by Lila Munro
"Can we keep her, Master?" Blake asked, sounding like a kid that had dragged home a stray cat. Although the current company only included a select few of their less than vanilla friends and a few family members, he whispered the last part as if it were taboo to be saying it without formal protocol being incited.
"If you aren’t, let me know," Layne said. He leaned on the opposite side of the archway with a beer in his hand watching Shelby as she worked arranging a fruit platter at the island. Every few seconds his gaze wandered to Julie.
"Oh, we’re definitely keeping her," Dante said over his smile, shooting Layne a warning glance. "Does Shelby know you’re ogling her friend?" He remembered Allen’s warning about the birds of prey circling, but never thought he’d have to consider Shelby’s husband one of the flock.
"She knows my eyes wander. But I never play without permission."
"Well, just remember it’s not her permission you need when it comes to Julie. It’s mine," Dante growled with every ounce of possessiveness he owned.
"Good answer," Layne commended, bowing his head in defeat, a bit of proud understanding crossing his features.
So, Layne was testing him. Dante supposed it was to be expected. The community was in a dead center split over what had become known as the Mason scandal. Julie had no idea about it though. Without her making the rounds, so far she’d been sheltered from the gossip and talk. Dante, Blake, and their closest friends never breathed a word of it in around of her. It seemed half the people in their circle were Mason sympathizers and the other half despised both him and Dante for what they considered a ludicrous plan.
"Did Shelby put you up to that?" Dante asked, his initial ire subsiding. He couldn’t blame Shelby for her concern. She’d known Julie since childhood and now that her life was on track, she left little room for anyone to take advantage of her savior.
"She would've eventually. You know how protective she is of her."
"I’m aware. But she should know me better than that by now."
"One would think, but it’s my humble opinion neither of them are fully capable of complete and total trust." Layne took a drink of his beer and ran his free hand through his hair. "I don’t think Shelby completely trusts me yet and we’ve been married fourteen years. Good luck with that one." He pointed the end of his bottle toward Julie who now had her head nearly in the oven checking the rolls she’d worked on all morning.
What Dante really wanted to do was go over and include her in his and Blake’s intimate embrace, but he refrained. Although things were progressing nicely in the trust department behind closed doors, regardless what Layne believed, Dante was pretty certain his parents might raise the roof if they thought for a moment anything more was going on between the three of them than Julie needing someplace to stay and recover. He remembered Julie’s horror at finding out how his neighbors acted toward his less than conventional living arrangement. That attitude from strangers was one thing, but to have to deal with it from family was another matter entirely. Backward movement wasn’t in his plan where Julie was concerned and if she thought for a moment she was causing issues with his parents, she might well regress and never come back to him. Dante had learned long ago Julie cherished family. She’d never had that growing up and after she lost her sister to a drug dealing pimp, it became her priority to ensure her friends knew the importance of family.
Dante shook off the feeling of loss for her that swamped him every time he remembered coming into the kitchen of that rundown house in the slums and finding her on the floor with her dead sister in her arms. Not today. Today was about thanks and blessings. And he was blessed to have her in his life, even if the way she came to him was another sad situation.
"Do I have something on my face? " Julie asked, turning toward them, finally realizing she was being watched. "I really need to freshen up before we eat."
"You look beautiful, love," Dante told her, stepping away from Blake and going to her. "What can we do to help finish?"
"Stop hovering," she said, setting a big pan of buns on the top of the stove.
The warm, heady odor of yeast and butter wafted off them and Dante’s stomach barked its need for food and soon. "Yes, love." He turned on his heel and motioned for the others to follow.
If there was one thing he’d learned in the past few months, it was to give Julie free reign in her kitchen when she wanted and worry about the leftovers later. He could say with certainty he’d never missed lunch since she’d moved in. Whereas before he managed lunch out at least twice a week and the other three he barely stopped to eat at all, Julie made sure he never left the house without a meal. What she didn’t know was he had to renew his gym membership last month to keep his girth at bay from all her nurturing. Another way he intended to be a better man for them, by making sure he was in shape. He not only wanted a long life with Blake and Julie, he wanted to be able to give them physically what they needed from him for years to come as well.
A half-hour later, people milled about the house with plates brimming over with turkey, dressing, potatoes, salad, vegetables of all sorts, and all the accoutrements. The twins were entertaining Drake’s neighbor girls in a corner and Dante’s parents were busy chatting with Allen and some girl he may have rented for the day for all Dante knew. Dante’s mother would probably die of embarrassment if she knew what he could see Allen was thinking about the young blond hanging on his arm.
Smirking, Dante turned the corner into the family room and found Julie sitting alone at the window seat looking out over the yard which was filled with the last of the fall leaves. He reminded himself to remember to rake them tomorrow while Julie and Blake were fighting over bargains at the Black Friday sales then squeezed into the bay window beside her.
"Why are you not eating, love?" he asked, setting his plate between them then brushing a lock of her gleaming hair behind her ear.
"I’m not really hungry to be honest with you," she said, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them. "Probably tasted too much while I was cooking it."
