To Sir (30 page)

“Probably most of it. I came in right around the time you told Dusty I kicked your ass.”

His stomach flipped. “Yup, that was pretty much all the important shit, at least.”

“Would you have told me any of that if I hadn’t heard it?” She stared into his eyes from across the table, pinning him still with her gaze.

“Yeah, probably.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, maybe not.”

“You’re always needling me to fess up to you. That’s a two-way street, pal. No more freaking out about stuff without talking to me about it first, okay? You can’t keep leaving me in the dark.”

He knew she was talking about more than his fucked-up head space from last night. She was referring to the club’s troubles, which he’d been keeping from her. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few more minutes. She took a big gulp of juice and then pushed her empty plate away. “So, have you ever done that before? What we did last night?”

“Let someone else top me?”

She nodded.

“Never.”

“I figured as much. You were just so pissed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that kind of rage in anyone before. Except maybe staring back at me in the mirror.”

“You’ve felt like that?”

“All the time,” she whispered.

How had he not noticed? She always seemed so with it.

“This…being-submissive thing has helped. It gives me an outlet, a safe place to let go and feel whatever I want or need to. I’ve spent a good portion of my life hiding that kind of boiling inferno of fury. I figured if clicking into subspace helped me get a handle on that, maybe it would do the same for you.” She grinned. “Plus, it was sorta fun.”

He finished his last bite and laughed. “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it. I’m not sure I could switch like that on a regular basis. But I needed it last night. Clearly. And it was exhilarating to give up that control for once.”

“Is that what it’s called? Switching?”

“Yeah, when you can switch from being a Top to a bottom or the other way around. Some people are always Tops or bottoms until they meet a specific person, and then usually they only switch for that one person. For you and I to be able to switch like that is cool. In a really scary sort of way.”

She smiled. “I know what you mean. Fun as it was, it’s not something I’d want to do too often. I’m always the one in control of everything else going on in my life. It’s nice to surrender that.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I’m so glad you don’t hate me for last night.”

She squeezed his hand. “You have to stop worrying about that. Really. A mopey Dom is
not
sexy. Besides, I have something I want to give you.” She pulled her hand away and grabbed the e-reader. She walked around the table, and he moved his chair back. Sitting on his lap, she turned on the screen. “Here,” she said, handing the e-reader to him. He glanced down.

The Loving Sub

By: Elizabeth Leigh

“Forgive the working title. I’m still not quite happy with it, but we’ll figure out a better one at some point.”

“This is it. Your book?” He looked up. She was biting her lip, uncertainty blanketing her face.

She nodded. “Well, it’s the draft anyway. Turn the page,” she whispered.

He looked back down and flicked his finger over the screen to go to the next page. His heart stopped, then started beating double time, blood rushing through his ears.

Dedication:

To Sir. For opening my eyes and showing me the freedom of submitting to your will.

LIZ’S STOMACH CLENCHED, and she regretted eating. She was going to puke. He was staring at the screen, unmoving. It was a short dedication, so she knew he’d read it already, but still there was no reaction. His head was down, shielding his features from her gaze.

“Say something, for crying out loud,” she yelled when she couldn’t take it any longer. She’d wanted to show him this morning that everything was okay between them. At last, he’d let her in last night, lowering his invisible barriers and letting her see the angry, vulnerable side of himself he’d been keeping from her. No doubt the worries over the club had been what he was hiding from her.

Finally, he lifted his head. Those dark, penetrating eyes stared straight through her, leaving her naked, exposed. Tears and wonder shone in his gaze as it held her captive. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Her lungs burned for air. Then he was kissing her, and she couldn’t care less about breathing. His ravenous mouth devoured hers, caressing, licking, biting. He kept kissing her, fusing their mouths together again and again, as if he couldn’t get enough. As if he would
never
get enough of her. He leaned over, setting the e-reader on the counter behind him. Then he swiped his hand across the table, sending the dishes scattering in every direction. He lifted her off his lap and laid her down on the table.

