Unforgettable You (Me, You, and Us Book 2) Page 5

  “Th-th-th-th-thank you,” she manages to stutter out. “Sir.”

  It’s time for me to take control because I know it will make her more comfortable and confident. “You’re welcome, little sub. Now, let’s talk about what we came in here to do.” She nods. “I want to amend it. No sensation play, and I don’t want to do the orgasm torture, but I do want to give you one orgasm. I think it’ll help you relax. If you want more, you can tell me. But everything else as we discussed. Agreeable?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Then the first thing for you to do is undress.” She shoots me a look. “No. I don’t undress you. You undress yourself. It’s a willful baring of yourself to me. Most Doms will expect that from you. We’re going to get into more of the formal issues later on, but tonight we’ll just touch on some of them. But yes, you are expected to undress.”

  “Will you too, Sir?”

  “Later, yes, but not initially. Balance of power. I’m in control and you have to acknowledge that or this won’t work. Someone has to be in control. There’s a secret I’ll tell you later, but right now, you just need to learn to obey.” I kiss her forehead and point to the center of the floor. “Up and undress for me.” She stands and turns her back to me. “No. Face forward. I want to watch you as you undress.” When she hesitates, I tell her, “You can do this. I know you can.”

  As I watch, she slips off her platform stilettos, then slips her black lace tee over her head and throws it on the floor. My first chance to direct her. “Sub, as you undress, you’ll fold your clothes neatly and place them on the table over there,” I say, pointing to a small table across the room. “One piece of clothing at a time.” Expressionless, she picks up the shirt, takes it to the table, folds it neatly, and puts it there. Then she shimmies out of those tight faux leather pants she’s wearing and does the same with them. She reaches back and unsnaps her bra, draws it down her arms, and, as she adds it to the other things she’s already folded, she puts a hand on the table to steady herself as she pulls off her panties and adds them to the pile. That’s when she turns to me.

  Holy shit. I mean, really, holy shit. This girl, my god. It’s been years since I’ve seen a body like this one, if I ever even have. Her breasts are full, but they’re almost pubescent in their shape, with large, soft nipples a beautiful, pale rose color. Her waist is small and well-defined, and she’s got curvy, ample hips that make me want to scream and shout. I’d been holding her while she cried, and that’s not the sexiest thing in the world, but one look now and my cock is so hard that it feels like it’s on fire. It’s a fight to keep from unzipping my leathers and stroking myself. As she comes back toward me, I point to her shoes. “Put those back on. I like them and I want you to wear them.”

  I can tell I’ve surprised her. “You want me to wear them when we . . .” she trails off.

  “Yes. I do. They’re very sexy.” Stepping into them, she makes her way back across the room to me and stands in front of me. Instead of giving in to my knee-jerk reaction to reach up and fondle her nipples, I point to the bed. “On the bed. On your back. Hands at your sides.” While she climbs up into the middle of the bed, I go to the chest on the back wall and find the restraints. She lies very still while I fasten them around her thighs, then use the attached cuffs to secure her hands. I lie down on the bed beside her, then roll her onto her side until my chest is snugged up to her back. Slipping one arm under her, I roll us again until she’s lying on top of me on her back. Arms wrapped around her waist, I give her a few seconds to get used to the position, her head back over my shoulder, her ear against mine. Then I drag my hands from her waist up her ribcage, up and under her breasts, and take a nipple in each hand. She cries out when I pinch them, so I ramp up the stimulation, a couple of pinches, then rolling them between my thumb and forefinger, followed by tugging upward. That really gets her going. She’s moaning and squirming when I ask her, “Does this make you hot, subbie?”

  “Yes, Sir, very hot, Sir.”

  I stifle the urge to snicker. “Good. I’m glad. So I’ll keep it up for a few minutes.” My fingers become more aggressive, pinching harder, twisting harder, pulling out farther, all the while listening to her cry out. I know she can feel my growing hardness right up the cleft of that beautiful ass, but I still do my best to let her know it’s there and waiting. Ten minutes of that and I know she’s ready.

