by Cynthia Dane
I’m his.
His.
Body, mind, soul. It scares me how quickly I slip into this role. I don’t even think about it. I do it, because it feels right, and because I want it.
I’m not scared anymore. If anything, I feel empowered, because this man understands me and won’t let me feel anything but aroused and pleasured.
Oh, and him too, I guess.
“Are you mine, Katie?” he asks, stilling himself inside me, his cock wedged deep and filling me to every brim I possess. “At the end of the day, do you belong to me?”
My fingers grip my bedspread. I want to cry, because I’m so hungry for release that this man is torturing me. He’s so close to taking me to the edge and over it. If he went another thirty seconds…
“Yes, sir,” I whimper. “I’m yours.”
“Then you better make sure I know.”
He moves again.
I start to die.
“Yes, please, fuck me, sir!” I can only lift my arms, but my hands are content to stay splayed against the bed. My head is heavy beneath his palm. My breasts are crushed beneath me. My knees dig into the edge of my bed, my ass so high that every stroke of his cock pushes deeper and deeper within me. I feel him swell, pulse, and share his skin with mine until it’s so divine that I sob in gratitude. “Take me!”
I want him to come as much as I want to come. I want to feel it spread through me like burning fire, to claim me, to mark me as his for the rest of my life. I know he’s mine. I’ll always know that this man belongs to me. Right now, though, I need to feel the undying truth that my body and my heart belong to him as well.
Go ahead, Ian. Take me however you please.
Punish me.
When he spanks the side of my ass, holding himself inside me, I am neither surprised nor scared. I feel shocks of pleasure zip through me. The pain is… exquisite.
“You’re out there, telling me what to do, making me touch another woman while you got to have all the fun of fucking with her head.” Another spank. I shriek into the comforter, willing my legs apart so he can claim all of me. “You get me so hard that it’s taking every ounce of my self-restraint to keep from being an uncontrolled beast out there. Do you know what I wanted to do, Katie?”
I whimper. “No, sir. What did you want to do?”
I yelp as he spanks me again. “I wanted to fuck that ass you made me get so red. You made me want to throw you on the floor and fuck you like this in front of that woman. I wanted to punish you both for turning me into this animal that I am.”
You didn’t, Ian. I let a smile trickle across my lips. “I’m sorry, sir. Please, punish me.”
“Oh, I will.”
I don’t know how he does it. I don’t know how he keeps himself from coming, even though he must be so far on the edge that he’s about to tip over at any moment. Is it to make a point to me? That he can hold himself back as long as necessary? Is it to punish me, because he knows I want him to come inside me? It’s a reward, Kathryn. Your Dom isn’t going to reward you with his seed until you’ve performed your duties.
My fingers pull against my flesh as I reach behind me, trying to open myself to him, stretching my body to its limits as he pushes his body to his own limits. We’re going to die like this. I’m going to die.
“Are you mine, Katie?” he asks again, fucking me harder, faster. I’m so close. My toes are tingling, my breasts are begging to be touched, and the depths of my core are stroked by the head of his cock every other second. I feel my wetness slide down my thighs every time he pulls out far enough. My clit, as I reach between my legs and rub it, is so engorged and sensitive that I almost can’t come near it. Finally, I drop my hand, content to feel only him inside me. “Are you my sub?”
“Yes, sir!” It’s coming. Orgasm is taking control of me, my inner walls holding him within me so he can’t dare to escape again. “I’m yours!”
“Is your body mine?” He sounds crazed, and I don’t doubt for a second that he’s waiting for the right moment to unleash every bit of frustration festering inside him. “Even though you’re a Domme, you belong to me, right?”
I hear his words, but my body is full of so much undying, unrelenting release that everything is trembling, including my voice. “Yes! Please! Please come inside me!” I want to feel his warmth before I come down from the high that is shattering my brain.
I don’t.
My orgasm subsides, and I’m… dead. That’s the only word to describe me. I can’t move a thing. Even though I came that hard, he still didn’t. Within a few seconds, however, he’s pulling out of me with a groan. I barely have time to register the sensation between my legs before he turns me onto my back and takes a step away from me.
“On your knees. Now.”
You don’t disobey a command like that. Not with that tone shaking you to the very bare bones of your being. So even though I’m completely through in my body, I do what my Dom commands, sliding off the edge of my bed and getting on my knees in front of him.
I think I’m going to finish him with my hands and mouth, but he’s ahead of me.
Way ahead of me.
“Tell me you want it,” he growls, his hand wrapped firmly around his cock. “Tell me!”
My heart is beating so fast that I think I might be sick. My eyes widen. My thighs are so wet at the thought that I am this close to asking him to fuck me again.
“Yes, sir,” I say, forcing my chin up so I look right into his hazel eyes. “Give it to me.”
I mean it.
Nevertheless, I shriek when he finally climaxes, the first wave of seed hitting me right in the face.
