Don't Come

by Jessica Gadziala

  "Almost four months without coming," he said, hand sliding down my ribs to my hip, "no matter how close I brought you. Think you've earned a reward, pet."

  My belly wobbled at the promise, but my mind wouldn't let me believe it was finally going to end, the clawing, awful need that had settled in my lower stomach for so long that I forgot what it was like to be without it.

  But as his hand settled a little deeper into my hip, anchoring me in my spot, his other moved to glide up my thigh, finding my clit, and gently stroking over it, his eyes watching my face as it registered the pleasure that almost bordered on pain it was so acute.

  It slid back down my cleft, two fingers pressing inside me again, making my body stiffen, wondering suddenly if this was just another cruel game that my body wasn't sure it could endure.

  "Trust me," DOM both demanded and asked of me somehow at the same time, his fingers curling inside me, then tapping hard against my top wall, hitting my G-spot with expert precision just when his thumb swiped across my clit.

  And it was almost that fast.

  My entire body soared into the sensation, into the promise it held. My hand flew out, slapping down on his shoulder, not sure I would be able to keep holding myself upright if I didn't brace myself.

  He did it again - a tap and swipe, and this time my walls got tighter as a whimper burst out from my lips, a sound that made his eyes get heavier.

  Tap and swipe.

  Slow. Deliberate.

  Each move was meant to give me just enough to drive me up inch by inch without propelling me over the top.

  My thighs ached they pressed so hard into the outsides of his. My fingers hurt from curling into the muscle of his shoulder. The pressure on my lower stomach was nothing I had ever felt before as a sound that could only be called a cry escaped me.

  "You gonna come for me?" he asked. Tap/swipe.

  "Yes... sir," I whimpered. Tap/swipe.

  "So close," he observed, feeling how tightly my walls were holding him. Tap/swipe.

  "I can't..." I started, shaking my head, feeling an intensity building that was starting to freak me out, something I didn't even have a name for, didn't know what to expect from.

  "Sh, yes you can. You're going to," he informed me. Tap/Swipe. Tap/swipe. Tap/swi...

  The orgasm ripped through my system, seeming to somehow break through all of me at once, making the strength in my legs and midsection and arms give out, sending me falling against DOM's chest as the air that felt trapped in my lungs as the first wave crashed through me, exploded out of my body in a loud cry as DOM's fingers started tapping and swiping harder and faster, driving me back up, sending me crashing again, somehow harder, somehow stronger, making my vision go white for a long moment as a gasping moan escaped me again, a sound I was sure I had never heard myself make before. Which made sense because these feelings were the likes of which I had never felt before. Not even close. I didn't even know this was possible.

  "No, please," I whimpered when his fingers started thrusting again. "Please," I begged, shaking my head, burying it deeper into his neck as I tried to drag air back into my chest, tried to find something that would even mirror control in my body.

  "Sh, okay," he said, fingers stilling, but staying stubbornly right where they were. "Okay," he said again, his free arm closing around my lower back, holding me a little tighter to him as the shaking started, a slow trembling that seemed to build in intensity, making my body stiffen. "Aftershocks," he told me, giving me another squeeze. "Breathe," he reminded me as I settled back down into him, trusting that if he wasn't worried about it, that I shouldn't be either.

  So I breathed.

  I let them move through me, seemingly a mix of the adrenaline leading up to it, and the orgasm itself making my body forget how to keep control over itself. The longer I breathed, the less the shakes racked me. In just a few minutes, the tension was gone, making me melt into his body, take my full weight.

  The clawing sensation was gone, leaving in its wake simple need, the understanding that no matter how good the orgasm was, it wasn't what my body truly wanted. Which was his cock buried inside it, stretching it, claiming it.

  Until then, no matter how many times he made me come, it was never going to completely be what I was craving.

  We would get there eventually, though.

  And I had a feeling I was going to enjoy the journey.

