Reveal Me

by Sappharia Mayer

  “You’ve got too many clothes on, Mr. Gabriel,” I say and turn to step into the shower.

  The warm water runs against my tight muscles. Behind me, I hear Reece step into the shower.

  “Was that an edge of impertinence I heard?” he asks against my ear.

  “Oh, whatever could you mean?” The deep Southern accent is foreign on my tongue, but it makes me smile.

  “So this is how you’re going to play it.”

  His fingers snake through my hair. My breath stutters. His fist tightens, and I moan. With one smooth motion, he spins me around until I face him, his hand still tangled in my hair. The ferocity of heat in his eyes matches my own. My head pulls back, forcing my lips to part. Then his mouth is on mine. Commanding, probing, and controlling. Each movement demands I open to him.

  Reece releases his grip.

  “Turn around and place your hands on the shower wall.” His voice is gravelly.

  I pause and look at him.

  “When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed immediately and without question.”

  He slaps the side of my thigh. The wet skin increases the pain, and I cry out.

  “When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed,” he growls. My heart flutters. I’m caught between wanting to challenge him and giving in to the shift I feel under his piercing stare.

  “Now, Atlas.”

  His firm command turns my core molten. I turn around, staring at the marble tile, and place my hands on it.

  Behind me I hear him move. His touch is slick with shower gel. There’s nothing rushed in his movements. Each one explores every curve and hollow of my body, igniting my skin.

  “Spread your legs.” He doesn’t wait for me to decide, nudging them apart with his foot.

  His hand clamps down over my pussy. My ass pushes back into his groin, and I groan. The mix of pain and pleasure shoots through me. The faint tear of foil settles around me and I look back. A sharp smack rings out against my ass.

  “Eyes front.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The last vestige of my defenses fall. My traitorous body begs him to take what he needs.

  He wraps an arm around my waist and fists my hair with the other. His cock nudges the edge of my entrance.

  “I won’t be gentle.”

  “Prove it.” The last of my challenge pushes across my lips.

  I need to know he can take as good as he gives. That no matter how much he loves me, the edge won’t dull. Not only can he keep me safe from the world, he can push me through the deepest darkness.

  His cock breaches the edge of my entrance. My muscles spasm and my hands drop from the wall.

  “Please,” I beg him. I need to feel his control.

  “Hands on the wall,” he snaps.

  My hands fly back into position.

  He growls behind me and shoves in hard. I gasp at the sudden pain and pleasure. Behind me, Reece freezes in place, buried deep, his arm around my waist.

  I catch my breath as he eases out of me. Then plows back in again.

  Exquisite pleasure mixes with the pain of my muscles and I moan. There is nothing gentle about the way he moves. Each stroke pounds into me.

  Fingers splay against the cool tile. My arms shake in an effort to hold me up. The fatigued muscles scream out, but I ignore them and focus only on the relentless pounding. I arch and open, silently begging for more. Everything else melts away.

  Here I am his. There’s nothing more I need to do other than obey. Here the world lifts off my shoulders and there’s only one focus. I drown in the sensation, his hard cock demanding more from my body.

  My muscles clamp down.

  “Don’t you dare come,” he growls against my ear.

  Weeks of tension sit right on the edge. My body demands release. I hold the edge as long as I can until it slips through my grasp. Tight muscles clamp down on his cock and I hear him groan. A low moan erupts from somewhere in the depths of my soul as the orgasm crashes across me.

  He reaches around and slaps my clit hard. The pain pushes me back across the abyss as the waves of pleasure take me across it.

  Reece grips my hips hard and slams into me.

  “Next time, you will ask permission,” he says through clenched teeth. It makes me happy that I’m not the only one struggling. I hear him curse softly before impaling me. The warmth of his orgasm pulls into me through the condom. Aftershocks race through my body. My leg muscles fail, and I start to collapse.

  His strong arms catch me, pulling my body into his. Sharp pain radiates through my shoulder as he bites hard into it. I cry out.

