The_Submissive - Tara Sue Me

by Erotic Romance

  He pulled a chair out from a finely carved table and waited for me to sit down. Silently, he sat across from me.

  Dinner was already on the table and I waited for him to take a bite before I ate anything. It was delicious. Someone had baked chicken breasts and topped them with a delectable honey almond sauce. There were also green beans and carrots, but I hardly noticed them, the chicken was so tasty.

  It dawned on me, eventually, that there was no one else in the house, and dinner had been waiting. “Did you cook this?” I asked.

  He inclined his head slightly. “I am a man of many talents, Abigail.”

  I shifted in my seat and we resumed eating in silence. I was too nervous to say anything. We’d almost finished before he spoke again.

  “I am pleased you do not find it necessary to fill the silence with endless chatter,” he said. “There are a few things I need to explain. Keep in mind, you can speak freely at this table.”

  He stopped and waited for my response.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You know from my checklist I’m a fairly conservative dom. I do not believe in public humiliation, will not participate in extreme pain play, and I do not share. Ever.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Although as a dom, I suppose I could change that at any time.”

  “I understand, sir,” I said, remembering his checklist and the time I’d spent completing mine. I really hoped this weekend hadn’t been a mistake. My cell phone felt reassuring in my pocket; Felicia knew to call the police if I hadn’t checked in within the next hour.

  “The other thing you should know,” he said, “is that I don’t kiss on the lips.”

  “Like Pretty Woman?” I asked. “It’s too personal?”

  “Pretty Woman?”

  “You know, the movie?”

  “No,” he said. “I’ve never seen it. I don’t kiss on the lips because it’s unnecessary.”

  Unnecessary? Well, there went the fantasy about pulling him to me with my hands buried in that glorious hair.

  I took a last bite of chicken as I thought more about what he’d said.

  Across from me, Nathaniel continued talking. “I recognize that you’re a person with your own hopes, dreams, desires, wants, and opinions. You have put those things aside to submit to me this weekend. To put yourself in such a position demands respect and I do respect you. Everything I do to or for you, I do with you in mind. My rules on sleeping, eating, and exercise are for your benefit. My chastisement is for your betterment.” He ran a finger around the rim of his wineglass. “And any pleasure I give you—” the finger ran down the stem once and back up “—well, I don’t suppose you have any qualms concerning pleasure.”

  I realized I was gaping at him when he smiled and pushed himself away from the table.

  “Are you finished with dinner?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t be able to eat any more, my thoughts consumed by his remarks on pleasure.

  “I need to take Apollo outside. My room is upstairs, first door on the left. I will be there in fifteen minutes. You will be waiting for me.” His green eyes gazed steadily at me. “Page five, first paragraph.”

  I’m not sure how I made it up the stairs—every step felt like I wore iron shoes. But I only had fifteen minutes and I needed to be ready when he returned. At the top of the stairs, I sent Felicia a text saying that all was okay and I was staying, adding our agreed-upon secret code so she’d know it was really me.

  I pushed open the door to Nathaniel’s room and gasped. Candles were everywhere. In the middle of the room was a large four-post bed made of heavy wood.

  However, according to page five, first paragraph, the bed wasn’t my concern. I looked down. The pillow on the floor was.

  Beside the pillow was a sheer nightgown. My hands shook as I changed. The gown barely skimmed my upper thighs and the gauzy material would show every part of my body. I folded my clothes and put them in a neat pile beside the door. All the while I was chanting to myself:

  This is what you wanted.

  This is what you wanted.

  After repeating that about twenty times, I finally calmed down. I went to the pillow, knelt on it, and sat with my butt resting on my heels. I stared down at the floor and waited.

  Nathaniel entered minutes later. I risked a peek and saw that he’d removed his sweater. His bare chest was muscular; he had the look of one who worked out frequently. His pants were still belted at the waist.

  “Very nice, Abigail,” he said when he’d closed the bedroom door. “You may stand.”

  I stood with my head down as he walked around me. Maybe in the candlelight he wouldn’t be able to see how badly I trembled.

  “Strip the gown off and place it on the floor.”

  Moving with as much grace as I could, I pulled it over my head and watched it flutter to the ground.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  He waited until my gaze met his and then he slowly removed his belt. He gathered it in one hand and walked around me again. “What do you think, Abigail, shall I chastise you for your ‘Master’ remark?” He snapped the belt and the leather tip struck me. I jumped.

  “Whatever you wish, sir,” I managed to choke out, surprised by how turned on I felt.

  “Whatever I wish?” He continued walking until he stood before me. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down. “On your knees.”

  I dropped to my knees and had my first glance at Nathaniel naked. He was magnificent. Long, thick, and hard. Very long. Very thick. Very hard. The reality was so much better than the fantasy.

  “Service me with your mouth.”

  I leaned forward and took the tip of him past my lips. Slowly, I moved to take the rest of him in. He felt even larger in my mouth and I couldn’t help but think what it would feel like to take him inside my body in other ways.

  “All of it,” he said when he reached the back of my throat.

  I raised my hands to feel how much more I had left to go.

