by Andra Lake
“Where would you go, Amy,” he repeated, his voice taking on an edge.
I sighed as Dallon swiped our room key. “Australia.”
Dallon smiled smugly. “Done.”
Before I could register what he’d said, he pushed open the door and strode into the hotel room. I scrambled after him, clumsily taking my shoes off out of habit. I found him in the study where he’d left his cell phone for the afternoon.
“Just send me available packages during High Season,” he was saying into the phone. “October or November, maybe. I want to go when it’s warm.”
He glanced up when I entered and winked. “For two.”
My heart leapt as I realized what he was up to. The person he was speaking to must have sounded surprised as well because he repeated, “Yes, two seats. I’m going on vacation, Madeline. With my girlfriend.”
Madeline… I’d heard that name before. His receptionist.
“Thank you.” He ended his phone call, his smile fading when he saw my expression. “What?”
“Two things. Your receptionist works on the weekend?”
He scowled. “When there is a need for it, yes.”
“That need being that it’s nearing the end of our day?”
His lip twitched. “Clever girl. I’m taking you to Australia. End of story.”
“You’re taking our agreement to a whole new level.”
He crossed his arms, leaning back against the desk. “Have a seat,” he said and motioned to the armchair across from him.
I crossed my arms as well but sat, kicking my feet onto the coffee table one at a time. Again, his eyes traveled along my bare legs to where the short skirt of my dress ended near the top of my thighs. I glared at him.
“I have a job now.”
“You have vacation time. You don’t work in a sweatshop.”
“No,” I relented, “but I do have to visit my parents at some point.”
He waved his hand vaguely. “We can do that on a long weekend. I’ll pay the extra cost.”
I put a hand on my forehead and sighed. “It’s not about the money. At least, not the way you think.”
“What will it take you to understand that I want to spend money on you? I can make your dream come true, but you won’t let me. Why?
I opened my mouth, closed it.
“Is it that you don’t want to go away that long with me?”
“No!” I said quickly. “It’s not that at all, Dallon.”
“Then what do you need, Amy?”
I’d already tried explaining how I felt indebted to him, so I tried something else. Maybe if there was more give and take, I’d be more willing to accept what he needed.
“I want to know you too,” I said, remembering what he’d said during one of our first conversations. “I want you to feel like you can tell me anything.”
He frowned and made his way to the bar, poured himself a glass of wine and handed me one. I could tell he wasn’t impressed because he didn’t look me in the eye.
“I need that the way you need me to submit to you.”
He looked at me with hooded eyes. “So for you, being confided in makes you feel loved and like the most important person in your partner’s life.”
“Yes.”
He grunted and took a sip of his wine. “I’m a very private person.”
“I know.”
“I’m afraid you might be disappointed.”
I bit my lip, considering how to proceed. “Would you consider telling me how you ended up in hospital?”
His jaw tightened and he exhaled through his teeth, leaned back against the desk again. “I don’t want to revisit that stage in my life.”
“Fine.” I backed off, but he had been right; I was disappointed. I stood and walked to the window. Tiki torches were lit around the edge of the pool patio and people were cooking s ’mores over a fire pit. Everything looked so peaceful and easy.
“I hated myself when I discovered who I am,” Dallon said finally.
My eyes widened at this, but I didn’t flinch or turn around. Somehow it felt easier for both of us to have this conversation without looking at each other.
“I tried to return to my old ways, but I couldn’t. All I could think about was… Well, doing what people like me do.” He sounded miserable. When he spoke again, his voice was shaky.
“I tried to kill myself. That’s how I ended up in hospital. I didn’t think the world needed another monster.”
I went to him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. “You’re not a monster. Not even close. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you.”
He didn’t hug me back. His arms hung limply at his sides, and he was staring forward at nothing. “That’s sad.”
I flinched at his self-loathing tone. “No, it’s not. You take care of me in every way.”
“At what cost?”
“No cost. Only benefit.”
I took his hand and pressed it to my lips the way he had earlier. He squeezed mine slightly, the first sign that he might come back to me.
“You’re a good person, Dallon. You’re generous and protective. You started a shelter and you’re so good to Brendan. He worships you.”
“Thank you.” It was stated as a whisper. He was staring straight forward as if lost in his thoughts. When his phone rang, we both jumped. Like a robot, he made his way over to it.
“Hello, Madeline,” he answered, his voice devoid of emotion. “Just email me what you’ve found. Thank you for your help this evening.”
He hesitated. “I’d like to buy you a gift certificate. I…” He floundered for a moment, most likely because she had always been the one to buy them for him. My suspicions were confirmed when he said, “No, I’ll do it. Monday. See you Monday.”
Dallon put down the phone and rubbed his face.
Shit. I’d ruined a good moment, and on top of that, I’d made him feel bad about himself.
Excusing myself, I went to the bathroom, grasped the edge of the vanity for support. My reflection in the mirror was flushed from the wine and our intense conversation, but there was more to it. I knew what I wanted, what I had to do.