  My right hand wanders down her body ever so slowly, tracing little circles on her skin, and I feel her squirm against me as she realizes what’s coming. When I slowly draw my knees up so my feet are flat on the bed, I make sure they part her legs on the way up and, by the time I’ve stopped, her legs are wide open, each one on the outside of mine. In this position, her legs actually drop down and away from her engorged little nub, leaving it high and prominently on display. Continuing to trace little patterns on her skin, I lift my head and look down the length of her body. Yep, I can see straight down to the cleft just below her mons and, before I drop my head back, I whisper in her ear, “Sub, you are so beautiful. Your body is a work of art.” And it works; I feel her relax against me as my fingers continue their downward trek. Stroking her mound with three fingers brings out a moan, and I wait, trying to prolong the initial touch, but I just can’t. That tiny, swollen bud calls to me and I can’t say no.

  My finger dips to her slit, drags from her introitus up through her engorged lips, and finds the prize. When I touch it, she cries out, and my left hand, still on her breast, pinches her nipple hard. The instant she cries out from the pinch, I go to work, tenderly circling the center of her arousal, feeling her squirm against me and go even wetter than she was. When I stop for a split second to grab the bottle of lube on the bedside table and pour a little on my right index finger, she whines until I’m finished and start in on her again. She wants it. I’m so damned excited I may just shoot off in my leathers.

  She’s escalating, growing more agitated, more excited, thrashing against the restraints, and I whisper into her ear, “At some point, I will own your orgasms. They’ll be mine, and I’ll give them to you whenever I please, even without touching you. But for now, I want you to come any time you’re ready. Any time, sub.”

  I give her little nub about three more strokes and she explodes, wriggling and crying out, her hips bucking for all they’re worth. I keep it up until I hear her cry out, “Nooooo! No more!” and, even though I don’t want to, I stop. Once I’ve rolled us both to our sides, I scoot out from behind her, lay her flat, and take off the restraints. Instantly, her arms reach for me and, try as I may, I can’t move away. I wrap my arms around her waist as hers encircle my neck and kiss her like a starving man looking for bread. Finally breaking away, I get up and stand by the bed, then unzip my leathers as she watches. I want to see her reaction when she sees this cock for the first time.

  And there it is – her mouth forms an appropriate “O” and I almost laugh. It measures out at about nine and a half inches, and about seven and a half inches in circumference, long and meaty with a nicely-proportioned head. And it’s got a very gentle upward curve that’s great for g-spot stimulation. I’ve never met a woman who didn’t love this dick. And did I mention that it’s now rock-hard? Yeah. Hard as stone and throbbing. I can see my pulse in the veins up and down its length. I don’t often admit this, but sometimes I just stare at it and can’t believe it’s mine. That sounds crazy, I know, but it’s quite the point of pride for me, this fabulous tool. Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a bit, but hey, it’s still pretty damn big. I can make a woman scream with it, so I don’t mind showing it off when I get a chance.

  And it’s working. “Oh, god, Sir.” That’s all she says. I don’t utter a word, just roll on a condom, climb back onto the bed with her, and wrap my arms around her with my gaze locked on hers.

  “I intend to drive you insane. And I’m starting now.” My lips meet hers and I make the kiss fierce, something to melt her. I take a hand down, grab my cock, line it up with the wettest spot on her body, an
d press forward.

  How in the hell am I going to hold off for any length of time? Her back arches and her lips leave mine to cry out, “Oh my god! Damn, damn, damn!” I take my time, moving slowly inside her, relishing every little inch of her tightness and heat. Lost in it, she grips my shoulders and moans out, “Oh, damn. Oh, fuck. So good, so good. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

  And that’s exactly what I do, but before she has a chance to whine, I kiss down that remarkable body a little at a time, slide downward, let her fragrance soak into me. Lips trembling, I suck her clit between them and tug slightly. Her back arches again and she wraps her fingers in my hair and rasps out, “Oh, god, yes. That feels so good.” That’s not enough; I slip two fingers into her pussy and stroke slowly, feeling her body tense and coil. Just when I think she’s about to give in and come, I stop again and begin to make my way back up that body, stopping to suck and tease her hard, huge, rosy nipples. When I get back up her neck to her mouth, I kiss her again and drive my cock home for the second round. She moans into my lips, and I return the favor.

