That wasn’t what he gave me, however. His hand held the dildo in place, while his other hand came down flat on my ass. I moaned around the ball in my mouth and felt my eyes roll back in my head. He was going to make me work for it then.
I lost control of myself and moved against my bonds. I pulled at the cuffs and tried to talk around the ball but couldn’t. Another slap jolted me back to my senses, and I knew my protests would only earn me more. Was that a bad thing?
I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t speak; all I could do was feel and smell. I would catch the faint hint of Dylan’s cologne, the smell of the wood and leather in the room, but little more. I couldn’t smell his skin or touch it with my mouth to taste it. I could only hang there and wait for his art.
His hand came down on the small of my back, but not as a strike. Softly, he splayed his hand on my skin and soothed me. I stopped my protests, and the momentary bad behavior calmed. I guessed he decided to give me a reward because something changed. A buzz began in my nether regions, and I knew it had to be the dildo.
He’d turned something on, and a warmth began to join with the buzz. A muffled moan came out of my throat, and my hips tensed. His fingers, still on my back, stroked me to keep me calm. I felt some movement between my thighs, and my head came up when his lips touched me. I knew it was his lips because I felt the moist stroke of his tongue on my clit.
My fingers clenched in the cuffs, and I made some kind of sound, but it wasn’t protest; it was pleasure that drove me to react. A good sub would stay still, remain quiet, but I couldn’t be that good sub. I could only do what Dylan drove me to. I was still me, for now.
His tongue tickled at the throbbing organ, eased the ache, but made it worse at the same time. It combined with the buzzing warmth inside of me, and I almost lost my mind. I went to somewhere only Dylan could take me—a place of darkness, where I didn’t exist, where there was only good.
Until he pulled away, removed the dildo, and slapped my pussy harshly. I’d almost been there, fully in the arms of heaven, but he’d pulled me away. Just one more lick, one more buzz would have sent me there directly, but he’d taken it all away.
I stayed completely still. I didn’t move, didn’t protest. Not even when he moved the barrel so that I could stand. He removed the cuffs and pulled me up. I inhaled deeply through my nose, and when I could stand properly, Dylan led me to the wall. He wasn’t finished then.
My hands went up over my head, and I knew this would be the worst part of it, but ultimately the best. He was enamored with my breasts, and he loved the way I reacted to his touch. My nipples were super sensitive, and it excited him to know he could make me come with nothing more than a suck of each nipple.
I felt him pinch the right one before his lips closed over the bud. Heated wetness closed around it and became my world for a second. His tongue flicked at me, sucked at me, licked me, before he pulled away, and cold air puckered the already tight flesh. Something clamped down around it, something tight, that sucked at the aching flesh. Suckers, fuck, he’d put suckers on me.
Then he did the same to the other one, and I wanted to sink to my knees. I wanted to suck his dick. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to ride him with wild abandon until I’d come so hard, I passed out. Thoughts, memories, fantasies flooded into my brain, and then, he placed one of the evil little fuckers on my clit.
Hot, white heat flooded into my brain, and my overstimulated nipples felt as if they might burst. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough. Dylan knew that. He knew exactly what he could do to me, and he gave me everything I needed when he lifted me against the wall and fucked into me.
Hard, fast, with no real care about whether I came or not, Dylan was out of control by the time he fucked me. I screamed around the ball in my mouth, my hands still cuffed to the wall, but it was because I had started to come the second he thrust into me. His fingers dug into my ass as he held me up, but it was more pain, more pleasure, and I took everything he gave me, as I gave him everything I was. Every single part of me now belonged to Dylan. Even my name. Emily.
Emily
A half hour later and I was in his arms, in a hot tub of water that eased the ache from my muscles. He held me to him, our damp bodies cradled together. I leaned my head back against him and sighed, happily.
I thought I’d lost him, that I’d lost that one bit of happiness I’d had in my life. I’d found that happiness for myself. I’d grabbed it and held onto it tightly, but I’d made a mistake. I hadn’t told him the truth about who I was. That had almost cost me everything.
“No more secrets, Dylan. I promise you that.” I spoke the first words I’d said since he’d asked me if I was ready to go to his playroom.
When he let me down from the wall, I’d been too drained to speak and had shaken my head positively when he’d asked if I was alright. I’d found the ability, and the strength, to speak again, and used it now to make a pledge to him. I’d never lie or mislead him ever again.
“You did it to protect yourself, and me, I suppose, Emily. You didn’t do it to be malicious.” I could feel his voice rumble in his chest and turned my head to listen to the sound better.
“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you or spy on you. I just wanted to be with you.” I sank a little lower in the water and let my ear rest against his chest. I turned around and looked up at him. “That’s why I signed the contract.”
“Have you actually read it?” He looked a little uncomfortable, but it had to be asked.
“I haven’t, not completely.” I looked away, uncertain. “I just wanted to sign it so you’d know that I was committed to this.”
“The thing is, that wasn’t just a contract for a lover, Emily. I want you here with me. To travel with me, to go out places without a blindfold, and to explore the world with me.”
“For however long you choose to keep me?” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice, but I did manage to maintain eye contact as I twisted to look at him better.