He pulled the shirt over her head and groaned. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked down at her with wild eyes, seeming suspended in time for a moment. And then he snapped back into action, pulling at his clothes, shoving his jeans down his legs, leaving them pooled at his ankles. He bent over her, kissing his way up and down her chest, her neck, her navel, sliding his tongue over the sore flesh between her legs. She whimpered at the soothing caress.

He brought her to a fever pitch of need in an instant with his crazed hands and mouth all over her body. She thrashed, and he grabbed the backs of her thighs, positioning her at the edge of the table. Her eyes were half-closed, her mind swimming in the waves of need.

“Elizabeth. Look at me,” he commanded.

Her eyes popped open.

“I always,
always
play safe.”

Her brain took a minute to process what he was saying. Was he really asking her if she always used protection? She swallowed. She’d never had a long enough relationship that she’d felt comfortable having sex without it. And she’d been taking the pill for years. It was the only thing she ever remembered to do, even when she was immersed in her books.

She bit her lip. “I’ve never gone without protection.”

“Contraception?”

“On the pill.”

His wolfish grin made her shiver. “Are you ready for this?”

“God, yes,” she groaned.

He didn’t wait for any more of an invitation. He slammed his way home, and it was only his iron grip on her thighs that kept her from sliding across the table with the force of his thrust. She cried out.

“Oh, hell yeah,” he shouted.

She’d never thought about condoms being restrictive, about them getting in the way. Now she knew what she’d been missing. His cock moved slowly in and out of her, the friction incredible, the feel of skin on skin like nothing she’d imagined.

“Play with yourself for me, sweetheart.” It was a soft command, but one she was all too eager to obey. He lifted her thighs higher, holding her steady as he increased his thrusts, pistoning faster and faster. She grabbed her breasts, plumping and massaging them, teasing her nipples with the pads of her fingers and then her nails. She moaned as he grasped her thighs tighter.

She sacrificed playing with one nipple to spread her folds and rub her clit. It was still sore, still so sensitive that it only took a few strokes.

“Almost there,” she said between pants.

He grunted and kept moving. She pinched one nipple, then the other. Arching her back, she closed her fingers tightly around her nipple and pulled, rubbing faster and harder on her clit. The bite of pain jolted through her, rolling into the pleasure and lacing it like a drug. She screamed as her body catapulted over the edge. She came hard, her sheath clenching his shaft, demanding he come with her. He thrust deep, making her cry out, and then tilted his head back and groaned, his body straining as he emptied himself inside her.

His shoulders slumped, and she slipped her fingers away from her clit and nipple, her body thrumming. He loosened his hold on her thighs. He stepped back, leaving her feeling chilly and bereft without his body inside hers.

“Well, that was…messy,” he said, grinning like crazy.

She sat up, and he helped her stand. “Allow me,” she said, grabbing some napkins off the counter.

“By all means,” he said, lifting his hands behind his head.

She rubbed the soft napkins around the head of his shaft, then down to the base and back up. She repeated this process with clean napkins until he was panting. His eyes clouded with lust.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“My pleasure.” She knelt before him, and he gasped. This was the ultimate submissive position, she knew. She tugged his pants up his legs and over his hips, rising on her knees but remaining in the position. When she slid his cock into the front of his jeans and zipped and buttoned them, the pride on his face warmed her. She sat back, her ass resting on the backs of her heels. Then she placed her hands palms up on her thighs and tilted her head to the side so she could see his face out of the corner of her eye.

His face was now hard, his jaw etched from stone, his eyes glittering. Her kneeling had pushed him right into full Dom mode. Her breath came in soft pants, her heart still thundering from her last orgasm. She stayed as motionless as possible, her muscles relaxing into the position the way she did in Pilates in a particularly difficult pose. She let her mind settle as she waited.