  His fingers raked over my top wall again, but purposely missing my G-spot, just trying to shock me back so he could look at me. In doing so, I found victory in his eyes.

  And, well, I couldn't even begrudge him that.

  "This is still my pussy," he told me, doing another stroke just meant to show possession, not drive me up again. "And you still don't touch it without my permission, got it?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Feel better?" he asked, his arm loosening up on my lower back to move down to my hip, putting pressure there until I reluctantly moved to sit back up.

  "Yes, sir," I agreed, giving him a small, somewhat wobbly smile, a bit unnerved by the intensity in his eyes.

  He gave me a smile as well, though I was pretty sure 'wobbly' was not a word in his vocabulary, least of all something his strong features could reduce themselves to. His smile was sly and satisfied. Proud of himself. "Little comedrunk still," he said, eyes warming as his hand slid from my hip, up my belly, between my breasts, up my throat, then snagging my chin, his thumb stroking gently.

  While he wouldn't allow my head to, my gaze dropped as I admitted, "That was intense."

  "I know," he agreed, and the smile, the self-satisfaction was there in his voice as well. "I heard it. And felt it."

  As if him saying it reminded me that his fingers were still buried inside me, my walls tightened around him, making him let out a low, rumbling chuckle.

  "Nuh-uh," he said, making my gaze lift again. "Your pussy might want it, but it's not getting it," he told me, doing one more savage tap, making a choked sound burst from my lips before pulling his fingers out of me finally. "The next person who gets to come is me," he informed me as his fingers shifted from my chin to rub across my lower lip. "While I fuck this pretty mouth," he added, making an undeniable tightening start in my core again.

  I couldn't claim that going down on a guy was something I truly enjoyed in the past. Sure, it was nice to please your partner and everything, but I never got wet at the idea of a cock in my mouth and cum down my throat.

  But there was no denying that when DOM requested - demanded - it, I found myself wanting to do it, wanting to please him, wanting to give him even a hint of what he had given me.

  "And you're gonna be a good girl and swallow every last fucking drop." It wasn't a question. And his certainty sent another shiver through me.

  "Yes, sir."

  Feeling the shiver, his lips twitched up at one side. "Greedy pussy. Greedy mouth. Bet you have a greedy ass too, pet." His hand slid up my jaw, slipping down near my ear to sink into the hair at the base of my skull, twisting in hard, and using it to yank me closer, until our faces were nearly touching. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? To have my cock stretching your tight ass." As if my body was happy to answer for my silent mouth, my hips shifted, grinding down on his lap, feeling his still hard cock press into me. "Thought so," he said, releasing my hair, sending a tingling sensation across my scalp. "So what do you want to do?" he asked, making my brows draw together.

  "Um, sorry... what?"

  "Do you want to watch a movie? Order food? Take a bath?"

  Ah, okay. What? How did we go from talking about him fucking my ass to baths?

  "I don't under--"

  "Maybe not so much tonight, but as this goes on, things are going to get more and more intense for you. Shit comes up."

  "Shit comes up?" I repeated, not quite grasping what he meant by that.

  "It's cathartic to give up your control, Adley. But it is also scary and foreign. Emotionally, shit comes up. It's not unusual for a sub to freak and need to
tap out, or cry, or feel strange and detached after everything is over. It's my job to make sure you have what you need after." Aftercare. He wanted to discuss aftercare. "I need to know what you need, so you need to be able to tell me. Doesn't matter what it is. I knew a sub who needed to watch Disney movies and eat ice cream after. So that was what happened. I knew another who needed not to have me touch her, but to sit next to her while she cried. So she had that. But I need to know what you need, so you need to be able to talk to me about it."

  He was giving me yet another reason to trust him. Implicitly. Like I had never been able to trust anyone before.

  "I don't... I'm fine," I said, shrugging a little. "I don't know what I might need."

  "What do you normally do when you've had a shitty day? To self-soothe?"

