She blinks at me. “Just like that?”
I shrug. “Meadow really likes your muffins.”
She winks. “And you really like Meadow.”
Was it that fucking obvious to everyone who isn’t me and Meadow? “Yeah, I do.”
“Are these for her?” She gestures to the tray she’s just pulled out of the oven.
I nod.
She tuts her tongue against her teeth and shakes her head. “Middle of the night muffins for your woman. Must have been something.”
The something is that I wasn’t clear enough that she is my woman, no matter what. I got mad and I left without saying why. Without explaining.
I’ll fix that.
“Yeah, it was something all right.”
She carefully sets four muffins in a cardboard carryout box, then sprinkles a couple of sugared flower petals across the top before closing it up. “Make it right, Bas. I like the way your mind works when she’s inspiring you.”
I take the box gratefully. “Me, too.”
I make it as far as the door before I turn around. “Tessa?”
“Yeah?”
“Does your Tarot deck say anything about this moment?”
She grins. “You sure you want to know?”
I nod. I do.
She pulls it out from behind the counter and carefully hands it over. “Shuffle this, and as you do that, think of your question. The more specific the better. Then take one, and I’ll read it for you.”
I take the cards and rifle them. I’m not as sure as I should be on this question, but I know my energy. I know myself.
I pull a card from the middle and hand it over.
Tessa grins as soon as she looks at it. “Oh, Bas, the cards never lie.” She flips it over so I can see it, not that I know what they mean. “This is the Page of Swords, and he is so you. Stubborn, energetic, an excellent negotiator. But he can also mean that you’ve got a lot of decisions to make, and quickly. If you are looking for a yes or no answer to a question, the Page of Swords is a clue that you’re smart and capable, and if you’ve settled whatever has held you back in the past, going forward you should say yes.” She pauses. “I don’t want to assume this is Meadow related, but hell, man, say yes.”
I grin and set the rest of the deck on the counter. “Have no fear, Tessa.”
When Meadow answers the door, she’s no longer wearing the remnants of her costume. Instead, she’s changed into an over-size t-shirt.
Dropping the box of muffins on the small table by the door, I crowd Meadow up against the wall, her hands splayed against my chest.
“Stop it, Bas.” She shoves at me, but I’m ten times bigger than her. I don’t move. She glares at me. “What are you doing?”
“Having the rest of a conversation.”
“It’s not nice to hold a girl against the wall, you know.”
“I’m not a nice man.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s the truth. I didn’t listen to you. And now I’m pinning you against a wall. What would you call that?”
“You’re not a nice man,” she whispers, and her pupils dilate.
I shake my head. “I’m a bastard in so many ways. But you make me nice. And if you’ve got secrets, so do I. I thought you were too good for me. Too kind, too sweet. Not dirty enough.”
She blushes, and stupid me would have thought that proved my point, but I’m wide awake to all the different ways Meadow is delightfully filthy now. “I’m pretty dirty,” she says softly, and it’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Yeah you are. So the question now is, what do you want to do next?”
She licks her lips. “I lied to you.”
My craven impulses could not have been more on point. “Do you want to be punished for that?”
A soft, sweet whimper slides across her lips. “Would that be okay?”
Fucking hell. I grin broadly. “Yeah, baby. That would be more than okay.”
“Do you… I mean, how would you…”
I lean all the way in, closing the space between us to nothing but dark heat. “I’ve got all sorts of ideas, little one. Six months of fantasies to make up for. Six months of secrets to punish you for. But I think it would be a reward to tell you what I want to do. That would be too easy. Too nice. So I want to make you say it. Tell me what you think should happen. Be brave, Meadow. Tell me. Where do you want to begin? What did you think the first time you saw me?”
“Your hands,” she pants. “They’re what I noticed first.”
“How big they are?”
“Yes.” It’s a whisper now. Her voice is shaking, and that gets to me. Right in the middle of my selfish chest.
“What did you want, Meadow? Tell me. Anything.”
“I wanted you to spank me.”
“Right from the very beginning?”
“Yes.”
“And you kept that from me?”
Her voice breaks. “Y-es.”
“Why?”
“Because you were always…”
“With someone else?” That’s not really true, though. There were breaks. “How many women have I been with in the last six months?”
Her face twists as she thinks. “A few.”
“For how long?”
She whimpers. “Not long.”
“None of them were you, little one.”
She cries out now, and it hurts me. But I push on.
“I wanted you, too. Don’t you know that now? And you were so tangled up in your secrets that you couldn’t see it.”
Her eyes squeeze shut and she nods. Slowly, carefully, I cover her wrists with my hands. I squeeze, and she shudders. “I’ll spank you tonight, then. We’ll start there. But I’ll want more. A lot more.”
She gasps, and another jolt of need zaps through me.
“Will you want more, too?” I know the answer, though. I can feel her pulse racing against my grip, see her body slowly writhing against me.
“Yes,” she whispers. “All of it. Anything.”
I should take her back to bed. Fuck her senseless. Spank her first, of course. Then fuck her red bottom until she comes on my cock in a slippery mess.
