praise them and tell them that I am proud of them, because this is a first for them. They have been far too reliant on their nanny until now, and I have been complacent in teaching them basic skills.

I say goodnight to them both, and then go and unpack my case, knowing I will be too tired to do it later. I take a quick shower, and change into my favourite silk pyjamas heading back downstairs to my study, with my phone and laptop.

I know I will be unable to sleep yet because the thought of laying in bed, without the woman I so desperately love makes my heart want to shatter. I pour myself a rather large measure of whisky and sit down to start replying to my emails.

There are so many, that I know it will keep me busy until I am dropping with exhaustion, hopefully. At that point, I will pull the throw off of the back of the sofa, and sleep here, in an attempt not to miss Andrea quite so much.

I have been working for about an hour when my phone buzzes, and I see that it is a message. I unlock the screen.

Andrea: "Are you still awake?"

I reply instantly.

Miranda: "Yes. Are you ok?"

Andrea: "Can you open the door? I don't want to disturb the girls. I've got my key, but you've probably got the chain on already?"

Open the door? She's here? I feel my heart thudding in my chest as I get up and unsteadily make my way downstairs, realising I have probably had more whisky than I intended.

I almost run across the foyer, and my hands are shaking as I unchain the door and turn the lock. Pulling it open, my eyes are blurry with tears, as strong arms wrap around me and lift me off of my feet.

I hear the giggle that comes out of my mouth as she kicks the bag she had placed on the floor through the door and I am carried in far enough for her to shut the door with her foot. She puts me down and kisses me deeply, and I can feel the love pouring from her lips to mine.

She ends the kiss, and lifts a hand to my face, to move the forelock out of my eyes, "can I stay tonight?"

"You can stay forever," I tell her sincerely, reaching for her and kissing her again.

"I like the sound of that," she laughs, picking me up again and spinning me around.

"Put me down," I scold her playfully, and she does, but she doesn't release me.

"I think we have a few things to talk about, don't you?" she asks, one eyebrow raised in a perfect imitation of my signature expression.

"Yes, Andrea," I reply, in the closest impression I can manage to her voice when she first started as my assistant, and we both grin then at the silliness of the moment.

"Take me to bed, and we can talk there," she suggests, kicking off her shoes and reaching down to pick up her bag.

I turn and walk up the stairs ahead of her, and I can feel her eyes watching me as I ascend to the fourth floor. We reach my room, and she places her bag by the chair next to the window. She starts removing her jeans, followed by her sweatshirt, and then finally she lifts her t-shirt over her head. She stands in front of me in the tiniest thong I have ever seen and a black bra made of the sheerest of fabrics. She is magnificent.

I take off my robe, and go to her, kissing her hungrily, and she responds with a passion that nearly drops me to my knees. To my disappointment, she stops though, and a serious look appears on her face.

"As much as I want to do this, we need to talk, Miranda. Far too often sex, however wonderful, can be used as a way of not talking, and I don't want to do that with you," Andrea's voice is quietly pleading for me to understand.

I want to shake her at that moment, but I know she is right. Today's issues need to be resolved and not just swept under the carpet, or it will cause bigger problems in the future.

"I know," I grumble uncharacteristically, walking over to the bed and pulling back the covers, "but can we do it here?"

Andrea walks to the other side of the bed, and slides under the covers, laying so that she is facing me.

"What happened today, sweetheart?"

I don't answer straight away, choosing instead to pull her against me so that I can gather my thoughts. I bury my face in her neck, something I do purely on instinct now, and I inhale subtly.

She allows me my moment of quiet, and just holds me against her, waiting patiently whilst I compose myself. I know I have to face her though, so I reluctantly come out from my hiding place.

"I was jealous of your friend, Doug. It was irrational, and I know I have no reason to be. I couldn't control the first place that my thoughts took me when I realised that you would rather go home to him than stay here with me."

I take a deep breath and risk a glance at her face, and to my surprise, she is grinning back at me.