“Come here,” he said gruffly after another few minutes. She pushed gracefully to her feet, her eyes still downcast. “You are like the most precious gift,” he said as he reached out to touch her. His fingers sent an electric shock through her, and she started. He ran his fingers through her hair. “Turn around.”

She presented her back to him.

“Spread your legs.”

She did, her muscles shivering.

“Hands on the floor.”

She took a deep breath and sank into a forward fold, her palms taking the weight of her upper body as they landed on the hardwood floor.

“Mmm,” he purred appreciatively. He cupped her sex with his hand. She moaned at the heat. His hand was quickly replaced with a soft napkin, and she groaned as he swiped it along her folds, the friction making her quake. He rubbed her gently with the material, cleaning her. Then he started on her thighs, up and down and up again until she was out of her mind with desire.

He teased her entrance with two fingers, slipping them in just enough to make her moan before pulling them back out again. He did this several times, and she watched as his fingers disappeared deep inside her folds. She cried out as he pushed down on the front wall of her sheath.

He rubbed her there back and forth, driving her crazy. She bucked against his hand. “If you come, I will take that spatula off the counter and spank your bare ass with it,” he warned.

She closed her eyes and panted, biting down on her lip and forcing herself to obey him. He played with her G-spot, rubbing her over and over but refusing to let her come. He pulled his hand back, then slipped a third finger in, the pressure returning right where she needed it most. She pulsed with longing. He reached his other hand around her hip, and she watched as he spread her folds to expose the swollen nub of her clit. With wet fingers, he rubbed her lightly, his other fingers pushing deep and pressing insistently on that spot inside her.

She groaned, begging him to put her out of her misery. Her body wept for release.

“No,” he said, answering her silent pleas. He pulled his fingers back from her clit and her sheath. She screamed her frustration. He patted her on the ass. “Good girl. Stand up.” She obeyed, teetering on unsteady legs. She felt like any sudden movement might set off the rockets. She turned to face him. His grin was pure evil. “Go shower.”

She nodded, slowly walking to the other side of the room.

“And Elizabeth?”

She turned. “Yes, Sir?”

“If you make yourself come, I will spend the rest of the day torturing you.”

She shuddered at the promise in his voice. She might come just listening to his orders. Her body didn’t feel like hers to command any longer. It only wanted to obey him. She almost wanted to come right there, ride her hand to bliss and make him watch, knowing how delicious the torture would be. But she couldn’t. She had a plan for the rest of the day, and it didn’t include being tied up in his playroom, unfortunately.

So instead, she lowered her eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” His voice practically purred, the low vibration of it skittering down her spine, even though she was across the room.

She was careful to keep her movements slow and controlled as she stepped up the stairs. She was still walking that razor’s edge of desire, and any friction between her legs was liable to send her right over.

She took the longest, coldest shower she could stand, her head buzzing. She almost came, twice. But she managed, somehow, to hold off the orgasm by sheer force of will. When she stepped out from under the frigid water, her breathing and heart rate were back into their normal range, and she quickly dried and dressed, avoiding her erogenous zones as much as possible. When she went back into the kitchen, she was equal parts pleased and horrified to see Chase sitting at the table with his feet up, reading.

He glanced at her, his dark gaze roving over her from top to bottom. “Good girl,” he said, that infuriating grin still on his face.

She smiled and went to him. She draped her arms around him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I have to go see my family today.”

He stiffened, setting the reader down on the table. “When?”

“Now.”

“You really think this is a good idea?”

“I have to.” She didn’t tell him why. Didn’t tell him that she didn’t care if she never saw them again or that she was only going to try to get her father to see reason. To get him to back off and let Chase live his life.

“Okay. Then I’m coming with you.” His voice was implacable.

She was going to have to play dirty. “And I love that you want to come to support me when I see them. I get it. You want to protect me and all that. But you can’t.”

“Like hell. I said I’m going with you, and I am.”