Except now we’ve headed in a different direction, one with rules. I clear my throat. “We need to discuss limits.”
“Okay.” A breathy, perfect response.
I grin down at her. “What are yours?”
She blinks. “I don’t know.”
That trips me up. “Pardon?”
She shrugs, and her too-big t-shirt slides dangerously low on her chest. I could get completely distracted by her freckles.
I want to count every single dot on her body.
And I will, but later. First, we need to get some boundaries clearly set out so I don’t fucking break her perfect little self.
“I can’t imagine anything I wouldn’t let you do to me,” she whispers.
I growl. For real, out loud, I make a feral noise that’s half outrage, because what the fuck, that’s not okay. And half, holy fuck, because it’s also everything I’ve ever dreamed of. “That’s fucking hot,” I say, my voice full of grit and want. And control. Somehow, I hold the fuck onto that. “But everyone has limits.”
“Really?” she asks. “Because I’ve thought about, like, everything, and if you’re doing it, it sounds awesome.”
I’m pretty sure my control is about to go out the fucking window. “Tell me.”
“I want you to fuck me. Like, rough. Hard. Out of control. Pull my hair, spank me, even put your hand around my throat. Use…things on me. Uh…ropes sound cool.” She inhales quickly. “Tie me to a fucking chair, and force your big, fat cock into my wet, little mouth.”
Sweet, glorious Meadow. I step back so she can see me fully, and I drag her hands down to press against my cock, hard and heavy in my jeans. “That was very brave,” I tell her. “And an excellent list.” Then I catch her by her waist and swing her into the air. I grunt as she squeaks in prote
st. “Get your hot little ass into my lap for the rest of this conversation.”
She buries her face into my neck, her hair bouncing against my face. She smells like vanilla.
Of course I thought she was too pure for my depraved brand of filth.
And of course I was wrong.
“You deserve a redo on this,” I say as I move us to the couch in front of the fireplace. “On the whole God damn thing. You deserve for me to say something when we first met. I didn’t do that.”
“I didn’t either.”
“Good. We’re both on the same equal footing. I’ve heard that’s important in relationships.”
I sit down and arrange her in my lap so I can see her face. “I want to do everything you said. I like pushing my partners a little bit out of their mind, freeing them to feel a blissful combination of nothing and everything. But that line is different for everyone, and sometimes different at any given time. I have a hard limit on blood play, for example.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s a limit for me, too, I guess.”
“See?”
“I know you have more experience with this than I do,” she murmurs, her cheeks turning pink. “I guess I just got excited.”
“I like excited. And I don’t want to bog us down with rules. Sex doesn’t need to follow any kind of script. But talking about it can be hot. It can also be…” I think back to earlier, how I hustled out of her bed. “Vulnerable,” I admit. “Like before. I got my back up about you keeping stuff from me. But you had your reasons, and the more I think about that, the more I understand. I want to understand, anyway.”
“There’s nothing more to it,” she says, her voice small. “I made a rash decision in the moment, and then hid it as we became friends. After a while, I resigned myself to just being friends, and it didn’t matter.”
“What about the last week?”
She makes a small, helpless sound, and her eyes well up. “I wanted tonight, too. The kinky street party, the dirty costume. You didn’t see me like that. You thought I was adorable.”
Ah, fuck me. “I see what I did there, little one. I’m sorry for that.”
“So we both have things to make up for,” she says softly.
I cup her face in my hand. “Yeah.”
The smile she gives me is beyond sweet. It’s perfect. And then—because she’s also filthy—she wiggles her ass in my lap.
“Are we done talking again, Meadow? Do you want me to take you over my knee?” I say it as evenly as I can. The answer might be no.
She nods and wiggles again, and yes, I’m done talking.
And that promised spanking might just be what we both need right now.
I flip her over my knee and slide the t-shirt up over her curvy bottom. Her skin is so pale, a perfect canvas. I rub my palm over one cheek, squeezing and tapping until it pinkens. She squirms beautifully in my lap, letting out adorable little mewling noises and my already aching cock is straining against my jeans, eager to be inside her tight little body again.
I continue peppering her skin with light smacks, and once I’m satisfied her ass is properly warmed up, I lay down my first real strike.
She tilts her hips forward into my thigh as she releases a long, low moan.
As I mark her entire bottom with my palm, she continues to rock against my leg.
I’ve spanked people before. I’ve played it bossy, I’ve let it be pure sex. It’s never been quite like this before. Both punishment and redemeption, erotic and free and controlled all at the same time.
“Do you want to come, little one?” I ask.
“Oh God, yes, please.”
I scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom where I peel her shirt up and off her delectable little body. She gives me a silly, half-buzzy smile as I step back to undress again.
This time, I won’t be getting dressed again until tomorrow.
Tonight, I want to feel her skin against mine all night long. I want to fuck her senseless and make her come so hard she sees stars. I want to fall into a deep, happy sleep with her wrapped in my arms. And in the morning, we’ll keep talking.
There’s so much still to discover.
No more secrets.
