by Quigg, CA
Simon opens the door for me, and says, “I’m not one to interfere in Mr. Talbot’s business, but give him a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. Not even after Rachel left.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to him, but that’s all I can promise.” An inappropriate giggle bubbles up inside of me, Callum must be a mess for Simon to say more than good morning or good afternoon.
I step out of the car and am greeted by a trail of red rose petals. The sweet scent envelopes me, and I inhale deeply. I follow the path through the open front door and into the house.
Thousands of fairy lights hang form the foyer ceiling, and the floor is a sea of rose petals. I kick off my flip flops and wade through. After a few steps, I see an envelope hanging from one of the fairy lights. I take it down and rip it open. Inside is a notecard.
Follow the flowers, and you will see they’ll take you to your destiny…
I roll my eyes at the cheesiness and laugh. My alpha male Dom is a secret romantic dork. I hug the notecard to my chest and follow the flowers until I see another envelope, this one is tucked inside a bouquet of what must be a hundred or more red and pink roses. Inside the envelope is another notecard.
A few more steps are all you need; please say yes, don’t make me plead…
The flower trail takes me to the basement door. Taped to the door is another envelope. I tear it open.
If your answer is yes, take of your clothes, I can’t wait to flog you, heaven knows.
If you walk down the stairs, you’ll be my sub; I promise to shower you with nothing but love.
I’ll control you and whip you and spank you in play, but with everything else, you’ll have your say.
You and I were meant to be, who else would read my bad poetry?
I smile, and my heartbeat quickens. He’s in the playroom waiting for me.
I hesitate at the top of the stairs. If I go down there, I won’t be able to resist him. I won’t be able to say no.
He’s given up the club for me. He’s sent my dad to rehab and is giving him a job. He came into the lecture hall and proposed in front of every one. He loves me. Really loves me.
I take a loud, deep breath. He’s right, he’s my destiny. And I want him. I haven’t stopped wanting him, and now my anger has diminished, I can admit I still love him. With all my heart, I love him.
I take off my dress and throw it on top of the rose petals. The lingerie I’m wearing is one of the gifts he bought for me—a sheer, strappy gartered chemise that frames and exposes my ass and a pair of black stockings.
He wants total control over me. Wants to control every action and every word I utter in the bedroom. After everything that’s happened, my mind puts up a fight, but my body begs me to give him what he wants.
I walk down stairs and go to the playroom. I push the door open. He’s there, waiting for me wearing black jeans and nothing else. In his right hand, he holds a riding crop. If he’s happy to see me, his expression doesn’t show it, but then I look into his eyes. They’re bluer than I remember and filled with so much love, my heart swells.
“On your knees,” he commands.
Getting down on my knees means saying yes, I’m yours and I forgive you. My sopping pussy twinges and my taut nipples throb, both impatient for his touch. My mouth dries, and my heart flutters, but who am I kidding, I’m his. From the day he walked into the auditorium, I was his.
I do as bids and kneel submissively in front of him. My knees are closed, my hands on my lap with my palms facing upwards, and my eyes are focused on the floor.
“Your safe word is red, the same as before. If you need it use it.” The sound of his zipper opening sounds in my ears and fills me with excitement. It’s been too long.
“Look at my cock.” Trying to keep the smile off my face, I look up. He’s as magnificent as I remember. He wraps his hand around his shaft and strokes up and down “Have you missed this? Have you missed my cock?”
“Yes, Sir. I’ve missed it and missed you so much.”
“Get over here.” He grabs the hair on the crown of my head, and I shuffle forward. “Squat down, hands behind your back and open your mouth.” I position myself as he requests and ignore the burn in my thighs.
He slides his cock into my mouth and sharply guides my head back and forth. My eyes water and I gag, but I don’t make any signs indicating I want him to stop. With a growl, he yanks me away, and a ribbon of saliva attaches my lips to his flared and weeping head.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he hits the riding crop against my inner thigh, and I flinch.