"You do know Doug is gay, right? Now that both he and Nigel are single at the same time for once, I was planning to set them up."

"Doug is gay?" I clarify, feeling myself go weak with the relief that I won't lose her to this perfect specimen of a younger man.

"Yes, he is. But Miranda, you do know I'm gay too, right? It doesn't matter what Doug's sexuality is, I never want to be with a man in that way again. When I was younger, I did what I thought I was meant to, and I had a relationship with Nate. I might not have realised back then, but I know who and what I am now."

"Doug is gay," I repeat unnessarily, stalling for time because I'm not sure what to say. I know I need to apologise but I still can't get the words to flow from my mouth.

"Yes, but Miranda, there are a few things you should know, and I want you to listen to me. Try to accept the truth in what I'm telling you ok? Can you do that?"

"Yes," I croak, burying my face in her neck again as she starts to speak.

"Whether Doug is gay or not, doesn't matter. My apartment has three bedrooms, but even if it didn't, it wouldn't matter. I could be sharing a one-bedroom apartment with him, it wouldn't matter. I could be sharing a single bed, and he could throw himself at me while I was drunk, and I still wouldn't allow something to happen between us. I will never give you any reason to trust my fidelity, Miranda. I will never hurt you that way."

The shame I feel at that moment is overwhelming, because of course I know this about her. She has never given me a reason to doubt her, not once, in the whole three years that I have known her. She has been steadfast and loyal, and I have never had even an inkling of a reason to ever doubt her integrity.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, pulling her closer again. She allows it, although I know the conversation is far from over.

"I will never do anything to hurt you intentionally, I promise you. I know you've been hurt before, and that colours your experience with me, and I'm going to try and be patient with you, even if it hurts my feeling that you doubt me. Can you promise me something though?"

"I'll try." I want to promise her the world but I find myself asking, "what is it?"

"If you are feeling insecure, or we are in a situation that makes you feel jealous, even if you know it's irrational, will you tell me? We can talk it through and I can put your mind at ease."

She makes it sound so simple. I want to tell her that for me, it's not simple at all, but I hear myself promising to try.

"I think we also need to talk about yesterday morning because we were put on the spot by the kids, and we've not had the chance to talk about it yet." I freeze at her words, because I know that it should have been me that spoke up when my children asked about her living with us.

I know that I have to be brave because Andrea has been so upfront and so forthright with her words.

"I'm sorry, Andrea, I was surprised at their question and I panicked," I admit, rolling onto my back and looking up at the ceiling. Her hand follows me and traces patterns across my abdomen, and it's soothing, but also lights a fire within me. I just want this conversation to be over. "What I wanted to say was that I never want to spend another day or night without you. I wanted to ask you to move into the townhouse and be a family with my girls and myself. I want you to be a permanent part of their lives. I knew it was too soon to ask you that though."

She looks at me thoughtfully then, "Miranda, you decided that for both of us, without even talking to me about it. Maybe in the future, we could delay the kids. They are old enough to understand if we tell them that we need to talk about it first before any decisions are made."

She makes it sound so reasonable and I know she is right, but then I remember her response to them.

"You said you had your own place to live. You told them you have to go home," I remind her.

She sighs then, "I couldn't exactly invite myself to stay at the townhouse, when you were lying there and saying nothing, no matter how much I wanted to be here with you all."

I look at her stricken then, because of course, she is right. Yet again.

"I'm not good at this." I grimace, realising all the ways I have messed up today alone.

"Well, you're getting better. The Miranda I knew at work, would never be laying here talking so honestly about difficult subjects and feelings. We'll learn together."

Her kindness and the acceptance of my flaws will never stop surprising me, I suspect. She is willing to give me time to adjust to a new type of relationship. One that is built on trust and honesty, rather than my previous relationships that have always felt like a battle rather than a marriage.

I take the plunge because she makes me feel like I can do anything. She makes me feel safe.

