“The rules are simple, Dahlia.” I glance at her and then back onto the road. “You act as though we’re a couple, just be mindful that people will be watching, even when you think no one is.” I readjust in my seat and consider my next words, “Be respectful to me as your Dom. I know this is new to you, but you understand what that means, don’t you?” I watch her from the corner of my eye.
“I think so,” she answers hesitantly.
“Go on then.”
“A Submissive is supposed to treat her Dominant with respect.”
“As should a Dominant to his Submissive,” I respond easily. I’m surprised by the flash of shock on her face and how her sweet lips part. “You don’t agree?”
“I-” she starts to answer, but she doesn’t finish her statement.
“Tell me about why you enjoy this, Dahlia.” I keep my eyes on the road, but I’m fully focused on my treasure. It’s important to me that we’re on the same page here. I keep forgetting she’s never done this before. That everything is new and different.
“I enjoy…” her voice trails off and she looks out of the window, tucking her hair back as she clears her throat. “I enjoy it when you’re rough with me.” She whispers her words, and the soft sounds makes my dick harden in my pants.
“I enjoy that, too,” I tease her. “But this is more than just rough sex,” I add.
“Yes,” she answers diligently, nodding her head. “It’s about me submitting all things and giving you control of the situation.”
I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t. “And for you to trust that I know what you need, and that I’ll provide it for you.” I hold her gaze as we stop at a red light. Waiting for her to acknowledge that.
“Right,” she says softly although there’s no conviction in her voice.
“You’ve never had a relationship like ours before? But you’ve had boyfriends I assume?” It sounds odd to say the term boyfriend. I never much liked the word.
“I have.”
“And would you call them dominant?” I ask her.
Her forehead pinches and she shakes her head slightly. “No. I wouldn’t.” She puts a finger to her lip and seems to truly consider what I’m asking.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“My last… my ex.” I drive easily, listening to her tell me about her experience. “He didn’t really know how to help me in ways that I needed him to.” It’s a rather cryptic response, but I respect her privacy if she’s not willing to divulge any more information.
“And you communicated your needs, but they weren’t fulfilled. You couldn’t trust him to take care of you in that way?”
“Right,” she nods her head, “so yeah, I wouldn’t say he was my Dominant. He didn’t know how to be,” her voice is soft and coated with the sound of realization. “He couldn’t be my Dom.”
“Is that why it didn’t last?” I ask her. I’m curious. The conversation itself has made me want to know more.
“He just didn’t understand.” She answers with a sadness I wasn’t expecting.
“What’s that?”
“Hmm?” she hums.
“What didn’t he understand?”
“I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright?” The shyness and sadness mix in her eyes. Also apprehension.
“That’s fine, treasure. You can keep a few secrets.”
“My point was I respect your needs and your submission, and you do the same for me and my dominance. It’s about trust, respect and communication.”
I pull through the valet at the Ritz-Carlton and put the car in park so I can look at her. “Do you think I don’t respect you, Dahlia?”
I ask her in all seriousness. I respect her and her submission. I know her needs, and what she enjoys. We share the same desires, so it’s been extremely easy for me to fall into the dominant role in our relationship and fulfill her needs, but maybe I’ve missed something.
I lean forward and take her chin in my hand, tilting her lips to mine and planting a small chaste kiss against them. “Don’t forget for even one second, that every time I smack my hand across your ass, it’s because I know you need it.” I nip her bottom lip and then whisper, “Every time I fuck you until you can’t breathe, it’s because I know you want it.” Her eyes close, and her lips part with lust. I reach my hand down and let my fingers play along the thin fabric of her underwear. “I give you what you want, I respect your needs, I cherish them.”
“And you’ll do the same for me, won’t you, treasure?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers with lust.
“Ah, ah,” I say as I pull away, turning the car off and grabbing the key. “Right now, it’s ‘yes, Lucian.’”
Chapter 16
Dahlia
Every time I fuck you until you can’t breathe, it’s because I know you need it.
Lucian’s words repeat in my mind as I climb out of his sports car, my breath catching in my throat as I take in the gorgeous view. Holding the door for me, Lucian gives me a boyish grin as a young valet dressed in a black suit and gold vest jogs up to us and hastily greets Lucian with a slight nod, asking him for the keys to the car.
“This is beautiful,” I breathe, turning to Lucian and shaking my head. The valet grabs the keys from Lucian, grinning at the sports car like a kid at Christmas, before running around to the driver’s side and jumping in. “I’ve never been taken to a place like this. Ever.” I turn back and take in the restaurant with awe, admiring the scenic view. The building, which is cut of exquisite grey stone and has gleaming tall glass windows adorning the front, sits back on a terrace overlooking a beautiful lake. Floodlighting brightens the entire area, showcasing every inch of the grandmaster masonry. Intricately designed stamped concrete steps lead up to the entrance, a sparkling water fountain with ambient lighting rests at the center of the plaza, and a fancy balustrade runs up along each side. The full moon looms in the starry night sky, milky white light reflected against the water, making the scene even more romantic.
I watch in wonder as men in expensive suits and ties walk up the steps with women dressed in absolute finery on their arms. The gowns these ladies are wearing look like they cost a fortune, dazzling jewels and all, and it makes me feel more than a little self-conscious.
No wonder Lucian wasn’t pleased by my outfit, I think to myself, glancing down at my outfit that seems drab compared to the others. He’s accustomed to seeing women wearing all this.
Lucian is enjoying my shock, watching me with obvious amusement. “I thought you might like it,” he says, splaying a hand across the small of my back. “But come, I think you’ll enjoy the inside even more.”
Breathless, I allow him to lead me up the steps to the restaurant, and I try to appear confident like all the other women around me. Like I belong on Lucian’s arm. But it’s hard. I can’t stop worrying about people looking at me and thinking that I look out of place. Glancing around, no one seems to be paying us any mind, and the pleasant sounds of the waterfall take the edge off my anxiety.