“Yes, Sir, I’m yours.” Without warning, he slides his cock back into my mouth. I close my eyes and lose myself in the sensations of taking him deep.
“Open your eyes. You know I need you to look at me at all times.”
I open my eyes and gaze up at him. His face is peaceful, almost serene, but his eyes deepen to the color of the ocean beneath a stormy sky and give away his desire. He slides balls deep. I splutter and choke and try to pull away, but he stops me. “Don’t.”
Slowly, ever so slowly he goes balls deep again, and this time I take him without complaint.
“Again.” He glides in and out, not showing any mercy. “You want me?” he asks, removing himself from my mouth and standing out of reach. “Do you want me?”
“Yes, Sir, I want you.”
“Then come and get me.” The riding crop comes down on my ass hard, and the sting of pleasure radiates outwards. I moan and whimper, but I don’t use my safe word. Flames lick my clit, and a fire blazes inside me.
He skims the head of the crop between my legs, coating it with my arousal, and I strain to suck his cock into my mouth, but he keeps himself out of reach. Every time I get close, he yanks me back not allowing me to take what we both want. After several frustrating attempts, he finally gives me what I’ve been waiting for. I twirl the tip of my tongue along the underside of his shaft and so badly want to take his balls in my palm, but since my hands are behind my back and he hasn’t given me permission to move then, I don’t.
“Thank me for giving you my dick.”
I attempt to murmur, “Thank you, Sir.” But the words come out as nonsense.
Repeatedly, he slides in and out of my mouth, not stopping no matter how much I choke or gag. Reaching down, he cups my jaw in his palm and controls my movements. Salvia drips from my mouth and down the front of his slacks onto the floor.
He pulls away from me. “Is there anything you want to say?”
“No, Sir.” My breath comes in broken pants, and I can only imagine how flushed my cheeks are. My legs ache from squatting position I’m in, but I don’t want to stop. I’ll take the discomfort because I’ve missed him far too much to complain.
“Touch yourself. Masturbate while you suck me.”
The night in the elevator when he first asked me to touch myself seems a life time ago. Back then, there’s no way I could have done this, but now everything is different—I’m different. I slide my fingers between my legs and slick them through my soaked pussy. Vibrations shudder through me, and my fingers move erratically as if impatient for my climax. How did I manage to go so long without him?
He pulls me to a standing position, and in the blink of an eye, his mouth is on mine, kissing me deeply.
While he kisses me, he palms my breasts moving from one to the other, and a riot of sensations detonate in my heart and spread through my body, almost like fireworks erupting within me.
This man could make me come with a word. My pussy throbs with need. I need him inside of me. I need him fucking me. I need him making love to me. Passion like I’ve never known grows inside and I kiss him with ravenous hunger. I wonder if I’ll ever get enough of him. Wonder if having him inside me will even be enough to satisfy my raging hunger for him.
He tears himself away from my mouth. “On your hands and knees on the bed.”
I get into the positon he requests, lower my head and spread my legs so he can see how wet my slit is.
&nb
sp; Callum says nothing and gives no reaction. Instead, he stands beside the bed, picks up a flogger from his collection and swishes the soft leather straps over my ass cheeks, gradually increasing the speed and intensity. I wiggle and moan showing him how much I enjoy his punishment.
My sensitive skin burns and I scream at the biting pain. He stops abruptly and runs his warm hands up and down my ass, massaging the smarting skin. I sigh, relishing his soothing touch.
His hands still, and when I cry out in protest, he smacks both cheeks and once again picks up the flogger. He swats one cheek, then the other, followed by the back of my thighs. Once again, the intensity increases with each pass, and he follows this pattern for an eternity.
A light flick hits off my pussy, I lurch forward, but every subsequent brush of the straps leaves me hungrier, hotter, and wetter.
“Turnaround, lie on your back and put your hands above your head.” He positions me, so I’m lengthwise along the bed—my feet at the headboard and my head at the base—and lifts my arms above my head where he handcuffs them together.
