by CD Reiss
I rammed her, driving so hard and so fast I had to hold her hip to keep her steady. With every move, I aimed for her heart, to go deep enough to touch it, own it, crawl into it and expand it. My life was written there. I wanted to enter her and explode, covering the world in all-consuming fire. Inside. Deep. So deep we became linked at the soul.
“Ook!” she grunted, spit dribbling off her chin.
So sexy, the depths of her debasement. How far down she had to crawl to love me. I followed her stare to the couple across the street. They were watching. Her fingers were at her throat. His were in her hair as he said something in her ear.
“They’re going to worship you.” I reached around her, getting four fingers on her hard clit.
He was behind her now, rubbing his dick on her ass. Saying dirty things. One hand on her breast and the other reaching for the hem of her skirt. An R-rated version of the goings on in heaven.
“Look what you’re doing to them. God, Diana, you’re that sexy. That powerful.”
The woman pulled her skirt up as he dug his fingers down her underwear. She buckled at the same time as Diana. My wife’s voice came in a stream of long sounds. Her fingers curled against the glass.
“You want to come?”
She nodded.
“Wait for her.”
It didn’t take long for the woman’s back to arch. Her mouth opened, and he had to hold her up. Diana let loose, pulsing around me, knees stiffening, her legs going out from under her. She trusted me to hold her up, and I did, lightening the pressure of my fingers so her orgasm sat on the edge of pain without crossing into it.
She fell against me, limp and boneless, folding to her knees like a map.
I did that. I gave her so much pleasure she couldn’t stand, and she gave me the control to do it. I felt wrapped and right with the world.
“Beautifully done.” I took the flashlight out of her mouth.
“Oh, God. Thank you.” Her words were molded around her breaths. “For that. Sir.”
I looked in her face. She was high on endorphins, pliable and pleasured.
I was bigger on the inside than the outside. My dick was going to explode.
Taking her cheeks in one hand, I forced her mouth open and guided myself into it. She took it. All of it. Marked with ownership of her heart. Sweat-streaked. Mascara running black. Spit dripping, messy-haired, she opened her throat for me. I got two strokes in then pulled out.
“Look up.” I jerked myself with her body’s juice.
When she exposed her chest, I came on it, marking those words true.
I BELONG TO ADAM
HE BELONGS TO ME
ON THIS BODY AND IN THE BOOK OF LIFE, IT IS WRITTEN.
Chapter 52
“Last night, you tried to tell me something. While I was fucking you.”
The morning sun cracked the skyline at a little after seven. The days were getting longer, pushing out the nights of the longest, most miserable winter of my life.
“Which time?” Diana replied with sleep in her voice.
“In front of the window. With the flashlight in your mouth.”
“Mmm.” She didn’t say anything after that. I thought she’d forgotten the question. “Oh yeah. The north star.”
“What about it?”
“It’s steady in the sky. So if you were going to make me move around, you missed the point.”
“Thank God for the flashlight.” I kissed her shoulder and got out of bed. “I’m making breakfast. What you do you want?”
“You’re cooking?”
“I’m ordering in.” I got into last night’s pants
“Coffee. And scrambled eggs.”
“Okay, fifteen minutes.”
“And bacon.”
I kissed her. “Anything else?”
“Two pancakes. No. Three.” She held up three fingers. The bite mark on her ring finger was gone, and the bruising wasn’t more than a pale yellow. I was going to have to do something about that.
“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”
“I’m not. Just hungry. I’ve been too sad about Dad to eat.”
Laying my lips on her shoulder, I closed my eyes and told myself how much I loved her. More than the day I met her. More than the day she left me a note that hurt more than any other betrayal. More than I deserved.
“I’m going to knock you up or die trying.”
“Challenge accepted.”
When I was almost to the bedroom door, she stopped me. “I never filed the deed transfer, by the way. So half the loft is still yours.”
“A win for me.”
“The gospel according to Adam.”
“Amen.”
I left it there and called for breakfast. Serena was going to have to be dealt with. And Stefan. Their gossip could only be destroyed face-to-face. Probably with Diana present. I didn’t want her involved in that crowd. It had been a hard limit. I’d told myself it was because I didn’t trust the culture, but that wasn’t true. I hadn’t trusted her. I hadn’t trusted her stamina as a sub. My instincts had told me her submission wasn’t real.
The doorman buzzed as I set out the plates. Diana appeared out of the bedroom, hair still wet, wrestling her sweater on over jeans as she walked. She hit the button on the intercom with a flat slap.
“Is it food?”
“Yes,” the doorman squawked.
“Send him up.” She let the button go. “Hide the furniture. I’m going to eat anything that doesn’t move.”
“Sit.” I held the chair out for her.
She sat. I put the cloth napkin on her lap, but just as I was pushing her in, the doorbell rang. She was up like a shot, slapping the door open to a delivery guy holding a huge thermal bag with a receipt on top.
“Ah. Yes! Mine!”
“Sign, please,” the man said from behind the bag.
Diana slapped her pockets, looked around. “Pen.”
