I soaked up his wistfulness. I thought the idea was a dream, not one that was attainable, however. He had a degree, he was a teacher. I was a college student who didn’t even know who I was. “That doesn’t seem like a smart business move on your part. I’m a huge liability.”
He snorted. “Are you kidding me? You’re smart and loyal. You’re dedicated and the strongest person I know. You’d only make whatever we did better. Don’t down yourself. I don’t like it.” He glared at me.
I squirmed. “Sorry.”
“I like this idea,” he said, ignoring my apology. “What could we do together?”
“Make a master and mistress clothing line?” I teased.
His eyes danced. “What would be our winter collection? The clothing’s typically revealing.”
I giggled. “Uh, wool panties.”
He frowned. “Doesn’t sound sexy in the slightest.”
“Sexy is all up here.” I tapped my temple. “Imagine it. Scratchy stiff underwear. It could at least be a punishment.”
His brows shot up. “You’re sadistic.”
I laughed, popping another macaroon into my mouth.
Mirth turned his deep brown eyes into warm torture devices. They were dripping chocolate all over my macaroons and turning my heart into mush. I wanted to knock the contents on the table aside and take him inside me with the bubble gum macaroon smearing on our bodies.
Our lattes seeping over the sides of the table.
Love burning on the tips of our tongues.
8. – Jaxon
When Miya smiled, pieces of me that didn’t think could enjoy beauty turned over and studied her. Every part of me thought she was created with beauty in mind. Her bright blue eyes were glittering and yet fearful. Her brown hair was in a bun, tendrils hanging down her face. Her lips were tender and puffy; I ached to feel them against mine.
She had a way of soothing my soreness. All over soreness that had nothing to do with physical ache. I had to make this work. Eat shitty tasting macaroon in a bakery beside teenage girls covertly snapping pictures of me. To keep her.
I had to keep her.
At least the coffee was good.
And she’d laughed a couple times.
She wanted a job.
To be her own boss.
I was both proud and utterly terrified.
As sick as it sounded, the more she relied on me the more she needed me around. What if the day came where she stood on her own two feet and didn’t need me to hold her hand to assure she wasn’t alone?
What would happen if she didn’t?
The idea that she would look at the girls beside her the way she had earlier for the rest of her life made me feel ill. She didn’t need to be like them. She had to be like herself.
Herself was enough.
She was everything.
Still, I’d rather have her all to my fucking self.
“All ready?” I asked, watching her rub her nonexistent belly.
She licked the foam from her lips and nodded. “Where are we going now?”
“You tell me.” She loved it. Loved the power.
“Let’s go for a walk. Like a normal couple.”
I barely managed to hide my cringe. “Sounds good,” I lied. I took her hand and walked us out to my car. I opened her door and then walked around front of mine. I turned the heater on when I spied her blowing on her hands, and then pulled out into the street.
She wanted to go for a walk. What she really wanted was to look at something pretty with me. I would indulge her. I would look at her pretty smile while she looked at pretty things. I drove us onto the highway and then got off at the river. I recalled a fishing spot my brothers, Kline and Jaymond, and I used to go fishing on the rare occasions we had the spare time. It was a bit of a walk, but I knew she’d appreciate the end.
I drove through the unmanned ranger tower and parked in an empty lot.
“Where are we going?” she asked, curious.
I got out without answering her, waiting for her to take my outstretched hand. She bit her lip excitedly, her cold fingers hanging on to mine for dear life. I loved her hand in mine.
I wished it was enough.
I wished I knew how to do this.
To be a man in love and not lose my fucking mind.
How did others do it? It wasn’t like I had anyone reliable to ask. All the men in my life were either like me or equally fucked up emotionally. I held her hand the way she held mine.
Our boots dug into the snow-laden path. It wasn’t snowing out here as much as it was in the city. I was thankful, glancing down at her cloth boots in displeasure. When we broke the edge of the trees, she gasped, letting my hand go to run to the edge of the Columbia River.
That time of year, it was breathtaking. The river was full of shards of ice and gray/blue water. Our breath puffed out in front of our faces, giving the entire scene an ethereal look. I was dreaming. On the edge of the Columbia River.
I couldn’t do this. Could I?
One look at her blinding smile and I knew I had no choice.
I would do it. Wear a smile when I wanted to scream. Hug her when I wanted to spank her. Let her go when I wanted to tie her up.
That last prospect made my cock hard. I’d love to tie her to the nearest tree and fuck her brains out with snow falling down around us.
I groaned, and she looked up at me curiously. I winked. She rolled her eyes and returned them to the river.
“It’s so pretty,” she whispered.
I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it as she continued to stare, struck, at the river. I sucked on her knuckle, savoring a speck of white chocolate still on her finger from when she’d fed herself. I brought her pinky into my mouth and sucked on it.
She pressed her thighs together, eyes on the river.
“I need inside of you,” I rumbled.
She gave me her eyes, and I stilled when I found them crackling and sparking too. “Right here?”
I stepped toward her. “Right on the edge of the river. So close we could fall in.”
