4
Drew woke around six and was surprised to find himself wrapped around Scarlett. It was an intimacy he hadn’t experienced since his divorce four years ago. Waking up in bed with his wife and spending mornings with her had been one of the happier parts of his marriage. Until the day he’d come home early from a business trip to find her in that same bed with another man. She’d blamed it on him, of course. Saying he’d betrayed her first when she realized his business was like a mistress and would always come first. Perhaps she’d been right. Owning and running a billion-dollar hotel chain required much of his time, but she’d known that when she’d married him. He had always invited her to attend all of his business trips with him, but after only a few trips, she’d begun refusing, claiming she had her own schedule to keep.
After the divorce, he’d been introduced to the club by a friend. He’d become instantly intrigued and found that the club allowed him to maintain a level of control over relationships that real life didn’t allow. He wouldn’t or couldn’t even claim to be a full-time dominant. He enjoyed the control and light punishment his role encompassed, but it was something he only maintained in the bedroom—and as a convenience to help maintain order in his world. He had no time to deal with the complications that came with feelings or commitment. Or at least, that’s what he had thought before he’d laid eyes on Scarlett last night.
He disentangled himself as gently as he could from her and sat up on the edge of the bed. He looked over his shoulder at her sleeping form and wondered again what the fuck she was doing to him. Her hands were resting together in prayer formation against her face, her thick eyelashes brushing against her cheekbones, her full lips parted slightly as she breathed. It was very tempting to climb back in that bed and wake her in a way he was sure would be satisfying to both of them, but he needed a little space.
He rose and quietly walked to the walk-in master closet that housed his clothes. He dressed quickly, pulling on his jogging clothes before exiting the house, grabbing his iPod on the way. It was still dark out, so he stood on the porch for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light.
September had arrived, but the early morning air was chillier than he had anticipated. He contemplated going back inside to grab a sweatshirt but didn’t want to risk waking Scarlett. He would warm up once he started running. He popped his ear buds in and selected his favorite playlist for a run: Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet. His older brother had given him the CD when he was younger, proclaiming it was the best album ever written. Drew didn’t know if he would go that far, but it was a classic, and the familiar songs always relaxed him while running. The songs also had some great memories associated with them, so it remained a permanent fixture on his iPod.
His eyes adjusted to the light as he followed the sidewalk out to the road. He started jogging at a slow pace until his muscles warmed up and then worked his way up to a steady gait through the first song on the album, “Let it Rock.”
Each breath he took left his body in a puff of white fog, and he could feel the echo of each foot hitting the pavement. By the third song on the album, “Livin’ on a Prayer,” he had reached his stride, and his muscles stretched a bit as he increased to a run. He tried to run five or six miles every morning. Not only for the health benefits, but to keep his head clear. This morning though, he had only one thought on his mind, and that was Scarlett.
His mind raced, trying to determine how to handle her when he returned to the bungalow. Maybe it would be best to become truly dominant for the rest of the weekend and dispense with any of the casual pleasantries they had so thoroughly enjoyed last night. It would eliminate any of the personal details and emotions she seemed to be invoking within him thus far. He still had to decide whether or not he wanted her to accompany him to the fundraiser he was scheduled to attend that evening. Normally he wouldn’t leave the club during a weekend stay, but it was for his brother’s organization, and he’d promised Benny he would be there.
Drew was running at a hard pace now, covering almost a mile every seven minutes or so. He’d lost track of how long he’d been running and was surprised to look at his watch and discover he’d been at it almost an hour. He slowed down to a light jog and cut across the woods to bring him closer to the bungalow without having to backtrack.
It was lighter now that the sun had risen and the temperature had warmed, so the shade from the trees was welcome. When he came out of the other side of the woods, he realized he was only about a mile from the bungalow and decided to walk the rest of the way to cool his muscles down.
Inside the bungalow, all the lights were still off and the house was silent. Scarlett must still be sleeping. He walked into the second bedroom and into its accompanying bathroom and stripped out of his workout clothes. He turned on the shower and stepped in to wash off the sweat from his run. As the water ran over him, rinsing him clean, he was reminded of the shower he and Scarlett had taken the night before. He recalled how good she’d felt wrapped around his body, him buried deep inside her as she moaned his name. The memory stirred his blood and hardened his cock. He shut the water off, stepped out of the stall and grabbed a towel off the rack. He quickly dried himself off and, staying naked, walked into the master bedroom, where Scarlett was still sleeping. Here, now, he needed to treat Scarlett as his submissive if he had any hope of walking away from her at the end of this weekend.
