Making a Scene (4 page)

Marc stripped
the shorts off without taking his eyes from me. I gazed at his
long, thick cock appreciatively. I’d never get tired of the sight
of him hard for me; I was sure of it.

I spread my
legs wide as he joined me on the bed, and he needed no
encouragement to lie between them, pressing his hard-on up against
my hot, wet slit and gazing into my face.

“You want my
cock?”

“You have no
idea how much, Sir.”

He kissed me,
slow and tender, but with a hard edge beneath that revealed his
need for me. “Good, because I want my submissive to take it for
me.”

I rubbed my
clit against his rigid shaft desperately, arching my back so that
the points of my hard nipples brushed his chest and sent sparks of
lust through my system. Marc gave a low, approving growl and
reached down between our bodies to guide his length inside me in
one long, insistent thrust, not stopping until he was buried to the
hilt in my pussy.

I nuzzled his
neck, wishing I could hold him, but at the same time loving the
fact that I couldn’t. “You always feel amazing, Sir.”

“And you’re
fucking incredible, my sub.” He gave me another one of those slow,
sweet kisses that made my heart sing, sighing into my mouth as my
inner muscles fluttered around his shaft in response.

When he drew
back from the kiss, he looked down into my face with an expression
I couldn’t quite read. There was affection there, but also
something inexplicably protective, almost fierce, not quite
desperate. It didn’t make sense, but right now, it didn’t have
to.

He braced
himself to withdraw, and I readied myself for his next thrust with
an ache of longing so deep that it took my breath away.

“I want you so
much, Sir…”

Marc’s cock
jerked inside me, a subtle but enticing movement. With a lustful
purr, I tightened my internal muscles around it. His breath
caught.

He drew back
and slammed into me, beginning a fast, hard rhythm that made me
almost sob with relief, even as it broke the mood of that lingering
moment between us. The orgasm I’d been craving for hours began to
build again, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until I lost my mind
completely. I wrapped my legs around him and gave up control,
letting Marc use me as he wanted, just holding on for the ride as
the pleasure increased with every rock of his hips.

He slowed just
a little, captured my lips with his as he moved, and I moaned into
his mouth at the new intimacy of his tongue against mine. I loved
being this close to him, his breath hot against my lips, his body
brushing mine up and down as he moved against me.

I love
you.
I wished I could say it, but was too lost in his kiss to
break away. When he broke away to kneel, grab my hips and thrust up
at a new, dizzyingly effective angle, I was too busy crying out
with ecstasy to form coherent words.

“Wait for me,”
he ordered, his voice rough and commanding. “Don’t you dare come
yet.”

With
difficulty, I held his gaze and nodded. Even though I wasn’t
entirely sure I could obey, I was going to try my damnedest.

“Good girl.”
Marc brushed his finger lightly over my clit and I bit back another
cry, my thighs beginning to tremble on either side of his waist.
His approving grunt as I clenched around him just made things even
better, and I gasped his name pleadingly.

He cursed,
leaning over me again and increasing the depth of his thrusts. His
cock slipped in and out easily, lubricated by my juices. My toes
curled as he rolled one of my nipples, squeezed hard enough to make
me whimper, then moved roughly to my other breast to do the same
there.

“Now,
Sir?”

He didn’t
reply for long, agonisingly pleasurable moments, and I was almost
sobbing by the time he gave the command. “Now.”

As I stopped
holding back, Marc tangled the fingers of one hand in my hair,
yanking my head to the side and biting down on the curve of flesh
where my neck met my shoulder. I came hard around his cock, my
senses blurring into one heady experience of pain and bliss, my
body shuddering with relief as the climax took me. Marc growled
with satisfaction as his shaft jerked inside me, and he kissed the
spot he’d just bitten tenderly.

I tried to
curl around him in the afterglow, but my hands were still tethered
above my head. As if reading my mind, Marc reached up and thumbed
the catch on the clip holding my wrists together, freeing me. I
brought my arms down slowly, readjusting to freedom, and Marc drew
me closer, wrapping me in his warm embrace and rolling us so that I
lay on top of him, his cock still deep within me.

