Knocked Up by the Dom: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance

by Penelope Bloom

  I narrow my eyes. I’ve forgotten how much I still need to teach her. How much I still get to teach her. I turn my back to her so she doesn’t see the satisfied smirk on my face.

  “When I turn around, I expect to find you with all your clothes off. I expect you to be on your knees and showing me that perfect ass of yours. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she says. I hear the sound of clothing dropping to the ground and the snap of elastic. When I haven’t heard anything for a few seconds I turn around.

  I find my princess is doing exactly as I asked. I walk a slow half-circle around where she kneels at the foot of my bed, admiring every line of her smooth body, relishing in the knowledge that it’s all for me, and it has only ever been for me. She’ll always be my virgin.

  She’s more than that, though. The thought strikes me out of nowhere, and maybe for the first time I’m standing face to face with the reality of what this relationship is becoming. I don’t give the thought the time to fully form though, because my Princess is waiting for me so patiently, and I can already see how badly she wants it.

  First thing’s first though, she need to be punished.

  I have a small freezer embedded in the wall of my playroom, and I open it to pull out a container of ice. I can tell Brianne wants to look so badly to see what I’m doing, but she obediently keeps her head down.

  I strip my clothes off and hold a single ice cube above the small of her back. The cube melts from the warmth of my fingers and droplets patter to her skin. She jumps slightly at the sensation. I kneel beside her and bend to suck the water from her skin, letting my lips and tongue linger enough to enjoy her taste.

  She makes no sound, but her breath quickens. I let more drops of cold water fall on her body, quickly following with my mouth each time. I press the ice cube now between her shoulder blades, dragging a path down her spine and watch as goose bumps form in my wake. I trace the same path with my mouth, kissing away the cold from her skin.

  “Now it’s time for your punishment,” I say, removing several ice cubes and placing them on her skin. I put one in the small of her back, one between her shoulderblades, and several more down the length of her spine. “The sensation of extreme cold begins to feel like pain very quickly. And this particular pain is for lying to me about your intentions when we met.”

  She begins to shiver, and though I would like nothing more than to remove the source of her discomfort, I don’t. I keep focused on the greater goal. When she steps into this room with me, one goal rises above all else: the perfect orgasm. Every single time she enters here, I have no bigger purpose than to give her the most mind-shattering, life-changing orgasms I can possibly give her. It’s her reward for being my submissive and it’s part of my promise as her dominant. Outside this room, there are many other elements to our relationship, but in here… One rules above all else: I’m in charge.

  I remove the ice, kissing my way between the cold patches of skin until she’s nearly warm again, relishing in every sigh and moan she gives me.

  But I don’t stop. I place more ice across her back, knowing full well that the cold will feel more intense this time.

  The difference between myself and other men isn’t just that I can introduce a woman to extremes. It’s that I can push those extremes further than they thought they could handle. I know how to bring my submissive to the absolute brink and then help her ride the wave of euphoria all the way back to me.

  Determining the limits of a submissive is one of the most intimate experiences any dominant can have. Pain, as unpleasant as it is, has a way of stripping away all nonessential concerns. All the vanities and insecurities of the outside world can disappear in an instant in the presence of pain. It forces the body’s most primal drive to take control and demand one thing and one thing only: survival. And nothing activates the nerves like the survival instinct. Endorphins and adrenaline will flood her body, and that’s exactly when I’ll strip away the pain, when I’ll shock her system with pleasure.

  “You’re nearing your limit, Princess,” I say as I watch the cubes of ice pooling and melting, dripping down her body as she shivers.

  “No, S-sir,” she says through clenched teeth.

  I slap my palm across her bare ass and she jolts forward against the blow. It’s not a hard slap, but it’s enough to surprise her, and that’s enough. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. You’re nearing your limit. Aren’t you?”

  She nods her head.

  I lean close to her so she can see into my eyes. I can see all the strength and determination in hers, the will to push through whatever it takes. I can see how badly she is trying to trust me completely and believe that I wouldn’t put her through this if I didn’t think the reward would be worth it.

  “You’re not alone,” I say softly, kissing her tenderly as she shivers against me. I pull back long enough to speak between kisses. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

  “Always?” she asks. I’m about to swipe all the ice from her back and get her straight into the bed but I see something in her eyes that stops me.

  “Always,” I say.

  “Even after the c-contract?” she asks.

  “Always,” I repeat.

  She kisses me again, eyes squeezing shut, and I know the time is right. I run my hand down her back, removing the ice and most of the water before I easily flip her over. I crawl over her, kissing a path from her neck to her nipples, circling them with my tongue. She spasms against me, every movement of my lips and tongue amplified by the endorphins flooding her system. I know I don’t have as long as I would like before the chemical reaction dulls and the pleasure recedes, so I position myself between her legs and guide my hard cock inside her.

  She gasps, scissoring her thighs around me and digging her heels into my lower back, urging me deeper. I give her what she wants and more, pinning her wrists down on the bed above her head.

