by Ivy Nelson
Rash decisions weren’t something she did, though, so here they were three months later, barely having shared more than a dozen kisses.
His hand skimmed the skirt of her dress and slowly inched it up until he had the hem in his hand and raised it to her thigh. Was he about to make love to her? She whimpered as he raised the dress higher. When it got high enough that they had to separate, he gave her a gentle nudge backwards and she willingly lifted her arms so he could pull the dress from her body.
She stood before him in a black bra and panty set, and a pair of low heels.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured.
Feeling brave, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, dragging the straps to her elbows as she separated the two ends.
Before she lost her nerve, she dropped the bra to the floor and hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties.
“Stop.”
She froze at the sound of his clipped command.
He stepped the short distance between them and knelt in front of her. He pressed a kiss to her abdomen just above her panty line before he did what she’d started to do and slowly peeled her panties away.
“Christ, Isabelle. You’re perfect.”
When her panties pooled at her ankles, she stepped out of them and waited for his next move.
His lips hovered above her pubic bone before he pressed a kiss there and stood.
“Your clothes stay off in this room,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
She nodded her agreement and his hand reached around and landed on her bottom with a sharp sting. “Answer me properly, young lady.”
She gulped. ‘Yes, Sir. It’s hard to think around you like this.”
He chuckled. “By the end of this weekend, you’re going to have received many lessons in how to keep your focus on being a good little submissive even when I’m driving you crazy, is that clear?”
She nodded again and managed to whisper, “Yes, Sir,” before he could scold her again.
“Kneel on the floor,” he said, pointing to the rug.
She stepped sideways until she was on the rug and dropped to her knees.
“Let’s talk about a few more positions you need to learn.”
He walked behind her and gave her hair a gentle tug until she held her head high.
“You don’t lower your head unless I tell you to. You’re my submissive and I want you to be proud of that. When you kneel, you do so with pride. Head up high, shoulders back, thighs spread nice and wide.”
It was a position Isabelle was familiar with from her other forays into submission, though her Master and Mistress from that relationship had insisted she avoid eye contact at all times.
She shoved thoughts of them from her mind. It wasn’t an awful memory, she just wanted to keep her focus on the incredibly sexy Dom standing over her now.
“This is your default kneeling position. If I tell you to kneel, this is what I expect, whether you are naked or clothed.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured as she adjusted her shoulders, so they were straighter.
“Very good.” He circled her, as if she were a car he was about to buy.
“Next position is called presentation. What do you think that’s for?”
She swallowed, feeling nervous. “I… I would imagine it’s a way for me to present my body for your enjoyment, Sir.”
He glanced down at her and winked. “Very good. Specifically, to enjoy your various entrances or to have better access to a naughty bottom that needs punishing. If I tell you to present, you’ll kneel where I tell you to with your head pressed to the floor and turned to the right so your cheek is resting on the ground or whatever surface I’ve put you on. Your ass will be nice and high with your legs spread wide. If you’re clothed, likely in a skirt and panties as I prefer you to wear, you’ll remove your panties and raise your skirt above your waist if I tell you to present.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said when he paused.
“Very good. Show me you understand. Present yourself to me on the bed.”
She rose as gracefully as she could and climbed onto the mattress. She felt her core temperature rise, and her pussy clenched as she lifted her hips so her ass pointed as high as she could get it. Her face felt so hot as she rested it against the cool comforter, she feared she might light it on fire.
The noises he made when he moved about the room sounded louder than they probably were. The pad of his shoes as he walked, the distinct sound of a zipper while he rummaged through a bag. Then she felt him step behind her where all her bits were on display. She jumped when something soft caressed her inner thighs. After a moment, she recognized it to be a riding crop. Without warning, he cracked the crop down on her right inner thigh and she yelped.
“Wider, sub. When told to present, it’s your job to make sure your pussy and ass are as visible as possible.”
She whimpered as the crop caressed the spot it had just struck. Shifting, she spread her legs as wide as she could manage.
“Much better,” he purred as he let the crop hover between her legs just below her pussy.
Slowly, he dragged it across her folds, and she groaned.
“Oh dear,” he murmured when he pulled the leather away. “You’ve gotten my crop all wet.”
Her blush moved into her neck and shoulders now as he rested a hand on her bottom. “Do you like having your entire being on display for me, Isabelle?”
Her name on his lips sent a shudder down her spine as she whispered her affirmation. “Yes, Sir.”
“Very good. I’m torn right now, Doll. I want to fuck you hard, but I don’t want to be too rough our first time together. How would you like me to fuck your sweet pussy?”
Her response was a garbled moan of pleasure at the thought of his cock slamming into her.
He chuckled. “That’s not exactly an answer, sub.”
“Fuck me however you like, Sir. I just want to feel you,” she managed to say between heavy breaths.
The faint whisper of his pants being unzipped was his response.