We stayed that
way for a while, quiet and relaxed. Marc skimmed his fingers up and
down my spine with a sigh. “I was worried about you today.”

“I was okay,
really. It was unexpected, but I had work to do anyway, so I guess
it’s good that we got interrupted.”

“I’ll try to
keep you out of his way as much as I can.”

I lifted my
head to find him frowning up at the ceiling, and ran my fingers
over the crease between his eyebrows. What was going on with him?
His father seemed hard to get along with, but Marc seemed more
troubled than the situation called for.

“I have to
admit, he’s a little scary. I can hold off on officially meeting
him for a while.”

I’d been
trying for a light tone, but something about it must have rubbed
Marc up the wrong way. Pressing a distracted kiss to my temple, he
rolled me off him and stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute,
okay?”

“Sure,” I said
to his retreating back, admiring the flex of his tight buttocks as
he walked across the dungeon to the bathroom. I was getting more
confused by the moment.

When he
returned a few minutes later, there was no trace of the odd mood
he’d displayed just before he’d left the room. “Wanna find
something to eat?”

Chapter
Three

Dear
Diary,

It’s been a
week since that interrupted scene in Marc’s office. I’ve seen him a
couple of times around the office, but he hasn’t taken me back
upstairs for any stolen moments or offered to spend any time
together after work, and he seems a little distant. All I can get
out of him is that something’s come up that he has to work on, and
he doesn’t have time to socialise. I guess whatever made his dad go
ballistic on Monday, it was something pretty big.

It’s given me
time to think, though. I needed that—everything’s been so
whirlwind-like since I met him, and I was just going with the flow
rather than thinking things through.

Submission is
fun, and I want to be more dedicated to it. I want to please Marc,
because that’ll also mean I’m pleasing myself. There’s nothing like
that buzz I get from following his instructions, then having him
praise me for it. I like the idea of serving his needs and trusting
he’ll see to mine, and that weird and wonderful connection between
us when that happens, when he introduces me to something I never
thought I’d like, but somehow do.

I hope he’s
free at some point this weekend. I’ve missed being around him so
much. Plus, there are a couple of new movies coming out that I’d
love to watch with him.

Oh, god, what
if he’s changed his mind about us after his dad nearly caught us?
How am I going to deal with that?

I’ll cross
that bridge when I come to it, I guess.

****

The end of the
working day on a Friday should have been a time for relief, and
excitement for the weekend to come, but this time all I felt was
disappointment that Marc hadn’t gotten in touch, and more than a
little anxiety. How long should I wait before approaching him? I
didn’t want to interrupt his work, but as things stood between us,
I needed some reassurance.

Calling my
goodbyes to the people at the desks around mine, I headed for the
door, deep in thought. At least work was going well. Stella seemed
pleased with my contributions, and if I could finalise a logo for
the new ‘not tested on animals’ branding we were looking at
introducing…

My apartment
was only about twenty minutes’ walk from the office, so I decided
to head off on foot rather than wait around for public transport
during rush hour. As I made my way home, my thoughts returned to
Marc. The memory of his arms around me made me smile despite my
worries, and by the time I got to my apartment block my imagination
had strayed into very X-rated territory.

Since it
looked as if I was going to be alone for the evening, I went
straight into my bedroom, pulled the drapes shut and stripped out
of my work clothing immediately. My vibrator was in the bottom
drawer of my bedside cabinet, and I set it within reach before I
lay down on the bed.

Calling up a
fantasy of Marc standing over me was as easy as blinking, and I
slid my fingers between my thighs, imagining he was watching me. I
was already wet, and as I teased my clit with one hand, I cupped my
breast with the other, then squeezed the nipple into hardness.

“You want to
come?” my fantasy asked, staying out of my reach. “Show me how
needy you are, Eleanor.”

