by Jamie Knight
Christian blinks at me. His focus adjusts then he sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you. It’s just you were breathing so cutely. In little puffs. Like you were dreaming that you were running a marathon.” He smiles warmly. It seems so genuine.
I find myself smiling back at him. “I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, honestly.” A happy twinge runs through my chest. “Maybe I was dreaming about what you were doing to me earlier.”
His eyebrows rise, and his smile gets bigger. “I see.” Christian shifts his weight settling onto his back. The covers pull down so that I can see his muscular chest. Even in the low light, the definition of his pecs and abs is visible. I drink in the sight feeling warmth travel throughout my body.
His left arm snakes out. Wiggling his hand under me, he pulls me up onto his body with little effort. We are nose to nose. My breasts press into his pecs. His lips pucker touching mine just slightly in a gentle kiss. It’s one of the gentlest touches he has ever given me. It seems out of place, odd, after the rough sex we had earlier. I’m not sure what he is doing or why, but after his lips press into mine again, I stop thinking.
Reaching up, I run both my hands into his blonde hair, noticing how soft it is. The silky strands slide through my fingers. Christian’s hands rub up against my sides then around onto my lower back where they are warm on my skin. His fingers dig into my hip bones as he kisses me again and again. Tongue out, he licks my lips teasingly, getting me to open them for him. I suck his tongue into my mouth, sliding my lips over it like I would if I was sucking his cock for a blowjob.
Christian moans. I feel the vibrations of his deep voice rumbling in his chest. Moving his hands down, he cups my butt and pulls me harder into him. Our groins press together. I can feel his huge cock hardening against my mound and my lower stomach. Opening my legs slightly, I rub his balls over my pussy.
His lips move away from mine. Shifting slightly, he kisses a line along my jaw, then moves down to my neck, causing me to shiver and moan into his ear. My pussy starts to ache, begging to be filled with the long, hard cock that is so close to it. My breaths speed up as my excitement grows. Pulling his hair slightly between my fingers, I push Christian’s face harder to my neck. In response, he grips my butt tighter and grinds me into his body. As his hard cock slides against my stomach, it leaves a trail of precum. The feeling makes my pussy wetter.
“Fuck me,” I beg. There is no master and pet here. The domination that we usually employ seems gone for the moment. Raw need is between us.
With one arm moved up to my waist, Christian flips our positions. My back slams into the soft mattress. With his hips still slightly pressed into mine, keeping his hard cock between us, he leans back to grab a condom which he immediately hands to me. I rip open the plastic, pull the condom out, and reach down to slide it on his dick. The experience is novel. Usually, he takes care of such things.
With the condom on, I lean my head back, close my eyes, and wait for the first thrust. Christian shifts above me, suspending himself on his hands, but to my surprise, he doesn’t thrust into me immediately. His lips brush mine again kissing me deeply.
I’m lost in the feeling of his lips on mine. It’s like he can’t get close enough to me. Our fronts press together. He glides his cock into my pussy, but it’s a gentler move, almost loving. I gasp into his mouth as he fills me. His kisses keep coming as he rocks his cock inside me, making me moan and stealing my breath.
All my senses are full of him: the feeling of him, the speed of his breaths, the smell of his skin. Christian surrounds me and fills me in a way he never has before. I wrap my arms around his middle, hugging him close, never wanting to let him go.
My heart aches. It is full of him too. And as I flicker and quake into my orgasm, I know I am lost. I’ve fallen in love with him.
Chapter Thirteen - Christian
Mandy and I slept in this morning and part of the afternoon, but now we are back to it. This is the sexiest weekend I have had for a while. My little pet is proving that she is a real trouper. I even told her that I want her to spend the night again.
Her big brown eyes look up at me as she lays back on my king-sized bed. The sheets are tossed, but that doesn’t matter. It’s just evidence of the good time we’ve had.
She opens her legs, spread eagle. “Like this?” she asks timidly.
