Page 32

Author: Tara Sue Me


“Nathaniel.” His name was a sigh from my lips.


He leaned down and kissed me, slowly bringing our hands above my head. The kiss deepened and he pushed further inside.


I groaned as he gave one final push and seated himself deep within me. He looked into my eyes as he withdrew and began a slow, drawn-out rhythm.


Oh, yes. My body remembered this.


The feel of being stretched. Of him above me. Of the way we moved together as one.


His fingers squeezed mine as he pushed inside again. He was slow and careful, drawing out every thrust. Timing each one, pulling out and waiting until the very second he knew I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore and then surging inside me again, filling me completely.


I arched my back, wanting to drive him in further. His muscles were tight and tense, his control betrayed by the sweat breaking out on his forehead.


“Nathaniel. Please.”


He quickened his pace, driving faster, but still not fast enough. I pulled my fingers from his and jerked his head toward mine while wrapping my legs around his waist. I lifted my body with each thrust of his and we both let out a moan as he slipped in deeper.


But he was still too slow.


I ran my nails down his back, scratching him. “Damn it, Nathaniel.” I bit his ear. “Fuck me.”


He growled, pulled back, and plunged into me. Pounding me over and over with each long, hard, deep thrust.


I felt my cl**ax building again.


His chest heaved as he thrust forward. I threw my head back and dug my nails into his back.


“Oh, God, Abby!”


He continued his rhythm, slipping a hand between our bodies and slapping my cl*t in time with his hips.


“I’m…I’m…I’m…” I stuttered.


He thrust one more time and my cl**ax overtook me. I let out a scream as his c**k plunged deeply again and again. Another cl**ax shook my body, but he kept pounding away.


His c**k twitched deep inside me. He thrust a few more times, then held perfectly still. He threw his head back and groaned. His release set off another orgasm for me.


He collapsed on top of me, chest heaving. I felt his heart pounding as he worked to catch his breath.


Then Nathaniel lifted his head and kissed me.


Later, when we could move again, he slid off the bed and walked to the dresser. I rolled to my side, the better to watch his n**ed self as he opened drawers and lit candles. Darkness had fallen, but the room slowly came to light as he lit one candle after another.


The candlelight played on his skin, casting shadows that flickered over his body. I rolled onto my back when he came back to the bed. He sat up a little and gathered me to him so my head rested on his chest.


“I didn’t plan for this to happen tonight,” he said, placing soft kisses on my forehead. “Truly, I didn’t.”


I snuggled down into his arms and sighed. “I’m glad it happened, though. Very glad.”


His arms tightened around me. “Abby? I know you didn’t bring anything, but would you stay with me tonight?” He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Here, in my bed?”


In his bed.


A tear slipped down my cheek. “Nathaniel…”


He brushed the tear away. “Please. Sleep here. With me.”


I sat up and kissed him. “Yes,” I said in between kisses. “Yes, I’ll stay.” I pushed him down onto the bed. “But we have hours before it’s even remotely time to think about something as mundane as sleep. So for now—” I traced his lips with my fingertips “—let me start with your mouth.”


He let out a low moan.


As we started moving together again, I knew two things:


Nathaniel loved me.


And someday, someday very soon, I would wear his collar again.


I woke to find someone trailing kisses across my collarbone. Soft lips wandered their way up my neck, across my cheekbone, up to my ear. It had been two weeks since I first spent the night in Nathaniel’s bed, and whenever I slept over, he always woke me up in the most delightful ways.


“Good morning,” Nathaniel whispered, his warm breath tickling me.


“Mm,” I replied and rolled closer to him as his arms embraced me. Waking up to Nathaniel’s kisses was my new favorite way to start the day.


“I brought breakfast,” he said.


Okay, scratch that. Waking up to Nathaniel’s kisses and having him bring me breakfast in bed was my new favorite way to start the day.


“What did you bring?” I asked, thinking about sitting up.


“Me.” He kissed one cheek. “Me.” He kissed the other. “And a side dish of me.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips.


For as long as I lived, I’d never grow tired of Nathaniel kissing me. But today was a big day for us, for our relationship, and I felt a little playful…


I rolled away from him. “Well, if that’s all you brought—”


His strong arms captured me and I giggled as he rolled me back to him.


“Although,” he said, “if you insist on proper nourishment, I did bring an omelet.”


I ran both my hands over the expanse of his chest. “No, thanks. On second thought, I’ll take the Nathaniel.”


He sat up. “I better let you eat before it gets cold.” He brought a tray from his dresser over to the bed and set it before me.


“For real? You’re not going to join me?”


He leaned over and kissed me once more. “I ate already and I really should get ready for work. You need to get ready, too.”


I mock-pouted as he walked off to the bathroom, watching as he stepped out of his pants on his way.


There were times I forgot how sensitive Nathaniel was. How he took everything so personally. Our relationship had grown by leaps and bounds during the last few weeks, but every once in a while, I caught glimpses of the fragile soul he was.