I cupped my
hot, wet labia in my palm and rolled my hips up, grinding my clit
against my hand as I pressed down firmly. He made a low noise of
approval, just for me, and I murmured wordlessly in response,
caught up in the warm, throbbing heat that was the centre of my
existence right now.

“Finger that
tight, hot pussy for me, my sub. Imagine I’m the one touching
you.”

I slipped a
finger inside slowly, enjoying the sensation of opening up inside,
the slow burn of added pleasure as I began to withdraw it
again.

“More,” he
commanded, and I brought another finger in to join the first,
sighing at the increased width. “Don’t forget your clit.”

As if I
could!
I rolled my thumb across it and let loose a tiny cry,
curling my fingers inside my pussy and increasing the pace of my
hand’s movements. “I want you, Sir,” I whispered to the empty room,
knowing my words would go unheard but lost in the fantasy. “I’ve
missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed
the way you taste, Eleanor. The way you press against my tongue
when I lick you, the way you moan when I suck on your clit. You
have no idea how much I want to do that right now.”

My inner walls
rippled around my fingers as the words took their powerful effect.
“Anything you want, Sir.”

My fantasy
Marc laughed softly. “Then come here.”

In reality, I
didn’t move, barely even slowed my touches against my swollen clit.
In my mind, though, I got up from the bed and crossed the
dungeon—all of a sudden we were there rather than at my place—to
stand in front of my shirtless Dom. His suit pants bulged with his
erection, and I yearned to rub myself against it, but he guided me
the few steps to the St. Andrew’s cross instead, his grip firm on
the back of my neck.

“Hold the
straps,” Marc directed as he positioned me with my back to the
smooth, dark wooden X.

It was pretty
obvious that he could have fastened the leather straps around my
wrists, keeping me in place, had he wanted to. This was clearly
meant to be a test of my obedience, and I would not let him down.
Leaning back against the cross, I reached up and out to the straps
at the two higher points of the cross, holding them lightly for
now.

My fantasy
Marc looked me over approvingly, the intensity of his gaze making
goosebumps break out over my skin. “Fall, and I’ll stop.”

He dropped to
his knees in front of me, the movement bringing his head level with
my abdomen.

I clutched at
the straps I was holding, his warning suddenly making sense. If I
overbalanced before he brought me to orgasm, he’d leave me
unfulfilled. I could hardly bear the thought, and yet the risk of
it brought a new surge of warm wetness to my pussy. Even my
fantasies were demanding these days.

I writhed on
the bed in reality as, in my mind, Marc kissed down from my navel
to slide his tongue between my sensitive labia. My head fell back
against the St. Andrew’s cross as I held the straps tighter,
determined to ride out this experience without slipping. He gave
several long, languid licks, tasting me thoroughly, then slid two
fingers deep inside me as he drew my clit into his mouth, circling
it with the tip of his tongue.

“Sir…” I
whispered, pressing against his face and down onto his fingers. He
fucked me steadily that way while I silently begged my weak knees
to support me through this blissful torment.

My legs were
shaking, but I was pretty sure I’d be able to stay upright—that
was, until he lightly scraped his teeth over my clit. My knees
buckled without warning, leaving me clinging to the straps that
prevented me from sliding to the floor.

“Oh, my god,
please…” I somehow managed to hang on, to redistribute my weight so
I wouldn’t fall, but it was a close thing.

Marc held me
by the hips, helping me reorient myself again without taking his
lips from my pussy. He gazed up at me while he flicked his tongue
over my clit, his eyes dark with pure, animal lust.

His intense
focus was the last element I needed to tip over the edge. Shaking
with need, I bucked against his fingers and tongue as the orgasm
crested to drown me in indescribable sensation. Dimly, I was aware
that I’d screamed out with my release, but that only seemed to make
it headier, more tangible.

By the time
the climax faded enough for me to gather my fantasy together again,
Marc had gathered me into his lap and I was clinging to his
shoulders, trying to regain my breath. Had I fallen, or had he
guided me to the ground? I suspected it was the former, but it
didn’t matter now.