When he was on the bed behind her, he tore a condom open, and Isabelle tried to imagine it rolling down his shaft. She was mildly disappointed that she couldn’t catch a glimpse of his erection, but she knew there would be plenty of time for that later.
He pressed against her opening, and she braced herself for his entry. It had been over three years since she’d had sex. A grunt escaped him as he pushed between her folds.
She cried out as he slowly slid himself deeper.
“Christ, you feel good,” he murmured. “I’ve been dying to be inside your tight little cunt since you first walked into Solitaire.”
Her entire body tingled as he eased out of her again. After a few languid thrusts of his hips, he settled deep inside her and leaned so his chest pressed against her back. A thin sheen of sweat already coated their bodies. It was as if they were melting together. With one hand on her hip, he gathered her hair in his other and tugged, pulling her up so she was on all fours and staring at the headboard.
Using her hair for leverage, he moved faster, withdrawing almost completely, then slamming into her. The sound of their skin slapping together seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet room.
She cried out as her body told her an orgasm was close. Her nipples tightened, her toes curled, and she felt as if her clit were about to explode.
“Come for me,” he bit out as his thick erection hammered her pussy. His command sent her over the cliff, and she uttered a cry of passion as a torrent of bliss came crashing down.
He wasn’t far behind, and she felt him tense as his muscled thighs trembled between hers while he lost himself. His pleasured groan as he slowly loosened his grip on her hair sent waves of warmth and pride through her. She’d done this to him, and it put a smile on her lips, despite exhaustion threatening to make her collapse into the mattress.
He eased out of her and pressed a kiss to her back.
“I hope you’re on birth control. If
not, you need to be. And we’re both getting a full panel of STD tests, because I want to see myself dripping out of your slick cunt after I fuck you.”
Her face warmed as his words sent a little thrill through her system. She’d been on birth control since she was a teenager to regulate her hormones, so that wasn’t a problem and neither were STDs, but she appreciated his effort to be safe.
“You’re very forward,” she said after processing his words.
He chuckled. “I’ve never seen a reason to be subtle about the things I want from my submissives, and I want your pussy wrapped around my bare cock.”
She shuddered as a draft coursed over her skin.
“Cold?”
She gave a nod. “Yes, Sir. Just a little.”
“Go take a nice warm shower before you get dressed. I have some work I need to get done.”
And just like that, their intimate moment was over.
As she showered, she replayed their lovemaking in her head and felt another rush of need gather at her center. Without thinking about it, she slid a hand between her thighs and rubbed at her clit.
Frame by frame, the way Garrett fucked her rolled through her mind, and she massaged faster until she was moaning, leaned against the shower wall. The orgasm shook Isabelle, but she kept herself upright as the waves of pleasure pulsated, warming her more than the shower already had.
Her eyes fluttered open and a scream bubbled in her throat as her heartbeat went into overdrive. Garrett leaned against the counter, quietly observing her.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, one eyebrow quirked up.
Isabelle couldn’t tell if she was in trouble or not. She dropped her gaze and gave him a subtle nod. “Yes, Sir.”
He chuckled and opened the shower door to turn the water off.
“Come here,” he said, lifting a towel off a nearby rack.
She hesitantly stepped out of the spacious shower and let him wrap her in the fluffy cotton. “Need one for your hair?” he asked. She nodded and he handed her a second one, stepping back to let her bend her head and wrap her damp hair in it
After a long beat, she finally worked up the nerve to speak. “Am I in trouble?” She bit her lip, waiting for his answer.
He tilted her chin upward, so she was looking at him. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just searched her face.
Finally, he dropped a kiss to her nose and said, “No. I rather enjoyed your little show. I’ll have to make you repeat it for me sometime.”
She blew out a relieved breath, unsure if her emotions could handle another punishment.
Together, they got ready for the party downstairs and walked hand in hand to the bar.
Chapter Ten
Sunday morning, Garrett sat in the armchair of his Solitaire suite watching Isabelle sleep. He’d kept her up late last night playing in one of the dungeon alcoves and had continued his exploration of her body after they’d shut the club down for the night.
He’d been up for a couple of hours and was reading on his tablet. He hated to end their weekend together, knowing danger awaited them in the real world, but a glance at the clock in the corner of his screen told him it was probably time to wake her up if he were going to take her shopping before she needed to be back home.
Closing his tablet, he set it on the end table and moved to sit on the edge of the bed where he gave her a gentle nudge.
“What time is it?” she asked as she bolted upright. “Are you late for school? Did you get breakfast?”
Garrett frowned. Poor girl thought she was at home.
“Shhh. We’re still at Solitaire, Doll. It’s almost nine in the morning.”
She rubbed at her eyes and shook her head. “Shit. Sorry. I was having dreams about the girls. They’re usually the only ones who wake me up, and that’s only if I’ve overslept.”
He let the back of his hand trail down her cheek. “You work so hard. I’m taking you shopping today.”
She swung her legs off the bed so she was sitting next to him. “Why would you do that?”