Wrapping my hand around her thin ankle, I pull the leather strap attached to one of the tall wooden bedposts towards it. The strap isn’t long enough as is, I need to lengthen it. The thought brings an amused smile to my face. Mandy is the shortest girl I have ever been with. She is my pocket-sized pet.
I unclasp the strap from the bedpost, making it longer by a few notches. As I fix it, I eye her nude body. I love her round hips and full breasts, but for today, I want a different view.
“Yes. I want your legs spread wide but turn onto your tummy.”
“Yes, sir.” She gives me a little smile before she flips over and I can look over her backside. Her legs swing open, giving me a view of her asshole and pussy. My dick twitches at the sight. My pet is wet already.
I fumble with the leather thongs, feeling a sense of urgency now. The first strap hooks around her ankle. I pull it tight and then move to the next side of the bed. Gripping her other thin ankle, I have to spread her legs even wider to get the leather thong attached. With her legs captured, I stand back for a moment to admire the view. Her pussy and butt cheeks are spread wide open like they are waiting for me to ravish them.
“Now your arms,” I order walking to the head of the bed. My cock has hardened, and it sways with my movements, something I catch my pet watching. She looks hungry, and I plan on giving it to her over and over again.
I strap both of her arms quickly. Her little body makes an X on my bed. She’s helpless. She knows it, and we both love it. Returning to the foot of the bed, I look over my pet. Her breasts are smashed under her, pressed into the mattress hard, making her cleavage hit up under her chin. Her breath is already speeding up. Her hips twitch, pushing her butt into the air some. I swat it hard with my hand which makes her gasp.
The box of condoms on the dresser is almost half gone. That also makes me smile. We have had a great time in the last twenty-four hours. I grab one, open the package, slide it on my rock-hard dick, and get ready to push into my pet’s hot pussy.
“Chris?!”
The yell from downstairs stops me in my tracks. Heat blooms in my chest as anger fills me. My teeth grate together, and my grip on my dick gets harder to the point of strangling. He cannot be here. Not now, is all I can think.
Mandy shifts slightly and looks back at me with her eyes wide. She is quite the sight with her hands and legs bound to the bed. A few minutes ago, my dick was hard and ready to take her, now that moment is gone.
“Is someone here?” she asks quietly as if she can sense my anger and doesn’t want to push me over into a rage. The answer to her question is obvious, of course, someone is here. What she really means is who.
“Get dressed as quickly as possible,” I tell her, dashing to the bed and working the straps off her arms and legs. “Put on your work clothing, button the blouse up all the way. And go with whatever I say down there.”
She sits up as soon as her hands are free and rubs her wrists. “What? Christian, who is here?” Her question is overlapped by another yell from downstairs. My father is getting impatient.
Not answering, I grab my jeans and pull them on roughly. I don’t bother with my boxers. My shirt, I snatch on as I run to the stairs, but a thought catches me as I pull the fabric over my head. Looking back, I meet Mandy’s eyes. She has her skirt part way up. We both pause, and she raises her eyebrows in a questioning expression.
“I’m so sorry to ask this, but could you make the bed really quick? Change the sheets? There are clean sets in the closet by the bathroom.” I ask quietly. She blinks at me several times, obviously shocked, but I don’t have time to explain. “Also, pack up your stuf
f. I’ll take you right home in a few minutes.”
Her mouth drops open. “What?! Christian?”
I’m down the stairs before she can say anything more. What I find makes my whole body run hot again. My father is standing in the foyer of my penthouse with a young woman, probably in her early twenties. Dad likes them barely legal. He has his arm around her waist; her body pulled flush to his so that her barely clad, fake breasts are pushed practically under his chin.
Dad turns and gives me a broad grin. His face is so similar to mine, just older and with wrinkles around the eyes. I hate it. Unlike me, however, he is in a high-priced suit. Something that probably cost more than my car.
The girl spots me and opens her red-lipped mouth comically. “Is this your son, Chris?!” She is addressing my father, not me. “I didn’t think you were old enough to have a grown son.”