  “Maybe next time you’ll remember your place.”

  The water runs down our intertwined bodies as we pant to catch our breaths.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Not asking.”

  I feel lips smile across my shoulder.

  “I’m not.”

  He places kisses down my back, then returns to the apex of my spine and nips it.

  Tears spring to my eyes. My body trembles.

  Reece eases out of me as his arm wraps around me and helps me out of the shower. He engulfs me in a giant bath sheet and pulls the ends together. I sob in a shuddered release. He sweeps me into his arms and steps out of the shower.

  “I told you pleasure was your undoing. Welcome home, pet.”

  Wordlessly, I lay my head on his shoulder. The world is calm. Hope springs forward in the void. In this place I believe I can be all the things my world demands as long as he’s there with me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I awake with a start and sit upright in bed. My mind lingers in a fuzzy, thick fog. Across the room, Reece’s eyes linger on me, his tablet lit up in his lap.

  “Welcome back, pet.” He smiles. “If you keep looking at me like that, I'll come over there and show you what round two feels like.”

  “Promises, promises,” I drawl.

  Reece chuckles and sets his tablet on the side table. His frame easily unfolds from the chair, and he prowls toward the bed.

  My stomach tightens with anticipation as a shudder races through my body, and I suck in a quivering breath. His broad smile fills in voids I didn’t know existed. When he reaches the bed, he wraps his hands around my wrists and pulls me off the bed toward him. His mouth nuzzles against my ear. Warm breath wafts over the column of my neck.

  “I can smell your arousal, pet.” Teeth nip across the flesh of my throat and he releases my wrist. “It’s intoxicating.”

  Under his touch I shiver. Inhaling a slow breath, I attempt to calm the rapid heartbeat and igniting flames racing through me.

  I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to beg for his touch.

  Reece narrows his lust-filled eyes and stares down at me. Time slips into a lethargic pace. Around me, everything moves in slow motion. An unfamiliar warmth fills me. A languid peace covers me like a thick blanket of serenity. There is no fear in the recess and no clutter clouds my mind. Placid tranquility envelops me.

  His arms wrap possessively around me as my head lolls against his shoulder.

  A soft sigh escapes my lips. I close my eyes, savoring the touch of his strong hands sliding effortlessly across my back.

  With a feral growl, his hand slides into my hair, gripping it. His lips slant over mine as his tongue plunges into my mouth in a demanding, urgent kiss. Greedily, I take everything he gives, a moan answering him. His hard cock presses against his pants. The fabric scrapes roughly against my thigh.

  I wait in anticipation for his next move.

  With a soft sigh, Reece hugs me to his chest.

  “Please don’t stop,” I moan into his shoulder.

  “Impatient as always.” He chuckles. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  Pushing away from me, he smiles.

  “You are behind on your writing and I need to get work done, although you are far more tempting. Besides, lessons in patience are good for you.” He smiles. “You’ll
find everything you need on the desk. Now get to work. I expect to see your thoughts when I am done with my own issues.”

  He kisses me lightly on the forehead and lets me go. I watch as he picks up his tablet and walks out of the room without a backward glance. My body hums with a palpable current as I watch his tight ass move through the doorway.

  My thoughts are scattered as I walk to the closet. I tug a pair of navy pants and a button-up shirt from the hanger, dressing as I move around the room. I let my mind wander on what I need to write. The words don’t matter, but the sheer act of putting them to a page is a necessary practice. The last few months made it difficult to focus enough to even comprehend the effort. Now, as the world finds calm in the storm's eye, it is time to take the reins back under my control. Reece was right: writing was a perfect place to start.

  He mentioned the fact my writing tools would be air gapped. That means no research or internet activities. I nod to myself in resignation of the lack of distractions and make my way to the desk.