  I break away and look down into her face. “God, sub, your pussy’s like heaven on earth. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” A giggle drifts from her lips and then she kisses me, just as ferociously as I had her.

  This is going quite well. Quite well indeed.

  I repeat this whole process about eight times before my lips just brush hers and I tell her, “This is it. I want you to come with me. I’ll hold off until you do, okay?” I feel like an explorer about to plant a flag on the top of the mountain he’s just scaled, a claiming of the peak, and I feel her tense all over. About ten strokes in, I hear her voice escalate as she says, “Oh. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Oh damn, oh god. Oh god, oh, oh, oh, OHHHHHH!!!” and she clamps down around my shaft – hard – as her hips thrust toward my pelvis. And that’s it for me. On my final mission, I pump into her forcefully as my balls tighten and, in just a few seconds, I feel everything I have unload through the slit in the tip of my dick and fill my condom.

  I don’t want to pull out of her. Ever. I want to stay here, buried inside her, soaking in her heat, holding her softness against me. Once we’ve rolled to our sides, I just wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. “Do all Doms treat their subs this well, Sir?”

  This is that moment, the one where I decide if I want to be totally honest with this woman or just treat her like any other sub and hope something comes of it. And I hope the decision I make is the right one when I say, “No. Only if they care about them.” I pull back so I can see her face, and what’s written on it makes my heart flutter in my chest. “And I do care about you, Sheila. I want to see you satisfied, and I want to be satisfied too, but I’d die before I’d hurt you.”

  A tiny smile tugs the corner of her lips upward. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “A solid Dom/sub relationship is built on trust and communication. I can’t be anything but honest with you or that’s not accomplished.” I follow that with, “If all relationships were built like a Dom/sub relationship, more couples would stay together.”

  She purses her lips and nods. “That’s certainly true.” I can practically see the gears turning, and then she adds, “I haven’t lied to you about anything, Sir. Everything I’ve told you is one hundred percent true. And I’ll never lie to you about anything, Steffen. You can count on that.” At the sound of my name, my heart gives a little leap and I feel the greatest measure of hope that I have in a while.

  “And I haven’t lied to you about anything either, baby. I take this stuff seriously, and I don’t mean just BDSM. I take relationships seriously. I have a lot of casual friends and acquaintances, but very few good, close friends. And I’d like to think that’s what we’re becoming.”

  “Me too, Sir. Me too.” As she sighs and curls into my chest within the snugness of my arms, I hope she never finds out that I haven’t entered into the sin of commission, just the sin of omission.

  I haven’t lied. I just haven’t told the entire truth.

  “Hey, babe, I think we probably need to get out of here.” I’ve looked at my watch and we’ve been lying here for about an hour. “Want me to get dressed and get out of here so you can have some privacy?”

  She screws up her face. “Why? We just had sex for an hour and a half. You’ve seen everything there is to see. I’m certainly okay with you watching me dress.”

  That prompts me to say, “You know, you’re one of the easiest people to be around that I think I’ve ever met.”

  When she smiles and her face lights up, I feel like I’ve won the lottery. “You know, that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s said to me in a long, long time. Thanks for that.”

  “Well, it’s true. You’re a super-nice person. You must have a lot of friends.”

  Her face saddens. “Not so many. After what happened, it’s hard to trust people.” She’s sitting up on the bed with the sheet pulled up and over her knees, and I reach over and take her hand as I lie there. I nod before I speak.

