“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “That, and the time factor. I can’t finish a degree in a short amount of time.”
“Back to our contract, are we?” he said in a tight, controlled tone. “Stay married to me, Nyxie. Can’t you see how advantageous it would be? You can stay in school as long as it takes to get the degree you want. We can have a couple of kids of our own while you get your education. By the time you’re ready to reenter the workforce, the kids will be old enough to start school. Think of the example you’ll be setting for Cody and your nieces.”
A small sigh escaped her lips. He knew her weakness and it was not beneath him to use it against her either. Her eyes closed and she shifted her position slightly to get more comfortable to go back to sleep.
“I need time to think about it.”
“Think about taking that birth-control implant out of your arm too.”
Her eyes popped open and she wrenched her neck around to look at him. “Hoping to knock me up?”
“Not necessarily. If I’d known you hadn’t been getting your period, I wouldn’t have asked Emily to insert it. As much as you sit with Cody, I’m worried about the increased chance of blood clots. We can use condoms if you don’t want to live dangerously.”
She leaned into his chest. “You’re always so impulsive that….”
“And you’re always so cautious.”
“You think if I get pregnant, I won’t have any choice but to stay with you.”
“This is the twenty-first century, Nyxie. No one gets married, or stays married because of a baby. However, it will ensure that you are taken care of until the child turns eighteen.”
“I’m not helpless. I’ve been providing for my family since I was a teenager.”
He tightened his hold on her as he wished he could have changed her past. If only he had known what she was going through, he could have helped. Once he reached his majority and he came into his inheritance, he could have arranged for Junior to pay her bills. “If you get pregnant, I would sign over the title to your townhouse.”
“Declan, stop. You can’t bribe me into being married to you, or having your kids either. It’s something I have to work out on my own.”
“But you’re thinking about staying married?”
“I barely think of anything else.”
Nuzzling his face into her hair, he smiled, knowing she had not completely dismissed the idea of staying married. He loved holding her in his arms and never wanted to let her go. The way she could make his mood soar one minute, then turn around and make him miserable the next, drove him nuts. If she’d just submit in every way, they could both be happy. She had to know he had her best interests at heart.
His hold tightened as he thought about the possibility of losing her.
She grunted. “You’re going to squeeze the stuffing out of me.”
He laughed and loosened his embrace.
“You’ve told me all the ways that being married to you would be advantageous to me,” she said. “You’re going to realize there is no advantage for you. I’m just going to be this horrible financial drain. I bring nothing to the table. You get stuck with a high school dropout with three kids. I’m not even particularly pretty or interesting.”
Declan let go of her and climbed out of bed. “If you’re going to talk about yourself like that, I’m going to go back to my house.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I came to drop off the marriage license, not to pretend I’m married for the night. I’m off a week from Monday. I want you in my bedroom, presenting when I get off work Sunday night.”
“I won’t see you again until then?”
“That’s the life of a sub, Nyxie.”
Chapter 11
Declan stood at the kitchen counter cutting up a little fruit and raw vegetables to sustain them for the evening. He knew Nyxie awaited him upstairs, but he needed to get in the right frame of mind. The Dom frame of mind.
God, he could use a drink.
He crossed to the fridge and looked inside for anything else he might add and grabbed a block of cheese from which he cut a few bite-sized cubes. He placed the olives in small ramekins, eating a couple before putting the jars away.
With a rather surly frown, Declan finished filling the platter. He was not in the habit of eating or feeding his subs during a typical weekend. Because he so rarely had time to play, he usually had 24 to 48 hours of marathon sex with little thought of food. If they slept at all, it was usually out of exhaustion.
But Nyxie was not his usual sub.
Damn it. He needed to stop thinking of her as being someone different, someone special. He needed to think of her as just another sub. Nyxie fit the bill of a certain type of sub. Her self-esteem in shambles by the abuse of drunk parents. He knew inside, she felt she deserved to be treated as an unloved object, but he wanted better for her. He needed to figure out how to build her up. To show her she was too good to grovel on the floor at his feet. But first, he needed to show her how ugly the lifestyle could be—tear her down to build her up.
He put the platter on the coffee table and steeled himself for what was to come. She always seemed so fragile to him, that he cringed at the thought of denigrating her. Frankly, that was part of being a sub for many, and she wanted to be his sub, not his wife. He wondered how much of his plan had come to fruition because of the hurt and anger he felt from her rejection. He had no idea if she would embrace the humiliation or if she would fight it. How would she feel to be called a slut? He hoped she hated it so much, that she would come to her senses. God, had he ever use that word in his life? Usually, the subs said it—calling themselves by that name—but oftentimes at his bidding.
He rolled his neck around and hunched his shoulders as he blew a deep breath through his lips. Fuck, he was nervous. How did he get her to hate this without hating him?
