“Mmm,” I hummed, pulling her into my arms. “How did I get so lucky to be blessed with such an agreeable wife?”
“I’m not so certain you’re the lucky one.” Her voice fell to a whisper as I pushed her back to the bed. “Pretty sure that would be me.”
I could have argued with her, but I thought rendering her speechless a much better use of my time. Without saying a word, I inched down her body, peppering kisses to her skin along the way. I reached her upper thighs, delighting in her soft gasp and the fingers suddenly clutching my hair.
Blowing a stream of warm air across her, I whispered against her skin. “I can’t wait to taste you.” Her current position didn’t allow me the access I needed, so I pushed her knees further apart and settled myself between them. “So much better,” I said in response to her whimper at my action.
I teased her for a few minutes before giving in and doing what both of us craved. Even then I took my time. I had promised to worship her body, I couldn’t get her off too quickly. And when she finally came, I wanted to have achieved my speechless goal.
I took my time with the rest of her body. Stroking my fingers along the back of her knees, then flipping her over so I could taste the small of her back at the spot where my hand rested so frequently.
Only when I knew I had her aroused to the point that the smallest touch would set her off, did I roll her over onto her back, and once more settle between her legs.
“Open your eyes for me, Abby,” I whispered, my voice tight with need. I had almost taken her from behind, but wanted to see her face-to-face. To heighten the connection between us, and because it would allow me to savor her more.
She slowly blinked. The dark need visible in her eyes intensified my own and I took a deep breath, telling myself to take my time and not rush. I slipped a hand between her legs. I was almost certain she was wet enough, but I always checked. The one thing I never wanted was to hurt her in any way.
“Now,” she urged me, lifting her hips up to meet my fingers. “I promise I’m good.”
“That was never a concern of mine. I assure you.” I dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “You are always good.”
“Nathaniel?” she asked, and I raised an eyebrow in question. “Please. Now.”
I normally enjoyed hearing her beg and had no issue making her wait. But at that moment I feared I was already dangerously close to the edge of my control, and I saw no reason to deny us what we both wanted. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Our last time together had been hurried since we were in the shower, and as nice as the chalet was, the hot water would only last so long. Not wanting to end our time together in a cold shower, I’d urged her to climax quicker than normal and faster than I’d have liked.
That was not the case tonight, however. Tonight, I could take as long as I wanted, and I planned to enjoy every second. I pushed her knees back toward her chest, and she sucked in a breath because she knew how deep inside her I’d be able to go in that position. Knew how good it’d feel.
I didn’t make either of us wait any longer. Lining myself, I was inside her with one thrust.
“Nathaniel!” she called out, already panting, and grinding her hips as if that would get me to move before I was ready. “Fuck.”
“Patience, Abby,” I whispered, holding still, making her do the same.
“Fuck patience.” She still wiggled, though perhaps not as much as seconds before.
“Feel how deep I am?” I asked in a calm voice, even though every muscle I had strained with the overwhelming desire to move. I wasn’t sure if Abby knew how hard it was to keep still while buried inside her.
“Yes,” she said, and her body seemed to relax, perhaps realizing I would give nothing until I was ready.
Which was right where I wanted her. Relying on me for pleasure, knowing how good I’d make her feel. When I held her in my arms, I was the most powerful man in the world. Because that’s what it felt like when she gave me her trust and surrendered her control. It didn’t matter if we were in a scene or not, or whether or not she wore my collar. What mattered was her belief in me.
I inched back, drawing out, but not completely. Just until I heard her gasp at the thought I would. And then thrusting inside once again. Feeling even better this time because I’d caught her off guard.
“Oh, God. Yes,” she half moaned.
Pleased now that I had her where I wanted her, I moved faster. Not enough to push either of us over the edge. Not yet. Only enough to drive her to where she was a breath away from it and to keep her there, for as long as I could.
I slowed my strokes, causing her to whimper. Her nails scratched my back.
“I’m not ready to give in just yet,” I told her. “I think I could do this all night.” Which was far from the truth and we both knew it, but if the possibility existed in her mind that it could somehow happen, that was all I needed to make her think it was a reality.
She lifted her hips, trying to get me deeper still. I arched my back and gave her more, angling myself to hit those spots I knew would have her climaxing around me within a matter of minutes. She knew it as well as I did, and she didn’t slow down or stop the ever growing climb as I pushed us both toward it.
She came apart seconds before I followed. I held my body above her and ran my lips across her collarbone. “You’re always so beautiful when you come. I love watching your expression as pleasure overtakes you.”
And I was the luckiest bastard in the country because I was the only one who could put that look on her face.
9
Abby
I woke up the next morning, ready to be naughty, but in a good way. Nathaniel was still sleeping, so I slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. I spent some time in the bathroom, washing up before I headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. On my way out, I grabbed a robe off of a hook and slipped it on.
Normally, I’d cook breakfast naked because Nathaniel liked it so much, but today I planned on cooking bacon. I’d attempted to do so once with no clothes on. Nathaniel found me in the kitchen yelping at the sizzling grease hitting my uncovered skin as the bacon popped in the pan. He’d calmly tuned the oven off and said watching me get burned by oil was on his hard limit list.
I loved cooking and had always enjoyed making meals for him and the kids. Not that Nathaniel couldn’t cook, he could, and we often switched it up at home. But there was a primeval joy I got from serving him domestically as part of our BDSM play.
I’d long ago accepted that as part of my makeup and stopped trying to explain it either to myself or other submissives. Instead of feeling bad or guilty, I used it as an example to show them how there were many types and forms of kink. Was the fact I enjoyed cooking for my Dominant any more or less of a valid way to play then their enjoyment of objectification? Because, frankly, we’d done that a few times, and I’d much rather be cooking something for Nathaniel than acting like his table.
I smiled, remembering the last time our Partners group did an informal workshop for people interested in learning more about the lifestyle. We’d broken out into small groups, and Sasha Johnson and I teamed together to lead a chat with a group about submission. I’d just finished my spiel about how I’d rather cook than be a table, when Sasha held up her hand and said, “I’ll be a two tone teak wood table with pedestal legs for a party of twelve before you’ll see my ass in a kitchen cooking.”