Safeword: Matte - In Training (19 page)

She used her feet to pull the yoga pants off
so she could spread her legs, and she pushed up, meeting his
fingers with every thrust.

She was close to coming when she realized
something was missing, and her heart sank. “Ethan, I don’t have
anything in my ass!”

He rose off her nipple a brief second, and
his fingers stilled as his gaze met hers. His eyes were fierce as
he said, “We’ll make an exception to the rule for our homecoming
fuck. Come as often as you want, just tell me when you do.”

He jammed three fingers into her, and Sam
reached for his shirt and began pulling it up. He removed his
fingers from her long enough to let her pull his shirt off, but
reinserted them with a snarl, forcing her open, daring her to tell
him he was too rough.

She opened her legs wider, showing him she
was fine, she could take it, and he added his pinky and drove in
hard, holding as he looked into her eyes, pressing her open.

“I want
you
, Ethan. Not your
hand. You. Please.”

He withdrew his fingers
and stood abruptly. It took him only a few seconds to shed his
pants and underwear, and he was back on the floor, between her
legs. She’d grown used to the size of his cock, but it was
still
huge
every
time it entered her.

He lodged his cock at her entrance and
stopped. His hands were braced around her head on the floor, his
elbows locked and his eyes squeezed closed, and she could tell he
was holding onto his control by a slim margin. He took a breath,
his body frozen, and Sam stretched her hand up to cup his cheek.
His eyes opened and she saw the wildness in their deep green
depth.

“It’s okay, Ethan; I can take it. Use me.
Take what you need. If you were never gentle it would be different,
but you’ll be gentle later, and we both want it rough now.” She
stroked his cheek before symbolically stretching both arms above
her head along the floor and pulling her knees higher in
invitation.

His gaze pierced hers for several long
seconds before he nodded and then drove into her in one brutal
shove. He moved his hands to wrap them around the top of her
shoulders to hold her in place, shifted so his weight was on his
knuckles beneath her, and pounded his huge cock into her.

It was all she could do to take him at
first, but within a few minutes her body met his with every thrust,
and minutes later barely managed to tell him she was going to come
before she was writhing under him, twitching and convulsing around
the hard length and width of him. He didn’t relent during her
orgasm, just kept driving away, and when she opened her eyes, his
were focused on her with an intensity that set her off again. She
mouthed she was coming again, as she couldn’t draw in more air, and
her entire body rippled and shuddered as Ethan’s thick length
continued to piston in and out of her.

Sam lost track of how many times she came,
but she recognized the signs of Ethan getting close, and she held
off her final orgasm until she heard his grunts and felt him
releasing inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and
curled sideways into his wrist as she came the final time, and he
made feral noises above her as he finally released.

He collapsed beside her and rolled to his
back, pulling her with him as he turned, and tucking her into his
side as he caught his breath.

Sam recovered first and laughed as she
realized they’d only made it a few feet inside the front door.
Lucky she had a nice decorative rug here, or they’d have been on
hardwood floor. She pushed up to lay on top of him, their stomach’s
touching, and her head using his chest as a pillow.

“I bought rocky road ice cream to welcome
you home, but I like your idea better.”

He chuckled beneath her and rubbed his hand
in slow circles on her upper back. “I’m not finished. I’ll need to
get up early in the morning and drive back, but I missed you.”

She raised her head to look into his eyes.
“Really?”

His mouth formed a half smile and he looked
a little embarrassed, so she pushed up to kiss him, opening his
lips with hers and driving her tongue in. He let her have control
for several long moments before he flipped her over so he was on
top, and he controlled the kiss. She happily let him take his power
back, though she reached up to fondle the back of his neck as they
kissed.

He ended the kiss and rose to stand in one
smooth move, and then leaned to help her up. “We should stop before
I take you on the floor again. Ice cream sounds perfect.
C’mon.”

They each dipped their own bowls, and Sam
smirked as she watched him pile his bowl full and then put a big
scoop of her Mint Chocolate Chip on top of his Rocky Road.