Dad chuckles, pleased at her obvious lie. “Yes, this is my boy. My heir. Chris, this is Ms. Brown. She is going to be staying at your place for a few months.”
The breath goes out of my lungs. I have to lean against the banister and act casual to hide my reaction. I don’t know why I am surprised. Dad does this constantly. The house is mine. It is in my name, but he uses it as a place to stash his mistresses. The one time I spoke out against it didn’t end well.
The woman shimmies out of his hold, crosses the room on unsteady heels — she’s obviously been drinking — and offers me her hand. “So, you are Chris too?” she asks. I realize that she has a slight accent, probably French.
“Christian,” I correct quietly. “My father is Chris.” Taking her hand, I give it the quickest shake possible. No offense to the woman, but I don’t like to touch what my father has.
Dad overhears me and tuts. “Call him Chris, dear. He’ll get used to it someday. I assume that Britney here can have your master suite.” He turns to point to the bags that are just inside the door — indicating that I should grab them — just as Mandy walks down the stairs. I can hear her heels as they click on the wood.
We all freeze. I can feel Mandy standing on the last stair behind me, but I don’t look at her. For her to be safe, the next few minutes need to go perfectly. I keep my body as casual as possible, as I watch my father’s expression change from wonder to a predatory stare that makes my blood run cold.
“Why, my boy, you didn’t tell me you had company.” In an instant, my father is all smiles. He crosses the foyer to the stairs in a smooth move, almost like he is dancing. His new girl is left forgotten. I turn just slightly to see my father take Mandy’s hand. He kisses the top of it, like some southern gentleman — something he definitely is not. Keeping her little hand in his, he turns to me with a big grin. “Is this your girlfriend, Chris?”
Mandy looks at me. I can tell that my father touching her is making her uncomfortable, but there is little I can do about it. Now comes the performance.
I smile at Dad and shrug, keeping my hands in my pockets. “Not at all. Ms. Burmmell is a coworker. She is in the accounting office at McKenzie Tech and offered to come over and help me get my group lined up for expenses.” Mandy’s mouth drops open. She starts to shake slightly. “I was just about to take her home,” I continue.
Dad still has Mandy’s hand caught in his own, so I have to push further. “She is a good friend of Mrs. McKenzie and Kane himself.” Just as I thought, my words trigger Dad to drop his grasp. He will take what is mine, but he will not mess with Kane. Messing with Kane would also mean messing with my uncle. The two were in a fraternity together at college, and the ties run deep.
He frowns slightly and crosses back to the young woman standing to the side. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Burmmell.” He doesn’t even look at Mandy anymore. “Thanks for helping Chris. I’m sure he needs it.” His arm slides around the young woman’s waist again, and he kisses her on the shoulder. It’s a display of possession, and it grosses me out. “I’m sure you two will want to be on your way.”
His last words are a dismissal, one I gladly take. Noting that Mandy has her bag, I gesture for her to walk toward the front door. Her lips are still quivering in a taunt line. I can tell she is trying to not cry, but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know how my father is. He takes what others care about and sometimes roughly.
She doesn’t say anything on the walk to my car. The doors slam. We put on our seatbelts in silence. I start the car and turn to her.
“I don’t know where you live,” I tell her. My voice feels so loud like it is crushing the silence that we had before.
“I’m staying at my grandmother’s.” She doesn’t look over at me. Instead, she pulls out her phone and starts texting. “I have to warn her that I’m coming home,” she explains.
“You don’t have your own apartment?”
She’s still texting, but I can tell she is rolling her eyes. “I’m not that poor, Christian. I have a place in Manhattan. My floors are being redone.” Her phone beeps. “Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Umm.” She glances up at me. The dampness in her brown eyes shows that she is holding back tears. My chest feels heavy all of a sudden — a feeling I try to ignore. “My grandmother wants you to join us for dinner.”
I stare at her for so long, I have to snap my eyes back to the road to keep from swerving out of my lane. I don’t meet parents or grandparents or any family. That’s not something I do. That is a relationship type thing, and we are not in a relationship.