Declan took the first flight of stairs two at a time, then came up the second flight as quietly as possible, hoping to catch her unprepared. He came up behind the half wall that separated the stairs from the rest of the room. She sat on the floor naked and pseudo-presenting. She wasn’t quite in the position she was supposed to be in. Rather than sitting on her heels with her toes in a position where she could rise up quickly, the tops of her feet were on the carpet and she sat on her turned-in feet. However, her arms immediately caught his attention. Her hands were locked behind her neck. They had been there for so long, her arms trembled with fatigue.
“When you are waiting on me, you may wait with your hands on your knees,” he said, startling her.
“Oh, thank God,” she said, letting her hands drop like dead weight.
“What did you just say?” He drew the words out slowly, his voice tightly controlled.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled at his tone. His Dom voice.
“Thank God,” she said hesitantly, knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what. Was he offended by her using God’s name in vain?
“Excuse me?”
“What?” As she turned her head to face him, her shoulders slumped as she lost her composure.
“Thank who?”
She bit her lip trying to figure out what he wanted her to say.
“Would you like me to leave until you figure out whom you should be thanking?”
Her eyes narrowed trying to grasp what he was asking of her, then opened wide as it dawned on her what he wanted.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I didn’t say you could put them down now. I said you could put them down when you are waiting on me. I’m here now.”
She gave him a look of annoyance as she replaced her hands behind her neck. “Sorry, sir.”
“You can put your arms down and get up.”
A look of frustration settled behind her eyes. “Why didn’t you just say so to begin with?”
He grabbed her thin upper arm. “Do you seriously want to start this off complaining and moaning? Maybe you should just keep your mouth shut.”
<
br /> Nyxie pantomimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.
“Go in the bathroom—”
“Are we going for a swim in your bathtub?” she asked cheerfully.
Declan didn’t smile at her, he just stared emotionlessly to show his displeasure. “That didn’t last long. Do I need to find my duct tape?”
Nyxie clamped her mouth shut and shook her head no.
“As I was saying…. it’s time to check your weight. If you lost weight, you will be punished. For every pound you lose, you will receive five blows.”
Her sealed lips pursed slightly. “You’re kidding?” She slapped her hand over her mouth and hurried into the bathroom to do as she was told, rather than make him angrier. Declan was only a pace behind her.
No sooner had she stepped on his digital scale, than it gave her an error message.
“Step off,” he said low and slow. He waited for the message to clear before tapping it with his foot and waited for it to calibrate before letting her step back on.
“Eighty-eight? That’s what—one pound in a month.”
“I was fully dressed in Emily’s office,” she protested.
He roughly put his hands on her breasts, squeezing slightly. “Nope, not here.” His hands moved to her washboard ribs, then to her sharp hipbones, and her ass. “Not here, not here, not here.”
“What’s not there?”
“Those sixteen tiny ounces.”
“I’m sure they’re spread around.”
“Or maybe they are in your bladder and your colon. Maybe I should make you empty your bladder and give you an enema.”
“Hard limit,” she said. “You said you would reward me if I gained weight. I gained weight.”
He glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “Do you know what your reward is? You don’t have to beg me to let you suck my cock.”
“As if I would.”
“You just earned yourself a punishment for being disrespectful to me. Go to the armoire and pick out what you want me to use for your spanking. And I’m telling you now, if you pick out something that does not convey my displeasure with you and your sassy mouth right now, you will be putting on your clothes and going home after I discipline you.”
Nyxie stomped off to the other room in a fair imitation of Lotus when she was mad.
“Lose the fucking attitude,” he said in an overly controlled voice.
Nyxie turned, forced an insincere smile to her lips, and skipped the rest of the way to the armoire.
He had sent her an e-mail earlier that week to remind her that he wanted to see her. He instructed her to prepare the room by removing the duvet, unlocking the armoire, and being naked and presenting when he arrived. The e-mail went on to say that, she must not speak unless he asked her questions, her answers should always include the word sir and she was not to elaborate on her answers unless asked.
The only other time he had communicated with her, was a text sent in the middle of the night informing her that Cody had had a seizure, that he was fine, and the neurologist was adjusting his meds. At the end, he had added the words, “No response needed,” which she took to mean, don’t text him back. She did not find the message until the next morning and she ignored his mandate that she not go to the hospital before 11:00, so she could see for herself that Cody was okay.
As she examined the implements, she realized she had baited him into this. Did she do it intentionally? Perhaps she had just been testing his limits and his mood. It took about a minute to settle on his belt.
When she pulled it off the hook and turned around, Declan was standing a few feet away, his hand extended to take it.
“Present until I’m ready for you.”
She dropped to the floor in the spot by the cabinet and he placed the belt on the bench and headed down the stairs.
Nyxie stayed as still as possible waiting for Declan to return. When he came back, he carried a glass and a bottle of water.
“Stand up.”
She climbed to her feet and he grabbed his lidocaine spray from the drawer. “Open up.” He sprayed her throat, waiting for a few moments for the icy spray to numb her throat, then let her rinse out with the water into the glass. While she took the water and glass to the bathroom, he took something else from the armoire and sat down on the bench.
