by Geneva Lee
“For what? Scaring the shit out of me?” I rubbed my chest, sliding my hand down to soothe the baby who’d begun to kick with annoyance at being woken so rudely.
Alexander leaned forward, half his face coming into the light. He frowned and shook his head. “For springing this on you. I didn’t know she was coming.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I leaned against the wall while I waited for my heart to settle. Then I realized it wouldn’t —not with him here. That was what he did to me. Sometimes, he didn’t have to be present at all. I might catch a hint of bergamot or cloves in the air and find my body aching for him, recalling how his skin smelled when it was against mine.
“You’re not mad.” There was strangled relief in his tone. He stood, backing slowly toward the door. “I’ll leave, then.”
“Don’t,” I said suddenly, then bit my lip, feeling a bit too needy.
He froze in place and we studied each other for a moment. It was there in the space between us—a spectrum of feelings: anger and fear and hope and want. It only had one name: love.
“Have you thought…” he began slowly, clearing his throat and starting over. “Have you thought more about what I suggested?”
“Does your whole family speak in riddles? I already had to put up with the Cheshire Cat for twenty minutes. What are you talking about?” This was going well so far. We’d barely begun speaking to each other and we were already fighting.
He crossed his arms over his broad chest and my eyes zeroed in on how the seams of his jacket strained against his muscles. Nothing could contain him. He was more powerful than anyone or anything on earth. I could never resist him and I was getting tired of trying.
“I looked,” he continued with some hesitation, “into our family estates. There are several within an hour that would suit you and Elizabeth. Some are more up to date than others…”
My heart plummeted, reminding me painfully that it was still there, splintered and in pieces. Every time I thought we were past this, I was proven wrong. I’d opened myself to him the day he’d told me to leave, showing him what that thought did to me. I’d thought he had seen that it was impossible—that we had to find a way through this together. Then, he left the room, telling me otherwise and leaving me confused again. When he’d included me on the decision about Sarah, I’d thought…
Maybe it wasn’t a rational thought at all, but stupid, blind hope. I’d once clung to hope. I’d believed it was an inexhaustible resource but now my supply was dwindling. Soon there would be none left at all.
“Stop,” I whispered as he continued with his plans. By some miracle, he heard me.
“We need to discuss this. The baby will be here soon. You should be settled, be—”
“I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to leave.”
“You want to leave. You don’t. You want to talk. You don’t. What do you want, Clara?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I’m stressed and pregnant and horny—” I tried to swallow back this last confession but it was out of my mouth. I hid my face in my hands. How could I be embarrassed to admit that to a man who’d memorized every inch of my body?
“You’re…” I heard the strain in his tone as he processed this. When I finally dared to look at him, he stepped back into the shadows. After a moment in which he didn’t speak and I prayed I was about to wake up from this humiliating nightmare, he turned to the chair. With deliberate movements, he slid his jacket from his shoulders and laid it over the chair back. It was dim in the room, but I’d watched him do this a hundred times. He unknotted his tie and slid it free from his collar. He dropped it onto the abandoned suit coat. Then, he walked toward the nightstand, popping his cufflinks free one at a time.
“What are you doing?” I knew, but suddenly I wondered if I was dreaming.
He stalked toward me, unbuttoning his shirt as he came nearer, then tossing it to the floor.
“I can’t take care of everything. I can’t answer all your questions, but I can take care of that.”
“I didn’t mean…” I shook my head as my thoughts began to swim with the heady rush of his nearness.
“Shhh. This is what we’re good at, Poppet.” He drew his index finger down along my cheek, tracing my mouth and plucking my lower lip slightly. My mouth opened with expectation. “Tell me what you need. I can take care of you.”
In that simple, self-assured statement I heard what he was really saying. He needed this, too. He needed to show me he loved me the only way he thought he could. As much as I needed this, he needed something more from me. We needed each other. And maybe we were slipping into an old cycle, but I was tired of fighting it. The last time we’d been together, on the floor, it had been short and desperate. It’d been over too soon. I needed more. He needed more.
“I want to be what you need—in every way,” I added softly, feeling suddenly shy.
He stepped away, his eyes flashing on the surface with concern, but I saw what ran beneath it, unrestrained and dark. He’d been holding himself back for weeks. Maybe longer. We’d grown comfortable with our lovemaking. It had been too long since either of us had pushed the boundaries.
“Clara, I don’t need—”
“I do,” I cut him off. “I thought I needed to feel something other than this dull ache or this anger. Now I know what I really need, X. Release me.”
“I won’t take advantage of you.” He shook his head, but I could see the war raging behind those words.
“I’m giving myself to you. No lovemaking. No angry sex. No hiding. Take me into the darkness, X. I’m not afraid.” I brushed my hand down his face and he caught it. “No safe words. No lines. We’re past that.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” His blue eyes were haunted as he studied me.
“Yes, I do. I’m asking you to take control for a few minutes so I can have peace. I want to feel what only you make me feel. I want to be owned. I want to be your every fucking fantasy.” It was a dizzying revelation, even to me. There had been moments when he’d taken me to a place with nothing but sensation and sound and ache and want and freedom. A place that existed beyond pain and pleasure. A place only we could find.