“Do you like this, Aubree? Do you want me to stop? Do you want to use your safe word?”
He picks up the flogger and holds it so the tails dance over my skin, tickling me as they move.
“I like it, Sir. I don’t want you to stop.”
“Good.” He brushes the tails up and down the side of my body—from under my arms to my feet and back up again.
“Do you deserve this?”
“Yes, Sir,” I gasp. “I deserve it very much.”
“Why?”
“Because I ignored you and because I made both of us suffer.”
“Feet on the ground and bend over the bed.”
The punishment continues, and leather tresses dance across my back and butt. Sometimes hard. Sometimes soft. I’m not sure where the pain ends and the pleasure begins. I squeeze my eyes closed and focus on the rhythmic sound of the tails hitting my skin and how my hair blows from the breeze they create.
Again and again, he slides and strokes the flogger through my folds, which, if possible, arouses me even more. How long the flogging continues, I can’t tell. Five minutes, ten minutes, more? He doesn’t speed up or slow down; he keeps the rhythmic pattern steady and strong. My mind floats, and peace settles inside me.
The slaps become harder, but the pace doesn’t change, he keeps up his slap, stop, slap, stop, slap, stop pace until I’m floating again. Whimpers drift from my lips, and I want to ask him to go faster, harder, but I don’t because if I do, he might stop.
Without me having to say a word, he increases the intensity and excitement drips between my legs. My pussy lips are tender, but each time he swats me, my desire increases tenfold.
“Do you want me to punish you more, Aubree?” The head of his cock hits off my butt, and I rear back inviting him to enter me.
“Yes, Sir. Please. Please punish me more.” He leans over and grabs my hair, lifting my face to his. His kiss is possessive and ravenous, filled with promises of what’s to come. When he’s done plundering my mouth, he pulls my hips up until my knees are on the bed.
“So fucking wet for me.” He slides his fingers over my erect clit and then presses two fingers inside my pussy, and I pulse around him. “Your pussy is as tight as it was when I first fucked you.”
My inner muscles throbbed and clench getting, tighter, tighter, tighter. I’m so close, and I want nothing more than to climax.
“If you come without permission,” he says hoarsely, “what do you think is going to happen?”
“You’ll punish me even more.”
He laughs. “You’d enjoy that too much. If you come, this will be your last orgasm for a month. Don’t rush, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. We have forever.”
I groan and tense my body against the waves of contractions, and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold off. “Please, Sir, please let me come. Just once. It’s been forever. Please. Please, please, please.”
“Why should I let you come?” he asks not once stopping or slowing his fingers.
It’s hard to concentrate and form words, but I manage to say, “Because I’ll do anything for you, Sir. Anything you ask.”
“You’re going to do anything for me anyway.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to mentally recite the alphabet backward. Stupid, I know, but I need to do something to take my mind off coming.
“Open your eyes and look at me.” He chuckles. “You’re not getting off that easily.” Reluctantly, I open my eyes and look back at him. Intense concentration lines his face.
“Come,” he says on a whisper. “Show my how much you’ve missed me.”
Thank you, God. I relax my body against everything I’ve held back. A powerful orgasm crashes over me, consuming me, claiming me. I scream and groan and cry out and close my eyes against the onslaught of pleasure.
“Open your eyes, Aubree, look at me.” His tone is low but I heed the warning it holds.
I do my best to open my eyes, but I can’t.
“You’re going to pay for your disobedience,” he says, and I swear I hear a chuckle in his words.
I don’t care. The only thing I care about is how good my climax feels.
Spent, I sag onto the mattress, but he keeps his fingers inside me, leisurely fucking and dragging aftershocks from me.
Being with him is glorious and fills the void in my life. I want nothing more than him for the rest of my life.
He withdraws his fingers and holds them to my lips, and I breathe in the musky scent of my excitement. “Clean them,” he orders.
