The Dominant (5 page)

Damn, she wanted this as much as I did.

With a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a moan, she leaned forward to take me in her mouth. I placed my hands on
her head to steady myself as she took me deeper.

“All of me, Abigail. Take all of me.” And I knew it wouldn’t be difficult for her to take more than just my cock in her mouth.
She alone had the power to take both my body and my soul.

But I couldn’t think about that. All I could focus on was the feel of her mouth as she engulfed me. I reached the back of
her throat and started to move in and out.

“Do you like that?” I asked. “Do you like me fucking your hot little mouth?”

She gave a muffled groan from low in her throat that caused vibrations to spread throughout my body. I held her hair tighter.

She sucked me harder, and I looked down to watch my cock
slide in and out of her mouth. Her eyes were cast down, and I shivered at the sight of her taking the whole of me. She moved
her lips to let her teeth slide along my length.

She remembered.

“Damn, Abigail.”

I tried to hold on to the feeling growing deep in my balls, closed my eyes to block the sight of her mouth on me. But the
image was burned into my memory and it was useless to deny what she did to me.

“I’m coming,” I said as my cock jerked inside her mouth. “I can’t—”

I thrust inside one more time and held still deep within her as I released into her mouth. She swallowed, moving her throat
around my head, and I hissed through my teeth in pleasure.

When she finished, I withdrew and pulled my pants on. “You may go put your clothes back on.”

She stood up, her face flushed with excitement.

I know, I wanted to say. I feel the same way.

She left that afternoon after I instructed her to return on Friday evening at six o’clock. I did my best to contain my excitement
when I spoke to her about the next weekend. After all, she wouldn’t know what I had planned. Only I knew how long the week
would stretch as I waited impatiently to finally claim her body.

I asked her if she had any questions before she left, and she mentioned that if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother, would
I mind providing a gown for next weekend. My childhood friend Todd Welling’s wife, Elaina, was a fashion designer, and I knew
she would have something perfect.

“Of course. I’ll have something here for you to wear on Saturday. I have your measurements from your application.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Think nothing of it—and if you have any concerns or questions for me this week, feel free to call my cell phone.”

I really hoped she would call, but I knew she probably wouldn’t.

Call me, Abigail. I want you to.

“Elaina,” I said when I called on Monday. “My date needs a gown for the benefit on Saturday—can you bring something?”

“You have a date?” she asked. “Really?”

I glared at my cell phone and then gave up. It’s not like she could see me. “I’ve decided not to take that as an insult,”
I said.

“I just didn’t know you were dating anyone since you and Melanie broke up. Besides, you normally show up to these things alone.”

She was right. I couldn’t argue with her on that one. But I normally didn’t have Abigail as my collared submissive. I didn’t
typically take submissives with me to family functions, even when they were wearing my collar. Paige and Beth were the only
two I had ever introduced to my family.

“Well, get your jaw up off the floor and find a gown,” I said, “because I have a date.”

“About time.”

I almost hung up. It just wasn’t worth it. But Abigail had asked for a gown, and a gown she would have, even if I had to withstand
a few not so funny comments. I knew Elaina meant well. She just liked to tease.

“The gown,” I reminded her.

“Right. Right,” she said, and I heard papers shuffling in the background. “What does she want?”

She wants whatever I provide
, I wanted to say. I didn’t, though—Elaina was clueless as to my life’s finer details. “Something sexy, but not too revealing.
Sophisticated sexy.”

“Oh, Nathaniel, say it again.”

“Say what?”

“Sexy. I want to hear you say
sexy
.”

“Shut up. Do you have something or not?”

“What size?”

“Four.”

“Hold on.”

I heard more rustling. She was moving around her office now, probably sifting through material or dresses or whatever.

“I have just the thing,” she said finally. “In black.”

“Silver.” I thought back to the satin bathrobe. “Silver looks good with her skin tone.”

“Did she request silver, or did my CEO workaholic friend actually notice the way a color looks with a woman’s skin tone?”

I tapped my pen against my desk. “Okay, you found me out. I’m a CEO workaholic who finally discovered what color could do
to a woman’s skin tone.” I sighed. “Do you have it in silver or not?”

“Sorry. Only black. But I promise if I weren’t on deadline, I’d do a gown in silver for your date with the beautiful skin
tone.”

“Thanks, Elaina.” I wondered how quickly this tidbit would make it back to everyone. I was sure Elaina would call Todd as
soon as we hung up.

“Does she need shoes and a bag to match?” Elaina asked.

“That would be lovely. Size seven shoe.”

More rustling. “Size seven black heels coming up.”