“Fuck, Poppet.” His mouth met mine with a groan and we devoured each other. He pulled away, breathless, and tipped my chin up so my eyes met his, clearer and brighter than I’d ever seen them. “I’ll still stop if you ask me.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
“The only problem is that you’re still dressed,” he said in a low voice that made my core clench.
“What about you?” I asked, reaching for his pants, but he slapped my hand away.
“Strip,” he commanded. “If your cunt isn’t bare in sixty seconds, you’ll regret it. I can take you to the edge and keep you there for hours—and I promise I will enjoy every minute of it.”
Yes, please.
I slipped my dress over my head, thankful it was nothing more than a simple cotton number without time-consuming zippers. I wanted hours, but I’d prefer if they came with multiple orgasms. Alexander stayed away, watching as I unfastened my bra and dropped it on the floor. Wiggling my panties down, I kicked them free.
His thumb brushed thoughtfully over his mouth as he circled me, eye fucking every inch of my body.
“Come here.” He beckoned me to follow him with his index finger. My pulse sped up when he moved toward the bed. But instead of lifting me onto it, he picked up a pillow and placed it on the floor. “Kneel.”
He offered me a hand, and I allowed him to help me get on my knees.
“That’s a pretty Poppet,” he praised me, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “You’re so perfect—so fuckable. But you need more than that, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He gave me a wicked smile. “I’m going to make every inch of your skin sing, but first, you will show me you deserve it.”
I opened my mouth to protest, unwilling to wait
I shook my head quickly, my eyes turned up to stare at him. I could see the outline of his cock in his pants. I wanted to reach out and free it, but I didn’t dare.
“You will wait.” He shushed me gently when I whimpered. “Only for a moment, but try not to move.” He bent over and caressed my belly. “Unless…”
I understood what he was saying. Nothing mattered more than the baby. Not my needs or his. I’d handed him total control over me and he wouldn’t overlook that gift. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t dare brush them away. Alexander walked to the closet and I felt them slip down my cheeks. When he returned a moment later, he drew a breath in sharply.
“You are always gorgeous, but you are breathtaking when you cry. Not always, of course. But now? I’ve never seen you look so beautiful, because I know what you’re feeling. Happiness. Completion. This is right. I was always meant to own you.” He stepped before me and unfastened his pants. Taking out his cock, he massaged it before my eyes. “Suck my cock and show me those pretty tears. Show me how grateful you are for it—for us.”
I leaned forward, placing my palms on his thighs to steady myself. This wasn’t about getting off. He wouldn’t make it simple. He wanted an offering and I knew what I would receive in return. Drawing my tongue over the tip, he rewarded me with a growl. I wanted to tease him but I couldn’t stop myself from taking him entirely into my mouth. Looking up to him, I let my final control slip and the tears streamed down.
“Oh God, my cock belongs in your mouth, doesn’t it? Don’t answer, Poppet. You’ve been hungry. I need to feed you.” He rocked against my mouth, his taste mixing with the salt of my tears. I hollowed my cheeks, drawing him as deeply as I could, high on the pleasure I was giving him. Finally, he guided me away, his cock still hard. “I’m not ready yet.”
He held out his hands and I took them, pushing to my feet. I swayed slightly, feeling a bit drunk on the moment.
“You’ve been very good and now I’m going to give you what you asked for: release.” His head angled to my ear and he continued to whisper as his chest brushed over my nipples. “That’s not just about orgasms. Although you’ll have plenty of those. You want to forget—and we can—together.”
I swallowed as his mouth continued down to my breasts and covered my nipple with wet heat. His tongue circled the furl until it pebbled into a hard point. He moved to the next one before he stood up and studied it. “Such perfect tits. I might have to come worship them daily. Would you like that? Would you like me to fuck your tits with my mouth until you come?”
I nodded, wishing he would do that now.
“That’s not what today’s about, though. I’ve been saving some things. We’ve never needed them. Making love to you has never required many additions, but it’s time I take you into the dark. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Yes,” I answered without doubt.
Alexander licked his lips and took my hand. Leading me all the way to the bed, he pointed to a pile of pillows in the middle. “On your knees. You may hold those.”
He waited as I crawled onto the mattress, then oversaw my positioning until he was satisfied.
“I thought the point,” I began when he adjusted the pillow for the tenth time to support my stomach.
“Shh,” he cut me off harshly. “You have no opinion. Your only job is to be taken care of.”
I sighed, feeling a bit frustrated by his considerateness. Then, he brought out the rope.
“Did you feel that little thrill?” he asked as he set it on the bed next to the pillow. “I saw it pass through your eyes. You were worried that I was going to hold back, but I won’t. That doesn’t mean, however, that I can neglect my duty to protect you. You will be safe and loved through every moment of this.”
I nodded a little, letting go of any newfound resistance.
