The Art of Domination (38 page)

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Authors: Ella Dominguez

BOOK: The Art of Domination
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“That’s not really your decision, is it? The last time I checked, you’re still my wife, in addition to being my submissive. So I’m
telling you and not asking you that I want you to see your counselor before we do anything.”

“Dylan…” s
he whines as she scoots over to me and starts rubbing my dick.

“I mean it.” I push her hand away before she realizes that I’m already getting hard.

“I don’t think I like you right now,” she says, moving back to the other side of the seat and looking out the window.

“I don’t care if you don’t like me as long as you love me.”

Her reply: “Hmmph.”

Isa is gloomy and pouts
the entire trip to the air field. I’d love to get a little mile-high nookie, but I just don’t want to push her too fast. Why can’t she understand that?

As we
start our ascent, my nerves take over. I hope she likes what I’ve done for her; for
us.
  Isa buckles her seatbelt and looks over at me.

“Do you kno
w how much I love you?”she asks dreamily.

“No, tell me,” I respond, giving her a dose of her own medicine.

She smiles. “I love you so much, Dylan. I couldn’t have lived without you, knowing that I had taken your life.”

She must be thinking about what happened to her. Yes, she definitely needs to talk to her counselor. I run my fingertips over her cheek and then her bottom lip.

“I couldn’t have lived if you had been killed,” I tell her.

“You would’ve been just fine, Dylan. You’re so muc
h stronger than I am. You’re the Master of your Universe.”

What does she mean by that?

“I’m stronger when I’m with you.”

She looks down at my hand and eyes it speculatively, then she looks at her own hand and mimics twirling her now missing ring.

“We’ll get you another one, Isa.”

“I don’
t want another one,” she says despondently.

I squeeze her hand tighter.

“When are we going to get you a ring? I want everyone to know that you belong to me.”

“I think everyone this side of t
he continent already knows that,” I say as I kiss the top of her hand. “But, you’re right; I do need a ring.” 

She lays her head back, closes her eyes and drifts
off to sleep. While she sleeps, I call Sawyer and ask him to make a private appointment for me and Isa when we land.

The flight is short and Isa wakes when the wheels hit the tarmac. She braces herself and prays silently. I know she hates this part.

Raul is waiting for us when we get off the plane. Carson thanks me for the vacation as we leave and apologizes for me and Isa’s shitty luck.

I whisper to Raul where to drive us and
Isa looks at me suspiciously.

“You have something up your sleeve, Dylan Nathaniel Young. What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

After a short drive, we pull
up outside Brookman’s Jewelers. Isa’s eyes get big and she sits up on the edge of the Rover’s seat.

“Dylan?”

“I know you said you don’t want another ring, but maybe we can just get a placeholder until we get the other one back.”

“C
an we pick something out for you, too?” she asks smiling innocently.

“Absolutely.”

We make our way in and the store has been cleared out. We have the place all to ourselves.

“You can pick whatever you want, love.”

Isa kisses me and then makes her way around to the different cases, peering through the glass as a sales woman is talking her ear off. I’m leaning up against one of the cases watching her. Isa is completely ignoring the woman and occasionally she looks back at me and smiles.

When the woman realizes she’s getting nowhere with Isa, she makes her way
over to me. I get the usual batting of the eyelashes and flipping of the hair. Good God, I’m married now. When will this shit end? Isa hears the woman blabbering on about something, looks back at us, and narrows her eyes at the sales rep. She stands up straighter, pushes her shoulders back, and clears her throat.


Excuse me. Yes, you,” she says when the woman looks over at Isa. “Are you going to help me find a ring or are you just going to continue flirting shamelessly with my husband?”

Oh
, shit. No she didn’t!
It takes everything I have not laugh out loud at the look on the poor woman’s face. She flushes red and stutters out some kind of apology. Isa looks over at me and sees me biting my lip from trying not to laugh and she sticks her tongue out at me.
Christ, I love that woman.

I see something catch her eye and I move
closer to see her choice. It’s a princess cut ruby set in white gold with two tiny diamonds on each side. It’s simple and understated, just like everything she picks. I was hoping for something more suited for a beautiful talented artist. I wrinkle my nose at her and point to a larger ruby encircled by sapphires and diamonds. Isa’s eyes get big and she grins from ear-to-ear.

“You like it?”
I ask.

“You have wonderful taste.”

“I know. I chose you, didn’t I?”

She looks deviousl
y at me. “I thought I chose you.”

Yeah, yeah.

The woman behind the case takes out the ring and Isa tries it on.

“Well, it’s not near
ly as beautiful as my wedding ring, but it sure is something, isn’t it?” She says sweetly.

“Yes, it is. Can you have it sized down to a 5 b
y tomorrow?” I ask the sales woman.

“Yes, I think so,” she answers casually.

“You think so?” I ask firmly.

The woman looks at
me apologetically and her face turns red again.

“I mean, yes, Sir. Of course we can.”

Isa shoots me a dirty look, but I’m not sure why.

Next we move to
the men’s rings and Isa immediately finds what she likes. She points to a white gold band with scroll etching and a single diamond in the center. She points to it and the woman takes it out.

“Do you have it in platinum
and a size 11?” I ask.

“I’m not sure.” The woman answers.

Jesus Christ, this woman is seriously irritating my wild hair.