"Andrea, if you are so inclined, the girls and I would be delighted if you would consider moving in here with us. We would like you to be a family with us."

Andrea's smile lights up the room like a thousand-kilowatt bulb, and she squeaks excitedly, moving half on top of me, as she kisses me rapidly, across my cheek, my jaw and then finally she sinks onto my lips.

"Is that a yes?" I mumble against the assault of her kisses.

"Yes! That's a yes!" she rolls back onto her side, and giggles happily.

Her enthusiasm is catching and my cheeks hurt from how wide I am smiling. I must be fairly consistent with a Cheshire cat right now.

"When?" she asks.

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow if you like?"

"Doug will be so happy. He told me he was just getting used to life as a bachelor again, and that me coming home was going to cramp his style," Andrea tells me with a short laugh, "he will be more than happy to have the place to himself."

"I can't wait for you to be here," I confess breathily.

"I'm here now," she tells me in a tone that is dripping with suggestion as she turns to face me again, "and I think we're done talking unless there is anything else you would like to discuss?"

I don't answer her with words.

I push her onto her back and manoeuvre myself so that I am laying on top of her, being cradled by her open thighs, and I can feel the heat coming off of her body. It's a heady sense of power being above her like this, and not a position I have taken in quite this way before. Suddenly I am not quite sure what to do next.

She reaches for my face and pulls me into a hot kiss, and as she brings her legs up around my waist, the breath leaves my lungs. My body moves against her automatically, and I can feel her arousal through the very thin lace of her thong.

"Get naked," she breathily demands, loosening her legs from around me. I slip off to remove her lingerie, and then remove my own before settling back between her thighs. I let my weight fall on her completely, and instinct takes over.

I kiss her deeply, teasing her with my tongue, as I move my body against her. We are slick together, and the heat builds between us, as my desire for her skyrockets.

I can feel her desperation from the way she grips me so tightly and moves her body, and I would swear from our previous encounters, that she is already close. I'm not sure if I am asking from shock or wonder when I blurt "can you come like this, without me using my hands?" I grind down harder with my hips, as a breathy moan leaves her lips.

"Let's find out," she rasps, grabbing hold of my hips and helping me maintain a rhythm that works for both of us.

The build-up is slow, but our passion for each other keeps rising, and I truly feel like we are one as our bodies undulate against each other. I stare down into her eyes as I feel her legs begin to tremble, and my own climax approaches.

"Oh, god, you're incredible," she pants out, pulling me even tighter against her.

"I love you, Andrea," is the last thing that I manage to gasp out before a powerful orgasm rips through me, causing white lights to spark in front of my eyes. From the way she cries out my name, I can tell that she has reached her peak too, and I continue my movements, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

Her hands on my hips still my movements, and then wrap around me as she slides me slightly to the side. I drop my head onto her shoulder, put my arm across her waist and throw my leg over her thighs.

We lay there, too tired to move, but not sleepy in the least, just enjoying being in each other's arms.

"I love you so much," she tells me in a voice that is heavy with the weight of that single statement.

"I love you so much too," I reply, closing my eyes and listening to the soft beats of her heart, as they calm from rapid to soothing.

"I'm so glad you came back, Andrea. I'm sorry that I failed you today," I tell her, full of remorse for my actions. I know that I have let her down already, so soon after the things we discussed. I should have communicated with her, but instead, I did the one thing she asked me not to do. I pushed her away.

She eyes me wickedly, "I forgive you, but I think you need to be punished."

"Andrea!"

"Where do you keep your scarves?" she asks, before capturing my lips in a sensual kiss. I get so lost in her, in the sensations she is causing in my body that I forget to answer.

"Scarves?" she reminds me, rolling away from me with a smirk on her face.

I point to the closet, "in the second drawer down."

She scampers off of the bed and I wonder what exactly I am letting myself in for.

Andrea walks slowly back to the bed, running two of my Hermes scarves between her hands, and my desire for her ratchets up even higher.