  Her pussy grips me so tightly I can barely stand it. I grit my teeth, pounding into her. Her head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. I don’t focus on my own body or the sensations exploding across my skin. I just look at her perfect, angelic face and I listen to the moans spilling from her lips. I ride the current of her orgasm with her. My cock pulses inside her with my own release. I grip her tightly as she bucks against me, grinding into me and gasping for breath.

  When I’m finally spent and she has come down from her climax, I collapse on the pillows beside her, sighing with satisfaction.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?” I ask.

  She rolls to her side, resting a small hand on my chest. “I think you did all the work,” she laughs. “Unless mindlessly humping you counts,” she adds.

  I chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her. “You know,” I say. “I’ve spent most of my life trying to find something. I’m still not sure I know what I was looking for--happiness, satisfaction, accomplishment--but I’ve finally found it. It’s you. You’re what I’ve needed all my life.”

  She squints at me. “Is this the part where Ashton Kutcher runs out from behind the curtains and tells me I’ve been Punked?”

  I smirk. “Maybe if the show hadn’t been canceled like… seven years ago.”

  “You really mean all that?” she asks, lips parting slightly as her big doe eyes bore into me.

  I kiss her again, letting my lips linger on hers. “Yes. With all my fucking heart.”

  “You’re not still mad about the writing thing?” she asks.

  “Not a bit. But you need to let me read it when you’re finished. Who knows, I may want to publish you.”

  She laughs. “Oh God. You really want to read it?”

  “Yes. Every word.”

  “Well,” she says, clearing her throat. “I don’t know if it’s just the crazy and amazing sex talking, but I think I love you.”

  “You think?” I ask, rolling on top of her and pinning her arms down. “You think?” I repeat, chuckling as I tickle her sides.

  She laughs, tr
ying to break free. “I know!” she cries. “I know, I know! No more!”

  “I’ll stop when you say it.”

  “I love you!” she laughs.

  I straighten, straddling her waist and sitting back on my calves.

  Her smile fades and her eyebrows draw down and together. “I love you,” she says seriously.

  I bend to kiss her softly, pulling my lips back, but keeping my forehead against hers. “I love you too.”

  Epilogue

  “Let’s talk about Brianne’s piece,” says Professor Barlow. “Will you start us off with an excerpt?” he asks.

  “Okay,” I say. I hold the story in my hands and notice they are steady as rocks. My voice doesn’t feel tight. I don’t even feel afraid to hear their feedback. When Mia stole my story, it felt like I had been violated. I tried for a while to pick up where I left off, but decided to start fresh. I’ve been writing like a maniac ever since. Now that I’m with Jackson, it feels like the words flow out of me faster than I can keep up with, and they feel real.

  I begin to read.

  “She…” I begin, losing track of the words as I read. It feels more like I’m recalling the events of the last few weeks than like I’m reading, and by the time class is over, I’m left with the most positive feedback I’ve ever had from a workshop class.

  I’m leaving class when I see Jackson leaning against the wall outside. Dread creeps in on me at first. Today’s the day our contract expires, and despite everything that has happened between us and the things we talked about, I’m afraid he’s going to tell me it’s over. The girls from class shoot me jealous looks when they see him here for me again. I ignore them as much as I can, but I have to admit I feel a vague sense of pride from it. In the span of a month, I’ve gone from being the virgin outcast to the girlfriend of a man everybody would kill to be with. I shouldn’t get so much satisfaction out of that, but, well, I do. He’s my man, and I’m damn proud to say so.

  “Hey,” I say. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time I spend around him, I still find my stomach turning over on itself when his eyes meet mine.

  “I need you to trust me,” he says, biting his lip and looking down at something in his hand.

  “Please don’t say you want space,” I plead. “I don’t think--”

  He silences me with a kiss. It’s hard at first, but it turns tender as he strokes my cheek. “I don’t want space,” he says. “I just need you to trust me for a few hours. Can you do that?”

  “Okay…” I say slowly.

  “Good. See that car?” he asks, pointing to a black sedan. “My driver is waiting inside. He’s going to take you somewhere, but you can’t know where you’re going.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why can’t I go with you?”

  “Because I,” he says, kissing my chin lightly. “Need to go set up.”

  “Set up?” I ask.

  “You’ll see. Just trust me.” Jackson winks at me, pulls me in for one more kiss, and leaves me breathlessly watching after him as he heads off in another direction.

  I walk toward the car, wishing I knew what the heck to expect. I’m not dressed for anything more than a night sitting on the couch watching movies. But when I get inside the car, I see a small, decorative box sitting on the back seat with a note on top. I pluck the note out and open it, recognizing Jackson’s cramped but neat handwriting.

  He has been very good about respecting boundaries when it comes to extravagant gifts since we’ve been together. I made it clear that I never wanted to feel bought by him, and he has understood completely, so far. But somehow this feels different, and I find myself giddy to see what’s inside the box. Maybe it’s just that I’ve finally passed the point where I have to worry about other factors clouding my judgment. I don’t have to worry I’m with him for my writing anymore. I don’t have to worry it’s about the money.