“That’s just it, Emily.” He sighed and looked away, before he reached down and pulled my face up to his. “I can’t even think about spending a day without you. It hurts too much.”
“I, well…” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I kissed him.
Dylan James had just admitted that he didn’t want to be without me. That was pretty momentous. The man who wasn’t boyfriend material, who didn’t want a relationship, he just wanted a fuck buddy before he moved on, had finally met a woman he didn’t want to move along from.
Wow.
“Six months. It’s a promise of six months,” Dylan said, a light of laughter in those eyes. “It’s a promise that I will do all that I can to make you want to keep me around for longer than six months.”
“Oh, you think you can keep me interested, do you?” I asked in a voice that teased while my fingers danced up his chest to cup his cheek. “I’m pretty sure you can, but maybe you need to convince me?”
“I think the way you screamed around that ball gag earlier is all you need to remember, young lady. You came so hard I thought you might have bitten right through that thing.” His eyes went a little darker, and his voice dropped to a huskier level as he spoke, and I had to admit, my body responded to his words.
There was no doubt in my mind I wanted to have a relationship with the man. I wanted all he would give me, and now that we had the problem of who I was out of the way, we could get on with it.
“It won’t be easy, you know. I have a hard time with things like that.” He took a deep breath and for a minute, I thought he’d get up and leave the tub. He managed to stay, though, but he changed the mood and insisted on washing my hair.
He scrubbed my hair and took delight in making it spiky and twisting it around with all the bubbles, but eventually he knew I was getting cold, and we used the removable shower head to rinse my hair. We both cleaned up and wrapped ourselves in the bath sheets he had in place of towels.
They were a luxury I’d used before,
but knowing he’d bought them with me in mind made it special. They were a light pink color and so thick and long we could have used them for blankets. I had a smaller towel wrapped around my hair, and we went into the bedroom. Dylan turned on the television, and we found a movie to watch.
He was asleep before it finished, so I turned the movie off and went into the kitchen to find something to nibble on. I reheated some of the paella and read over the contract as I ate the dish with some French bread. He was right, the document was a promise, more than a contract.
He’d kept most of our rules in place, and there were provisions for if we wanted to change the dynamics of our play or our relationship, but for the most part, this was Dylan’s solemn promise to see where this was headed. In six months, we’d go over it all again and decide if we wanted to continue.
There was no real mention of love, or devotion, but it was there. The simple fact that he wanted a relationship out of this, and not just a contract for sex, meant that he had far more in his heart for me than lust.
He just didn’t know how to admit it. I couldn’t blame him. The first woman that told him she loved him, tried to kill him. The woman who gave him life had killed his father in the process of trying to kill them all. That thought kind of soured my stomach, so I went into the living room. I stared out at the city in the distance.
She must have had some subconscious hope that Dylan would survive. That was why she’d told him she loved him, before she’d left. She’d outright murdered his father, but she’d only planned to burn her son to death. Had she hoped he’d escape the flames, and that was why she hadn’t shot him as she did his father? I chewed at my lip as I thought about it.
What kind of madness had driven her to such an act? Not that any of it would ever make sense, but I had to wonder about it. I could imagine my mother agreeing to let one of her children be shunned, she’d done it, but would she ever try to kill me to prove her love for a man?
I couldn’t imagine any of my sisters-in-law doing the same thing to their children. They all seemed like the kind of bear mommas who wouldn’t let anyone hurt their children, for anything, no matter how old they would grow to be.
It hurt me to think of a much smaller Dylan, with innocence still on his face, lying there as his mother poured gasoline on the floor. He’d smelled the strong odor of the fluid and had fled out of his bedroom window.
Tears stung my eyes, and I had to put a hand over my mouth to hold back a sob for that tiny little face. How he must have looked standing there watching as his house burn. I didn’t know if that had actually happened, but my brain conjured the image up, and my heart broke for that small little child.
Had he cried, screamed for his parents, or had he stood there coldly, without an emotion, in shock perhaps? I doubled over from the pain it caused me, and I felt Dylan come up behind me.
“Emily. What’s wrong, darling?” He pulled me into his arms and sank down to the floor with me.
“How could you stand it, Dylan? My God, you poor man.” I clung to him, babbling like an idiot, but he patiently soothed me and let me cry in his arms.
“I endured it the same way you’re enduring your own family’s rejection, Emily. I held my head up and carried on. It was all I could do.” His voice was strained, but he didn’t cry. I suspected he hadn’t cried tears in a long time. He must have cried himself out centuries ago.
Then there was my own pain, my own rejection. We had something in common then, kind of. My family had shunned me. It hurt, it really hurt, but I had him, and that made it bearable. Almost.
Dylan curled around me and shushed me, kissed me, and then he picked me up to carry me to bed. He pulled me into his front, both of us on our sides, before he pulled the duvet over us.
“Emily, you’re a strong woman. I’ve learned that about you. It’s one of the things that draws me to you. Even when you submit yourself, you still have a strength that cannot be broken. At least, not by me. Maybe because I don’t want to break it, I don’t know, but you are strong, darling. Somehow, we’ll make this right. I promise you that.”