“I can’t get it,” said the delivery guy. “If you reach into my pocket—”
“I have it.” I got the pen I’d used to mark her the night before and signed on the dotted line. When he took the paper back, I noticed a tattoo on his hand and was inspired.
I wasn’t going to put a ring on her finger. I was going to do better.
She dug into her eggs and toast first. Watching her eat food I’d provided gave me a flood of satisfaction. She moved to the pancakes before I’d even finished my toast.
“Oh,” she said around a mouthful. “I found out about the window. So sad.”
“Really.”
“Yes. Are you going to drink your coffee?”
I popped the top off my cup and poured my coffee into hers.
“Remember Nadine?” She jammed a bite into the corner of her mouth while she spoke and sopped up maple syrup with a triangle of her next bite of pancake. “The kid with the blanket and Lego… hey. Wait a minute. You didn’t steal that child’s Legos?”
“I did not. Those were all new.”
“That would be truly sick.”
“The window, huntress. Stay with me.”
“Nadine’s soon-to-be ex-husband. So sad. It’s just getting uglier and uglier.” Her pace slowed. She poked at her next bite instead of shoving it in her mouth like a hostage.
“Do you think we could have become that?” I asked.
Her head cocked at a slight angle. One eyelid dropped a few degrees. She was trying to read me. “I don’t know. Except that you broke a window.”
I laughed. “I forgot about that.”
“Are you serious?”
I nodded and she laughed, dropping her fork as if she’d just heard the craziest thing she’d ever hear in her life.
I tapped my finger on the edge of my coffee cup, bent the plastic edge, then let it find its shape again. “Insolent,” I said.
“Can you drop it? How long are you going to—”
“I lied.” I interrupted her because she was upset at me for the wrong thing. She’d be plenty upset
at the right thing in a minute. “Not technically. He did live in his mother’s co-op, but he inherited it and it was really very nice.”
“Okay? So?”
“I let you think he was a threat so you’d be scared of other Dominants, but he wasn’t. At least not to your safety.”
“What kind of threat was he then?”
She wasn’t going to cut me any slack. She was going to drill down until I scraped the bottom of my worst behavior.
“I gave you the impression that he was a slob who never left the house.”
“And he’s not?” She squeezed more syrup onto her pancakes.
“He was… no. He’s not.”
“He was what, Adam? Come on. Don’t hold out on me. Was he tall? Handsome?”
Insolent had been sharply dressed, handsome if you’re into that kind of thing, calm, and well-spoken. He was Dominant without being a dick, and he’d had a good sense of humor about the entire thing. But I’d walked away from him with a nagging fear.
“I was pretty sure you could fall in love with him,” I said. “So I made him sound unattractive. It was petty, and I’m sorry.”
“If we see him at the Cellar, I want you to point him out. I’ll be the judge of who I can fall in love with, thank you.” She took a stack of pancake slices in her mouth and let the fork scrape her teeth on the way out.
“I’m letting my membership to the Cellar lapse,” I said, changing the subject.
“Why?”
“I have you. I don’t need the scene.”
She flipped open a Styrofoam container with the edge of her fork, revealing a stack of bacon in a napkin. The move wasn’t motivated by curiosity or hunger. It was too contemplative for that. It replaced words she wasn’t ready for.
“What?” I asked. “Nothing you say is going to turn me off.”
She smirked and speared a strip of bacon. “When we met, I didn’t think people needed to talk about sex. Then, five years in, I felt like I couldn’t talk about sex and I wanted to. And now, well, I guess I’m surprised by what I’m about to say.”
I let her bite the bacon and put the rest on her plate. I didn’t need to encourage her to finish her thought.
“Whether it’s the Cellar or not, it doesn’t matter. But…” She took a deep breath and looked down at her lap. “When people watch, it really turns me on. They can see you dominate me, and it’s like… that makes it valid and real. Three-dimensional. But because it’s you, it’s safe and I can get lost in it. Being your toy in front of people is like a drug. I see myself through their eyes and through yours. And I go out of myself…” She shuddered. Her eyes met mine, their blue as clear and intentional as the tide. “If you don’t want that, I can live without it, but I really like it. The Cellar seems like the best place to get it.”
I didn’t want to smile. I didn’t want to tell her what letting people watch did for me. The way it multiplied the effects of my domination exponentially.
“Can I think about it?” I asked.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She wasn’t. I’d claimed her. Earned her back. She’d been mine to accept or reject for weeks, but I hadn’t believed she’d stay until she did what she’d been too afraid to do when we were married. She told me what she wanted from our games.
Chapter 53
One week later
I’d left Diana at the loft with instructions to finger herself for five minutes every hour, but not come. No matter where she was—the store, the street, the office—she had to find a private place and think of me while she touched herself.
The Greens was packed for a weekday. I nodded at the maître d and walked right up to Charlie’s table. He was sitting with a sub I didn’t recognize. She was in her twenties with wavy brown hair spilling over her shoulders. Her posture was off, and she looked nervous with her skirt around her waist and her hands flat on the table.
I sat across from her.
“Hello to you too, mate,” Charlie said.
“I have to talk to you.”
“Of course you do.” He didn’t take his eyes off the sub. “Scarlett, open your legs and say hello to Adam. You’ll address him as ‘sir.’”