Passing through the bedroom, I pulled my dress over my head, dropped it on the bed and continued into the study. Dallon was on the phone again and holding a beer. He turned around when I walked in, his eyes widening slightly and then dipping low to take me in.
“Just do what I said!” he snapped, his eyes narrowing on me. “I’m on vacation. I don’t want to be dealing with this right now.”
I sank to my knees in front of him, looking at the ground. His hand instinctively moved into my hair, his grip tightening. The person on the other line was speaking rapidly, but Dallon cut him off roughly.
“Fuck, Roth, I’ve got to go.” He exhaled roughly and tugged my ponytail, tilting my face up to look at him. “What are you doing?”
I swallowed hard at the tone of his voice. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he wanted to say when. I closed my eyes.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered.
And you of me.
“Look at me.”
I met his eyes again. He was breathing heavily, his grip tight in my hair. “Is this what you want?”
I licked my lips. There was no turning back now—I’d made the decision as soon as I’d gone on my knees in front of him.
I nodded, still unable to speak.
Dallon made a low groan and released me. I instantly looked back at the ground, my heart thumping for a way out of my chest. Above me, he began loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. I waited with anticipation, my palms wet against my thighs. He put his tie over my head, tightening it around my neck in a swift but gentle motion. It fell between my breasts and ended between my legs.
“You’re giving yourself to me.” It was a statement.
I nodded again.
“Answer me,” he snapped.
“Yes.” I rushed to add, “Sir.”
“Do y
ou mean that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” His eyes burned into mine. “What we’re going to do is called a session. When we’re in a session, you will remember that you are mine and do what I say. This is not real life. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
My mouth was completely dry. I would have given anything for a glass of water, but I was too afraid to ask. I could feel his eyes on me, drinking me in.
“Look at me, Amy. I won’t ask again.”
I lifted my head. His gaze was scorching, assessing me intently, but his eyes softened as he reached out to touch my cheek. When he spoke, his tone was gentler.
“My desire is not to hurt you, but I will if I have to. Understood?”
I nodded. “I understand.”
With a gentle tug on the tie, Dallon instructed me to stand. I did, my legs surprisingly strong. I was ready.
Leading me with the tie, we went into the bedroom, where he placed his beer on the night table, sat on the bed and stood me between his legs. It reminded me of the first time we’d slept together.
“I love that you did this,” he said softly, running his fingers lightly from my breasts down to my abdomen. My groin clenched in response. “It means more to me than you know.”
He palmed my breasts, teasing my hardened nipples with his thumbs. “I don’t have to feel between your legs to know that you are incredibly aroused right now; I saw it when you were kneeling at my feet.”
I bit my lip and he released it with his thumb, shaking his head slowly. His eyes never leaving mine, he reached for the beer bottle, draining it in a long sip. I gasped as he moved it between my legs, running it along my cleft. The bottle was still cold. I was wound up so tight, I couldn’t help but rub myself against it.
Catching myself, I stopped, my cheeks heating. Dallon smirked, wrapped an arm around my waist to hold me. Dipping his head, he took my right nipple in his mouth, biting gently before whispering in my ear.
“Keep going. I want you to.”
Encouraged, I moved my hips again, rubbing my wet cleft shamelessly. It felt wrong to be using the bottle as a way to pleasure myself in front of him.
“Tug your nipples,” he instructed, his voice lower than usual.
I obeyed, and the bottle slipped inside me. I moaned as he moved it in and out, his lips brushing against my neck.
“Tug them harder. Just enough that it hurts a little bit.”
I inhaled sharply and in my distraction, his hand moved, and the bottle was pressed against my other opening.
I stiffened. “Don’t. Please.”
“Did I say you could stop touching your nipples?” he asked icily.
“No, Sir.”
He smiled and pushed the bottle further so that it was forcing me open.
“You can stop touching your nipples now, Amy.”
I instantly wrapped my arms around him, seeking comfort from the person causing me the discomfort. It was a strange revelation.
“It won’t hurt,” he whispered in my ear. “Trust me.”
My breathing started coming out shallow, and I pressed my face into his neck.
“Relax, baby. Show me how you can let go.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder, surrendering. Carefully, he pushed the bottle into the opening, and I whimpered. It hurt, but it also felt good. He paused to let me get used to the feeling, and then pushed it a little deeper. The feeling was so foreign, so naughty, and for some reason… really good. Fear and excitement combined for a heady aphrodisiac.
“You’re doing so well. Just feel it.”
Dallon pulled back slightly and our eyes locked, a look of warning in his. He wasn’t breathing. One more push, and I was filled to the hilt.
A slow, salacious smile appeared on his lips. “Good girl. I’m proud of you.”
Before I could entirely get a grasp on the sensation, Dallon was moving me. I cried out as he entered me from behind. The feeling of fullness was beyond anything I’d ever felt before. I could barely hold myself up on all fours and grasped a pillow, moving it under me for support.
“You like having a bottle in your ass, don’t you, Amy?”
“Yes,” I groaned, unable to deny it as I tightened around him. I was already well on my way to coming.