  “If you can’t take it in the mouth, you can’t have it anywhere else.” He pushed forward and I relaxed my throat to take him the rest of the way. “Yes. Like that.”

  I’d misjudged just how large he was. I made myself breathe through my nose. It wouldn’t do to pass out on him.

  “I like it hard and rough and I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re new.” He fisted his hands in my hair. “Hold on tight.”

  I had just enough time to wrap my arms around his thighs before he pulled out and rammed himself back in my mouth. He pumped in and out several times.

  “Use your teeth,” he said.

  I pulled my lips back and scraped his length as he moved in and out. Once I got used to his size, I sucked a bit, and wrapped my tongue around him.

  “Yes,” he moaned as he pounded into me harder.

  I did this, I thought. I made him hard and had him moaning. It was my mouth. Me.

  He started to twitch inside my mouth.

  “Swallow it all,” he said, pumping in and out. “Swallow everything I give you.”

  I nearly choked as he came, but shut my eyes in order to focus. Salty spurts shot down my throat, but I managed to swallow.

  He pulled out, gasping. “That, Abigail,” he said with heavy breaths, “that is what I wish.”

  I sat back on my heels as he pulled his pants on.

  “Your room is two doors down on the left,” he said, calm once more. “You sleep in my bed by invitation only. You are excused.”

  I pulled the gown back on and gathered my discarded clothing.

  “I will take breakfast in the dining room at seven sharp,” Nathaniel said as I left the room. Apollo slipped in past me through the open door and curled up at the foot of Nathaniel’s bed.

  Thirty minutes later, wide-awake and buried under the covers, I replayed the scene over and over in my mind. I thought of Nathaniel: his aloof manner, the calm way he issued commands, his absolute control. Not only had our encounter me
t my expectations, it had exceeded them.

  I couldn’t wait for the rest of the weekend.

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  I overslept the next morning, waking with a start and cursing under my breath when I saw the time. Six-fifteen wouldn’t give me enough time to shower if I was going to have breakfast on the table by seven. I hurried into the adjoining bathroom and brushed my teeth. Barely looking in the mirror, I pulled a brush through my hair and made a sloppy ponytail.

  I grabbed a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt out of the closet, surprised they fit until I remembered the papers I had filled out asked for my size. My gaze fell on the unmade bed as I stepped out the door. Leaving it crossed my mind briefly, but then I decided Nathaniel was probably a neat freak. I didn’t want to make him angry my first weekend.

  Your first weekend? my sensible side asked. You think there will be more?

  I decided to ignore my sensible side.

  The single bed wasn’t big enough for two people and I huffed in disappointment as I made it. Apparently, Nathaniel wouldn’t be joining me in my bedroom. And from the sounds of it, nights spent in his would be few and far between.

  I passed the indoor gym on my way to the kitchen and heard Nathaniel on a treadmill. I glanced at my watch and cringed. Six thirty-five. No time to make my signature breakfast of French toast with banana foster sauce. Maybe another day.

  Nathaniel walked into the dining room seconds after I set his scrambled eggs, toast, and cut fruit on the table. His hair was freshly washed and he smelled all outdoorsy and musky. Delicious. My heart raced just thinking about tasting him.

  I stood by his right side as he ate. Not once did he look my way, but he gave a small sigh of satisfaction after the first bite.

  When he finished eating, he looked up at me. “Make yourself a plate and eat in the kitchen. Come to my bedroom in an hour. Page five, paragraph two.”

  And with that, he left the dining room.

  Why would he bother telling me to eat right before ordering me to his bedroom? Like I’d be able to eat anything, thinking about his words. But I scrambled an egg, cut up more fruit, and ate at the kitchen table like he’d told me to.

  Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window and outside Nathaniel was walking with Apollo. The dog galloped through the large yard, scaring the birds on the lawn. Nathaniel was on the phone, but when Apollo came up to him, he reached down and ran a hand through his fur.

  I sighed and looked around the kitchen. I wondered if the blonde ever ate at the kitchen table and if she was a good cook.

  Regardless, she was gone. I was the one in his house, at least for the weekend.

  I cleaned up the breakfast plates and made my way upstairs.

  Page five, paragraph two was what I called the OB/ GYN pose. Lying in the middle of Nathaniel’s big bed, without a stitch of clothing on, I felt exactly like I was at the doctor’s office. I actually missed that flimsy bit of paper they give you.

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, telling myself I’d be up to anything Nathaniel had planned. Maybe he’d finally touch me.

  “Keep your eyes closed.”

  I jerked. I hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

  “I like you spread out like this,” he said. “Take your hands and pretend they’re mine. Touch yourself.”

  He was driving me crazy. I’d tried to imagine how the weekend would go, and so far it was nothing like I’d thought. He hadn’t touched me once. It was so unfair.

  “Now, Abigail.”

  I lifted my hands to my breasts, and in my mind they became his hands. It was easy. I’d done this a hundred times.

  Nathaniel’s warm breath brushed across my ear as his hands caressed me. His touch started out soft and gentle, but quickly grew rough as our breathing became choppy.

  He was needy and I was what he needed.

  He was hungry and I was the only thing he could consume.