  I shrugged at that. "I don't know. I guess I just get in bed and watch early ER reruns."

  "ER is your self-soothing show? With gunshot wounds to the chest and suicide attempts?" he asked, lips curving again and I decided that while stern DOM was sexy as all get out, smiling DOM was just simply beautiful.

  "ER, House, sometimes Nip/Tuck, Crossing Jordan, or M*A*S*H."

  "So all the blood and guts minus the stabbing part," he observed. "I will add them to my queue," he added, and there was no denying the warm and swirling sensation in my stomach at that declaration.

  And that was not good, right?

  Warm and swirling... that was for lovers.

  We weren't lovers.

  We were... I didn't know what we were.

  Dom and sub.

  We were a sexual arrangement, nothing more.

  That shouldn't have but totally did, send a sinking feeling dropping through my stomach.

  "Anything else? Food? Bath?"

  "A blanket?" I asked, giving his empty couch a pointed look.

  He smiled at that, nodding. "I'll get you a blanket. I'm assuming a soft, fluffy one is in order."

  "And pink," I said with a somewhat victorious smile. "Just because it would be hilarious to see a pink blanket in this apartment."

  He shook his head at me, obviously being a man and opposed to all things pink. "A pink fluffy blanket it is."

  "I think that's it."

  I wasn't one for little customs. I had friends who had whole self-care rituals when they had bad days. They were long and elaborate and sounded lovely, but I simply had never felt down enough to need to establish that kind of practice. I guess my default thing to do when I was feeling crummy was to throw myself into work until it just went away.

  If DOM was right, and this was going to be a more emotional journey than I was aware of - or prepared for - and things came up, well, I guess I would see if I had a need for more aftercare.

  "If it changes, you just need to let me know," he told me, and, what's more, he meant it. That was a pretty amazing thing. If I needed something - anything - he would make it happen.

  Maybe this was why I had been so drawn to this all along, not necessarily because of the pain - though I was finding that I was even more into that than I had previously realized - but because by submitting, I was allowing something to happen that I had never allowed before, I was letting a man take care of me.

  And that felt good.

  It felt amazing.

  It was different between us.

  He didn't see it as an obligation.

  He saw it as a privilege.

  And that, well, that was something a woman could get used to, learn to crave, rely on.

  A shiver coursed through me, the post-orgasm contentedness and the distance between our bodies allowing the cool air to snake its way across my skin.

  "Come on. Hop up. I might like this view," he said, hand sliding up to caress my breast, making a not-cold tremble move through me, "but you should get your clothes back on."

  Without much choice, I moved back until my feet could lower to the floor, watching as he slid out from under me, his cock still straining with need, though he made it clear that tonight, he was the one who wasn't going to come.

  He walked back toward the kitchen, snagging my clothes off the floor, then walking back to hand them to me.

  "I'll be back," he said, moving off toward the hall across from the kitchen where I imagined the bed and bath were situated, leaving me there to dress.

  I wasn't stupid.

  I knew a dismissal when I was given one.

  Even though this was always the plan, this casualness, there was a disappointed twist in my belly as I struggled back into my panties and bra, then dragged on my dress before hobbling over and snagging my heels, carrying them in my hand back to the kitchen where I drained the rest of my wine before slipping back into them.

  Seeming to hear the click of them, DOM finally reemerged, his sleeves rolled up like he had been washing his hands, the forearms way too damn sexy for, well, forearms.

  "You heading out?"

  Are you giving me a choice?

  "Yeah. I, ah, have to get some sleep so I can get some work done tomorrow." Never mind that I snuck a look at the clock on the range and it was hardly even nine.

  "Do you have any nights out planned this week?"

  "Ah, Tuesday." At his brow raise that suggested he wanted more than that, I shrugged. "Meeting friends for a late dinner."

  It was, technically, a lie. Until I got home to schedule it with them. But I knew better than to tell someone that my schedule was pathetically empty.