I wasn’t quite sure how he thought we’d make my family accept my choices, or take me back into the fold, and to be perfectly frank, right now, I wasn’t sure I was ready to forgive the callous coldness of the way they’d disowned me. I had tried to shield myself from the emotions that swirled like a hurricane around those thoughts. I’d been focused on Dylan, and that had made it all worth it.
Now that we were settled into some kind of truce, I had time to think about it all. It wasn’t an easy thing to swallow, that my choice had led to their decisions, but if it meant I was with Dylan, then I could deal with it.
That didn’t make the heartache of it go away. I’d probably have days where it still weighed on me, but I knew I could cope with him by my side.
I turned and touched his face, two pairs of gray eyes stared at each other in the near darkness. I could see the shine of his eyes, though, and knew he was looking at me.
“You are all I have now, Dylan.” It was an admission I’d never really wanted to make, but it was true. We’d promised not to hide anything anymore, so I thought that meant our emotions were included in that promise. “You are really my world now.”
“Then I’d better make it worth the price you paid, hadn’t I?” His voice was level but held a certain amount of conviction.
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel beholden to me, or like you owed me something. You don’t. I just want you to know that you are all I have.” I turned away, a little embarrassed now. “Fuck, that sounds clingy and so damn sad.”
“No, it just sounds like raw emotion, Emily.” He pulled me back to face him. “You aren’t a robot, Emily, and I don’t want you to run around with some kind of cold, little heart that I can’t crawl my way into. I want you to be real with me. To tell me how you feel, what you think, what makes you happy, what makes you sad. I want to know it all, Emily. I want to know you. If you hide these parts of you, I’ll only know what you want me to see.”
I still felt like I was on a pity party, but he kissed me and made it all better. His kiss was gentle at first, and I relished the sensation of his soft lips against mine. His kisses always felt so good.
I kissed him back, and soon the gentleness became insistent, and his lips opened above mine. Passion flared in an instant, and the need to have him drive me to that place only he could take me to took over. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he pulled me over him. I settled onto him and pressed my sex down into his hard length. He was ready for me in an instant.
There was nothing that could stop this passion, nothing that could keep us apart. There was always that one final part of our lives that could separate us, but right now, I had a feeling that death would be the only thing that could ever make this all end. I would fight even that to keep this.
Dylan
One Month Later
The sound of the plane’s engines nearly deafened me as the wheels met the tarmac, and we were suddenly on the ground again. I breathed a deep sigh of relief once the bounces had stopped, and the plane pulled into a terminal. It had been thirty days since I last saw Emily, and it was thirty days too long.
I stepped off the plane and headed straight for the car already waiting for me. A short drive to the penthouse and I’d have her in my arms. A call came in, and I punched a button on the console full of tabs and buttons, so many I hadn’t figured them all out yet.
“Hello? That you, Mom?” I asked, I’d seen the number and knew it was likely my adoptive mother.
“No, it’s your father. Did you make it back to that woman of yours yet?” My dad’s voice, jovial if a little frailer than it used to be, filled the car, and I laughed.
“I have only just landed, Dad, trying to merge into traffic so I can get back to her right now.”
“That’s good then, son. We only wanted to make sure you made it back. Sorry we kept you so long.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Dad. You
needed me.” Dad had come from his trip to the hospital after a bout of pneumonia and was driving my mother crazy. I’d gone out to give her a hand until he got better.
To see my own doctor. He’d run some tests, and tweaked my medicine, and he was certain he’d have me back on track in no time now. I’d managed to kill two birds with one stone. Three if you counted my trips to our hotels on the west coast while I was out there.
“I’m glad you’re keeping up with the business. I wasn’t sure you’d want to take over for me, but you’re doing a fine job, Dylan.” I could hear the pride in his voice, and that made me smile.
I merged into traffic at last and headed in the direction of home. “I had a good teacher, Dad. Listen, I’ll give you a call tomorrow, alright? I’m in a hurry to get home to Emily and to see how she is. I haven’t told her I’m back yet, so it’ll be a surprise.”
“Oh now, son. That’s not always a good idea, you know. Women, they like to dress up for a man, and if you catch her at home with her hair up in pigtails and no makeup on, well, she might be a little upset that you didn’t give her the chance.” Dad laughed, and I had to join him. That was a good piece of advice.
“You always were a smart man, Dad. I don’t care what she looks like when I get there, as long as she’s there.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Dad laughed again, only this time there was a slight wheeze at the end. He was getting better but slower than I’d like. I worried about him often, but he insisted he was fine.
He was the man who had saved me from the foster care system, a system that might have destroyed me after what had happened to me as a child. He and his wife had taken me, and they’d treated me as one of their own, though, they had none of their own. It had been a life-raft for me, and I paid it back every day by being the son they deserved. I hoped I did anyway.
Dad let me get off the phone, at last, and I felt more comfortable. Even hands free, I believed that phone calls of any kind took your mind off the road, and I hated to do it. I had a lot to get home to, a surprise in store for my lady love. Two actually.
Dark Time Page 3