She licked her tender lips. “That seems dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous.” I attacked her. Her puffy sweet lips were my undoing.
I lost all semblance of control. I handed it over to her. In that moment I didn’t want it. I wanted to lose it. Let it all go. Just feel what I wanted. Lust. Desire. Need. Hunger. She was my every filthy fucking want wrapped up in an innocent package.
She gasped into my mouth and threaded her fingers in my hair. I slipped my hands inside of her jacket and tore it off her body. Black buttons went flying into the forest and landed in the snow. I shoved it off her body. Then I tore her shirt over her head. Goosebumps immediately sprouted on her snow-white flesh and I kissed them. The top of her breasts. Her arms. Her shoulders.
I ripped at the button on her jeans and shoved them roughly, along with her little pink panties, down her thighs. I sunk to the ground in the snow and yanked off her boots, tossing them over my head. I flung her jeans and panties there too. I rose to my feet and turned her around. I undid her bra and pulled it off her arms. She was naked.
For me.
Her pink nipples were hard rocks. I lowered my head and pulled one into my mouth, sucking on her bud so hard she groaned, her spine arching.
“Jaxon,” she breathed, like a plea, like an admission.
In her plea I heard her truth. She’d never wanted to leave me. She just wanted me to be what she deserved.
I sucked on her nipple until I was sure it was as raw as her lips. Then I moved onto the other one, sucking and nipping at her puckered flesh. She mewled under my touch. Her head fell back, and she moaned into the falling snow. I reached up and pulled the tie in her hair out.
Her dark tresses fell down and hung there. I walked us back until we reached the banks. It was so cold she was shivering, but I didn’t think she felt the cold. I didn’t. I was on fire. I lay her on the edge on her back. I sank to my knees. I
freed my cock from my jeans.
Our eyes met.
She looked like she was on fire and drenched in ice at the same time. Pale skin red from the cold. Her hair splayed in the snow. She opened her arms for me, such a tender vulnerable gesture. I fell into her arms and crushed her lips with mine. She kept up. That was the beautiful part. She matched my rough kiss with roughness of her own.
Damn, I loved her so much. I was fucked. Matched.
Going down and didn’t mind that the impact would ruin me.
I found the slick lips of her wet pussy and wedged my cock between her folds. I stroked her up and down, getting my cock wet with her hot as fucking silk excitement. When I was coated, I eased the tip of my cock between her folds and pushed into her with one thrust. It was as deep and rough as I could go. I was fully seated inside of her.
She screamed out into the forest. I grinned into her neck. Her nails dug into my skull. Her hips trembled. I pulled out and thrust deeply into her once more. Her cunt muscles shivered around my cock, and her juices increased, leaving me slick with her desire.
She moaned unhindered into my neck.
I wanted to break her, so she’d be broken like me.
But that was wrong. She didn’t deserve to be broken.
I slowed my hips, and shoved my face into her neck, rocking into her with deep uprooting thrusts. Her pussy sucked me in, the perfect fit. She was the tightest woman I’d ever been inside. Even now, she needed to be warmed up. But there was something about doing it this way that made my blood catch fire. She cried out when I sped up once more, and her mewling spurred me on.
“Yes, Jaxon,” she hissed, her damp lips sliding across my jaw. “Fucking yes.”
“Watch your mouth,” I chastised.
She exhaled a laugh and her spine arched beneath me.
I reached over blindly and put my hand over her mouth. There was something about forcing her moans to stay inside that made her even sexier. She found other ways to tell me how good it felt. She lapped at my palm and rotated her hips to meet mine.
Yes, I thought, dunking myself in her.
I wanted more. I reached between us to find her sensitive nub. I pressed down with my thumb and she whimpered into my palm. It was an awkward position. To have my hand over her mouth. My finger toying with her clit. My hips meeting hers.
But it was perfect.
I could see her eyes as they danced with lust.
I could feel her clit harden and grow under my touch.
The harder I pressed my hand into her mouth, the wetter she grew.
I pinched her clit between my fingers and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. From deep inside, I felt her tight muscles constrict. Her stomach dipped. Her skin grew hotter. She mewled senselessly into my palm. She wasn’t hers anymore.
She was mine.
I let her clit go, let her mouth go, and planted my hands on either side of her head. I waited for her to meet my eyes, hers drunk and mine, and then I broke her fucking back. I fucked her as hard as I could on the bank of the Columbia River.
Snow fell down on us. Ice was in her hair. In my air. But heat was in our veins.
We had warmth as long as we had each other.
She cried into the air. Her cunt bared down on me. Her body trembled. Her entire soul orgasmed. She came all over my cock, and a moment later, I felt my hot seed fill her cervix. I emptied myself inside of her, marking her from the inside out.
She was fucking mine.
When her eyes finally opened and met mine, I saw it.
I’d just created a monster.
And she was the most beautiful monster I’d ever seen.
9. – Miya
My soul felt displaced.
Or maybe it felt different.
Cast into the air around me, rearranged and organic. When it reentered my body, it felt shiny and brand new.