“She’s very insistent.” Mandy’s chin is quivering. “Would that be so bad? We can tell her the same thing that you told your father — that I’m your accountant.” There is an obvious tone of disappointment in her voice. “Although I did tell her that I was spending the weekend at a friend’s house, not my boss’s.”
I keep silent. I really do not want to do this.
She reaches over, placing her tiny hand on the one I have on the gearshift. “Please, Christian. Would it be so bad?”
I don’t want to feel it, but something in my chest aches. That tone of voice she is using is causing me pain. Plus, I feel bad for exposing her to my father earlier — although I never know when he is coming by.
“Fine. Dinner is fine.”
Anxiety makes my stomach drop. Parents and grandparents don’t like me. That’s another reason why I don’t meet them. They always want to talk about what plans I have for their daughter — tying her up and fucking her is never the answer they want to hear.
The only thing that is making this experience bearable is that Mandy has not taken her hand off mine. That small point of warmth is helping, but I don’t want to admit that it is. I don’t want to have feelings for this pet. That’s not how I work.
“Where does this grandmother live?”
“The Bronx.” Mandy gives me a little smile like her experience with my father is forgotten. “You can call her Bubby.”
I remember the name from the inscription on the little cat in Mandy’s cubical, but I laugh anyway. “Oh, I doubt I can. It’s too silly.”
Chapter Fourteen - Mandy
After I let us into Bubby’s place, Christian stares around him like he has never been in an apartment so small and cluttered. His eyes settle on the orange and brown macramé wall hanging my grandmother made in the 70s,’ and the look of distaste he has on his face almost makes me laugh. He is such a snob; too bad I’m totally obsessed with him.
“I’m sure my grandmother will be right out,” I tell him. “Go ahead and have a seat.” I gesture to the couch which is overflowing with multiple colored throw pillows — none that match — and several blankets of assorted types and textures.
Christian eyes it. His blonde eyebrows shoot up his forehead and then his eyes narrow. His full lips drop into a deeper frown. He seems fairly convinced that the couch is not okay to sit on. Maybe he thinks it is too old. It’s hard for me to say. Instead, he pulls out a wooden chair from the table and sinks into it. I take the chair next to him, pulling it out so I can face him with our knees almost t
ouching.
“It really isn’t necessary for me to meet your family,” he starts after we sit in silence for a few minutes. “We don’t have that kind of situation.”
I look into his eyes and see a flash of desire there. He must be remembering something good because he reaches a large hand out and grabs my waist. Putting my hands up, I push a bit against his shoulders, but I know the struggle is useless. He pulls me off my chair until I am standing between his legs. His lips are inches away from the sensitive skin of my breasts. I can hear and feel his soft breath.
A loud slam causes us both to jump away from each other. Christian stands. Neither one of us had noticed that Bubby had come into the room. She stands at the entrance to the hallway, another book in her hand poised to be dropped. Once she is sure that she has our attention, she sets the book down slowly.
“It is absolutely necessary that you meet Amanda’s family,” she says seriously. The sternness of her face is cold. Her eyes are icy.
Her reaction throws me off a bit, and I find myself stepping back towards Christian, bumping into him. Bubby isn’t dressed in her usual, colorful way either. She is wearing an elegant, but simple, black cocktail dress and a string of pearls. I’ve never seen her wear anything so conservative. Somehow it feels like she is dressed up as a character.
A giggle escapes my lips. It echoes in the silent room. It’s like the tension has jumped up to twenty-thousand times what it was before. I stifle my uncomfortable laughter and turn to look up at Christian.
He looks less sure of himself. His frown changes into something different, something more twisted. Now he looks like a pouty child who has just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to — like stealing from the cookie jar — and doesn’t want to be punished. With a slight shake of his head, he reaches his hand out to Bubby.
“I’m Christian Keeley.”
His frown never changes. He looks as uncomfortable as a man can get, and I regret bringing him here. Even though my grandmother was insistent, I should have made up some sort of excuse. He’s never going to accept my family.