I didn’t know how to respond, so I turned my head away from him and lifted my nose in the air.
He laughed. “I love your spunk, my pet.”
“I’m not your pet!” I spat.
“Oh yes you are.” He slid the knife down the front of my blouse and it fell aside in two pieces. Leaning close to my ear he whispered, “You’ll always be my pet.”
I closed my eyes, trying to wish all this away. I wanted to be home or at my hotel, away from all this craziness. No, a voice in the back of my head said. You want to be curled up in his arms. You want for him never to have lied to you. You want to be with him, preparing to raise this baby with him.
I shook my head at the thought. That could never be. What was done was done, no matter how much I wanted it to be different.
“Quentin, this is crazy. You need to stop this nonsense and take me back to the hotel.”
He laughed. “Nonsense, huh? I’m afraid you’re confused about who’s in charge here.” With the tip of the knife he traced a line from my neck down my décolletage until he hooked it under my bra between my breasts and sliced it open. I couldn’t help but moan when he cut the straps over my shoulders so the now worthless pieces of fabric fell to the floor, leaving my torso completely exposed.
“Nice. I see pregnancy has made your breasts even fuller,” he said, licking his lips suggestively. “These are the kinds of changes I should really be around to enjoy. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I ignored his question. “What are you going to do to me?” My teeth chattered as I spoke.
“I intend to remind you of your place.”
I didn’t have to ask what place he meant. He wanted to remind me what it was like to be his submissive, and much to my dismay, a part of me wanted that as well.
The cool air in the room made my nipples hard, which I found humiliating under the circumstances.
“Please, Quentin. Think of the baby,” I pleaded, hoping that would make him feel guilty.
Unfortunately that plan backfired when he said, “I’m sorry, Sophie, but I believe I’m the only one thinking about our child. What’s best is for you to let your baby’s father back into his life. You need to let me take care of you. Let me love and protect you both. How dare you question my motives? I simply want to do the right thing and reunite our little family. It is you who needs to think of our child.”
His words stung, because I feared there was truth to them. Was I sacrificing the happiness of my child because I was afraid of getting hurt again? Did that make me a bad mother? No. I was only trying to protect my child from this man, who was clearly untrustworthy and exhibiting poor judgment by keeping me here. Not the kind of man you want raising your child.
He leaned over and tweaked one of my hard little buds, and I struggled not to react.
Not having gotten the response he’d been looking for, he knelt at my feet and began to massage my breasts with his hands, his lips encircling one, his tongue whipping me into a feverish state of desire.
“My God, Sophie, you’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” he crooned and I tugged at my restraints, my desire to touch him overwhelming me.
My body’s needs were starting to win the battle over my mind, and I railed at myself for even considering giving in to him. I hadn’t been sexually active since I found out I was pregnant. I hadn’t opened any of Quentin’s emails. It hadn’t been difficult, as tired as I’d been and with the lack of a partner, but the more he played with me, the more I understood what I’d been reading—that pregnancy hormones made you hornier than usual. Now it seemed my body was on the verge of betraying me.
He stood up, and mourning the loss of his mouth on me, I wriggled in my chair.
“Stay here.” He stepped to the other side of the room to retrieve something, and I wanted to growl at his obnoxious command. Where else could I go?
He returned with his trusty black crop. “I’m going to offer you a combination of pleasure and pain until you give in and agree to be my submissive for the next forty …” He looked at his watch. “Forty-six hours. Then I shall let you go, and you can make your own decisions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you will stay with me for forty-six hours, and after that if you want to leave you may leave.”
“Can I use my safeword?”
“Of course.”
The flat end of the crop descended on my breast, and I exhaled loudly. God help me, I’d missed this.
Fwap! Another swat landed on my other breast. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation.
The more times he smacked my skin with his toy, the further I fell under his spell.
Finally, when my chest burned like the glowing coals at the bottom of a fireplace, he stopped.
“Let’s see how that pussy of yours is liking this. Do you think it’s nice and wet for me?”
He pulled out the knife again and began to cut my skirt in half. It must have been taking too long, because after a couple of minutes, he took both sides and ripped the garment apart. I whimpered, nervous at the aggressive way he was handling me.
“Do you want to use your safeword?”
I thought about it. My brain told me I should. That I should run the other way from this overbearing, controlling man I was afraid to trust. But my body overruled my mind, and as I sat there trembling with lust, I shook my head.
“Good, because you belong to me.” With that he ripped my panties, leaving the whole of me exposed. “Open your legs.”
“Quentin,” I started …
“Open them!”
Squeezing my eyes shut I did as he asked. And while it was exhilarating to be back here, in this vulnerable, wildly aroused state, I was also petrified what this would mean, me giving in to him like this.
“Good girl.” He knelt between my legs, bringing his head close to my crotch, inspecting the very core of me. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I wondered if I would ever cease to feel embarrassed by these inspections.