  He wanted casual.

  I needed to keep those boundaries up as well.

  I couldn't let myself keep an open schedule on the off chance that he might call.

  "Wednesday night then," he said. It wasn't a request, but he waited for a confirmation.

  "I think that will work."

  "Seven," he said, putting a hand at my lower back, leading me toward the door.

  "Here?" I asked as he opened it for me to move into.

  "Yes, here."

  "Okay. Sounds good."

  He nodded a bit at that, snagging my wrist when I turned to leave, figuring we were done. He pulled me back into him until my chest met his, his head ducking in toward my ear, lips touching the edge of it.

  "I dare you not to think of me every time that ass smarts when you try to sit down," he challenged, knowing it would be impossible. His teeth snagged the edge of my earlobe, biting gently. "Be a good girl until I see you next," he commanded, moving away, throwing up an arm toward the top of the doorjamb, waiting for me to turn to walk away.

  As I did, I felt his eyes on me the whole time.

  It took actual work to keep my eyes forward, only catching sight of him again as I turned into the elevator, watching me as I caught him looking, something that made him back inside and close the door.

  Guards.

  He was going to keep them up.

  I wondered if I would be able to as well.

  SIX

  Adley

  I fretted about my outfit all day.

  On one hand, of course, I wanted to look good for him. I wanted to be sexy and desirable.

  On the other, I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard.

  And it was a Wednesday. No one wore a little black dress and heels on a Wednesday. It reeked of desperation.

  In the end, I made my hair straight and shiny. I skipped eyeliner and mascara because, apparently, DOM wanted to fuck my mouth, and having mascara running into your eyes sucked. But I added a little lipstick since, well, it seemed like Hooker Rules applied to Dom/sub situations - at least this one - no kissing on the mouth.

  I slipped into simple leggings and a long-sleeved black tee, put on ballet flats, grabbed my clutch, and went to hail a cab before I could change my mind and fall back into the bottomless void of my closet.

  "Miss Adley," the doorman, whose name tag I noticed this time said Richard, said as he opened my cab door.

  "Thanks, Richard," I said, giving him a small smile even though, inside, all I could think was that he knew exactly why I was here since
he knew exactly how long I stayed last time. How long I would likely stay this time.

  With nothing more but another small smile when he opened the main door for me, I rushed inside, closing myself in the elevator with a couple who had clearly been bickering before I joined judging by the way they avoided saying anything to each other, just casting angry 'this isn't over' looks when they didn't think I could see. They stopped off ten floors below me, allowing me to ride up the rest of the way alone.

  I took a deep breath, pretending to ignore the jumping excitement in my belly, the way my body was already responding as though he was standing there with me, whispering dirty words in my ear.

  He had texted a few times, once instructing me to wear the panties again, other times just checking in. There had only been one call, to listen when he controlled the panties, getting off on my torment, just so he could whisper those two words in my ear again.

  Don't Come.

  "Early this time," DOM greeted me a mere moment after I knocked. He moved away to let me come inside, closing the door, then backing me up against it, eyes roaming over my face. His hand slid across my jaw down toward my chin, his thumb stroking just under my lower lip. His smile curved up. "I'm gonna have lipstick marks on my cock tonight, huh?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," I agreed, watching as his eyes went hungry.

  He was in a suit again. The man seemed to live in them. Expensive, dark ones. This one was black with a gray pinstripe design in the pant, and a simple gray dress shirt. His sleeves were rolled up again, his top button undone.

  "Come with me," he demanded, reaching past me to lock the door before moving down the hall toward, I imagined, his bedroom.

  My heart thudded into overdrive as he disappeared into the room, leaving me to follow.

  Inside, I found about what I expected. The walls were a darker gray than the main area, the dressers black, the bed black, the sheets and bedspread... black.

  My eyes roamed around again, finding things I missed before. Mainly, a collection of what looked like toys spread across his dresser. Toys.