Obediently, I suck his fingers into my mouth and taste the tangy, sweetness of my orgasm.
“Good girl,” he says and removes them from my mouth. “Now, I’m going to fuck you.”
Giddiness fills me, and I want to scream yes, but I keep everything inside.
Gently, he curves his hand around the back of my neck and in one powerful stroke, he impales me. It’s as if he’s saying, I own you and never letting you go again. The entire time he fucks me, he keeps his fingers possessively curved around my neck.
He’s the only man I’ll ever need and the only man who will ever fuck me. His breathing becomes ragged, and his thrusts quicken until he’s hammering into me.
“Come again,” he pants. “Let me feel your pussy milk my cock.”
“Yes, Sir,” I say. With every thrust, his balls hit off me, and once again, I fly into orbit. Every cell in my body constricts, and for a few seconds, my pussy clenches hard and holds him so tight, he’s rendered motionless. When I release him, he roars and continues his unremitting thrusts.
“Mine, mine, mine.” Desperate groans ring around the room.
“Yours, Sir,” I agree. “Always yours.”
He moves his hand from my neck and grips my thighs. A deep groan comes from deep within his throat, and he slams deep. His movements become more and more erratic until he stills and his cock shoots his cum inside my pussy.
Callum presses his weight against me, and we both collapse onto the bed. He’s still inside where he belongs. “Mine,” he whispers.
“Yours.”
Epilogue
One year later
“Dad, are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Promise.”
I tuck the blankets around Adam who’s sleeping in his baby rocker and gaze at his rosebud lips. We conceived our little man on the night Callum proposed, and soon after, we said “I do” on a tropical beach in the Maldives with Ella and James as our witnesses.
Three months ago, Adam came into the world, and I can’t remember my life before him. He’s the image of Callum with his blue eyes and perfect face, and I love him—both of them—more than I ever thought possible.
I’ve never left Adam before, and this is his first night away from home. A cold sweat breaks over me at the thought of leaving him.
My dad insisted Adam spend the night in the bedroom
he had decorated especially for his first grandchild. I couldn't say no.
Familiar arms wrap around my waist. “It’s for one night, love. Your dad will be okay. He has every number he could possibly need if anything does go wrong, which it won’t, we can be back here in an hour.”
“Listen to your husband.” My dad strokes a gentle finger over the back of Adam’s hand, and my heart fills to bursting. The freshly shaven, well-dressed man in front of me is not the same man he was a year ago. He’s been sober for almost a year. Every day, he gets up for work and every week he attends AA meetings.
“I’m so proud of you, Dad.”
“So you tell me every day,” he says not taking his eyes off Adam, but I don’t miss the thickness in his voice.
“And I’ll keep telling you.”
“Go. Leave my grandson and me in peace. We have a night of baseball opening games ahead of us.”
Callum, who looks irresistible in his tux, walks towards to the front door. “The gala started an hour ago. We're already late.”
I press a kiss against Adam’s cheek and then against my dad’s. “You know the correct temperature his milk has to be, right? I’ll text you when it’s time to feed him. Make sure he doesn’t get too hot or cold. I’ll—”
“Shoo.”
“Babe,” Callum calls.
“I’m coming. I’m coming.” I give myself an inward smile. I might not be coming yet, but I soon will be. My husband will see to that.
****
At the end of the night, after dancing and chit-chatting for hours, we step into our waiting limo. I kick off my shoes and lean my head against Callum’s shoulder. I do my best to stifle a yawn, but I don’t succeed.
“Did you just yawn?” he asks.
I laugh. “Maybe.”
“It’s time to wake up. I have a lot planned for when we get to the playroom.” He closes the divider between Simon and us and gets down on his knees in front of me.
“What do you have in mind to wake me up, Sir?”
“Spread your legs, and you’ll see.” He shoves up the skirt of my dress, not seeming care it’s a one of a kind and cost thousands of dollars. “I’m glad you couldn’t wear underwear with this dress.”