by Penny Wylder
“I’m going to stay with you? You won’t leave?”
His hand strokes through my hair, and my eyes close. I can feel sleep rising like a tide, relaxation flowing through me. “I’m not going anywhere.” The bed dips, and Matthew stretches out beside me, still stroking my hair.
I sigh, smiling, because somehow this is perfect. “Thank you, Master.”
There’s a soft hiss of breath and my eyes fly open. I’m suddenly awake and I realize what I said. Matthew’s staring at me, and the look on his face is one I’ve never seen before. It’s awe and joy and shock all mixed into one. I didn’t even realize I was saying it, it just came out.
I’m shaking with the adrenaline that’s just been put through my system, and my gut is churning. I’m not sure what this means. Where do we go from here? I’m waiting for some kind of grand speech, or an explanation of what this means, but Matthew doesn’t do that. Instead, he smiles. A pure smile that I know isn’t one he shows often. It’s a private smile, and this one is just for me. He slides his fingers around the back of my neck and tilts my face so that he can kiss me. “You’re welcome, sub.”
That’s all he says, but he never looks away. We stay that way, side by side, eyes locked, until my exhaustion takes over once more and I can’t keep my eyes open.
Fifteen
I come awake slowly for the second time. The first time was when Matthew rolled over me in the night and we had slow, sleepy sex that resulted in a deep and shuddering orgasm that I’m not going to forget anytime soon. One reminder that he could do that—that my arms chained to the headboard allowed him to do what he liked with me, and I was so wet that I might as well have been a faucet.
This time though, I feel his arm draped across my stomach, and then I hear the long, deep breaths of sleep. I shift, rolling onto my side as much as I can to look at him. I feel like I’m stealing something from Matthew, seeing him so relaxed and unguarded. I let my eyes explore, from his lashes—which are long and unfairly pretty—down to the perfect planes of his chest and stomach. If my arms were free I would take this moment to explore with my fingers and wake him up in a manner that I’m sure he would find enjoyable.
My stomach growls. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten, since our lunch was interrupted by me freaking out. I glance back up to Matthew’s face and his eyes are open. He has a playful smirk on his face. “Hungry?”
“It would appear so.”
“I’ll make sure there’s breakfast waiting for us.”
I sigh. “Yeah. I suppose I’ll have to go after that. I need to get to work. I told them that I’d be late today, but I still need to go.”
Matthew props himself up on an elbow. “And why, exactly, would I let you go anywhere? You lost the bet.”
“I did not,” I say, my stomach dropping. “Just because I said that last night doesn’t mean I lose. I never admitted I was submissive.”
“As I recall,” he says with a lazy smile, “You said that letting me tell you what to do scared you, but that you wanted it.”
I freeze. Crap. I did say that.
“Which according to our bet makes you mine for the next thirty days.”
He starts kissing my neck, and even though it feels amazing, my anxiety is spiking. “Matthew, I made this bet never thinking that I would lose. I said it, and I admit that you win, but I can’t stay. I don’t have thirty days of vacation and I can’t lose my job.”
“You’re not going to, it’s already taken care of,” he says, reaching up and freeing my arms from the headboard. He doesn’t give them back to me though, clipping my wrists together.
I look at him expectantly. “Would you like to share how? Because I’m freaking out. A lot.”
Matthew sits back against the headboard and pulls me to him, holding me close. “When we made the bet, I called Jones & Burke and hired them as my new PR firm. I also had them draw up a contract specifying that I would have a personal publicist for thirty days. I haven’t activated it yet, but all I have to do is have you sign and call to tell them that I choose you.”
I blink. “You were that sure that you were going to win?”
He laughs and it vibrates through my chest. “No, actually. I was going to do it either way. I knew from the moment I met you that you’d be good at your job. You’re passionate and opinionated and you’re not afraid to tell people they’re wrong or try to get them to see your point of view. So even if this didn’t work out, I wanted you putting out the good word about my company.”
This is the first time in my life that I ever remember being speechless. There are literally no words in my head.
“So,” he says, wrapping me tighter, “you can stay here with me and keep up your end of the bargain, while working with me as my personal representative from Jones & Burke.”
I swallow. “That’s a huge promotion. They’re going to be pissed.”
He chuckles, “The amount of money I’m paying them, they’ll be just fine. But for the next thirty days you’re mine.” Those last words are almost a growl.
“And how exactly am I going to work while I’m here?”
Matthew lays me back so we can see each other face to face. “Just like we talked about. We’ll set time limits. For a certain amount of time each day, you’ll be my publicist and not my submissive, and the rest of the time I get to do what I like with you.”
I think about that. About staying here, being with him, submitting to him all the time. How would that be? Do I really want that? The little voice that’s been whispering doubts in my mind the past few days is roaring now, telling me that if I leave I’m a fucking idiot who would be walking away from the best thing that’s ever happened. But I don’t want to be forced into it, so I have a final question.
“And if I really did want to leave? If I said no to the money but no to the month too?”
His face is guarded, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Then you can leave whenever you like. Do you want me to call the car?”