It’s on my skin. It’s in my hair, It’s hitting my dress and sinking into my cleavage. He’s not even being careful with his aim. Ian is too lost in finally getting his relief that all that matters is coming anywhere on me, although I do not doubt his intent is to cover my face in his cum.
It shatters me. When he’s done, sighing in such tremendous relief, I fall forward onto my hands and feel his seed descend my cheeks and neck. I taste it at the corner of my lips. Oh, God.
That was… the hottest thing. This is the hottest thing.
Ian sits on the bed behind me. “Kathryn?”
I laugh. Speckles of seed fall on my carpet with every movement of my facial muscles. “You fucking asshole.”
Harder, I laugh. I feel him tense behind me. Yet I am about to cackle, because here I am, begging for a man to come on my face.
I feel claimed. Comfortable. Freed.
My hand pats his foot. “Go start the shower, asshole. You’re going to wash every drop of this shit off me.”
He moves. A gentle hand rubs the top of my head. “Fair enough, my queen.”
A smile cracks through my visage. I watch Ian go into my bathroom, stripping out of his clothes. Such pretty, clean skin. Would be a shame if we got out of the shower and I happened to straddle his face in bed.
You see? Two can play at this game of Dom vs. Domme.
Epilogue
IAN
Somewhere in the distance, my mother’s voice is baying for Kathryn and me to come join the family for cocktails in the salon. She’s gone through great pains putting this intimate party together in celebration of the six month anniversary since I pinned Kathryn against a wall and certifiably lost my mind.
I suppose it’s the least we could do to make an appearance.
Why would we?
“Champagne?” I ask, taking a bottle and glass out of the basket I brought out to the field. Kathryn and I are hiding on the edges of the clean lawn sprawling behind my family’s house. Ever since my mother semi-moved back in, however, she’s been pressuring her ex-husband-turned-main-squeeze-again to put in a decent flower garden. If they get remarried, that will probably be in the prenup.
Kathryn holds up the glass I handed her. “Fill me up.”
I hold in an immature snort. “Don’t I always?”
/>
It’s quiet out here. Some birds, the breeze in the trees, and something that sounds like a deer trampling in the woods behind us. This is the first warm day we’ve had in a long time. It’s also the first real break either of us has had since I moved on to the next project upstate and Kathryn opened the museum in The Grand.
It’s a quaint museum. It’s bullshit that the council made us pick between that piece of education or a whole historical hotel. Yet if it weren’t for them, perhaps this moment would not exist.
Kathryn is gorgeous in a cream-colored dress that hugs her figure and blends in nicely with her hair, worn down to keep her neck warm from the chilly breeze. Her tight-covered legs draw up on our blanket. I’d say we were having an impromptu picnic, but when I decided we needed to escape our nosy families, I only had this blanket and a basket full of booze to keep us dry and warm.
We’re only going to be out here for about twenty minutes, but I needed privacy with my girlfriend. There’s a hole burning in my pocket, and it’s not because of money. It’s because of a box I never thought I’d be carrying around a few months ago.
“I love our families, but…” Katie downs half her glass of champagne as I rest my head on her shoulder. “They are tiring. If your mother asks me one more time if we’re having a healthy sex life, I will actually slap her, Ian. I know it’s code for pregnant.”
I shake my head and pour her more champagne. “She’s smitten with you. And your womb. I’ve never seen her like this before.”
“She’s convinced we’re not only having babies, but I’m due to give birth at any time.”
“She likes children.” I drink some champagne, enjoying the bubbly sensation in my throat and stomach. “Although it’s weird that she would target you, one of her feminist friends.”
“Hmph. I love you, my prince, but we’re a long way away from even discussing the remote possibility of me bending over and begging you to knock me up.”
Now there’s an image.
“My father said that he had no problem with me adopting. As long as there’s one grandkid to spoil someday, I don’t think my mother will care where or whom it came from.”
Kathryn gives me a look. One that I know means, “We are not going there.”
“Yes, of course.” I kiss her cheek. “Ignore my mother. If you start some other topic, she’ll go along with you.”
“Oh, I know, bless her. I’ll bring up a desire to learn how to play chess.”
“Brother.” I rub her thigh. “I could teach you how to beat her at her own game.” Me, Katie, a chess board… sounds like a good way to pass a rainy Sunday afternoon. If we’re not having sex, that is.
I still can’t believe it’s been six months. In that time, not only has my family opened up one of the most successful hotels downtown, but I’ve ended up with this bewitching woman as the love of my life. Every time I look at her, I feel a renewed energy coursing through me. Kathryn isn’t only stunning. She’s the smartest, wittiest woman I know. She’s strong, brave, and independent. Lots of men are intimidated by that. Not me. I’m turned on by that.
Especially when she lets her guard down, letting me see the vulnerable side of her that she shields from the world. Nothing makes me feel more loved than that.
Fuck me. Love.