"If I am right about you, I think you will enjoy this, Miranda," she starts seriously, "we'll take it easy tonight, and if you want me to stop, then all you have to do is ask, and I will stop immediately, ok?"

"Ok," I whisper nervously.

"If you like it, then we can talk about it more, before we explore this further together."

I'm not quite sure what she means, but judging by the scarves she has in her hands, I think she is talking about some kind of bondage. It's not something I have ever considered letting anyone do before, but the thought of being completely helpless and at her mercy is strangely appealing.

Once again, I inwardly curse, as heat rises to my cheeks and it tells her everything she needs to know about my feelings on the subject.

She instructs me to lay back, and guides my arms up above my head, kissing slowly from my shoulder to my wrists, before tying each one securely to the bedposts.

"Ok?" she checks.

"Ok," is all I can reply as I discreetly tug on my bindings. Considering her gentle approach to tying my wrists, they are surprisingly secure.

She gets off of the bed, and walks over to her bag, unzipping it. I can't see what she is doing, but when she walks over to the bed, she is holding what appears to be a set of leather straps in her hand, a bottle of clear liquid and a purple object.

"These have not been used, I promise. I bought them ages ago and tucked them away, just in case I ever needed them. I never truly gave up hope that one day we would find our way together."

I realise with a flash of intense desire then, what she is holding in her hand. I have heard of such things, even if I have never seen one before, but I recognise it to be a strap-on.

To my surprise, she doesn't put it on straight away, and just places it on the bed, choosing instead to climb across and straddle me.

"You're not allowed to come, Miranda, not until I permit you. That's your punishment for today."

Well, that doesn't sound like much of a punishment, considering my actions today, and I have to stop myself from smirking. She catches on though, and warns, "it's not as easy as you might think." I gulp then, because her eyes are wicked and the grin she gives me is almost feral.

The frustration I feel is immediate. All I want to do is to pull her close to me, and feel her body against mine. Andrea is determinedly taking her time though. She runs her hands up over my abdomen, dances her fingers over my ribs, and then moves to circle my breasts with a barely there caress, carefully avoiding my nipples.

"Please, Andrea," I ask, though I am not sure what I need. Her mouth on me? Her fingers in me? Something. Anything.

She lowers her body to mine and kisses me, leaving me breathless and panting. I don't want her to ever stop kissing me but she leaves my mouth, and starts kissing the skin of my neck, sucking softly. She moves to my shoulders, and this time she sucks more harshly, and I know she is marking me. She is marking me as hers, as if there was ever any doubt. She pulls back, and examines the small bruise that has formed; a self satisfied smile on her face.

"Mine," she simply states, and I feel myself nodding my agreement. She kisses my lips sweetly then, to take away the sting that her possession has caused me. When she moves down to trail her tongue across my collar bone, I realise something. This won't be easy at all.

I close my eyes as she moves down and closes her lips around my right nipple, sucking more harshly than she ever has before, but the slight pain just makes me beg her to do it harder. Her other hand comes up and pinches my left nipple between her fingers, and I can already feel myself starting to drip with desire.

"Please touch me, Andrea," I plead, aching for her contact between my thighs.

"Oh, I will, baby, don't worry," she infuriatingly taunts me, with a smug smile, moving further down the bed. My stomach is treated to a series of kisses, sucks and small bites that have me arching up into her, but she doesn't give in.

She moves even lower and then swirls her tongue in the crease of my hip, and I beg her to move lower again. They say you should be careful what you wish for and that has never been as true as it is at this moment. She lowers her head, taking me into her mouth, her tongue swirling in wide arcs around my clitoris.

It's not enough. It's too soft, and the circles are too wide, and it is maddening just how close to climaxing I am, whilst knowing it will never quite get me there. I squirm underneath her, desperate in my attempts to guide her where I need her. She spreads my legs wider, pressing my thighs as far apart as they will go.