When I pull my shirt over my head, I realize I’m grinning, too. Maybe we’re both a bit spun-out on this whirlwind of a night.
“Hey,” she says, giggling.
“Do something for me,” I say quietly as I palm another condom and sit on the edge of the bed. “Do one of those ballet pirouette things, little one. I want a good look.”
Pleasure blooms over her face, and she lifts up onto her toes, turning slowly, letting me drink in the beauty that is mine to touch and tease and torment.
And love.
Halfway through her second revolution I drag her onto the bed because I’m naked and all out of patience.
Crawling between her legs, I rise up big and tall, and make a show of rolling on the condom.
“You know what I thought when I saw you this evening in your costume? You looked like a king,” she says softly. “I like that. My king. You look pretty regal right now, in a brutish, fuck-me kind of way.”
“I’ll be whatever you want,” I tell her with a growl as I cover her body with mine. I lace my fingers with hers and slide our hands above her head. I push my cock deep inside her as I press my lips to hers. She opens to me, and I lick into her mouth, fucking it with my tongue.
I’ll be her king. She can be my queen. And my little one. My sweet, adorable, sexy Meadow.
Epilogue
Meadow
Another six months later
It’s been a long, hard day that ended with an emergency C-section that came so heartbreakingly close to tragedy. And all I want when I get home is a long, hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book with a happy ending.
Bas leans over the bar and gives me a toe curling kiss. “Looks like you’ve had a rough day.”
“Little bit.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“I was thinking of taking a hot bath and forgetting it,” I admit.
He grins. “Fair enough. Did you get my text?”
I shake my head and pull out my phone, which I’d shoved in my bag when I left the hospital. I read the message in front of him.
Bas: I found something fun when I was reorganizing a closet. If you’re up for it, I want to play tonight.
I lift my head, suddenly less weary. Playtime sounds like an even better distraction. “Yes, please.”
He brushes his fingers over my jaw. “Good girl. I’ll make sure you get a bath at the end of the night, don’t worry. Head on up and get changed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
When I walk into our bedroom, I see my Halloween costume lying on the bed—without the leotard this time—with a big note pinned to it that says Put this on, then go immediately to the playroom.
The playroom. I giggle and do a happy dance.
Our apartment is really both of the apartments above the bar, with the wall knocked out in between. My old bedroom is at one end, this room is at the other—and since Bas had the bigger bed, this is the one we kept as a sleeping space.
The other room is now kink-central, a glorious space I love spending time in.
And it’s soundproof, because my man is as practical as he is sexy.
I quickly strip out of my clothes, and only when I'm fully naked, do I start dressing. First with the garter belt, then I roll on each black fishnet stocking. Once they’re attached, I step into the short tulle skirt then fasten myself in the corset, adjusting my boobs so my nipples poke out the top. Finally, I slide my feet into the ballet boots and lace them up.
So cute.
I try not to think about what Bas could have in mind for tonight beyond the fact that it will result in me being reduced to a puddle of thoroughly satisfied woman in his arms.
Bas is waiting for me in the playroom when I arrive. He’s wearing well-worn distressed blue jeans, my favourite, a black t-shirt that sho
ws off every muscle, and an evil grin.
“You look lovely, little one. I want you over there,” he says pointing to my right. There on the wall is a full-length mirror and what appears to be a barre. When did he install that?
“Today,” he answers. Of course he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Am I that predictable?
“Why?”
“Because a long time ago, you loved dance. And the thought of watching you practice turns me on. Win-win.” He cocks an eyebrow and nods his head towards the barre. “Stretch and warm up like you would at a ballet class.”
Oh. Okay, that’s hot. Yes, please. But as a point of order, I’m totally in the wrong shoes. “To do that, I’d need to change into proper footwear. If you prefer the boots, I can make them work.”
“I prefer the boots, but not if they could cause you injury, little one.”
I wink. “I can make the boots work. Tomorrow, though, I’m totally ordering slippers.”
His eyes darken in appreciation. “Please do.”
I approach the barre solemnly, everything coming back. It doesn’t matter that I’m no longer a hundred pounds soaking wet and I’ve got more curves than I used to for all of these poses.
Tonight, those curves are not going to be a problem. I don’t need to push myself to the limit, I don’t need to break my body to get this right. A shiver runs through me. I can just do what I want, and Bas is going to watch. It is a win-win, he’s right.
I choose a combination of positions to both stretch and warm up my muscles. I like this a lot. It’s fun to have his eyes on me, and it has the bonus of actually getting my body ready for whatever it is that Bas has planned. It’s also surprisingly relaxing to move my body like this after a long day of tight, controlled work. And I get to tease him mercilessly by not quite showing off my assets.
I know that’s working from the not-quite-silent sounds he makes as I stretch my limbs long and tall and low, giving him peeks that don’t last nearly long enough.
On the third low sweep of my hand, his growl is a warning. I lift my head and smile angelically. His jaw flexes and he crooks his finger. “I think that’s quite enough, little one. Come over here and bend over, legs spread as wide as you can with your palms on the floor.”
Cards of Love: Page of Swords Page 7