  A long silver-tipped feather fountain pen sits regally in its silver pen holder. Beside it, black, blue, and red inks sit in their bottles, neatly stacked linen paper between them. My eyebrows furrow at the sight. The elegant writing desk holds no drawers save one to the left. I rip it open, knowing this has to be a joke. Inside sits a small envelope with my name neatly written across it.

  Picking it up, I pull the note from the envelope.

  “You will find everything you need to write. I’ve ensured the best network security measures available. All of your supplies are air gapped by definition:

  Air gap—physically isolated from unsecured networks and electrically disconnected (with a conceptual air gap) from all other networks.

  I’ve taken the liberty to ensure you have ample supplies for fonts, color changes and the ability to save documents or delete them and look forward to reading the end product.

  ~R”

  I stare at the paper and pen set in disbelief. How can I possibly produce anything out of this ridiculous situation? Doesn’t he know how much effort it takes to write in the first place and now he wants to hamper me with these primitive tools? Internally I rage.

  My hands brace against the edge of the desk, the muscles in my body tensing and relaxing in time with my breathing. With a huff, I move the chair and sit down.

  With a deep sigh, I move the stack of papers to the back of the desk and place a single sheet across the ink blotter. The movement has a ritualistic air about it. Removing the top from the black ink, I move it to the top middle of the writing space, place the paper on an angle and pick up the feather pen. Its balanced weight leans against my hand as I stare at the paper.

  For a long moment, I stare at the blank page, willing words to form. Blankness shutters against my mind, but I dip the pen in the well anyway, then settle the tip against the paper. As if by magic, my mind opens and the pen moves across the page. The scratch of the nib against the linen paper is meditative. Within a few strokes, I refill the tip and continue the process. Words pour across the page. Fears, frustrations, and aggravation find a home as they embed into the linen. A feeling of accomplishment fills in as they pour out.

  Page after page fills and I get lost in the process. My entire focus is centered on the process of pen and ink to communicate to no one but self. When my hand cramps, I stand up to stretch, surprised to see darkness outside my window.

  “Productive day?” Reece’s voice startles me. On the desk, a large stack of papers lies strewn. “Looks like I have quite a bit of reading to catch up on.”

  He nods toward the papers. “But right now, I want to feed you dinner.”

  “Feed me dinner?” Hesitation fills my voice.

  “Yes. Now come.”

  The words run through me. For hours I’ve put words together on a page. Maybe I am being hypersensitive to syntax. Peace shatters as thoughts shove their way forward, each one evaluating the words, hesitating, weighing them through all my lenses and starting over. I frown at the flood of emotions and thoughts, agonizing over each and every one.

  He leads us through the house to the terrace. We step down to the sunken seating area. The blue and red flames of the fire pit dance in the soft sea breeze scented with brine and herbs.

  Beside me, Reece clears his throat.

  The sound rips me from the sudden chaos of my thoughts. A hot blush runs over my cheeks. I look up into his gleaming eyes.

  “Overthinking as usual, pet?” The corners of his mouth turn up as he smiles down at me.

  “Busted.”

  He chuckles and wraps his arms around me. Here, nestled in the protective cage of his arms, I am safe. His gentle encouragement worked wonders on my battered confidence. Each step pushes me closer to the edge of my own world. It is a heady mixture of soft tenderness mixed with intoxicating demand. He was the missing piece in the mass duplicity of my world.

  “Strip.” The command is soft but no less demanding against the backdrop of the whispering waves.

  He pushes me away and walks towards the long couch for a better view.

  Torchlight highlights and shadows me. My hands shake with need and my fingers fumble down the buttons of my shirt. His gaze openly roams my body as I strip for him. It is like I can feel his bold stare rake against my skin in an open promise.

  Where his gaze lingers, it ignites something in me I thought long dead. The wind stirs the waves of his hair, lifting the collar of his linen shirt against his jaw. His eyes narrow with each move of my hand, lashes meshing at the corners. I burn the image into my memory, the hard male contrasting with the soft white linen sculpting his body. A mix of demand and concern pushes me to the edge, ready to make everything right. With a deep breath, I steel myself for what he might have planned. One by one, the garments fall onto the terrace until I stand naked before him.