They sat at the island to eat, chatting
about nothing important as they played footsies, as if they
couldn’t bear to be close without touching. Ethan finished first
and carried his bowl to the sink, rinsed it, and opened the
dishwasher. He looked at it a few seconds and began rearranging it,
his bowl still on the counter. He lifted several of the glasses on
the counter into a straight line by size, to make an empty spot on
the rack, and then arranged all of the glassware in the dishwasher
by type and size, pulling the items on the counter down as he made
it to their type. As he worked, the center opened up, and he lined
the bowls down the center, finally moving his ice cream bowl down
as he worked. He reached to the bottom rack and brought the bowls
down there up, and then worked the remaining plastic items he’d
pulled out into the space between glasses and bowls. He worked
quickly, and within moments the top rack was perfect.

She was careful to keep her voice neutral to
avoid showing the irritation beginning to develop around seeing her
dirty dishes organized perfectly whenever he’d been over.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up briefly before focusing on his
task again. “If you think about how you load it you can get about
twenty percent more dishes in per load. It’s a lot like loading a
moving truck — figuring out how to pack it for maximum
efficiency.”

She was quiet as she watched him work, and
within a few minutes he’d organized everything on both racks. Sure
enough, it was about twenty percent empty now, with room for a good
many more dishes.

She shook her head and said, “Here’s the
thing, Ethan.”

He looked up sharply, apparently realizing
by her tone of voice there might be a problem.

“I’m not going to start
organizing dirty dishes to save…what? Maybe five dollars a month in
electricity and water? I only run it once or twice a week.” She
waved towards the perfectly organized racks and said, “Admittedly,
it was full, and now it’s about eighty percent full. Without using
a calculator, I think that would allow me to run the
dishwasher
maybe
two less times per month, possibly only once.” She shook her
head again. “Dishes have their place in the cabinets, where they’re
stored, but…the dishwasher? It’s not worth it to me. I’d rather
just put items in wherever.”

He wrinkled his brow. “That’s okay. I don’t
mind rearranging it.”

She wrinkled hers back at him. “Are you
being deliberately obtuse? It bugs me to put dishes in only to have
you take them out and move them.”

“Really? Because it bugs me to have them in
there all helter-skelter.”

“Well, it’s my house and my dishwasher, so
just leave them be. Please.”

Ethan slowly closed the dishwasher and stood
for a couple of seconds with his back to her, his hands resting
lightly on the edge of the counter. His voice was quiet as he said,
“And what about once I move in. Will it still be your house and
your dishwasher?”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut,
and her heart fell to her feet. “Shit. No. I’m sorry. I guess I was
thinking in terms of right now, when we each have our own
dishwasher. You’re right, of course. It will be our house and our
dishwasher, and we’ll have to figure out how to make both of us
happy.”

They were both quiet a moment and she said,
“Are we really having this serious of a conversation over how the
dishwasher gets loaded?”

He finally turned to face her, his head
tilted and eyebrows raised. “It would appear so.”

Sam turned sideways in her chair and pulled
her feet into the seat so she could wrap her arms around her knees.
“And we’re at an impasse? Two hard-headed alpha personalities
fighting over how the dishwasher is loaded?”

He didn’t say anything and
she threw her arms in the air and stood, exasperated. “Well, if
you’re waiting for
me
to find a compromise, my solution is to make the dishes your
job from here on out. If you don’t like the way I load the
dishwasher, it can be your job. Permanently.”

He tilted his head again and said,
“Promise?”

Sam had been working up a steam, and his
single word shocked her. “What do you mean?”

“Do you promise to leave the dishwasher to
me?”

She sat back down as she thought about what
he was asking. She answered slowly. Unsure if he were serious.
“Once you move in, sure. Until then, I can’t just leave dirty
dishes in the sink until the next time you’re here.”

He didn’t respond and she tried to display
curiosity without antagonism as she asked, “Why is this so
important to you? They’re just dirty dishes.”