“Lie across my lap,” he said. “Spread your legs apart,” he said. When she had complied, he reached between her legs and rubbed something on her clitoris. It felt cold and thick, but it quickly warmed to her body temperature. She quickly forgot it was there as his fingers pushed into her sex—once in and out.
“Already so wet,” he said.
He dragged the doubled-over belt along the inner side of her thighs. The touch was so light it tickled a little and she had to fight not to giggle.
“Do good girls get sopping wet at the thought of a spanking? No. What kind of girl does that?”
“A sub, sir?”
He shook his head. “Try again.”
Nyxie bit her lip trying to figure out what he wanted her to say. “I don’t know, sir?”
“Only sluts get wet at the thought of punishment. Are you a slut, Nyxie?”
“You know I’ve never been with anyone but you, sir.” She wiggled, trying to find a comfortable position, but his hand pressed down on her back, staying her.
“That’s not what I asked.”
The belt slashed across her thighs so unexpectedly that Nyxie gasped. “I guess you won’t be wearing shorts this week. That’s going to leave a mark.” He dragged the belt across it. “This is where the submissive tells her Dom how many times he’s hit her and asks for another one so that she can please him.”
Nyxie hesitated. “One, sir. If it will make Sir proud of me, I will take another.”
His breath hitched hearing the way she phrased it, and when it returned to cadence, it was faster than before. “How can I resist such a sweet invitation? I can’t believe you don’t know how a slut is always horny and wanting it, Nyxie. Isn’t that what a slut is?”
He ran the edge of the belt along her backside and let it fly across her ass.
Nyxie’s breath left her body in a gush. “Two, sir. If it will make Sir proud of me, I will take another.”
He trailed the belt over various areas of her flesh. “How does your clit feel?”
“Hot and….”
The belt came down on the area where her ass met her thighs.
“Ow,” she exclaimed involuntarily.
Declan smiled. He wasn’t smiling because he’d hurt her, but because she had reacted to pain. It was something she almost never did, but it was something he desperately needed to gauge how she was tolerating the punishment.
“Hot and tingly,” she finished. “Three, sir. If it makes Sir proud of me, you can give me another one.”
He was so pleased that she had reacted to pain. With firm pressure, he caressed the forming welts, and decided not to give her more.
He had no doubts, that the three licks would be enough to get her worked up, wanting an orgasm, for which he would make her beg.
“Thank you for expressing your pain,” he said, caressing her bottom with luscious strokes that made her breathing increase. “You may get up now.”
Nyxie pushed herself up on all fours before rising to her feet. Her eyes glistened, revealing her excitement. If he had been dealing with his wife, he would’ve kissed her and fucked her at that point, but he would not give that to his sub. He rose, took a pillow off the bed, and threw it on the floor.
“You may show me your appreciation now,” he said.
He pulled his black work scrubs over his head and stepped out of his bottoms and boxer-briefs. A small smile played on Nyxie’s lips as she eyed his magnificent chest. When her gaze met his, she slowly sank to her knees, never taking her eyes away from his. She felt his jutting cock touch her lips before she lowered her eyes and saw it. She could faintly smell his body-wash. He always smelled as if he just stepped out of the shower.
When he pushed forward, she opened her lips and took him into her mouth. Her hands went around his hips and cupped the globes of his firm ass. She was so fascinated by the movement of his glutes as he thrust into her mouth, that she was barely aware of the brief moment he blocked her airway. Then, his hand clamped around the back of her head holding her head in place while he fucked her face.
In a moment of panic, her eyes flew to his.
Unspoken words passed between them and Nyxie understood she was safe. She forced the taut muscles in her neck to relax and stopped pushing her head against his grip. Her eyes closed and she pulled his hips closer.
She curled her tongue upwards and stroked the vein of his cock as it passed in and out of her mouth. It was all it took to send him over the edge. With a strangled cry, he thrust forward and stilled, his body trembling as he ejaculated into the depths of her throat.
She couldn’t breathe and instinct made her move her hands to the front of his hips, ready to shove him away if he didn’t withdraw quickly enough. When her lungs began to feel like they would implode, her eyes opened and she found him watching her intently. He was testing her. Though he made no sound, she could practically hear him say, “Trust.”
She dropped her hands, shut her eyes, and waited, her heart slamming against her ribs as she fought the urge to panic.
“Good girl.” He touched her cheek a few seconds before he withdrew. His hand slid into her hair, made a fist as he bent down and kissed her sexy mouth.
~*~
Between being praised as a good girl and eagerly anticipating that he would soon take care of her needs, Nyxie could barely contain herself. Whatever that stuff was, that he had wiped on her clit, had her tingling with sensation. It seemed to draw her focus to that one small part of her body.
To her dismay, he grabbed a pair of running shorts and put them on, making her realize he wasn’t going to take care of her needs. Not yet anyway.
Declan opened up the middle drawer of his armoire—or his toy closet as Nyxie was beginning to think of it. He pulled out a leather corset and began dressing her in it. Made of thick white leather, it felt stiff and unforgiving against her waist and ribs.
The Love He Craves (The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan Book 2) Page 10