by Tara Sue Me
Page 24
Author: Tara Sue Me
I began thrusting, blocking everything out of my mind except her. The feel of her around me. The way her muscles clenched each time I plunged into her.
Our bodies slammed against the table. We really shouldn’t have been doing this. It could get her in trouble. But I couldn’t stop.
As I drove us both toward release, I knew. I could never get enough of her and I could never stop. I should have realized it years ago when it became impossible to stay away from her. Recognized it when she walked into my office weeks ago. Admitted it when I took her for the first time. I was in too deep. Her scent, her touch, her very essence. They were part of me.
Afterward, while we collected our clothes and straightened ourselves up, I brought up the subject of the car again.
“I’ve been giving some thought to what you said about the car issue. ”
Fierce determination colored her face, but her voice was calm. “You have?”
I matched her calm tone, knowing I’d made the right decision. “I’ve decided not to press the issue. ”
“What?”
“The idea made you extremely uncomfortable, and though part of me still thinks it’d be safer for you to drive, your mental well-being is just as important to me. I won’t have you ever thinking you’re a whore. ”
She looked shocked. “Thank you. ”
“Give and take, Abigail, that’s what relationships are. ” I turned so she wouldn’t she what the next admission cost me. “I appreciate you being honest with me about your feelings. I have difficulties with that myself. ”
She jumped from the table. “Maybe we can work on that together. ”
A cold chill ran through me, but I shrugged it off and opened the door. “Maybe. ”
I led her down the stairs to the main floor. “We need to be at the airport at four on Friday. If that time doesn’t work for you, let me know. You have my number. ”
“Four o’clock should be fine. I’ll call you if there’s a problem. ”
We stood at the front door.
“Until then,” I said, lifting a hand to stroke her cheekbone.
Abby didn’t call, but Kyle’s mom did. His fever hadn’t gone down and, as a result, he wouldn’t be able to come to the Super Bowl. I talked with him on Thursday afternoon, told him there was always next season and that if the Yankees made it to the World Series, I’d do anything I could to get tickets.
On Friday at four, Abby met me at the terminal where I kept my jet. Her eyes swept over the plane.
“Good afternoon, Abigail. Thank you for making arrangements to leave work early. ”
She took my hand and we walked up the stairs into the cabin. The pilot waved from the cockpit. “We’ll be ready for takeoff shortly, Mr. West. ”
I led her to our seats and she sat beside me, with her hands in her lap. Every once in a while, she glanced around the cabin and then smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles from her pants.
Of course she felt anxious, I thought. All this was new to her. I needed to reassure her, let her know what to expect. After all, we would be in public and with my family and close friends for most of the weekend.
We had a few minutes before the flight attendant entered the cabin.
Abby took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“I want to discuss the weekend with you,” I said, and her eyes opened. They were full of gratitude. “Your collar will remain on. You are still my submissive. But my aunt and Jackson have no need to know of our private life. ”
I wondered if Felicia had told Jackson anything, but then decided she must not have. Her boyfriend’s cousin’s sex life probably wasn’t too high on the list of topics Felicia wanted to discuss.
“Also, you will not address me as Master, sir, or Mr. West. If you try, you can avoid using my name at all. ” I met her eyes. It was a delicate balance, living as we did, but it was doable. “You will not call me by my given name unless it is unavoidable. ”
She nodded.
“Now, today,” I said, unable to keep the excitement from my voice, “you’re going to learn about control. ”
The flight attendant walked into the cabin. “Can I get you or Ms. King anything, Mr. West?”
“No. We’ll page you if we need anything. ”
She smiled. “Very good, sir. ”
“She’ll spend the remainder of the flight with the pilot unless we need her,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and holding out my hand. “Which we won’t. Come with me. ”
I took her into the plane’s small bedroom and closed the door. “Remove your clothing and get on the bed. ”
Abby had marked wax play on her checklist as “willing to try. ” Wax play with real candles could become very intense, and I didn’t want to move too fast by using my usual soy or paraffin candles. Instead, I’d ordered a special candle wax for her. This one turned to body oil when heated. Its melting point was lower than either soy or paraffin. It would be the perfect way to start her out.
As Abby undressed, I went over to the small dresser and took out the battery-operated warming bowl I’d turned on earlier. The candle had melted nicely. I dipped a finger in the wax to test the temperature. Just right. I slipped a blindfold into my pocket.
Abby lay n**ed on the bed. Perfect submission. Not a bit of hesitation. Even with a flight attendant within calling distance.
I set the bowl on the floor, then took Abby’s arms and stretched them out so they were spread wide. “Stay like this and I won’t tie you up. ”
I took the bowl and sat on the edge of the bed. “This is a battery-operated hot plate. Normally, I’d use a candle for this, but the pilot won’t allow it. And rules are rules. ”
And, most of the time, I followed the rules.
A tremor of excitement ran down her body and her ni**les hardened. Her breath hitched. Just for a second.
Oh, yes. She wanted this.