“Thanks, Elaina.”

“When do I get to meet her?” she asked.

“Saturday night, along with everyone else.”

We talked more about the upcoming weekend and Todd’s
practice. When we hung up, I tried to concentrate on the report in front of me and quickly gave up. I wasn’t going to get
anything done—I might as well accept it.

I dialed my cousin.

“Jackson,” I said when he picked up the phone. “Let’s do lunch.”

“Today?”

“Yes.” I looked at the clock—it was only eleven. “Can you meet me at Delphina’s in an hour?”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

I picked Delphina’s because it was a favorite of mine and it wasn’t a sports bar. As much as I loved Jackson, sometimes it
was nice to eat at a place that didn’t have games blaring from ten different televisions.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the booth an hour later. “What’s happening?”

“The usual. The economy’s headed south. My employees are worried. I have a date for the benefit.”

“You having a date for the benefit isn’t the usual.” He picked up the menu and glanced at it. “They only got sissy food in
this place?”

“Some of us like sissy food,” I said. “The occasional salad won’t kill you.”

“Hell, yes, it will.” He turned the menu over. “Ah, yes, they do have red meat.”

The waiter walked over to take our orders, but before we could resume our conversation, my phone buzzed.

I turned the ringer off and sighed. That particular business associate could wait. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Wall
Street at the moment.

“I don’t mind if you need to take that,” Jackson said at my frown.

“I’m not going to ruin lunch by discussing the downward movement of the stock market.”

“Economy really sucks, huh?”

“Not everyone makes millions of dollars a year, you know.”

“Don’t make me feel bad,” he warned. “You make just as much as I do. Probably more.”

“Not this year.”

“What?”

“I’m not pulling a salary this year.” I shrugged. “It’s not like I need to get paid, after all. And my annual salary will
go toward ensuring my employees are taken care of.”

He looked at me with disbelieving eyes. “Hell, you’re serious.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Do your employees know what you’re doing?”

The waiter returned with our drinks and I took a sip of water.

“No,” I said. “Although I’m sure they’ll see it when the annual
report comes out later.”

“Is the company in danger?”

“No,” I said. “Not in any way. We’re actually doing better than most. I’m just being cautious.”

“Mr. Prepared, that’s you.” He laughed and then looked up at me. “So, Felicia?”

“Yes?”

A grin broke across his face. “I know it’s early, but thanks. She sounds like a dream on the phone.”

“You called her?” I asked.

“Last night. I asked her to go with me this weekend.”

“Abigail said she was a redhead and a kindergarten teacher.”

“What else could you want in a woman?”

“I’m glad I could help out.”

He leaned back in the booth. “Tell me about your Abby.”

Your Abby, he called her.

My Abby.

I cleared my throat. “She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman who cooks a mean steak.”

“She’s already cooked for you?” Jackson watched me with a curious look in his eye. “Serious?”

And sucked me off twice. Serious.

My cock twitched just thinking about it, and I shifted in my seat. “As serious as it can be after one weekend.”

The waiter brought my grilled chicken salad and Jackson’s hamburger. I put my napkin in my lap and looked up to Jackson. He
was staring at me with an odd look in his eyes.

“Fuckin’ A, man.”

“Something wrong with your burger?” It looked good from where I sat, but you never knew.

“Dude,” he said simply, like he knew something I should.

“What?”

He looked at me again, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

I frowned and started eating. Jackson didn’t normally get weird on me. Maybe he’d gotten hit in the head too many times at
the game the day before.

On Thursday afternoon, I left the office earlier than normal and told Sara on my way out not to expect me on Friday. Her jaw
dropped slightly, but she recovered quickly and simply nodded.

I spent part of Friday morning walking around my grounds with Apollo, trying to decide what I wanted planted come spring.
It was too late to plant tulips, but my gardener had suggested lilies. I’d been hesitant, afraid the exotic-looking flower
wouldn’t match my more muted plants. On the walk, however, I grew energized thinking about the night to come. Muted was boring.
My garden needed more of the exotic. Just like how collaring Abigail had brought the exotic into my life.

She hadn’t called me and, as much as I wanted to check up on her, I held back. I didn’t want to overwhelm her, and I wanted
to give her time to reconsider.

I heard a car pull up the circular drive around two o’clock, and I walked to the front of the house. Todd and Elaina must
have arrived. Apollo hung back behind me.

“Nathaniel,” Elaina said, rushing forward to hug me. “How are you?”

“Good, Elaina,” I said. “Thanks.”

Todd held a garment bag and a box of shoes. “Nathaniel,” he said, smiling.