I let myself drift between the decisions for a moment. And I know. I know that if I walk away, I’ll always regret it. I shake my head, “No. I want to stay.”
He kisses me so fast it makes my head spin. “You have no idea how much I wanted you to say that.”
“I’m not going to make it easy on you,” I say. “I’m not just going to be a good girl.”
The smirk is back. “That’s what makes it fun. If I never got to punish you I’d be disappointed.” He kisses me again, silencing a retort that probably would have started off a round of punishments. “Now,” he says, “before we go sign those papers, we’ll be starting that other rule we talked about.”
“What other rule?” I can’t help but notice that he’s hard behind me, and I have no doubt that it has something to do with this rule.
“That every morning before you leave my bed, my cock will be in your mouth. It’s the only way to start the day off right.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
He sighs with faux drama. “I’m afraid it is.”
“Are you going to let me have my hands?” I ask, raising my cuffed wrists.
“And make it easy on you? Not a chance.”
“Sadist,” I mutter under my breath.
Matthew weaves his fingers in my hair, tilting my head back so that we’re eye to eye. “Maybe a little bit, now get down there and suck my cock before I have to punish you for disobedience.” He kisses me, and god, I’ll be damned but the thought of getting punished is turning me on now.
I smile at him when he lets me go. “Yes, Master.” And I sink down underneath the sheets.
Sixteen
Thirty Days Later
It’s the last day. Neither of us have said anything about it, but we both know that tomorrow is the day that the bet ends. We haven’t talked about what happens, and I haven’t wanted to. The last month has seemed like a dream, and I don’t think I want to wake up. In fact, all of this has been more like waking up. Like everything before was muddled and
hard and this has been bright and easy and perfect.
I’m kneeling in the playroom, naked and waiting. It’s been awhile, but I’ve learned to wait. Matthew was right, the pose doesn’t hurt after you get used to it, and it’s actually become relaxing. Almost centering. How I got here, I don’t think I’ll ever know, but deciding to embrace submission suddenly feels like being able to breathe. There’s freedom in being able to let go and let Matthew take the lead. Just like he described when he was talking about the life he wanted with a sub, we’ve found our way, experimenting with boundaries and how much control works for us.
The door opens, and my heart starts to beat faster. He walks over to our chair—the same chair he held me in on that first day—and sits. “Come over here, Emma.”
I stand and move, kneeling at his feet. It’s all so new, but I’m still amazed at how natural this feels. Matthew leans forward and tilts my face up, giving me permission to raise my head. “I think we need to talk, and right now we’re not talking as Dom and sub.”
“Yeah,” I say, my throat dry.
“You know what tomorrow is.”
I laugh nervously. “The date is pretty much burned in my brain.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
Shifting, I draw myself closer together, suddenly feeling the urge to hide. “I don’t know.”
He pulls at my hands covering my breasts. “Stop. You know how I feel when you try to hide.” I drop my hands. “You’re nervous?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Well,” he says. “There are a couple of things that we can do.” He pulls me up so that I’m sitting higher on my knees and I’m nestled between his legs. “If you want, all this can end. We can go our separate ways, and we’ll think of this as a great memory for the both of us. I don’t really want that.”
“Neither do I.”
He gives me a relieved smile. “Good. Another option is that we can continue on as we are now. Or, you can go home, and we’ll work out how this relationship will work living apart. And if those options don’t work, we’ll figure something else out.”
That’s a lot of options, and I don’t know what would be best. How could I go back to living by myself and also do this? It doesn’t seem possible.
Matthew clears his throat, “I know that whatever we choose, it’s a big step. But I have some things to say, and they might affect your decision.”
“I don’t even have a decision yet.”
He smiles. “I know, but I’m going to say this anyway.” He takes my hands and weaves our fingers together. “When I saw you at Lily and Mark’s wedding, I thought that you were beautiful, and I knew that you were submissive.”
“You still never told me how.”
“It was the way you looked at the kinky couples,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of my knuckles. “Even though you seemed nervous, you didn’t look afraid, and there was longing there. You wanted it, even if you couldn’t say it.”
I glare at him. “Damn Doms.”
“Did you just swear at me?”
“No, Sir.”
He chuckles. “Anyway. I liked you, and I had fun with you in those fifteen minutes, an even though you wanted nothing to do with me, I thought that if I could get you to admit what you really wanted I could send you on your way, and you’d be a little happier.
“But then you came here, and you were more than I ever expected. You responded so beautifully even when you were fighting me, and I found that dominating you was the most fun that I’d had in a long time, and I didn’t want you to go. And after this month, I still don’t want you to go.”
My heart skips a beat, and I feel myself go still.
Matthew pulls out a silver necklace. It’s delicate and feminine and it pools in his palm like liquid. “I know that I’ve told you a lot that you’re mine, and it was a part of the play. But I really do want you to be mine. My submissive.” He stops, and I see emotion spring onto his face. “I love you, Emma. I’m so in love with you, and if I had a choice, I’d never want you to leave. And this,” he says, holding out the necklace, “is a collar that would say that.”