  The breeze caresses my body like invisible fingers. It moves with the rise and fall of the sea as it runs across my curves. In response, my nipples pebble under the ghostly touch. Lust burns away the last of the internal chaos.

  “Come.”

  Anticipation pulses through me as I move toward him until I stand in front of him.

  “Hands behind your back.”

  My arms move until they cross behind my back. Reece stands and moves behind me, lashing my wrists firmly with a silk scarf. I luxuriate in the sweet sensation of being bound before him.

  With an effortless grace, he moves back to the couch. Picking up a glass of ruby-colored wine, he drinks from it and appraises my body, sending shivers of awareness up and down my spine.

  “Kneel.” He points to the pillow on the deck between his legs.

  With long unpracticed movements, I fold myself until my knees settle under me. My eyes fall to the floor. Every muscle in my body tenses with expectation and memories.

  “Lean forward.” The brisk command causes my head to jerk up.

  The mask envelops my eyes. Darkness descends, blotting out all of the light. A hand pushes me back to settle against my heels.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My ears strain for sound in the velvety darkness. The breeze off the water brushes through my hair, causing a shiver. Anticipation hovers on the edge of restraint. As I kneel at his feet, naked, bound and blindfolded, vulnerability and desire race through me.

  The click of footsteps vibrates across the terrace, pausing suddenly as they step into the sitting area. A possessive hand lies against my shoulder. Dishes clang against one another, disturbing the serene night as the tray settles on the table to my left.

  “Thank you, Timothy,” Reece says above me.

  “Sir.”

  The footsteps are much slower as he leaves than when he arrived.

  “Calm yourself, pet. There’s nothing here out of my control.” A soothing hand brushes against my sensitive skin.

  Above me, dishes clink together and draw my attention.

  “Open.” His finger brushes against my lip, and I open to him.

/>   A warm cup presses against my mouth. The strong and tangy liquid flows over my parted lips. I savor each drop until the cup is removed.

  Giving up this much control headily combines excitement and terror. For every bite I must trust him. With my body so vulnerably open, I must trust him.

  His finger brushes against my bottom lip without a word. My mouth drops open in response. A garlicky aroma engulfs me, and I sink my teeth into the crusty thick bread. A moan of appreciation breaks the silence. When I swallow, his finger signals me again as the cool edge of the wine glass presses against my mouth. The bittersweet liquid melds in a perfect pairing with the garlic.

  I’m lost in the bliss of the experience. Over and over, his finger softly signals me, and a new taste erupts across my tongue.

  Sweet fruit juices run down my chin when the grilled pineapple explodes as I bite into it. Warmth radiates around me as he licks the errant juices away until his mouth owns mine. A breath catches in my throat. Fire races through me, straight to my core.

  Reece pulls back, cupping my face.

  “Still hungry?” His voice is hoarse with need.

  “Yes. Please let me taste you.” I groan and pull against the bonds on my wrists.

  The words hang in the air. Above me, he stands, his thighs grazing against my shoulders. He moves with controlled impatience and settles back down on the couch.

  His fingers knot in my hair and pull me forward. A finger runs across my lip and my mouth opens to engulf the soft tip of his cock. I lick away the salty fluid. A moan escapes against his rigid cock and his hand tightens in my hair.

  With confidence, I take him farther into my mouth and work my tongue around the head in a steady rhythm. Under the sensitive tip, my tongue flattens, and he bucks forward with a growl.

  I pause until he stills. A smile curls around my lips as I continue to work down his thick shaft in rasping stokes. I continue to move my mouth and lips, flicking his cock with my tongue and drawing back. Drawing in a deep breath, I exhale, letting the heat rush out in waves. His hips thrust, forcing his cock deeper into my mouth.