“You’re ornery,” Kathryn mumbles as I start feeling her up, my lips squeezing her skin.
“No, I’m in love. There’s a slight difference.”
“Aw.”
How other people perceive us doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone who matters already knows. If they have a problem, well, fuck ‘em. Kathryn’s lamented that a couple of her old Domme friends won’t talk to her anymore, and that was rough… I don’t like seeing her feel down, especially over something as petty as people treating her like that because she’s in a relationship with me, a Dom.
I like to think we’ve found a good balance. She’s comfortable with me, and I’ve become more comfortable with the rough way she can love on me. It’s not so bad, giving up control sometimes. The hardest part for both of us was realizing that the other person doesn’t give a shit. We don’t change in the other’s eyes. We don’t lose respect. We’re the same man and woman as always.
God, I love her. If we broke up and I found me the kind of sub I used to think I wanted, I… well, I don’t think I’d be happy for long. There’s a reason I always broke it off after a few weeks at most. They couldn’t give me everything I wanted.
I want a feisty woman who knows what it’s like to switch. A woman who will help me explore my own fantasies I never knew I had, whether I’m Topping or it’s all vanilla.
Or other things, I guess.
“Katie,” I say, conjuring the courage I need to go through with this. “I’m glad we’ve made it six months.”
She clinks her glass against mine. “Here’s to six and many more. You’re mine, Mathers. I think you’ll find it difficult for me to ever let you go.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
I reach into my pocket, her eyes burning in curiosity. When I pull out the little black box, she nearly chokes on her champagne.
“Uh, Ian…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to marry me.” Before she can sigh in relief, I open the lid, revealing two golden bands. Ah, she’s tensing up again. “Yet.”
“You mother fucker…”
“I love you too, darling.”
I take her right hand, slipping the smaller band over her ring finger. Her left clings desperately to the stem of her champagne glass. No way I’m getting a ring on that finger for at least six more months. At least.
“Care to explain?” Her voice is terse.
I fold the other ring into her palm, encasing both of my hands over hers. “I know neither of us are ready to talk about getting married yet. At least not seriously, and not any time soon.” She nods, slowly. Her face is set in a demeanor that tells me to watch myself. “I want you to know how serious I am about you. I’m crazy in love with you, Katie, and I can’t imagine that changing anytime soon. It seems a shame to not let the whole world know that.”
There’s nothing special about the rings. They’re solid gold. No engravings. No gems. They look like wedding rings, and I guess they are in a way. Okay, more like a couple’s rings.
“Ian,” Kathryn begins, carefully. “This is a fucking promise ring.”
I smile, holding my right hand up to her, delightfully bare.
“This is the kind of shit high school kids scream over.”
“Let’s indulge the high schoolers in us. They had a hard time twelve years ago.”
Kathryn rolls her eyes, but smiles. She puts down the champagne glass and kisses my cheek, her hand opening up to reveal the big ring I put in it. She whispers into my ear as she slides the ring I bought for myself onto my hand. “You’re mine, Mathers. Don’t let any woman forget that.”
I pull her into my embrace. The glass of champagne spills, cascading golden bubbles all over the blanket and grass. “And don’t let anyone forget that you’re mine, Alison.”
Our tense embrace quickly turns soft. We kiss, indulging in the simplest pleasures of life – like love.
I could see myself marrying this woman. I could see us arguing about inheritances until we’re blue in the face. We would debate about last names and what to do about children to keep our families happy. We would go on vacations all around the world, and explore our inner worlds right here in the bedroom. I’m sure at some point we’ll seriously talk about sharing a sub here and there, because we both know how fucking hot it is when we watch the other take control for our titillation. I want to see Kathryn lead more women to the dark waters of pleasure. Maybe even a man once in a while. It’s what she does best.
God save us. We’re turning into the Andrews.
“Our parents will miss us soon.” Kathryn sits up, readjusting herself to fit more comfortably on this bumpy ground. “We should go make an appe
arance. And see how long it takes your mother to notice these rings.”
I help her up. We start packing up the bottles and blanket. “I’m glad you didn’t say no,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist as we head back to my family’s house. “To anything.”
She winks at me, the breeze blowing back her hair and making her smile all the more alluring. “My middle name is adventure. And I want every day with you to be one helluva adventure, sir.”
I squeeze her close to me. “Same here, my goddess. Otherwise life feels like a waste.”
It takes exactly two minutes for my mother to see the rings and pass out. My father blubbers about me being a man, and Spencer Alison looks like he’s about to punch my face in before pulling me into the unmanliest hug in the world. These people think we’re getting married.
They don’t understand that a Dom and a Domme don’t simply get married. They dance a daring game of power, control, and finally, release. They chase each other, take breaks from each other, and finally admit to the other that everything is exactly as it should be.
I’m the cat. She’s the cat. We’ve both got cats. There is no room for mice here.
Welcome to our crazy, passionate life.
THE END
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