by Bec Botefuhr
When I finally come, it’s so powerful my whole body shakes and trembles around him as he rides me harder, his balls slapping against my panties as he powers towards his own, much needed, release. When he finds it, his guttural moan has my body coming to life. I can feel every pulse as he gently uses my body to rub out his release until we’re both completely satisfied. We both came far too quickly, but I put that down to desperation and need. I know next time, he’ll make it a whole lot harder for me to find that much needed release. I know he’ll bring out the dominant side I have learned to need so desperately.
“God, Sierra, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Me too,” I whisper, pressing my face to his chest and inhaling.
“Stay with me tonight, please?”
“Ok.”
It’s not even a question I need to ask myself. I’ve been without Marcus and I know one thing for sure…
I don’t want to do it again.
CHAPTER 4
SIERRA
Marcus takes me back to the apartment I woke up in all those weeks ago, when I thought I’d gone home with a stranger. As expected, it’s perfectly set out, tidy and I’m fairly sure, sparkling. Marcus takes my hand, leading me into the kitchen and flicking on the light. My legs are painfully tingly and my cleft is painfully aware of him. When he pulls off his suit jacket and presents me with a white button up shirt pulled firmly across that divine chest, I can’t help but lick my lips. He’s so god damned edible. He notices my stare and smirks.
“Ten minutes, and you’re ready to go again?”
I grin and step forward, putting my hands on his hard chest and running my fingertips down the hard planes. He grips my wrists, smiling down at me. His dark gaze searches my face as he steps closer, putting his body up against mine. He swipes a strand of hair from my forehead and whispers, “Sierra, we do have to talk some more. What we talked about tonight was only touching the subject. I don’t want you running from me again, because we jumped back into this without sorting it all out first.”
“You want to talk now?” I say, shocked.
“I think it’s important we go over this before we take things any further, don’t you?”
Oh really? He tells me this after he fucks me in the back of his limo. I pull my wrists from his hands, a little hurt that he’s getting all serious now. He could have spoken to me on the way home, instead he chose to fuck me and wait until we got here and now he’s telling me it’s time to get serious.
“Why didn’t we talk in the car? It didn’t seem to be on your mind then.”
His gaze hardens. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re snapping at me over nothing. That’s because you’re still angry at me. We need to talk about what happened, so we don’t carry it around.”
“I thought you were going to punish me for what happened?” I retort. “Isn’t that how you work, Marcus? Don’t you just want to spank me, fuck me and move on?”
His mouth forms a hard line and he runs a hand through his hair. “Is that what you really think of me, Sierra?”
“Yes, sometimes it is. You’re here telling me you want to talk to me, after you got your rocks off in the limo only ten minutes ago. Where was the ‘serious’ talk then, Marcus?”
“Got my rocks off?” he says, in an angry tone. “Really?”
“Well, that seemed first on your to do list earlier and now you want to,” I make air quotes. “Talk.”
“Grow up, Sierra. You wanted that as much as I did.”
I’m being childish, believe me when I say I know this, but I don’t care. I’m angry and hurt and yeah, he’s probably right, we really do need to talk about what happened because it’s still pinching a spot deep, deep in my chest. I close my eyes, trying to gather some calm. When I open them, Marcus is staring at the wall, his face a mass of anger.
“Fine,” I huff. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I’m not talking to you while you’re acting like a child.”
I gape. “Are you serious, Marcus? You just threw it out there that you want to talk when I tried to lay a move on you. It was ok for you to lay your move on me earlier, but now it’s not?”
“We both wanted that,” he repeats.
“Fine, whatever. I’m going home, I don’t need this crap all over again. You can never see what you’re doing wrong and I’m not going to put up with it constantly. You have anger issues, you seriously do.”
I grip my purse and storm towards the door, but he’s there before I even take three steps. He blocks my path and puts his hands up, in a gesture of truce. “I’m sorry, baby, ok?”
“I don’t want to face what happened,” I half yell, “because I don’t want to think maybe this isn’t real.”
“You don’t think I’m serious?” he says, lowering his hands.
“Less than a week ago, you told me you wouldn’t hurt Chayne. Now, suddenly, you’re ok with it.”