I feel her grin against me then, and I know that her actions are deliberate. Her tongue moves down, and dips inside me, just teasing me with enough pressure to make me want to explode, but she won't let me. I know now why she tied my hands because I want nothing more than to put my hands in her hair and drag her to where I need her.

I am lost in pleasure that borders on torture, as she comes back to my clitoris and focuses her ministrations there, building me up to the point of climax, and then moving away when she senses I am about to come.

She does this three more times until I am almost at the point of tears, and I am begging her with every breath that I take. Andrea lifts her head and checks in with me. There is no need for words, her expression is enough and I nod. She delivers a quick nip to my hip and then climbs off of the bed.

I have watched many models dress and redress for photoshoots, but I have never seen a more erotic sight than Andrea pulling on her harness and tightening the straps. Each action is done with slow, deliberate care, and I know she can sense my anticipation.

I thought that she would look silly, standing there with a purple sex toy jutting out from her body, but the image is strangely seductive. She reaches across the bed, and unties my wrists, gently caressing the skin where I have been pulling on my restraints. She kisses the insides of my wrists softly, "are they ok?"

"They're fine," I assure her, wondering what her next move will be.

"You can come now, whenever you want," she tells me and I want to cry with relief. She leans forwards and kisses me slowly, and it is as comforting as it is arousing, allowing me a moment to gain control of myself again after her torture. I am coiled so tight that I feel like a spring needing to be released.

She lowers herself against me, and I can feel the toy nudge against me, as I open my legs to welcome her in. Andrea will not be rushed though, as she kisses me over and over again until I am trembling underneath her.

"I'm ready," I tell her, hoping that this will prompt her to take action, and it does.

Andrea reaches for the bottle of liquid, "I don't think you need this, but I don't want to hurt you." She pumps once and spreads the liquid over the toy. Her hand moves down between us and helps to guide the dildo inside of me. Considering the size of it, I am surprised that it has slipped in so effortlessly, but I have never been this wet before, I know.

A buzzing noise takes me by surprise and then as she sinks into me. I can feel a vibration against my clitoris, and I gasp at the new sensation.

"It's a small bullet in the harness," she tells me, as I wonder what she means by that. What is a bullet? It sounds dangerous, but I can't think about that now, because she starts to move.

I have never felt anything like this before, as she fucks me slowly and deeply, her body grinding deliciously against mine.

"Oh, Andrea," I cry out, as I feel my orgasm building, "don't stop."

"Why would I stop?" She smirks, but she is tender when she looks down at me, "you are so beautiful when you come, Miranda, why would I ever stop?"

We settle into a rhythm, and she slowly increases the speed, as her breathing becomes quicker. The skin on her back becomes slick with her efforts, and I move my hands to her hips. I can feel her legs start to tremble and I smile up into her eyes as I realise that I know her 'tells' now. She is close, I can tell, but so am I.

"I'm so close, Andrea, come with me," I plead, my hands gripping her hips tightly as I raise my own to meet her.

"I'm right here with you, baby," is her reply, and there is that term of endearment that affected me so much before.

I lift my head to try and capture her lips, and she sinks down onto me, both of us shaking intensely, as our shared climaxes overtake us.

"Miranda," she cries out above me, as my lips release her name in a breathy cry.

We ride it out together, slowly drawing as much pleasure from the moment as we can. She collapses on top of me, a sweaty hot mess, and to my surprise, I am not turned off by this. Instead, I wrap my arms around her pulling her as close to my body as I can, burying my face in her neck.

To my dismay, I realise I am crying again, but I hear a sniffle and realise that she is too, so I don't try to hide it. She slides off to the side and rolls so that I am pulled into her arms. I melt against her automatically as my head finds her shoulder and the sound of her heart.

I am happy. It has taken many years, and many failed relationships, but finally I have what I didn't even know I was looking for. I have something that I didn't realise I was waiting for.

I have her, and I am never letting go.