I hugged the pillow as he took the rope and wrapped it around one ankle. Then, I felt a slight tug as the rope pulled taut before he continued to the other ankle. He’d bound me to the bedposts, I was certain, though I couldn’t risk looking and messing up the exact positioning he insisted on. I felt his weight shift onto the bed behind me and then cool fingers trailing along my seam.
“Your cunt is so swollen,” he murmured. “You will never let it suffer this long again. Do you understand? Answer, Poppet.”
“Yes,” I whispered, fighting the urge to push against his touch. I wanted him to sooth the ache, not feed it.
“It’s hard wanting something and holding back.” He said, continuing to trace me. “I know. I’ve wanted you like this for so long. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. That’s why we never have gone into the dark together. That’s why I pretended I didn’t need it. That’s why I leashed the monster.”
He thought his darkness was a monster. He thought it scared me. But I’d fallen in love with the monster before I’d fallen for the man.
“Let him free.” Somehow I knew it was okay to speak if only to give him permission to shed this final mask—the one he’d worn so long.
“I need to see it. What your body looks like marked by me, but it won’t be like the time with the belt. You tried to control that and you weren’t ready. You were still scared.”
“I’m not scared anymore.”
The first smack stung. He’d spanked me before—playfully and forcefully, but this was different. Harder and driven by purpose. I bit the pillow determined not to cry out. His hand massaged the spot, dissipating the heat a little before a slap hit the other side of my ass. I sensed the difference. He’d found the same spot, spanking it exactly so that it stung across my entire rear. Again he massaged it away. He did this slowly, repeating it until I relaxed into the pillow, knowing what to expect: the rhythmic, measured force. Even as the heat built so much he couldn’t caress it away, I found myself slipping into another place. I felt each strike and heard each whispered praise.
“Good girl,” he said with reverence. “Strong girl.”
I was in a dream—on fire, burning and alive. Then suddenly the flame began to fade, extinguished by the soft, wet lap of his tongue.
“Ohhh,” I moaned, knowing it was okay, that he needed to hear it. A finger pushed inside me, curling and coaxing and I cried out into the pillow. All the sensations that had faded came rushing back. There was bone deep ache and shivers of promised pleasure and there was pain—and somehow together it had turned my entire body into a network of sensations that sang along my skin, just as he’d promised it would. The notes were building into a symphony and then the music stopped.
“Please,” I cried out, only to feel his body move over mine. He kissed my neck as he sank his cock inside me with one powerful thrust.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said as he stroked in and out. “I need you to come. I can’t hold it. Not now.”
There was a strain I’d never heard before and something about the vulnerability of it sent a powerful swell through me that shook my entire body with its force. When the final notes softened, Alexander groaned and slammed into me before pulling out. I felt the heat of his release on my still burning rear.
The afterglow was almost as good as the place his spanking had taken me. There was nothing but pure and total bliss. Gradually I became aware of the ropes loosening, followed by his strong arms massaging where they’d cut into my flesh. Then a warm, damp cloth cleaned the spot where he’d spilled himself. I felt him linger there. I could almost feel the shift in the room.
“There’s going to be a bruise,” he said flatly.
I breathed deeply and pushed myself up. “I know.”
“Clara, I’m—”
“Don’t you dare,” I stopped him, struggling to maneuver my pregnant belly and uninterested limbs. When I finally managed it, I found him with his head in his hands. Crawling to him, I sat beside him and moved his hands from his face.
“I went too far,” he began.
“No, you finally went far enough.” I pushed his arms down and attempted to climb in his lap. “Oh for fuck’s sake, help me.”
Despite himself he laughed, and whether he realized it or not, he’d never sounded more relaxed, even if he was beating himself up.
“This will all be easier in a few weeks,” I said. “When I no longer feel like I swallowed a bowling ball.”
“You would…” He stared at me in confusion.
“Of course. Why do you think I wouldn’t?” I stroked his cheek, wanting to offer him some of the comfort he’d given me.
“You told me once that you could never…lose control,” he reminded me.
I had told him that, but so much had changed. “And you told me that you didn’t need it. That you weren’t really a Dominant.”
“I could be anything you need me to be. I will be.”
“I need you to be open,” I whispered. “I need you to give me all of you.”
“I hurt you,” he said in a quiet voice. “I left marks.”
“You hurt me, but you didn’t harm me. I would have stopped you if it was too much. You set a boundary line for yourself that was miles ahead of where you needed to take me, X, and you’ve been standing and looking at the distance this whole time.” I understood that now. The anger, the frustration—he’d been trying to live up to some imagined standards. It didn’t excuse everything he’d done, but it explained more than I’d ever imagined.
“I didn’t want to need it. Not after I realized I loved you. Not after you told me you couldn’t. My responsibility as your partner—as a dominant—is to make you feel safe. I had to respect those limits.”
“I know, and thank you.” I kissed him softly. “You gave me the space I needed to heal. In case you haven’t noticed, I eat like a horse, because deep down I’ve always known even when you’re trying to lock me up from dangerous people that you’ll let me walk out the door. I’ve always known you respect me and my limits. I’ve always known that deep down you’re just a puppy dog.”
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