The_Submissive - Tara Sue Me (8 page)

Apollo ran up to us when Nathaniel opened the door. I stood back, afraid he would soil my gown.

“Keep the gown on and wait in my room,” Nathaniel said. “The way you did in my office.”

I walked up the stairs slowly. Had I done something wrong? I thought back over the evening and pondered the many, many mistakes I might have made. I’d never told Nathaniel that Elaina came by. I insisted everyone call me Abby. I told Linda we’d have lunch. What if it was a test when he’d asked what kind of wine I wanted? What if I should have said white? What if I should have said,
Whatever you wish, Mr. West?

My mind came up with three thousand things I’d done wrong, each one more ridiculous than the last. I wished he’d given me some instruction before we’d left.

He was still dressed when he entered. At least I think he was. My head was down; all I saw were his shoes and pants as he walked in front of me.

He moved behind me, each step slower than the one before. His hands came up and softly traced the top of the gown. “You were spectacular tonight.” He started taking the pins from my hair. Soft curls fell around my shoulders. “And my family will talk about nothing but you now.”

Did that mean he wasn’t mad? I hadn’t done anything wrong? I couldn’t
think
with him so close.

“You pleased me tonight, Abigail.” His voice was smooth, his lips dancing along my back, close but not quite touching. “Now it’s my turn to please you.”

He drew the zipper of my gown down and slowly pushed the straps from my shoulders. His lips were on me then. Trailing my spine as the gown made its way down and fell to a puddle at my feet.

He swept me into his arms and carried me to his bed. “Lie down,” he said and I could do nothing but obey.

I hadn’t worn any hose and he knelt between my legs and slipped my heels off. Dropped them to the floor. He looked up, met my eyes, and then bent down to place a kiss on the inside of my ankle. I gasped.

But he didn’t stop, his lips kissed gently all the way up my leg as his hand softly brushed the other. He reached my panties and a long finger hooked at the waistband.

I knew exactly what he was doing, what he was going to do. “Don’t,” I said, putting a hand on his head.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Abigail,” he whispered. He slipped the panties down and I was naked and spread before him once more.

No one had ever done this to me before. Kissed me
there.
And I was sure that was what he was getting ready to do. I ached for it, needed it, and I closed my eyes in anticipation.

He kissed me gently, right on my clit, and I grabbed
the sheets, all coherent thought leaving me. I didn’t care what he did anymore. I just needed him. Needed him badly. In whatever way he wished.

He blew on me and went back to kissing. Taking his time, moving slowly, letting me grow used to him. Placing kisses sporadically, soft as whispers.

He licked me and I bucked off the bed. Shit. Forget his fingers. His fingers had nothing on his tongue. And he was soft and slow, licking me, nipping me. I struggled to close my legs, to keep the sensation inside, but he slipped his hands to my knees and pushed them apart.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” he warned and his voice vibrated against me, causing shudders to work their way up and down my body.

His tongue was back, licking where I needed it, and his teeth nibbled gently. All the while, the familiar tingling of my climax built up, starting where his mouth was and spreading down my legs, up my torso to my breasts, circling my nipples.

But no, that wasn’t me, those were Nathaniel’s hands. And he was working me with his mouth, while his fingers stroked my nipples. Tugged. Pulled.

And licked and nibbled down below.

I twisted the sheets, wrapping them around my wrists, pulling hard as I pressed against him. His tongue swirled around my clit and I gave a small cry when pleasure overtook my body, starting where Nathaniel stroked softly and spiraling outward.

“I think it’s time for you to go to your room,” Nathaniel whispered when my breathing had returned to normal.

He was still completely dressed.

I sat up. “What about you, shouldn’t we…” I didn’t know how to say it. But he hadn’t climaxed, it didn’t seem fair.

“I’m fine.”

“But it’s my place to serve you,” I argued.

“No,” he said. “It’s your place to do as I say, and I say it’s time for you to go to your room.”

I slipped off the bed, warm and weightless. I was surprised my legs kept me up.

Between the emotions of the day, and the relaxing release I’d just experienced, it wasn’t long before I fell asleep.

That was the first night I heard the music—a piano somewhere, playing soft and sweet. Delicate and haunting. I searched for the sound in my dream, tried to find out who was playing, where the music was coming from. But I kept getting lost and each endless hallway looked the same. I knew somehow that the music was home, but I couldn’t get there and, in my dream, I fell to my knees and sobbed.

CHAPTER
NINE

I slept restlessly that night, twisting, turning, and at one point woke up in a daze. An unexpected sadness filled me, but I couldn’t remember what made me sad. Just something about music and not finding it, and in my confusion, I rolled over and went back to sleep.

I woke up at five-thirty and realized why Nathaniel wanted me to get eight hours of sleep during the week—sleep on weekends was prime. I rolled out of bed with a groan.

I was showered and dressed by six-fifteen, leaving plenty of time to finally make my signature French toast. A light shone from under the door of the gym. Nathaniel must already be up and working out. I wondered if I’d ever wake up before he did.

I yawned while dicing the bananas and beating the eggs. I loved to cook. Loved creating a meal that would give sustenance and tasted good. If I didn’t love books so much, I’d have been a chef.

I was sautéing the bread when Apollo plodded in. “Hey, Apollo,” I called. “What’s happening?”

He gave a soft woof, yawned, and rolled to his side.

“You too?” I asked, yawning again.

I thought over the previous night while the banana sauce cooked. It still seemed surreal. But it’d been a lot of fun. Everyone had been so nice. And Nathaniel…I especially thought about Nathaniel, dancing with him, and then up in his bedroom…

I almost burned the sauce.