  With painful slowness, he rolled the tip of one nipple and then the other. I bit the inside of my cheek, awash in the sensations he created. He pinched, pulling hard, and then harder when I gasped.

  I became the needy one. I needed him. Wanted him. Craved him. I trailed a hand down my stomach—aching and desperate to be filled. Wanting him to fill me.

  He pushed my knees further apart and I was spread before him in offering. He would take me, finally. Take me and be done with it. He’d fill me like I’d never been filled before.

  “You disappoint me, Abigail.”

  Dream Nathaniel disappeared. My eyelids fluttered.

  “Keep your eyes closed.”

  He was inches from my face and I smelled the maleness of him. My heart beat frantically while I waited for him to continue.

  “You had me stuffed in your mouth last night and now you use a single finger to represent my cock?”

  I slipped another finger inside. Yes. Better.

  “Another.”

  I added a third and started moving them in and out.

  “Harder,” he whispered. “I’d fuck you harder.”

  I wouldn’t last long, not with that type of talk. I pushed deeper, imagining him stretching me. My legs tightened and a low groan escaped my lips.

  “Now,” Nathaniel said and I exploded.

  There was utter silence for several minutes as my breathing returned to normal. I opened my eyes and found him standing beside the bed, forehead glistening with sweat. His erection strained against the front of his pants.

  “That was an easy orgasm, Abigail,” he said, staring at me with those sultry green eyes. “Don’t expect that to happen often.”

  But on the upside, I thought, at least it sounded like there would be more.

  “I have a previous engagement this afternoon and won’t be here for lunch. There are steaks in the refrigerator you will serve me at six in the dining room.” His eyes swept over my body and I forced myself to remain still. “You need to shower since you didn’t have time this morning.”

  Damn, the man didn’t miss anything.

  “And,” he continued, “there are yoga DVDs in the gym. Make use of them. You may leave.”

  I didn’t see him again until six o’clock that night. If the steak dinner had been some sort of test and he wanted to see me fail, he would be sadly disappointed. I’d been known to bring grown men to their knees with my steak.

  Okay, that was a lie. And I knew I had no hope of bringing Nathaniel West to his knees, but I could still cook up a pretty mean steak.

  Of course, he didn’t compliment my cooking. But he’d asked me to eat with him, so I sat in silence beside him.

  I picked up a forkful of steak and put it in my mouth. I wanted to ask where he’d been all afternoon. If he lived in the city during the week. But we were at the dining room table and I couldn’t.

  After we finished, he told me to follow him. We walked through the house past his bedroom to the room before mine. He opened the door, stepped to the side, and bid me enter first.

  The room was dark. A single small lamp gave the only light. From the ceiling two thick chains with shackles were suspended. I spun around to gape at him.

  He didn’t look surprised. “Do you trust me, Abigail?”

  “I…I…” I stuttered.

  He walked around me and unbuckled a shackle. “What did you think our arrangement would entail? I thought you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into.”

  Yes, I knew. But I thought chains and shackles would come later. Much, much later.

  “If we are to progress, you must trust me.” He unbuckled the other shackle. “Come here.”

  I hesitated.

  “Or,” he said, “you can leave and not come back.”

  I walked toward him.

  “Very good,” he said. “Take your clothes off.”

  It was worse than the night before. At least then I’d had some idea of what he wanted. Even earlier on his bed hadn’t been too horrible. But this, this was madness.r />
  The crazy part of me relished it.

  When I was completely naked, he took my arms, stretched them above my head, and chained them. He stepped away and took his shirt off. Rummaging through a drawer in a nearby table, he took out a scarf, and came back.

  He lifted the black material. “Your other senses will be heightened when I blindfold you.”

  Then he tied the scarf around my eyes and the room went dark. I heard footsteps and then there was nothing. No light. No sound. Nothing. Just the racing thump of my heart and my shaky breathing.

  Light as air, something brushed my hair aside and I jumped.

  “What do you feel, Abigail?” he whispered. “Be honest.”

  “Fear,” I answered in my own whisper. “I feel fear.”

  “Understandable, but completely unnecessary. I would never cause you harm.”

  Something delicate circled my breast. Excitement pulsed between my legs.

  “What do you feel now?” he asked.

  “Anticipation.”

  He chuckled and the sound reverberated along my spine. I felt him draw another circle—teasingly, barely touching me. “And if I told you this was a riding crop, what would you feel?”

  A riding crop? My breath caught. “Fear.”

  The crop swished through the air and landed sharply on my breast. I gasped at the sensation. It hurt briefly, but not too bad.

  “See?” he asked. “Nothing to fear. I won’t cause you harm.” The crop hit my knees. “Spread your legs.”

  I felt even more exposed now. My heart doubled its tempo, but something inside me was lit with excitement.

  He trailed the crop from my knees to the apex between my legs. Right where I was most needy. “I could whip you here,” he said. “What do you think about that?”

  “I…I don’t know,” I confessed.

  The crop smacked three times in quick succession right near my clit. It stung, but the sting was replaced almost immediately by the need for more.

  “And now?” he asked, the crop swishing gentle as a butterfly between my legs.

  “More,” I begged. “I need more.”