I took the blindfold from my pocket. “This works better blindfolded. ”
I secured the blindfold around her head, once more gauging her reaction, making sure she was willing to proceed. Her body shook with anticipation. “Most people find the sensation of the heat very pleasurable. ”
I tipped the bowl so a drop of wax landed on her upper arm. Just a drop, on a safe area of her body—the best place to test both the wax and Abby’s response. She hissed, but it was a sound of pleasure. I rubbed the oil into her skin, explaining what it was and how it worked.
As I tipped the bowl again, another drop fell on her opposite arm, and I gently rubbed it in, massaging her. Her skin felt soft and supple under my fingers. I slowly dribbled more oil onto her, always gentle, always taking my time, making her body more relaxed, slowly igniting the fire within, rewarding her trust with every pass of my hands. Showing her how absolute submission would be rewarded. It was an important step in my plan for the evening—to work her body into an absolute frenzy so she would enjoy what would happen after dinner.
I glanced at the clock. We had another ten minutes before she needed to get dressed. How would she react to this next part? I dipped my finger into the bowl, collecting melted wax, and dropped it on her nipple. A half gasp, half moan escaped from her.
I rubbed the oil in, palming her breast in the process. “Do you like the heat, Abigail?” I whispered in her ear, flicking another drop on the other nipple.
She moaned.
Yes, she liked it. She craved it.
I tipped the bowl a little more, and a stream of wax dribbled over her breasts. Then I set it down and straddled her, massaging her body with long, firm strokes. Up and over her breasts, along the line of her torso, rubbing the oil in thoroughly. Once more doing my best to relax her, to build her anticipation.
“Control, Abigail. To whom do you belong? Answer me. ”
“You,” she whispered.
“That’s right. And by the end of tonight, you’ll be beg
ging for my cock. ” If I did everything right, that was. “If you’re good, I might just let you have it. ”
I slipped off the bed to give her time to relax and to anticipate the night to come. I walked to one of the windows and looked outside. We were approaching the Tampa airport—Abby needed to get dressed. My flight crew had stocked the plane’s refrigerator before we took off. I took out a cold bottle of water and returned to the bedroom.
Abby was still on the bed, arms stretched out, eyes covered.
I sat beside her and ran a finger over her shoulder. “Abigail. ”
She turned her head to me.
I untied the blindfold and she looked at me with her trusting eyes. “It’s time for you to get dressed. ” I took her arms, brought them close to her body. “I brought you some water. ”
She licked her lips and I smiled.
We checked into our suite at the hotel and I showed Abby her room. We had an hour before we met everyone for dinner, plenty of time for us to get ready.
She appeared in the suite’s living room later, dressed and looking absolutely beautiful.
“Very nice, but go back and remove the hose. ” Her eyes questioned me. “I want you totally bare beneath that dress. I want you to go out knowing I can lift your skirt and take you anytime I want. ”
I wouldn’t, of course, not tonight. Not with my family with us, but Sunday . . . All bets were off in the football stadium.
She turned and went back to her room, returning moments later.
“Lift the skirt. ”
Her fingers fumbled, but she pulled the hem of the skirt up to her waist and I saw that there was nothing but Abby beneath the dress.
“Now we’re ready,” I said, holding out an arm to her.
Jackson had secured reservations at a downtown steakhouse. An excellent plan, considering how crowded the downtown area was. We pushed our way through the mass of humanity, finally making it inside the restaurant.
Everyone sat at a large table in the middle of a large room. Many of the patrons ogled Jackson, but no one approached him. After Abby and I sat down, she made polite small talk with Linda and Elaina. While she talked naturally with everyone, I sat back and watched her, joining in the conversation to tease her only when she told them our flight had been “fine. ”
The waiter poured us both wine. Excellent. Abby needed to be very relaxed by the time we made it back to our room. I, on the other hand, would limit myself to one glass. I made it a point never to drink more than a glass of wine before a scene. Besides, what I planned tonight would take my utmost concentration; I didn’t need alcohol clouding my judgment.
I glanced to my side. Abby read over the menu with a troubled look on her face. I rebuked myself for not thinking of the menu beforehand.
“The lobster bisque is excellent,” I told her. “So is the house Caesar. I would also recommend either the filet or the strip steak. ”
Relief washed over her face and she closed the menu. “Lobster bisque and filet, then. ”
Conversation carried on easily and everything went smoothly until Todd discovered that Abby had graduated from Columbia. For several minutes, they compared favorite hangouts and memories. A warning bell sounded in my head. I needed to change the subject and change it quickly. What if Todd remembered my obsession with a Columbia coed? Would he bring it up to Abby? I wasn’t sure. Elaina and Todd loved to tease me. He just might. I interrupted the conversation, contributing stories about my favorite Dartmouth haunts and memories. Elaina joined in the conversation, and slowly but surely, talk drifted away from the powder keg of Columbia.
I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my attention to Abby. It was time for part two of my plan.
Chapter Twenty-one
The conversation around the table continued as I slipped my hand under the table and brushed Abby’s kneecap. Caressed. Stroked. Teased.
“Abby,” Linda said, “I keep meaning to call you for lunch. This coming week isn’t good. How would the next Wednesday work for you?”