At seven o’clock I served him breakfast, placing the toast on a plate and pouring the sauce over everything.

“Make yourself a plate and have a seat,” he said. There was no trace of the gentleman of the previous night, but I knew he was there somewhere.

I sat down with my own food and had just taken a bite when he spoke again.

“I have plans for you today, Abigail,” he said. “Plans to prepare you for my pleasure.”

Plans to prepare me for his pleasure? What the hell? I’d been doing the yoga, I’d been running, I’d been following the diet plan—what else did he expect?

But we weren’t at my table.

“Yes, Master,” I said, looking down at my plate. My heart pounded. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I swirled some sauce around my plate with a piece of bread.

“Eat, Abigail,” he said. “You can’t serve me on an empty stomach.”

I wasn’t too sure I’d be able to serve anything if my nerves caused me to throw up all over him, but I kept
that thought to myself. I ate a bite of toast. I might as well have been eating cardboard.

After I’d finished enough of my breakfast to please Nathaniel, I cleared the table and went back to the dining room to stand beside him.

“You have far too many clothes on,” he said. “Go to my room and take them all off.”

My mind wrestled with itself on the way to his room. What else could we do that we hadn’t done? I thought, trying to calm myself down. We’d had sex three times, he’d gone down on me the night before, and I’d served him orally at least three times. I could handle whatever was coming.

I’d done a halfway successful job of calming down. But then I entered his room and stopped short.

There was some sort of bench in the middle of the room—at least I thought it was a bench. It was waist-high. And had a step.

The nervous excitement returned. I took off my clothes and put them in a messy pile beside the door. Then I stood and stared at the wooden contraption.

“It’s a whipping bench,” Nathaniel said, strolling into the room. “I use it for chastisement, but it serves other purposes as well.”

Say it
, rational brain side begged.
Turpentine. Say it.

No
, crazy side countered.
I want this.

My inner struggle was lost on Nathaniel.

Or else he ignored it.

“Step up,” he said. “And lie on your stomach.”

Three little syllables and you can be on your way home
, rational brain tried again.

Three little syllables and you’ll never see him. He won’t hurt you.
Crazy side wanted to stay. Crazy side wanted Nathaniel.

He said he wouldn’t cause you permanent harm. He never said it wouldn’t hurt.
Rational side had a point.

“Abigail.” Nathaniel took a deep breath. “This is getting tiresome. Either do it or say your safe word. I won’t ask again.”

I considered my options for five seconds. Crazy side won. Rational side threatened to take a long vacation.

I took a deep breath and stepped on the bench. The wood was smooth and had a scooped area for my body.

Okay, this isn’t too bad.

Nathaniel was doing something behind me. I heard him opening and closing drawers. Something was placed beside my hips.

“Do you remember what I told you Friday night?” he asked. It was a rhetorical question. I wasn’t supposed to be talking unless he told me to specifically. He was messing with my mind.

I thought back to Friday night. Lots of sex, no sleep, lots of sex, aches and pains, sex, clam sauce, more sex…Total blank—I had no idea what he was talking about.

He placed two warm hands on my waist, stroked my
backside, and I remembered him asking about anal sex.

Turpentine!
rational brain side screamed.
Turpentine!

I clenched my teeth to keep the word inside my head where it belonged. I clenched other parts of my body. Hell, I clenched my
entire
body.

“Relax.” He stroked down my back. Any other time, it would have felt good. Any other time, I’d have purred with the pleasure of his hands on me. But not if he was going to want anal sex.

True, I hadn’t marked it as a hard limit. I just thought it would come later.

There was rustling, he was taking his clothes off. I sucked in a deep breath and kept my body rigid.

Nathaniel sighed. “Move to the bed, Abigail.”

I jumped down so quickly, I almost tripped. Nathaniel followed me to the bed—he was naked and magnificent, but I barely noticed.

“You have to relax.” He took me in his arms. “This won’t work if you don’t.” His mouth was on my neck and I threw my arms around him. Yes, this I knew. This I could handle.

That wonderful mouth was doing unbelievable things to my skin. My body started to loosen as his mouth made its way down. His lips brushed my nipples and I threw my head back as his tongue swirled around and around.

He placed kisses up and down my torso, his hands
always stroking, always moving, igniting me with their touch.

“What I do, I do for your pleasure as much as mine.” He nibbled my ear. “Trust me, Abigail.”

And I wanted to. I wanted to trust him. The gentleman of last night I trusted. The dom with a whipping bench? Well, he was a bit harder to trust.

They’re the same man
, I told myself.

I was so confused, I didn’t know what to think. I was trying so hard to work out what was happening. What would be the right thing to do. Who he was.

And the entire time, Nathaniel kept up his soothing murmurings.

“I can bring you pleasure, Abigail,” he whispered. “Pleasure like you’ve never imagined.”

He was knocking down my resistance. Erasing all my excuses. And I let him. I had no choice, really. He’d already claimed me.

He pulled back and looked in my eyes as he entered me. I moaned and tightened my arms around him.

It was then I realized that for the first time I had my arms free during sex. I ran a tentative hand down his back.

“Let it go, Abigail.” He pushed further into me. “Fear has no place in my bed.”

He pulled out and started a fast tempo, all the while soothing me with his voice. All the while reassuring.

After a while, I couldn’t remember what I was afraid
of. Couldn’t remember anything. Just Nathaniel and his bed and the feel of him pounding into me over and over and his voice whispering of promised pleasure.

My release began to tighten in my belly. Nathaniel pulled back from me, lifted my hips, and thrust in deeper. I was close, so close. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him toward me. And just as he thrust in for the last time, something warm and slick pushed inside my backside and I screamed as my climax overtook my body.