Shouldn’t you be sure?” I ask.

Again, her chee
ks flush and she bats her eyelashes wildly at me.

“I mean, I can find out, Sir.” she responds
as she retreats to the back room.

Isa grabs my wrist and squeezes tightly. When I look down at her, she’s got the same dirty look on her face.

“Are you done?” she asks irritably.

“With what?”

“Seriously? Are you dominant with everyone or just anything with a pussy in general? You practically have her soaking her panties back there. Can we just pick out some wedding rings without you dominating and flirting with the staff?”

What the hell?
“Listen to me, Isabel. I’m not flirting with anyone. And my dominance isn’t intentionally aimed at anyone but you, so knock it the fuck off. The only one around here with their panties in a bunch is you.”

“I said soaked panties not panties in a bunch, and if she calls you Sir one more time, I swear to everything
holy I’ll shove my fist down her…” Isa’s threat is interrupted when the woman comes scurrying back out and she quickly quiets down.

“Here you go, Sir.”

The woman hands me the ring and Isa sighs loudly and rolls her eyes. I put the ring on and Isa’s breathing changes and so does the look on her face. She’s no longer irritated with me and her eyes gloss over.

“Can you excuse us, please?” I tell the sales woman and she leaves.

“Holy hot dominant male, you look good with that ring on. I’ll never be able to keep the women off of you now.”

***

Isabel

My husband
looks damned good wearing that ring. After ogling him for a few minutes, that stupid wench comes back out and blinks rapidly at him.
Get a clue, he’s mine
, I want to scream at her, but my instilled good manners shine through.

Dylan digs out his credit card, but I push it away.

“Let me pay for this, Dylan. Please.”

He looks revolted
at my suggestion.

“Isabel, no,” h
e says with furrowed eyebrows.

“Please. It just doesn’t seem right for you to pay for your own wedding ring. I have all this saved up mo
ney; what else am I going to spend it on? You don’t ever let me buy anything.  Please, sugar,” I plead as I reach down and start stroking his overly large package pressed neatly into his pants. I see the woman out of the corner of my eye get uncomfortable at my gesture, but I could care less. I’m glad she sees me fondling my Dom.

Dylan looks down at my hand caressing him and smiles.

“Are you trying to manipulate me?”


Of course I’m not. I’m trying to persuade you.”


Well, you’re doing a magnificent job at it.” He says and I can feel him growing harder to each of my strokes.

“Please, Sir, l
et me pay for it.”

He sighs exaggeratedly and then crookedly smiles at me.

“You know, if you really feel like spending your money, it would be better spent donating it to charity.”

“Okay. Whatever’s left
over, I’ll do that.”


Do you have any idea how much that platinum band costs? I doubt you’ll have anything left over.”


Oh, stop.”

I dig into my handbag and pull out my long unused debit card and Dylan looks irritated again.

“Is this really necessary?” he asks.

“Yes,
I want to do this for you.”

I
quickly hand over my card before Dylan changes his mind. The woman takes it and when she tells me the total I’m only mildly stunned. I give Dylan big exaggerated eyes and put my hand over my mouth in a faux ‘ooh’ and he laughs quietly and shakes his head.

T
he woman hands me the sales slip to sign and scans my still battered face. Dylan hands over his card to the woman to pay for my ring when she finally decides to open her mouth.


I read about what happened to you in the papers. That must’ve really sucked.”

Sucked?
Oh, brother. I don’t respond and Dylan looks angry.

“I wou
ldn’t say ‘sucked’ is a fitting term for what happened. Now can I pay for my wife’s ring without any more inconsiderate questions?”

Again, her face turns blood red.  I guess he really can’t help being dominant. It’s just who he is.

We leave and I want nothing more than to pounce on Dylan once we get into the Rover. I try making out with him, but again he puts the kibosh on it. What does he think will help by talking to my counselor? What’s done is done. I don’t want to think about it again. I see my surroundings as we drive in the opposite direction of home and I’m befuddled. I look over at Dylan who is watching me keenly.

“Where are going?”

“Home,” he simply answers.

“Is
this is a different way?”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” h
e says and looks out his window.

Good Lord he’s a terrible liar. Well, not that terrible consider
ing he was lying to me about Erika. I don’t want to think about that and I push it to the back of my mind. The drive is much longer than it usually takes. I lean my head back and close my eyes. I’m still so tired and sore. I suddenly remember the dream I had that triggered all of this nonsense.

“Dylan. The night I… you know…
shot you, I had a dream about my father. I only remember some of it, but I think it was the night my mother left. I think something terrible happened to her. I heard my father yelling at her and a loud thump, and then she screamed.”

Dylan’s in
terest is piqued. He sits up straight and looks alarmed.

“It was probably just a dream, right? After everything I read about my father, I just imagined it, right?”

Dylan shakes his head. “I don’t know. I definitely want you to talk to your counselor, but I want to be there for that session.”

“No, Dylan
. You know I can’t talk freely when you’re there. We already tried that. I don’t want to do that again.”

I think back to my first several visits. I know Dylan was just trying to help, but his presence made me uncomfortable and uptight.

“This is different. We’re married now. There isn’t anything you can say about your past or what’s happened that’s going to ever change the way I feel about you. Please tell me that you understand that.”

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