He smacked me across my backside and I cried out, surprised and angry.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whimpered.
I felt his triumph as he began to thrust into me again. He reached in front of me and grabbed the tie. His grip was loose but firm, a reminder to me that he was the one in control. Not just with my body, but with my breath.
“You love this. Your hot little cunt is so tight.”
Dallon’s crude words washed over me, and I moved faster with him, desperate to reach my climax. My body was achingly aware of how I was being treated, and it just worked to make me hotter.
“You can’t go long without me inside you. Can you, Amy?”
“No, Sir,” I panted.
“You exist to take my dick, and only mine. You’re mine.”
His fingers traveled between my legs, carrying my wetness up and down, coating me with it. I shuddered, past the edge now, my body no longer warring with my mind—I had lost all sense of self, surrendered completely to him.
“Tell me that you belong to me.”
“I belong to you,” I said without hesitation.
Dallon groaned. “Your pussy is so fucking wet. You love bending over for me. Feel how wet you are.”
His fingers moved to my back, spreading my wetness down my spine to my bum.
“You’re my naughty girl. I should pull out and mark you.”
I collapsed fully onto the pillow, my body beginning to shake with the first signs of orgasm.
“Admit it, Amy. Admit that you love submitting to me, that all you want is to do what I say.”
“I admit it. I want that.”
Unable to hold on any longer, I came loudly, my body clenching and unclenching in both areas at once, greedily milking him for all his worth. With a slight yank of the tie, my head was pulled back, and Dallon came as well, shouting his release through clenched teeth.
He pulled out of me swiftly and then I was in his lap. I was spent, all four limbs jelly and gloriously satiated, and I couldn’t deny it—that was the best orgasm I’d ever had. Dallon was right; nothing compared to the relief of giving up control. I snuggled deeper into his chest, and that’s when I remembered.
“The bottle.”
“I removed it when I came.”
I buried my face in his chest hair, embarrassed now that I was no longer lost in the spell.
“Hey.” Dallon grasped my chin and forced me to look at him. “None of that. No regrets. Promise?”
I nodded but hid my face again.
He sighed and brushed my hair with his fingers. “Thank you for that, Amy. Thank you for everything.”
Dallon carried me into the bathroom and set me on my feet before turning on the Jacuzzi tub. Then he grabbed a bottle of bubble bath off the vanity, poured it into the running water.
“You like bubble baths,” I said softly.
“I know you like bubble baths,” he corrected.
“What, bubble baths aren’t manly?”
He chuckled. “There’s my girl again. Get in.”
Thankfully, I stepped into the warm water, and Dallon stepped in after me. The tub was triangular shaped with more than enough room for both of us.
“I’ll wash you.”
He pulled the spray head out of its holder, and our eyes met. A slow smirk spread across his lips and I blushed, knowing we were both remembering his earlier threat. After what had happened earlier, I no longer doubted his resolve.
“You’re lucky I’m pleased with you. Turn around.”
Resisting the urge to call him bossy, I complied. First he wet my hair, putting the hose away while he lathered me with body wash, and then massaged sham
poo into my scalp, his fingers kneading and sending delightful shivers down my back. I tilted my head back for him to spray my hair and then my back.
“I want to wash you,” I said, taking the hose from him.
With a small smile Dallon turned, giving me access to his back. He was much larger than me, his back completely blocking my view, and I had to climb onto my knees to shampoo his hair. There was something empowering about knowing that I was taking care of him too, and that no one else had seen him this vulnerable in a long time, if ever. I could be confident of that, knowing what he’d said about me being only his second girlfriend.
“Have you ever been a submissive?” I asked as I moved the spray head down his back.
He stiffened. Reached out and shut off the faucet before grasping the spray head and removing it from my hand.
“No. Nor do I plan to.”
I pouted. Things had been going well, and I’d gone and ruined the moment for a second time tonight. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to offend you.” But even as I said the words, the indignation rose up within me.
He would never do it, but he wants me to do it.
“Stop worrying your lip,” he snapped. “I can tell you’re overthinking things again, and it’s not what you think. I just need something different than you.”
I searched my mind for ways to explore that without making it sound like an interrogation. My fingers knotted and unknotted nervously.
“I feel safe when you’re in control,” I said, glancing up at him.
His eyes softened and he pulled me into his embrace. Our legs stretched into the apex of the triangle, but unlike his, my feet didn’t reach the edge of the tub.
“I know you do, and that’s what I’d hoped. I feel safe when I’m in control.” He took a deep breath. “But I don’t want you to run.”
I frowned. “I’m not going to run.”
“It’s a fine line. Control makes me feel… stable, but at the same time, it could drive you away.”
“It won’t,” I said determinedly.
He pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply. “You smell so good.”
“So do you.”
I shifted slightly, running my fingers along his right leg. “I’d love to go to Australia with you, if you’ll still have me after I acted like a jerk.” I was suddenly afraid that he might call me ungrateful and turn me away. “I have always wanted to go, and it would be a dream. Especially with you because…”