Or maybe my soul was too broken to tell the difference between shattered beyond repair, and so far gone to still hope. I tried to push the thought from my mind, the threat that we were still traversing across unstable territory, but like a pest, it entered my thinking process and tried to take the magic from my high.
I lay splayed in the snow. My bones were melted honey. My brain was soup. My heart was pounding love into my veins at such a quick rate, I felt lightheaded. It was cold all around us, but the cold didn’t touch me; it was hot and burning. My orgasm still rippled through me, like a memory that didn’t want to leave.
Jaxon lay on top of me, breathing hard into my neck. His cock twitched inside my body. He’d been so deep, so rough, so perfectly himself; I hugged my arms around him. And then my legs. “Again,” I whispered.
He grinned into my neck. He reached behind us, took my hands, interlaced our fingers, and then pinned my arms above my head into the snow. He jerked his hips and every shred of pleasure I still had in me returned tenfold. Each stroke up his hips was like a new orgasm. I could hardly stand it.
He held my gaze the entire time. The dark that usually resided in them wasn’t there. They were smooth brown, deep, and breathtaking. I made sure he saw what I was feeling. Raw, unfiltered ecstasy.
“You fuck me so good,” I moaned.
He groaned, speeding up his hips.
“I love your cock, Jaxon.” I slid my tongue over his lips and gasped when he gave it to me harder.
“I love you,” I moaned, pleasure pooling so deeply in my groin I saw black spots behind my eyes.
“Never leave me,” he grunted, his sweat dripping down his temple.
“Never,” I promised from the bottom of my heart.
Every single thrust of his hips was damaging. He hit every single starving part inside of me, rubbing and stroking them, until I was crying out once more. Pleasure flooded my body and I gave up, shaking and losing myself in this orgasm. But I didn’t feel lost. I felt like if we kept fighting, things would slide into place. Some way.
My pussy was as swollen as my lips when he finally pulled out of me. I reached down to cup myself, smiling lethargically.
“I love you,” he growled, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of my face. His ragged breath fanned across my cheek. “Tell me you know that.”
“I know you love me.”
“Again.”
“You love me, and I know it.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.”
I giggled. “There’s someone who loves me, and it’s you, and I know it.”
He gave me a chuckle, and his hand reached out to find my hand. He threaded our fingers together. “Get dressed. You’re freezing.”
I tripped and stumbled my way back into my clothes. I tried to button my coat, and then sighed. It was no point. All my buttons lay in the snow. I shivered as we jogged through the trail. We’d been out there long enough for the sun to start to set. It was almost eight that night when we made it back into his Lexus. He cranked the heater up.
When we drove by a for sale sign on a house, he turned to me. “It would be easier to move than it would be to try living in that house.”
I wasn’t ready to move just yet. I loved his house. It was secluded and special. A fairytale hideout in the forest. “Maybe.”
“Unless you’d rather stay. I loved the house when I bought it. There’s just so much baggage in there. You’re not the only submissive I had there,” he reminded me.
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth before I said something mean. “It’s not really up to me. I’m unemployed.”
“Sure, it is. I want to make you happy.” He took my hand. “You want to do something else?”
“Food. Sex. What else is there?”
He smirked. “Let’s do something crazy.”
“Like what?” A grin slowly overtook my lips. “Talk loudly in the library?”
He faked gasping. “I’m not that brave. The librarian might spank me with her ruler.”
I snorted. “You’d like it.”
He guffawed. “You’re probably right.” And then
he said, “Do regular boyfriends spank their girlfriends?” He jutted his lower lip out and appeared innocent.
I did too but shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re my only boyfriend.”
“I think they do. Maybe not as hard, but kinky sex can still be normal. You know any Normal’s we could ask?”
“Nope. Sorry. I only hang out with sex freaks like you.” I squirmed in my seat. “I think my butt has frost bite.”
The sound of his deep laugh was a special music note I’d never heard played before. A unique chord only my heart appreciated. I wanted to hear it again and again. Play it on repeat until it was stuck in my head forever.
“I’ll take care of your frosty ass later. I don’t want to stop the momentum,” he revealed, smile fading like he’d only given me one because he thought that’s what I wanted. The same way I let him spank me. Maybe our problem lay more in trying to be something we weren’t; I felt deflated. “If we stop, and look around, and my mind realizes I’ve turned my back to it, it will fuck this up. Think of something we could do together, Miya. Before we explode.”
It was still early. It wasn’t too late and if we were different people, the options would be endless. I spied a group of women closer to my age, their dresses short in the cold, their breaths haloed by laughter. They looked like they’re heading somewhere fun; I spied the overhead sign for a bar called Bottomless, my suspicions confirmed.
I’m reminded, yet again, that I’m only nineteen, dating a much older man. I’m demanding things from him, and he’s coaxing things out of me. We make so much sense together. In my soul, in my heart. On paper, we don’t add up. I don’t need that paper then. I only need the one with our initials scrawled on it and his rough words. “I don’t want to be a sexual Dominant anymore.”
“What would you be doing when you were my age?”
It’s the wrong question to ask.
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