“Hey, Todd.” I took the bag and box. “I assume these are for me?”

“Sure, man,” he said. “Silver’s your color.”

Fuck. Elaina told him.

“I’ve heard it does wonders for your skin tone,” he said.

Elaina punched him on the arm. “Be nice.”

“Come on in,” I said, walking inside, ignoring the skin tone comment.

I hung the bag in the coat closet. I would take it up to Abigail’s room later. We walked into the kitchen and sat down at
the table. I tried to push from my mind that in a few hours, Abigail and I would be sitting here. And that shortly after that,
we’d go upstairs—

“So,” Elaina said, interrupting my thoughts. “What are you doing at home today?”

I got up and poured us all a glass of tea. “I’m taking the day off.”

“You don’t take days off,” Todd said.

“Sure I do.” I set their glasses down. “I took New Year’s Day off. I took Christmas off.” I wrinkled my forehead like I was
in deep thought. “And I’m quite positive I took Thanksgiving off. Day after, too, now that I think about it.”

I put the tea pitcher back in the refrigerator.

“You know what I mean,” Todd said.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I just wanted to take a day off. Hang out with Apollo, you know?”

Todd and Elaina exchanged a look. Damn. It was the same look Jackson had given me earlier in the week. Was everyone in on
something?

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Todd said. He winked at Elaina. “Round of golf still on for tomorrow?”

Before I’d collared Abigail, I’d agreed to play golf with Jackson and Todd this weekend. I couldn’t very well get out of it.
“Sure thing,” I said. “Golf tomorrow.”

Who could talk about tomorrow? Who could think past tonight?

How much longer until six o’clock? I looked at my watch. Too damn long.

“Everything okay?” Elaina asked. “You look distracted.”

Damn right I’m distracted, I wanted to shout. Who the hell wouldn’t be distracted?

Instead I sat down and took a sip of tea. I was calm. I could do calm. “Not at all,” I said. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

I didn’t think they believed me.

I opened the door when I heard the car service in the drive. Abigail’s eyes darted to the front door as she got out of the
car and she gave me a timid smile.

“Abigail,” I said. “It’s good to see you this evening.”

“Thank you.”

She was nervous. I could tell by the way her gaze flickered over everything. Yet the few times she looked my way, her eyes
grew dark with yearning and desire. Perhaps her week had been just as long as mine. I could tell without asking that she had
followed the command I gave her before she left last weekend—she was not to touch herself during the week.

I led her to the kitchen, and we sat down to eat the clam sauce
I’d made after Elaina and Todd left. Cooking had calmed me down.

“How was your week?” I asked after she started eating.

A smile tickled the corner of her mouth. “Long. How was yours?”

I couldn’t tell her it had been the same for me. That I’d spent too much time planning the night, imagining it. To do so would
give too much of me away. So I just shrugged, playing it cool. She needed me to be in control.

We continued eating. “Apollo killed a gopher,” I said.

She looked slightly taken aback, and her cheeks bore the faintest of pink flushes. She wasn’t expecting that, for me to make
normal conversation. It made her even more needy, got her more worked up. Playing Abigail was going to be an absolute treat.
I would savor every second.

Sex didn’t start in bed. Sex started in the way you moved, the way you talked. It was whispered, conveyed with a subtle look.

“My friend Todd’s wife, Elaina, brought a gown by earlier,” I said, because we wouldn’t have another chance to talk about
the benefit after dinner. “They’re looking forward to meeting you.”

“Your friends? Does everyone know about us?” Her voice was anxious.

I took my time twirling a bite of pasta.
I’m in control of this, Abigail. Trust me
. I ate a forkful before answering. “They know you’re my date. They don’t know about our agreement.”

I leaned back and watched her eat. She compulsively cut her pasta up and took several small bites. At one point she looked
up, saw me watching, and went back to studying her pasta.

A few more seconds and I’d have her right where I wanted her.

She suddenly put down her fork. “So do you plan to touch me this weekend or not?” she blurted.

Yes.

“Ask me the question in a more respectful manner, Abigail.
Just because this is your table doesn’t mean you can talk to me any way you choose.”

Her gaze fell to the table. “Will you touch me this weekend, Master?”

“Look at me,” I said, because I wanted to see her eyes.

Her expression was conflicted—she knew she’d misspoken—but I’d overlook it this one time. And since she’d asked . . .

“I plan to do more than touch you. I plan to fuck you. Hard and repeatedly.”

Her lips parted and her eyes grew wide with excitement, dinner forgotten.

Yes . . .

I pushed back from the table. “Let’s get started, shall we? I want you naked and on my bed in fifteen minutes.”