He opened my lips with his fingers, spreading me wide. “Nice and swollen. Pregnancy seems to be agreeing with you.” Dipping a finger inside me, he curled it up against my G-spot and massaged that magical spot until he had me writhing in my chair, panting for more.
Then he stopped.
“Damn, it’s been too long. I’ve dreamed of you every night, Sophie. Thought of nothing besides finding you and claiming you for my own. If I untie you, will you promise to stay?”
I nodded helplessly. There was no way I had the strength of will to run away from him now. He’d worked me into such a state that I needed him, craved him fulfilling my desires in the way only he knew how.
“You want to stay?” he asked. “Convince me. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to dominate me.” My mind was a blur, and that was the only thing that was clear to me. I wanted him. Wanted to be his submissive more than anything.
He stood behind me and cut away the rope with his knife then moved in front of me. “Undress me.”
Somehow he always knew how to put me in my place. Not only was I to give my body over to him, but I was to aid him in the process. Swallowing my pride, I lowered my eyes and mumbled, “Yes, Sir” and went to work unbuttoning his shirt.
When I’d finished I pushed it off his shoulders, revealing the incredibly cut pectoral and abdominal muscles he worked so hard for. It was all I could do not to lean over and flick my tongue over the sensuous ridges, but I needed permission to do that, and I was too proud in that moment to ask for the privilege.
“Now the pants.”
The belt had to go first, so I unfastened it and began to pull it from the loops when he stopped me and pulled it out himself, saying, “I’m going to hold on to this for later.”
My knees grew weak. A belt spanking was something we both usually enjoyed. It was one of the harsher things he put me through, but it usually took me to that la-la-land they called subspace so I endured it with pleasure.
The t
op button of his jeans sprang open and I tugged at his zipper, my hand brushing past the nest of hair that lay just on the other side of his underwear.
“Take out my cock.”
A shiver danced down my spine as I slid my palm under the elastic band and wrapped my fingers around his erection. God, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him until I felt him growing and twitching in my grasp. He pushed down his pants and stepped out of them, me holding on to him the entire time.
“Good. Now show me you know how to submit to your Dom. Get on your knees, and open that whore mouth for me to use.”
As I fell to my knees, it thrilled me to hear him use that dirty mouth of his that inflamed my desire so thoroughly. Since I’d become the future mother to his child, I feared he would treat me differently, and I smiled to find that he was still happy to verbally degrade me in that way that so totally released my inhibitions and allowed me to embrace my wanton side.
“Lick that pre-cum bitch,” he ordered.
With the tip of my tongue I captured the clear drops that beaded up on the head of his penis. Tasting him after all this time filled me with a sense of joy that took me by surprise.
Unhinging my jaw, I parted my lips, and he pushed the head of his cock into my mouth. Grabbing a handful of my hair he pushed and pulled against my face, while I licked and sucked him like the most delightful lollipop.
For balance I rested my hands on his thighs, reveling in the feel of his strong muscles under my palms.
“Hands behind your back.”
I fought to speak the next time he drew his hips back. “But Sir, I get so tired these days …”
He stilled for a moment then said, “I understand. Then you may rest your hands on my legs.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said, opening my mouth to take him again.
Holding me by my cheeks, he entered my lips again, but withdrew after a few strokes.
Confused, I gazed up at him.
“Darling girl, I have missed you so much,” he said helping me to my feet. “Put your arms around my neck.”
I did, and he lifted me with his hands, clutching my bottom. My legs naturally wrapped themselves around his waist, and he carried me to what I hoped was a bedroom. Unable to suppress my curiosity, I asked, “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to bed where I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop. And then I’m going to fuck you some more.”
18
Quentin
As much as I wanted to tie her up, whip her with my belt, do despicable things to that delicate body of hers, Sophie was pregnant and I hesitated to do anything that could even remotely hurt my child. Not to mention that none of those desires outweighed my compulsion to reclaim her as mine.
After I carried her to the master bedroom of the house I’d rented just for the occasion, I positioned her on her back on the king-sized bed. “Arms over your head and spread those legs.”
She complied eagerly, and I took her in, a feast for my eyes. It was true that her breasts had swelled, her waist was a little thicker, though it was too early to see more than a hint of where the baby was. The folds of her cunt had plumped as her body prepared to bring another life into the world. Overall, she looked as ripe as a peach—ready to be plucked. I imagined munching on her, sticky juices running down my chin.
I looked down to see her pussy glistening with her arousal, the tips of her breasts formed hard little points, her eyes half closed in lust, and my cock grew so hard I wondered if it could snap. I felt a tightening in my balls, and I bit the inside of my lip. Fuck! I couldn’t wait any longer. I climbed onto the bed, settled myself between her legs and pushed between those blessed folds.
She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around me, like she was drowning and I might be the one thing that could save her.
I captured her mouth, forced myself deeper inside her, swirling around, searching for the connection we’d lost. The one I so desperately needed to regain.