  “Yeah. I can understand that. I hope I can convince you that you can trust me.” Should I? Yep – I’m going to step out there. “You know, Sheila, it feels like maybe, I don’t know, do you get the feeling that maybe we have something going on here that’s worth exploring?”

  My heart almost explodes when she nods. “Yeah. I think we might.” Before I can say anything else, she adds, “Do you want to try? See where it goes?”

  And there it is. My chance. I refuse to blow it. “Absolutely. So how about we start here: As long as we’re working together as Dom and sub, I’ll commit to not working with another sub. What do you think?”

  I get a smile from that. “Yeah! I think that’s good.” Then she giggles. “I’m a little too shy to work with anyone else anyway. But I’m comfortable with you. You’ve been so, um, considerate. And patient. You’re the first guy I’ve ever had sex with who seemed to actually be concerned about what I was getting out of it, not just using me as a big masturbator.”

  That makes me laugh. “Nope! I’m sure not going to do that! And I am concerned with your satisfaction, more so than with my own. You come first.” Now I’m starting to feel bold, and I think about what Clint said. “So . . . would you like to maybe have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  Her eyes go wide. “You mean, like a date?”

  I can feel my forehead wrinkling. “Yeah, like a date.” Her next question surprises me.

  “Isn’t that against the rules?”

  “What rules?”

  “You know, the BDSM rules or something, I don’t know.”

  Oh, how precious. She is absolutely the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “The BDSM rules are the rules we make as a partnership. If we don’t want a particular rule, we just don’t make it. And no, Sheila, there are no rules against us having some kind of relationship. Remember what I told you: People enter into these agreements because they just want to be loved?” She nods. “Most people enter into a BDSM contract because they either love each other or they’re capable of meeting each other’s needs and want to do just that. And that, along with respect, are in their own ways love.”

  She nods. “True.”

  “So. Date? Dinner? Maybe a walk down to the pier?”

  “Sure! What time?”

  “Six?”

  “That’s good.” She starts gathering up her clothes.

  “And by the way, I don’t even have your phone number.”

  She’s drawing on her bra and I hate to see those gorgeous nipples disappear behind that fabric. “Oh, yeah! So let’s get our phones out before we leave and exchange them. And you’ll need my address to pick me up.”

  “That I will.” Now I’m happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. Clint was right. I think this is a good idea. I’m having to suppress the desire to squeal like a little girl.

  Tomorrow night, I’ve got a date.

  I don’t know where we’re going. What should I wear
?

  The text surprises me a little, but it makes me smile too.

  Reservations at Treadway’s, so dressy casual. BTW, can’t wait to see you.

  I wait for a few minutes. Too strong? Then I smile.

  Can’t wait to see you too.

  Ah. That’s better.

  I get home from work and scurry around to change and get ready to go. I don’t think anyone can appreciate the position I’m in. As a regional manager, I’ve got eight branch banks under me. My office is in the biggest one. Within this system, we’ve got over one hundred employees, full-time and part-time, and about ninety-two percent of them are women. That means out of all of the women I know, about ninety-nine percent of them are involved in my business somehow, and I don’t date within that pool. At all. Bad idea. That leaves me with pretty much no one except subs at the club and, up to this point, I’ve pretty well avoided that.

  But Sheila’s different. She’s a friend of a friend, so that removes the work dimension. And I’m trying to handle this very carefully because I certainly don’t want to lose Clint and Trish as friends. But I can’t ignore the fact that I’m overwhelmingly attracted to this woman. If this goes nowhere, I’ll be very disappointed.

  Windswept Florists is right on my way, and I stop to pick up some colorful flowers that I think she’ll like. I also ask for a single rose, and I leave it in its box in the back of the car so I can give it to them at the restaurant to bring to the table.

  It’s high school all over again when I ring her doorbell. My hands are sweating and my heart is racing. My first thought is, Damn, Cothran, you’ve been out of the game too long. But when she opens that door, I feel like my timing is just right.