Matthew told me about collars. About how serious couples in the lifestyle adopt them as a sign of commitment. They’re not offered lightly, and in some circumstances are just like an engagement ring. We talked about what it would mean for him, and even though it’s not marriage, it’s close. A step on the way to getting married. So him offering this to me isn’t a small thing.
My mind snaps back to his words and I feel my jaw drop. “You love me?”
“Yes,” he says. “I love you, Emma. More than I could say.”
Joy sweeps through me, and I feel the answering words about to burst from me. “I love you too!” I jump up, and slide into his lap, kissing him. “I love you.”
His arms come around me hard, and he returns the kiss, taking control of it, and I let him. I want to drown in him and never ever leave. Matthew pulls away long enough to look at me. “Will you stay with me?”
“Yes,” I say, pulling myself closer. “I want to stay with you.” And as I say it, I feel that same joy, like every piece of my life just clicked into place. I always want to feel this way. Always.
Matthew sets me down on the ground so I’m kneeling again, now facing away from him. “May I put this on?”
“Yes, Master.” I use the title to tell him that I know what this means. That it’s serious. And I get tiny goosebumps down my spine while he fastens the clasp.
“Now you really are mine,” he says in my ear, voice rough in my ear.
“I know,” I say.
“And now that you’re not leaving,” he says, “we have all the time in the world.”
I lean back against his legs. “What did you have in mind, Sir?”
“Stay here.” Matthew stands and goes to one of the large storage closets and pulls out a whole length of blue rope. “Stand.”
We’ve done this before, and I’m always amazed at the way he can twine rope around me in just minutes. He outlines my breasts and frames my hips, and two strands of rope are running between my legs on either side of my clit. “Sadist,” I mutter.
“Keep talking and you’ll pay for it later,” he says, chuckling.
I close my mouth. He wraps me tighter than we’ve done before, binding my arms to my body. And then he sits me down and binds my legs so I’m bent back over them. There’s no way that I can move, and I’ve grown to like the sensation. It’s comforting, and I don’t need to know what comes next. All he could have planned is this and I would enjoy it. I have enjoyed it. One day he tied me up with rope and kept me next to him while he worked, and the tension that was between us as he occasionally looked over and touched me, made the sex after absolutely explosive.
He attaches more rope by my stomach and threads it close to my neck and hips. “Something new,” he says, lifting me off the floor. “Suspension.”
“Really?” My heart rate kicks up a notch. I trust Matthew completely, but the thought of a little rope holding me in the air is still nerve-wracking.
He settles me on the floor again, and the ropes are attached to the suspension rig. “Really,” he says. “You like tight bondage like this, and suspension heightens the feeling of helplessness.” As if to prove his point, he pushes a button and I’m lifted into the air. My stomach lurches, and I sway back and forth. I don’t feel at all like I’m going to fall, but he’s right, that helpless, vulnerable feeling that both calms me and sends me to the edge is right there.
I hear the sounds of him getting undressed, and he appears next to me naked and glorious and already hard. He guides my mouth towards his cock. “The perfect height for this.”
He slides into my mouth with ease, and he steadies me in the air as he guides my cock into my throat. Every morning I suck his cock, and now I not only know what he likes, but I’ve gotten far better about taking his length. I love the sound he makes when I swallow him in my throat, and I do it now just to hear it. It’s
somewhere between a growl and a moan and he grips my hair to guide me deeper. “Naughty,” he whispers, and if my mouth wasn’t full of him, I’d grin.
Matthew slowly fucks my mouth and throat, taking his time. He likes to take his time, both to take his pleasure the way he likes it and to show me that I have no control. It works, and I’m already soaking wet. I may be dripping onto the floor. He lifts his balls into my mouth and I suck them the way he likes, hard and slow, using my tongue to swirl back and forth. “Good girl,” he groans, pulling them back. I smile at him, and he reaches down and draws a finger along the line of my necklace. “I like the way that looks on you.”
“I like the way it feels.”
He smirks and spins me around so my pussy is pressed against his cock. “I think you’re going to like the feeling of this more.” His cock plunges in, and I moan. God, I never get tired of the way that first thrust feels. I’m full and perfect and right now with the way the ropes are tight between my legs, he feels even bigger, and each thrust causes delicious friction on my clit.
He stands still, using the ropes to pull me onto his cock, and the rhythmic rocking onto his cock is amazing. He’s using my own body to fuck me, and I can’t do anything about it. Familiar and exquisite heat spreads through me, the thought of my position and predicament always gets me close. And now that I’m hanging, nothing but the ropes he bound me with keeping me from falling, it’s that much stronger.
My breath is coming in short gasps, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Matthew thrusts again and again and I have to come. “Please Master, may I come?” He likes it when I call him Master. He likes it so much that he’s more likely to let me have an orgasm.
“You may,” he says, grinning.
He pulls me onto his cock, and I go over the edge. It’s a smooth, rippling orgasm that spreads from my pussy to my spine and out, sweet pleasure flaring and fading just as fast. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.”