That was a lie. Julie liked to eat. She didn’t really look sad, just reflective, and he wondered how much she was hiding behind the glossy exterior she could put up in a heartbeat when she refused to share her thoughts.
"You know, if you wanted we could've had dinner on the river."
Dante had asked her repeatedly how she wanted to proceed with her first holiday without Mason. Every year for the past several years, she and Mason hosted Thanksgiving and Christmas at their house. It was an enormous family-style affair, although the only blood family in attendance was Mason's children, who came every other year, alternating between Mason and their mother. So many changes in such a short time. It had to be hard on her, yet Dante was clueless as to what to do to make it easier and felt powerless as a result. What he wished for her was the peace of mind he knew would only come once he could breach her defenses and take her completely, making her his own. There was no rule book. No Dear Abby advice to be had. There was no etiquette in place to dictate to him how long was long enough to wait to cross that line with her.
"I know." She sighed, turning her head and laying her cheek where her chin had rested. "Is everything good?"
"Of course. Could we expect anything less from our little Holly Homemaker?"
"I suppose not."
This was the worst he’d seen her in weeks. He thought she was fine this morning, she’d been smiling and laughing. Of course she’d been cooking all day, too. Now that she had nothing to keep her busy, it seemed she’d sequestered herself and clicked off.
"Jules? Love?" he asked, a bit of authority lacing his voice. He might have known the holidays would be the worst. Perhaps he should have called it all off and taken the family on vacation to the tropics for a few days.
"Yes, Sir?"
He mentally blew out a breath he’d been holding at her answer, knowing she wasn’t so far removed that she didn’t recognize he was drawing her back, even if it was by instinct only.
"But what will everyone think?" she protested, looking around at the empty room. It was then Dante realized she had been alone. "Maybe no one cares after all."
"Wasn’t it you that said something along the lines of you didn’t give a damn what people thought? Wasn't that just a few weeks ago? And I believe you tossed in another line something the likes of fuck them?" Dante tugged her hands and she unfurled and stood beside him. "Come, love. Everyone is too busy stuffing themselves to miss us."
"Where are we going?" she whispered as they made their way through the living area and around the buffet to slip down the hall.
"Bedroom. I don’t care if they’re vanilla or dark, swirl or something in between. I’m pretty sure they all know if the door is shut to either go away or knock. Besides, we don’t have locks for no reason."
"Dante?" Julie stopped moving, her voice quivering with uncertainty.
"What did you say?" He turned and raised one eyebrow. Although he had no intention of doing a thing with her, he thought it imperative to keep her in his end of the pool. She was obviously floundering and needed tethered. If voice did it, voice it would be.
"I mean, Sir." Her eyes darted to the floor and she again followed him as he finished their trek and pulled her though the bedroom door, closing it behind them and turning the lock.
"I think zero dark thirty may have been just a little bit earlier for my love to be up this morning shoving bread cubes up the tail end of a dead bird." Dante took her chin with his forefinger and thumb and directed her eyes upward. "And maybe my love invited just a few too many people over? It’s okay not to want to entertain, you know. We could have had a quiet little dinner just the five of us. Maybe for Christmas we need to go out of town. How long has it been since any of us had a vacation?"
The question was completely unwarranted. Dante knew perfectly well how long. Julie had gone non-stop for nearly a year, never leaving Mason’s side for any reason, not even for her regularly scheduled girl’s lunches with Shelby or Blake. Come to think of it, he thought perhaps it was time to start forcing her out for more of those, effective immediately.
"I'm tired, Sir, but it’s mostly mental," Julie said, allowing Dante to run his fingers under the edge of her shirt and pull it up and over her head.
He turned her slowly then unfastened her bra. It was a creamy creation with lace see-through cups and at the site of her tawny nipples poking through, Dante took a stuttered breath. Why did his dick decide to rear its disposition now of all times? And now that he thought about it, the idea that all those people were all over the house only made him that much more aroused. Skimming her shoulders with his fingertips, he pushed the straps down her arms and the wisp of material drifted off to fall to the floor without a sound.
What was it he resolved to earlier about intentions? And wasn’t there something about the road to hell being paved with them?
Before he could stop himself, Dante wound her long hair around his left fist and pulled it up off her neck then descended on her, flicking his tongue along the arc between her throat and shoulder. How many nights had he laid beside her, his dick hard as a rock? Wanting her with his entire being? Frustrated? He followed the path of her shoulder blade with open mouthed kisses. Julie initially tensed beneath his touches then her muscles went lax one at a time until she was a pliable mound of heated, female flesh at his disposal. Her chest rose in quick jumps as her breathing took on an almost grasping quality. And did he dare believe that was a low groan that escaped her throat?
"Let me take care of you, love. Please. You’ve been without relief for so long," he murmured up the side of her neck before taking her earlobe between his lips and pulling. This elicited a moan that she sucked in and swallowed before it erupted into a cry. "Just let go. Don’t analyze it, love. Just let me in. Let this happen."