He laughed. “Monday is a black-tie event with a red carpet to walk. I want to get you a dress.”
She scowled. “I’m sure I can come up with something from my closet.”
How did he explain this to her? “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want you to feel out of place. Most of the women have personal stylists dressing them.”
“So why are you taking me if you don’t think I can handle dressing for it?”
He sighed. This was not going well. “That’s not what I meant, Isabelle, and watch your tone. We’re still at Solitaire. I want to buy you a dress. Let me. You always dress wonderfully, but this is on a completely different level. As for why I’m taking you, I want the pleasure of your company outside of Solitaire and I don’t have a lot of free time. Not to mention, I need a date. When I show up solo at these things, the women are like vultures.”
She giggled. “So, I’m your security?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Again, not what I meant, brat. I’m just not handling this very well, am I? I want to spoil you a bit and take you to a party.”
She gave a slow nod. “OK. I like the sound of that.”
“Well, up with you then. We don’t have much time to get on the road. What time do you need to be back home?”
She leaned over to the nightstand and picked up her phone. “Girls will be home at four, but Uncle Henry will be home. So long as I’m there by six so I can make sure homework was done that will be fine.”
Garrett nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to go downstairs and do a walk of the property with Patrick. Get dressed and meet me down there in half an hour.”
She nodded and he narrowed his eyes at her.
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, earning a wink of approval. The blush that colored her cheeks made him want to push her back down on the bed, but he knew they needed to get going.
“Half an hour,” he reminded her as he stood and moved to the door.
Downstairs, Patrick was on the sofa in the lobby with Austin snuggled next to him.
“Good morning,” he greeted. “How’s it looking this morning?”
Patrick looked down at his wife and smiled. “I would say my view is pretty damn incredible.”
Austin blushed and sat up straight. “Where’s Isabelle this morning, Master Garrett?”
Garrett smiled. “She’s getting showered and dressed. Ready to check the property, Patrick?”
Patrick stood. “You coming?” he asked Austin.
“No, Sir. I’ll stay here and wait for Isabelle.”
Garrett and Patrick started with the bar and dungeon, checking to make sure everything was secure. When they finished with the interior, they went outside and climbed into a golf cart.
“We only had one cabin rented this weekend and they already left, so this should be quick,” Patrick said as he drove them down the path to the cabins at the back of the property.
“How’s life in New York?” Garrett asked, making small talk.
Patrick grinned. “The married life is pretty great, and I’m enjoying running the New York branch of Eastman Enterprises. The part where I suddenly became the poster boy for feminism because I took my wife’s last name is getting kind of old, though. It feels like I’ve done every daytime talk show on the planet.”
Garrett laughed. “Regina watches those from her desk at work. I’ve seen your face a few times.”
Patrick rolled his eyes as they approached the first cabin. Hopping out, he checked the locks and made sure everything was secure. A cleaning crew would come in on Monday and get the place ready for next weekend.
After securing the cabin, they made a lap around the ones that had been unoccupied for the weekend.
Is that a glass on the porch?” Garrett asked as they passed the last one in the row.
Patrick stopped the cart and hopped out. Sure enough, it looked like a rocks glass from the bar. “Maybe someone wandered out here an
d sat on the porch for a drink. If so, that means our door staff aren’t watching people close enough when they go in and out.” He tucked the glass into the golf cart cupholder, and Garrett typed a note into his phone to bring it up at the next board meeting.
Back in the main building, Isabelle was talking to Austin. She gave Garrett a shy smile when her eyes met his.
“We should get going,” he said as he headed for the stairs.
“I brought the bags down,” she said, stopping him. Garrett scowled. He could have done that. He strode to the couch and slung the bags onto his shoulder before holding his hand out to her.
“Bye, you two. Come to New York and see our new place sometime,” Austin said.
Isabelle snorted. “I might be able to afford a New York trip if I save for a year, but I would love to see pictures.”
Garrett would gladly take her to New York, but after the fight over whether he could buy her a dress, he decided not to say as much.
In the SUV (which had been replaced after the hit and run), he slid an arm around her and smiled. “I’ve enjoyed our weekend, Isabelle.”
She lowered her gaze as crimson colored her cheeks. “Me too, Sir. I’m worried work will be weird next week, though.”
“We’re both capable of being professional,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Plus, we have tomorrow evening to look forward to.”
The trip into the city was short and Isabelle spent it with her head resting against Garrett’s shoulder. When they arrived at a small boutique, a designer was waiting for them.
“Garrett Oliver, it’s lovely to see you again,” the woman said, kissing both his cheeks. “I spoke to Governor Andrew’s wife about your diamonds and we’re going to work them into her next design for the inaugural ball.”
Garrett smiled. “Thank you, Jasmine. It’s a tremendous help.”
“Enough about things that don’t matter, what are we going to put this gorgeous girl in?” Jasmine asked, grasping both of Isabelle’s hands.
“Turn, turn,” the eccentric designer said, shoving Isabelle away from her.