  I’m with Jackson Pierce because he’s charming, intelligent, caring, and, well, I’d be lying if I said his talents between the sheets weren’t a major perk. I don’t care if I have nothing to compare it to, Jackson made me go through a full day of class with a sore ass from the spanking he gave me the night before. Then there was the time he literally made me cum with nothing but his voice. Yeah, I think I’m qualified to say he knows what he’s doing.

  The note is short and to the point:

  Princess,

  Forgive the gift. You can burn it after tonight if you want, but I knew you’d need something to wear for the occasion. You’ll look beautiful.

  Can’t wait,

  -J

  I open the box and gasp a little when I see the dress. It’s a sleek black dress with all the accessories tucked away in the box everything from white pumps to diamond earrings and a stunning necklace. I glance up at the driver, who doesn’t seem to be paying me any attention. Well, if Jackson thought I was going to change in the car, he has another thing coming. A few minutes later, the driver pulls up to a colonial style house a few minutes away from the campus.

  “You can change inside,” says the driver, who eyes me through the rearview.

  “Who’s house is that?” I ask.

  “Mr. Pierce made all the necessary arrangements. If you would please hurry, Mr. Pierce was very insistent that we arrive at a particular time.”

  I hesitantly grab the clothes and head inside. The door is unlocked and as much as I can tell, the house is deserted. Feeling like an intruder, I search for a bathroom to change in. I slip out of my clothes and get changed. When I’m done, I look at myself in the full length mirror, feeling like I’m looking at a different girl. No. A different woman.

  The woman staring back at me is more confident than the girl from a month ago. I don’t know how to place exactly what has changed, but I can see it. I don’t feel like a scared, awkward virgin anymore. I guess because I’m not. I smirk at myself, trying out a sexy expression as I turn to walk away and bump face first into the doorframe. I stagger backwards, blinking through the temporary pain and laughing at myself.

  Okay, I may be more confident, but I don’t think I can cross awkward off the list yet.

  I think about a lot during the drive. Like how happy I am for Lacey. Ever since things ended between her and Cameron, she has been so much happier. Well, that, and the fact that she’s now dating Hunter, who happens to be a filthy rich and loves spending money on her. I really am happy for her though, because he seems like a nice guy, too. The two of them are currently in Nepal, on some extravagant backpacking adventure Hunter planned for them. I had never seen Lacey so happy as she was when she was getting ready to head out.

  I would say I’ve been lonely since she left, but the truth is Jackson’s sister, Sarah, has been opening up to me ever since he snuck her out of Fairfield’s. Neither of them have been too clear about the details, but I’m pretty sure she’s essentially a fugitive at this point because a judge ordered her to be in the mental health facility for another year. I do know Jackson is working with a lawyer to try to find a way around it, but in the meantime, she’s basically hiding from the law in his house.

  It’s a funny thought, because she couldn’t be any sweeter. She doesn’t talk much, but when she does, every word carries a weight to it that feels somehow powerful. She even started singing again, and God she has a beautiful voice. I’ve been trying to talk her into starting a YouTube channel so she can share her talent, but that’s a definite work in progress.

  Jackson won’t tell me what happened, but the same guys who seemed to want to hurt us have basically become our bodyguards. It was hard to get used to at first, especially since my gut reaction was to run for my life when I saw them. He promises me we don’t need to be afraid anymore, though, and I’ve learned to trust him completely.

  Mia got expelled from our school when I went to the university president and told him what she did. She tried to deny everything, but when they searched her room they found a backup USB with my story on it and several other homework assignments lifted from other girls in ou
r dorm. I don’t know what happened to her after that, but I don’t really care.

  I’ve been writing every day. At first I made my goal to write a thousand words a day, then it was two, and then four, and now I write seven thousand words a day. I basically finish a book every three weeks, and Jackson is currently having his team look through my submissions. I made him promise to drop them in the pile with the rest of the books and only look at them if they made it all the way to his desk. He was reluctant, but eventually agreed.

  The driver finally parks after we’ve driven for what felt like forever. I lost track of where we were hours ago, but now see we’re deep in forested hills and there’s a path leading into the trees to my right.

  “Mr. Pierce would like you to head down that path,” says the driver.

  I step out of the car, thank him, and follow the path without hesitation. If there’s one thing I’ve become accustomed to, it’s following Jackson’s commands without question. There’s a satisfaction in it that runs so deep I can hardly put it into words.

  After a few yards, I see Jackson waiting for me in a crisp black suit with a white undershirt. He smirks, pulling a red rose from behind his back. “Sorry, I know it’s cliché,” he says. “But I wanted to give it to you. Indulge me,” he adds.

  I smile, taking the flower and leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you. You don’t have to apologize. Red roses are only a cliché for girls who got them their whole lives. This is my first.”

  He looks thoughtful. “It won’t be your last then. I’ll give them to you until it becomes a cliché.”

  I laugh. “That sounds like a deal.”

  “Come on, I have something for you.”

  He leads me a little farther down the path where we come into view of the most perfectly serene lake I’ve ever seen. It takes my breath away. The setting sun behind the hills casts the entire lake in a brilliant orange glow. There’s no sign of civilization anywhere, except for the quaint little cabin at the water’s edge. A dock spears out from the back of the cabin into the lake where a small canoe is docked.