“I wasn’t ok with it then because I had a choice, when you walked out, you made the choice for me and I realized I was wrong. Losing you, Sierra, made me see that we have something that Chayne and I never had. I didn’t realize it until you walked out how much that meant to me. Then I was forced to decide for real and I knew which way I would swing. Chayne made her bed, now she has to lie in it. I don’t want to hurt her, that hasn’t changed, but I won’t lose you again.”
I meet his gaze and I can see the truth in his brown depths.
“You hurt me, Marcus, what you did with Chayne and what you knew about me before you employed me…”
“I know,” he whispers. “I don’t know what I can do to fix that.”
“Can you just tell me why?” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Look, I heard what happened and I saw a picture of you and I felt…I don’t know…I felt something. I felt a pull. I saw you’d been hurt. I knew right away what the injuries were and I was in such a bad place, I thought I could help you. I don’t know why I ever put you in that position, and for that I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to feel like a project, Marcus.”
“Baby,” he whispers. “You’ll never be a project to me.”
“I know,” I say, dropping my head.
He steps forward. “Tell me what you want me to do to make this better, I’ll do anything.”
“I just want you to promise me this is real,” I whisper.
He grips my face. “It’s real, I swear it to you. I want you, Sierra, I want every part of you with me, every day that I can have you. I promise to do my best not to hurt you again.”
I nod, meeting his gaze. “Then what is there to talk about?”
He strokes my cheek. “Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“You won’t run from me again? If you’re ever hurting, you talk to me first.”
“I promise.”
“Then I guess we’re done talking.”
“You said you wanted to punish me for running?” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Yes,” he murmurs, looking at my lips.
“I want to punish you for hurting me, so can we make a compromise?”
He narrows his eyes. “Ok?”
“I want to choose how we play this out. I want to pick my punishment. I want you to give me the control tonight. This way, we’re both getting something out of it.”
He runs his hands through his hair and looks away a moment, when his eyes meet mine again, he says in a firm, clear tone. “Ok, pick your punishment. What is it you want?”
I swallow, knowing it’s time I faced my fears. In a small, fragile voice I say. “I want to submit to you, Marcus. I want you to be my dominant and to do that, I want you to tie me up.”
~*~*~*~
SIERRA
I’m almost sure Marcus stands there for a good ten minutes not saying anything. When he finally opens his mouth to speak, nothing comes out. I know he’s shocked, but it’s something I have to do for myself. I need to face what happened
with Ben and move on. I trust Marcus and I know it’s something he enjoys, if we’re to make a good go of this, we have to be in it together and that means me honestly giving it a try. I still have my limits, but I’m willing to let him try whatever he wants on me. He’s already proven to me he will stop if I use my safe word.
“You want to submit?” he murmurs, in a low, gravelly tone.
“Yes.”
“To me?”
“No, to the doorman.”
He chuckles almost nervously. “I thought you didn’t want that.”
“I didn’t think I did, but those little things you showed me back at the White House, made me want to try it again. I trust you; I know you won’t hurt me.”
Marcus steps forward, cupping my cheek. “Sierra, baby, I’d never hurt you.”
“I know that, it’s why I want this.”
“It’s not a punishment, I don’t want you to see it as that.”
“I’m giving you my control and in a sense, you’re giving me yours.”
His brown gaze searches my face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“When?”
His word is simple, hard and determined.
“Now.”
He steps forward, cupping my face and bringing my lips close to his. “You have a safe word, you use it if anything gets too much. I don’t want you to fear me, Sierra.”
“I promise, but can you promise me you’ll only attempt one or two things at a time? I don’t want whips, not today.”
“Of course.”
“But you can tie me up…” I swallow.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, shocked.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Baby,” he murmurs, stroking my cheek.
He reaches down for my hand, leads me out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. He turns on the light and I face the large, beautiful bed in the middle of the room. He leads me over to it and sits me down, gripping my chin and tilting my face up to face him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, then let’s go over a few things. I prefer ‘sir’ over ‘master’. I am not in any way awful or cruel, but I’m firm. If I ask you a question, answer it. If you’re scared, tell me. If I’m hurting you, use your safe word. It’s all very simple.”