The sensation of being inside Sophie was like nothing else. Her walls clenched around me, enveloping me in the most intimate dance imaginable. Her cunt was mine, and every time she gave it to me, it renewed my belief that everything would be right in the world. She belonged to me again, and my sense of right in the world was restored.
She did that for me.
Nothing else did.
I had to make her see—I needed her on every level.
But for now, I returned my focus to fucking her. Kicking my hips and abs into overdrive, I increased the pace. I fucked her faster. Harder. Until I could feel myself getting close. When I looked down, I saw Sophie’s face contorted in ecstasy. With each thrust her eyelids fluttered open, and she wore an expression that told of pure bliss. I bent my head, took her breast in my mouth, and bit down gently on her tender nipple. Her entire body squirmed under me, and she cried out my name.
“Quentin,” she screamed. “Oh my God, Quentin!” It had been so long since I’d heard that.
I pumped my hips a few more times, before I ejaculated inside her. When I finally stopped moving, I hovered over her, wishing I could stay there forever.
“I love you,” I whispered.
I waited and waited as I held her tight, but she didn’t say it back.
19
Sophie
Once I resigned myself to spending two days in this house with Quentin, and honestly once he fucked the daylights out of me—I began to relax. I was almost enjoying myself.
Almost.
“So, tell me, Sophie—what have you been doing with yourself? School’s out … I’m sure you haven’t been lonely. Who have you been spending time with?” Quentin asked that evening over dinner.
He’d prepared his usual—steaks, baked potatoes, and salad. His repertoire wasn’t wide, but his food was tasty. But every time I ate this meal with him, I remembered what he’d once made me do with a cucumber.
“Are you asking if I’m dating anyone?” The notion seems incredibly foreign. I’d tried to find even a piece of what he and I shared together, but it only made me realize how unique and precious our connection was. Besides, after the past few hours together, it seemed like sacrilege to even bring up other men.
“I am.” He speared a piece of meat with his fork and put it in his mouth.
“Not really.”
“That’s vague. Are you avoiding the question?”
“No.” I sighed then gave him a brief account of my experience trying to connect with another Dom. I told him of the guy who wanted me to blow him in his car, and the one who wouldn’t meet me in public.
“That sounds horrible. It infuriates me when Doms use their power to coerce women or treat them without respect. So many men think being a Dom gives them a license to abuse women. Pisses me off,” he growled.
“You’re right that some of them are abusive. I don’t think they get the appeal.”
“No, they don’t.”
“What about you?” I gulped. “Did you find a new sub?” My stomach dropped, and I wished I hadn’t asked the question. It had been an impulsive instinct to ask. Like when someone asks how you’re doing and you tell them fine and ask how they’re doing. It’s reflexive. But in this case, I didn’t really want to know. Quentin had spent so much time during the last couple of months trying to win me back that I’d assumed he’d only been interested in me. As a teacher, I should have known better than to assume.
“No,” he said, and I breathed deeply. Thank God. I didn’t know if I could handle the jealousy with everything else. My hormones might have me scratching the girl’s eyes out. Wow. That wasn’t like me. Pregnancy was like that. Some days I didn’t recognize myself. Emotions all over the place. Waking up drooling from naps I hadn’t meant to take in the middle of the day. Ankles the size of The Rock’s biceps. Breasts so tender and sore they felt feverish.
“But I did start a podcast.”
“A podcast? About what?”
“Like a D/s play session, but one-sided. Me dominati
ng my audience, I guess. Whoever’s listening.” He shrugged.
“You did not!” I was at once impressed and jealous. His industriousness was to be applauded, but I hated to think of other women getting off on his commands.
He nodded. “I did,” he said and took another bite of food.
“How many people listen to it?” The idea of the man I loved, the man I was about to have a child with, dominating random women over whatever media while they tortured and pleasured themselves to the sound of his voice—that was going to take some getting used to. My initial response was nausea. But then, nausea was my response to everything these days. This was going to require some processing.
“I only did it the once, and I actually never posted it.”
Whew!
“So who has heard it?”
“Just me.”
“I’d like to hear it.” I didn’t want to admit how much.
He stared at me like I was the only woman who had ever existed. “Thank you, Sophie. When I was preparing my script, I couldn’t remember what I’d said to the other subs I had before you. And once I’d completed it, I hated how it sounded. Plus, I think, in the back of my mind, I knew that you were the only submissive I wanted. It was just an idea I had. A way to get my sexual needs met without really having to connect with anyone else.”
“So you were going to dominate, essentially boss your audience around, and never even connect with them.”
“Sounds misogynistic, doesn’t it?”
“Kinda.”
“I never said I wasn’t fucked up.”
We both laughed.
“Here, you have some dressing …” He pointed at the corner of his mouth to show me where. I blotted my mouth with a napkin.
“Other side,” he said, and I blotted the other side.
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