“Call it a pet peeve.” He shook his head. “I
don’t know, maybe it’s even an OCD kind of thing. It’s one of the
reasons the moving business is such a good fit for me. I love
organizing things, seeing the pattern in my head of how it can all
fit together to get the most into a small space. I just need you to
understand I literally can’t see the dishwasher the way you load it
without fixing it.”

Sam laughed as she got a vision of the two
of them fighting when they were sixty, and her messing up his
perfectly organized shoes to irritate him. She grinned and asked,
“How bad is this OCD thing? I mean, you aren’t going to start
rearranging my closet, right?”

He shook his head. “No, your closet is
organized just fine. Whoever designed it did a great job.”

She’d been joking, but he was dead serious.
She tilted her head as she thought about his cabin and remembered
his perfectly organized sock drawer. Her socks were only folded
together in pairs because the laundry service did it for her.

Testing the waters, she asked, “And my sock
drawer?”

He winced and she had her answer. She
leveled her gaze and said, “I’m willing to concede the dishwasher
as long as you’re willing to take responsibility for it, but I’m
not good with the entire house having to be perfectly
organized.”

He laughed and quick-stepped to her, lifting
her from the chair as one would a toddler, and bringing her face to
his so he could kiss her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and
he transferred his hands from under her arms to wrap them around
her. “I promise I’ll leave your sock drawer and the rest of your
closet alone.” He paused a moment and added, “Assuming you don’t
run out of room. If you need more space my OCD will kick in and
I’ll probably rearrange everything.”

He looked so sheepish as he said it, Sam
burst into laughter and kissed his cheek.

“I tell you what. I’ll concede the
dishwasher, the playroom, and the garage. You leave my closet and
the workout room alone. If you feel the need to move something in
those areas, talk to me first, get my input on it.”

He looked like he wanted to say something
else, and she said, “Out with it. Now, while we’re all set to find
compromise.”

He glanced sideways at the cabinets and
looked back to her. “Can I put the plates and saucers where the
drink bottles are, move the spices where the plates and saucers
are, and put the drink bottles where the spices are?”

A smile formed involuntarily as Sam realized
his way made more sense. The spices would be handier when cooking,
and the plates and saucers easier to put away when unloading the
dishwasher. She nodded and he returned her smile.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “That move makes
sense. I’m not opposed to that sort of thing, but I’d appreciate it
if you get my input. Not so much asking permission as talking to me
about it first. Yes? It’ll be your house, too. I want you to be
comfortable moving things; I’d just like to have some input.
Okay?”

He nodded and she released her hold on him
and lowered her legs. He released her as she slowly slid down his
body to stand on the floor. “We still have to figure out how you’ll
be responsible for the dishwasher between now and when you move in,
but you’re here now, so you can put my ice cream bowl away and meet
me upstairs.”

He playfully swatted her ass as she sashayed
away from him, both of them smiling as she exited the room.

Chapter
Eleven

About a month before the wedding they hosted
a play party in the new playroom, with close friends invited to
swim during the day, before the kinky portion of the evening
began.

Kirsten was Sam’s best friend, and since
their offices were only a few blocks apart they often had lunch
together. Kirsten practiced a few of the lesser known martial arts,
and the two had compared philosophies of the various disciplines a
few times, but had never delved into that part of each other’s
life. Mostly, they were both submissive masochists with
professional careers, and they enjoyed spending time together.

Kirsten wasn’t in a serious relationship,
but was mentored by James Arrington, an older gentleman well known
for his sadistic imagination and his Dom nature.

Sam hadn’t seen her friend Dana in around
two years. Her husband had died, and Dana had pulled away from
everyone in the lifestyle. Her friends had tried to circle around
her to take care of her, but Kirsten had gently suggested perhaps
Dana needed time to sort things out, and needed some space to do
so. However, while planning the party, Kirsten suggested inviting
Dana and guests. Plural. Sam was thrilled — and intrigued — when
Dana RSVP’d to let her know she’d be bringing three men with
her.