I took a bite of omelet. He needed to lighten up a bit. Learn to be more playful. As expected, the omelet was pure heaven on a plate—fluffy eggs, tangy sharp cheddar cheese—one decadent bite after another.


The sound of running water soon came from the bathroom. Nathaniel. Naked and in a hot shower.


Now that was pure heaven. No plate needed.


I ate the rest of the omelet, drank the fresh orange juice, and set the tray back on his dresser before walking into his bathroom.


Nathaniel’s bathroom was the size of my apartment, and he could host a small cocktail party in his shower. But even with all that, we’d never showered together.


He stood in the shower, obscured by steam. I knew from experience that two overhead and six side showerheads pounded his body. Whenever I used his shower, I never wanted to leave. Throw Nathaniel in the mix and I doubted either one of us would make it to work on time.


Oh, well…


I slipped the nightgown over my head and dropped it to the floor. Nathaniel had his back to me and couldn’t hear anything over the running water.


I quickly brushed my teeth, then opened the shower door and stepped inside, breathing in the misty steam. He spun around at the click of the door. I walked to him, wordlessly, and slipped my arms around his neck. Our lips came together in a soft kiss.


“Good morning,” I said against his mouth.


“Good morning. Was something wrong with breakfast?”


Yes, Nathaniel, I wanted to say. I’m standing n**ed in your shower because I want to complain about breakfast.


“Actually,” I said. “There was something missing.”


“Really? In the omelet?”


“Not the omelet per se, but I didn’t get the you.” I kissed one cheek. “You.” I kissed the other. “Or the side dish of you.” I kissed his lips.


“Can’t have that now, can we?”


“I should say not.”


“Hmm.” He pulled out my bodywash from its place inside the shower and started soaping up his hands. Within minutes I was covered in suds and I started washing my hair.


“I know we’ve discussed this at length,” he said as the warm water washed away the soap and I rinsed my hair. “But I’m going to ask you to humor me one more time.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “We don’t have to start anything this weekend.”


“I know,” I said, soaping my hands up and running them over his arms. “But I want to.” I stopped, not knowing how to phrase what I felt. “I never thought it would be something I needed…something I craved so much. I still don’t want to be with anyone other than you, but…” I forced myself to look into his eyes, to somehow convey to him how much I meant this. “I understand now why you thought it necessary to recommend other dominants for me.”


He pulled me softly to his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered into my hair.


And just like that, the last traces of doubt and guilt about our past fell away.


We stood like that for several seconds, feeling the past slip away, embracing our future. Slowly, he pulled back and lowered his head to mine. His tongue teased my lips and I sighed as he slipped inside, losing myself to his masterful mouth. Giving myself to him. Allowing all the swirling emotions to take over.


It was almost too much.


“Damn,” I said when the kiss ended.


“You feel it, too?”


I closed my eyes briefly and nodded. “Every. Single. Time.”


The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Come here,” he said and pulled me to the edge of the shower. He reached up and turned the overhead showerheads off so only the side ones sprayed us.


He took my right leg and set it on the tile-covered bench.


“Right here.” He ran a hand between my legs. “You are very, very dirty.”


Dirty?


What?


He noticed my shock. “Remember?” he whispered as his fingers grazed my wet entrance.


Oh…


He meant last night. I smiled as I thought back…Me straddling Nathaniel. Him above me, driving into me as I held on to the headboard.


I reached down and grabbed his hard cock. “Oh, yes. It’s definitely starting to come back.”


“Thank goodness. If you had already forgotten, I might have sunk into a deep, dark depression.”


I tightened my grasp. “There’s only one thing I want sinking deeply.”


“Fuck, Abby,” he said, working himself against my hand.


“Now, Nathaniel.”


He stopped his hips. “Always so impatient, love. You need to learn to savor pleasure.”


Damn incorrigible man. “I’ll savor pleasure later. You’re the one who said we needed to get ready for work.”


He gave me a lazy smile. “That was before you joined me in the shower.”


“We’ll be late,” I said, knowing full well my argument fell on deaf ears. No one cared if he was late—he owned and ran his business.


He bent down and whispered in my ear. “I’ll write you a note.”


I turned my head to meet his lips. “Oh, yeah?”


“Mm,” he said against my mouth. “Dear Martha, please excuse Abby’s tardiness this morning—”


“Oh, no you don’t.”


He put his finger against my lips. “She was inadvertently detained, quite on purpose, mind, by a plumbing problem that arose inexplicably in my shower.”


He started thrusting slowly in and out of my hand again.


“Your blatant attempt at sexual humor is quite juvenile,” I said.


“Really?” he asked, stopping his hips. “I thought it was pretty good for something I made up on the spot. Besides, Martha and I are like this.” He held up two entwined fingers.


“Just because Martha turns a blind eye to your Wednesday visits doesn’t mean she’s your best friend.”


“On the contrary, I owe Martha a lot. I never would have left that rose if she hadn’t found me with it.”

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