With his fingers grazing down her arm, he settled his mouth over the base of her neck and sucked as Julie began to tremble at his touches. When he wound his arm around her waist and pulled the fly of her jeans, releasing all the buttons at once, she melded into his frame and didn’t protest. He inched his hand down the front and palmed her mound over the top of the satiny panties that matched the bra at her feet.
"Say yes, love. I don’t want any misunderstandings about this."
"Yes," she breathed, moving to push her jeans down her hips and stepping out of them, kicking them to the side. "Yes, Sir. Please."
Turning loose of her hair and letting it cascade down her bare back, Dante planted a line of kisses down her side, moving to his knees behind her, tugging her panties down to nip at her hips. He worked the flimsy piece of material down her legs and helped her step out of it before turning her. When he did, musky woman floated off her and hit him square in the chest.
Dear God, how long had he waited to get that reaction from her? While he ran two fingers between her bare pussy lips to find her not just damp but dripping with need, he pressed his tongue along the juncture of her hip, skimming her pubis and back up her other hip. Content in the knowledge he’d done that to her, Dante stood and led her to the edge of the bed where he helped her lay back. Once again he went to his knees in front of her, spreading her legs and inching his way between them. Her pussy glistened and pulsed, greedy and wanting. His mouth watered and his heart sped up.
Slow down. Now that Dante had her where he wanted her, he sure didn’t want to seem like a teenager out for his first fuck. In and out in thirty seconds flat, the victim lying confused, wondering what had happened. Not only that, but with some degree of guilt for even thinking such a thing, he realized he was up against some stiff competition in the form of a ghost. He had to make this good or he’d lose her again, quite possibly for good. Give her the attention she deserves.
Sitting back a bit, he ran his hand down the outside of her right leg and lifted it, resting her heel on his shoulder. He turned and flicked his tongue against the delicate bone there, circling then settling his lips over it to suck. A barely discernible gasp made its way toward him and he continued his trek up the inside of her calf until he found the dimple at the juncture of her knee. Apparently that was a favored spot as her toes curled up and a low, breathy grunt found life as she clutched the comforter. Dante worked the spot for some time, watching her breasts rise and fall in rhythm with her hitching attempts at air until her breathing became shallow and intermittent. Finishing his ministrations on her right leg, he eased her foot back to the floor and reached for the left one, repeating the motions he’d just performed until he was sucking at the inside of her thigh and his fingers played at the underside where it met the firm flesh of her backside. It was when Julie’s eyes fluttered open, Dante figured out just how far gone she really was. Her gaze was fuzzy and unfocused as she stared at him through hooded lids.
Holy shit. Was that the secret she kept from every Dom within a tri-county area for so long? Mason had landed a rare gem when he’d hooked her. Julie could fall off the edge of reality with a few flicks of the wrist and some tender touches. She was one of those subs that went to the outer reaches at just the thought of being dominated and here she was perfectly pliable under Dante's hands and he hadn't had to land a harsh touch to her in any way, shape, or form. How in the hell had they kept anyone else from figuring this out all these years? This was all it took? All this time Dante thought Mason’s methods were unconventional, but he was also aware that Julie was an edge player and he never really cared for Mason’s interpretation in that arena. Scare tactics. Julie got off on that, but what was wrong with a little bit of good old fashioned pain? A paddling? A flogging? Then he wondered just how far he could take her if she’d let him introduce her to those things. The possibilities were endless. He could probably do things to Julie he couldn’t even do to Blake.
"Love, can you hear me?" Dante asked q
uietly.
Her answer came in the form of a humming affirmation.
"Are you okay?"
A long, exhausted breath was followed by another positive noise of some sort. It was almost amusing how compliant she was. And now that he had her there, did he dare press her a bit?
Just as he was about to sink his teeth into her clit, the dull roar of a football game made its way up the hall and he was reminded that about two dozen people were probably wondering where he and Julie had gone by now. Any kind of boundary pressing would have to wait. However, he was under no circumstances going to let her hang on the edge like this without finishing the job. Rising to his feet, Dante unbuttoned his shirt, took it off and tossed it to the chair in the corner then proceeded to shed the rest of his clothes in quick fashion before aiding Julie to the middle of the bed. He wormed his way between her legs and leaned down, licking the seam of her lips before slipping his tongue between them, tangling with hers, savoring her spicy warmth. Dante pulled back and moved to her ear, caressing the shell of it then taking the lobe between his lips as he sheathed himself in her wet heat.
Holy God. A primitive groan flew from him to mix with her contented sigh as he slid deeper, stopping to imprint the moment in his memory bank.
"Jesus Christ, you feel good, Jules," he murmured in her ear. "Can you tell me what you need?"
Even though he’d just been with his husband the night before, being with her was another entity altogether and Dante found himself quickly dissolving. He knew if he couldn’t figure out how to get her there and quick, he’d leave her behind. He didn't want that.
"Touch me," she said, clasping his forearms.
Dante wasted no time running one arm between them to find her clit, raking his fingers across the hardened bump that twitched at his touch. Julie’s pants told him he was doing something right and he increased the pressure and sped up, thrusting almost in time to his caresses. A keening, guttural noise started from somewhere deep within her that rattled his senses.