She shifted. I couldn’t see under the table, but I assumed she was spreading her knees.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“You staying for lunch?” Charlie asked.
“Nah. I came to thank you.”
“For?”
“Giving her that card. Insolent.”
“I thought you’d try to kill me.”
“I almost did, but I’ve heard about that cane.”
He smiled and yanked the handle off the cane halfway, until the silver blade was visible. “That cane?”
“Yeah. I’d have to disarm you then kill you. It’s way too much trouble.”
“You drove all the way from Montauk to tell me she loved you. You looked like a man who’d found a seam of gold. Then you turned into a massive twat. I should have put the knife on you.”
He had been happy. He’d practically handed me a cigar. When I told him I thought we could do it without being part of the community, that I could keep her safe from others seeing her submission, he’d agreed it was possible. Doable. Others had done it, so could we. I’d sped back to Montauk like a man on fire, only to find the kinky community had already infiltrated our relationship.
“Scarlett, sweetheart,” Charlie addressed the sub, “pick up your shirt. Show me those lovely tits. Let everyone see how hard your nipples are.”
Scarlett’s sharp breath rolled with arousal and shame.
“Then put both your hands back on the table for sixty seconds. Then use your right hand to touch yourself and be very quiet about it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” She grabbed the edge of her shirt.
I didn’t watch her finish. I didn’t want to see her tits. My exposure to other women was going to have to be dealt with.
“Good girl.” His last word drifted into the glass ceiling and a smile crossed his face.
I followed his gaze to the door. Serena was walking through the tables where people could only fit single file. This was where subs trailed Doms by three paces. She was only one step ahead of Stefan, who held her hand behind her.
Stefan saw us and tugged on Serena’s hand, then he whispered in her ear when she stopped. They both looked our way.
There was something different about her. She was dressed the same, in a spring-yellow polo and black slacks. Her heels were sensible and didn’t trip her up. Her hair was up in a twist and the bangs were pushed back. When she smiled and waved at us, the nature of the change became obvious.
“She did it,” I said.
“Apparently topping from the top is better than topping from the bottom.”
“What about Stefan?”
“He’s not going to change.” Charlie waved them over. “They’re going to try sharing subs. Scarlett’s about to try it. Aren’t you, Scarlett?”
Scarlett nodded, though her face was scrunched in pre-orgasm tension.
“Hold that thought,” Charlie said to her. “Until you’re told to let go.”
Serena walked as if marking territory. Surveyed the room as if it were her property. Took stock of Scarlett as if she could own her any time. Stefan looked like a proud parent. We greeted each other with kisses and handshakes. Serena kissed me quickly on each cheek.
“Hello,” she said, trying Dominant confidence on for size. She was about to sit at a table with her three Masters, as a Mistress. The difficulty only showed for a second.
“Nice to see you, Mistress.”
Stefan held the chair out for Serena. “So,” he said, “you’ve come to meet Scarlett?”
“No,” I replied, pushing in my chair. “I’m leaving. It’s been fun. Nice to meet you, Scarlett. Don’t boss these two around too much.”
Scarlett’s face twisted in strain. “Okay. Yes. Sir.”
“Will I see you in the club?” Serena asked, posture stra
ight and commanding. Had that always been there? No, I was sure it hadn’t been. People could change. They did it all the time.
“I don’t know.”
We said another quick good-bye, and I walked to the door. Turning for a second, I saw Serena whispering in Scarlett’s ear while Stefan and Charlie conducted business as usual.
I was about to get in the car when Serena caught me outside.
“Adam, are you… back there, you looked unsure.”
“I’m not.”
“Really? This doesn’t bother you?”
My approval was important to her. It was no more than that, and no less.
I hadn’t realized the extent of her hurt. She’d been nineteen, new to the scene, sheltered, a virgin, and as defenseless a sub as I’d ever handled. I’d been reckless. I knew enough about her to know what would make her vulnerable, and I’d exploited her need for acceptance and her desire to please the way I’d exploited those desires in any sub. For pleasure, pain, dominance. But she was new. She’d needed more care. She’d chosen me. She’d chased me. She’d topped from under Charlie and under me, and we’d let her hurt herself through us.
“Yes. Diana’s waiting. I have to go.”
She seemed relieved for a second, then she straightened up to a Dominant posture that would eventually become a habit. “Say hi for me.”
“I will.”
She went back inside, and I hurried to Diana. She was my chance to right old wrongs and turn mistakes into successes. She was my chance to win in a way that was real and permanent. Every minute without her was empty. Every minute wondering if I could spend eternity by her side was meaningless. A life without her was a life wasted.
Chapter 54
SIX WEEKS LATER
That morning, I’d tied Diana up before she was fully awake and fucked her while she sang “Happy Birthday to Me.” She couldn’t come until she finished the song, but I made her start over and over until she was in tears and I was ready to explode inside her.
We went our separate ways. She went to McNeill-Barnes to publish books. I went to R+D to buy and sell property. A month after we wrote our names in the book of life by christening her body in sex and felt tip pen, we went about our daily business as partners, and our nightly business as master and servant.