I nod, swallowing. He grips my shoulders and gently pushes me back on the bed. I scoot backwards and lay down in the middle. He looms over me, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before leaving the bed. I hear him ruffling around in his closet, then he comes back with a handful of goodies. He places some soft handcuffs, a few satin ropes, a feather tickler and a blindfold down on the bed beside me. He grips his shirt, undoing it slowly then flicking it off. When he’s standing in just those black pants and nothing else, my heart hammers.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper.
“Shhh,” he orders softly. “No talking.”
I let my eyes follow him as he moves, he grips the feather tickler and sits on the bed beside me.
“Sit up, sweetheart.”
I sit up and he reaches around, gripping the back of my dress. His breath tickles my cheek as he unzips it. He slides the gown down my body and then makes short work of my bra and panties. When I’m fully naked, he lets his gaze travel over me, taking a moment to appreciate the view. He gently lays me down on the bed, propping himself up on his elbow beside me. He places the feather tickler at the base of my neck and gently slides it down my chest and around my breasts causing my nipples to harden instantly.
“This is my way of relaxing you, preparing you for what’s to come,” he murmurs, tickling one nipple, then the other. “Your body likes it, I see.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, closing my eyes and letting a soft little moan escape my lips.
He slides it lower, circling my belly button.
“The feather tickler is great for stimulation, it gets the blood pumping, the skin tingling. It brings the body alive. It prepares it for what’s coming.”
I moan when he slides it over my folds. The light tickling of the feathers is enough to make my clit jump and want to move. Marcus leans down, brushing his lips over my throat as he slides the tickler up and down the outside of my aching cleft. The combination has me aching so badly it almost hurts. I arch up, wanting to feel him, desperate for his touch.
“Prolonging an orgasm, makes it so much more intense. I know you want me to lick you, or put my fingers deep inside your greedy little cunt, but that will take your body down from this high. I want you so wound up that when I finally touch you, with my mouth, fingers or cock, you’ll erupt beneath me.”
His words being purred into my ear, with the combination of the tickler and his hot breath against my ear, has my body sparking to life. He takes the tickler from my cleft and slides it up my body again, while pressing his lips lightly to mine, not opening them for me to access, but just enough to tease. When he pulls away, I’m squirming with desperation. I want to feel him. I need to feel him. When he slides his fingers up my arms and clutches my hands, I know what he’s going to do. It’s ok Sierra, it’s Marcus, you can trust him.
He puts my hands in the soft cuffs and clips them to the headboard of his bed. I feel my heart pounding and I focus on my breathing. It’s just Marcus. You can do this. You have to do this. It’s ok. When he grips my ankles, my heart begins pounding so hard it actually hurts. He stops, and I hear him murmur, “Breathe sweetheart.” But I can’t find it in myself to answer, how can I? I’m so damned frightened. I’m too busy talking myself down. I let out the breath I was holding, and suck in another ragged one.
The feeling of my legs and arms being bound, has my body beginning to panic. Marcus is being so gentle, he’s being so kind, he’s not doing anything to scare me, but my body has other ideas. I feel sweat break out on my forehead and my heart continues pounding so loudly I can hear it in my head. I can’t think, I can’t seem to calm myself down. Before I know what’s happening, I’m trashing in the ropes and rasping out ‘purple, purple, purple’, but I’m fairly sure it’s not understandable. I can’t understand where my thoughts are going, let alone how my words are sounding to Marcus.
Marcus moves like wild fire, he has my arms and legs free in minutes. Tears thunder down my cheeks and my body shakes so violently my teeth chatter together as Marcus pulls me into his arms. He tucks me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me and pressing my head into his chest. It takes me a good few minutes to hear what he’s saying to me, because all I can hear is my heart thumping in my head and the sound of my own rapid thoughts. I’m trying desperately to calm myself down, but even my thoughts sound jumbled to me.
“Shhhh, sweetheart, it’s ok. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re ok. Shhh.”
I make a loud, hiccupping sound and grip his chest, needing to feel him. He strokes my hair, whispering soothing words into my ear as I come down from my panic attack. When my breathing has evened out and I’m not panting anymore, I tilt my head up and stare at Marcus through blurred vision. He swipes the left over tears from my cheeks and gives me a look so loving, it breaks my heart. He looks like he’s commit a crime, like he’s hurt someone he loves. It’s not his fault. I asked this of him, yet I can see he’s blaming himself.