He stood beside the bed, naked, his cock growing harder at the sight of her, and jostled the bed with his knee. “Scarlett, wake up.”
Hannah felt the bed shake and rolled over, slowly opening her eyes. She blinked a few times, trying to wake herself up. She rose up on her elbows to find Drew standing over her, naked.
Before she even had time to form a thought, he spoke roughly to her. “Get on your hands and knees, facing me.”
She paused, momentarily shocked by his tone and request.
He lunged forward, grabbing a handful of her hair painfully as he bent toward her and seethed into her ear, “What did I tell you about repeating myself?”
As he let go and straightened to his full height, she quickly scooted onto her hands and knees and faced him. He was tall, so his cock, hard and jutting, was right in her face. She looked up at him, unsure of what he wanted her to do next.
“Open your mouth.”
Now she knew. But still she hesitated. Before she could react, a hard smack rained down on her ass. She instinctively lowered her ass away from his smack while looking sheepishly up at him.
“I told you I would punish you if you hesitated again.” He stared down, his eyes hard and dilated with lust. “Open your mouth. Now.”
This time, she didn’t hesitate. Her mouth opened instantly. In the same instant, Drew took a step forward and, gripping his cock, led it to her mouth. She closed her lips around it, raising her hands up off the bed to grasp him.
“No,” he commanded. “Hands on the bed.”
Hands midway to his shaft, she froze. He, however, didn’t hesitate and smacked her ass again, not once but three times, and they weren’t gentle. The quick gasp she took in surprise sucked his cock deeper into her mouth, and he hissed in response. She returned her hands to the bed, her eyes still raised in question.
“I am going to fuck your mouth now, Scarlett. And since I can’t have the pleasure of coming in your mouth, when I’m ready, I’m going to fuck your beautiful pussy.”
He took a fistful of her hair in one hand and, pulling it, used it to guide her mouth back and forth over his cock in a slow, agonizing rhythm.
She should feel humiliated by this, but instead, adrenaline coursed through her body, going straight to her core, which quickly dampened from the excitement. She wrapped her mouth tighter around Drew’s cock as he slowly entered her mouth. She sucked on him hard, bringing him deep into her mouth, and then pressed her tongue against the bottom of his hardened ridge. When he pulled almost entirely out of her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the tip and then sucked again, bringing him back
deep inside. His head was thrown back, his mouth open in an O as he let out a low, guttural moan.
His grip on her hair tightened with each thrust as he began pushing his cock in harder and faster. Just as her mouth started to ache and she worried he might come, he pulled away and used the grip on her hair to yank her head all the way back, forcing her to look up at him.
“Now, turn around, Scarlett. I want your elbows on the mattress and your ass in the air.”
When he released her hair, she instantly turned, fell onto her elbows and thrust her ass up. His finger grazed her wet pussy, and she jerked in response.
“Look how wet you are.” He hummed appreciatively as he ran his finger up and down her pussy. “You like sucking my cock?”
“Yes.” Hannah flinched as she felt a hard smack on her ass. Shit! That hurt. She had to remember to answer immediately.
“Yes? Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir. Yes, I like sucking your cock, Sir.” She spoke quickly, but softly.
He rubbed her ass where he had smacked it, just beyond where the ache in her pussy was now throbbing with need.
“Good girl. I liked you sucking my cock. Next time maybe you’ll reconsider taking everything my cock has to offer.”
She wasn’t sure what to say, but she didn’t want to get spanked again. To be safe, she responded, “Yes, Sir.”
“Now I’m going to fuck you.” Drew began stroking her pussy again with his finger, running it up and down her clit, spreading her juices, staying a breath away from her sensitive nub. “And you will not come.”
At that statement, Drew brought his cock to her entrance and drove into her in one thrust, her body jerking forward. And he kept thrusting into her. She had to push herself down harder into the bed on her elbows and shove her ass back to keep up with the punishing movements. His cock, rock hard, was hitting her in just the right place every time he pushed into her and she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to hold back from having an orgasm. As if he could read her mind, Drew grabbed a fistful of her hair and, dragging her head back so she could see his face, said through gritted teeth, “Do not come.”
“Yes, S-sir,” she stammered.
Drew released her hair, grabbed her hips roughly with both hands and slammed into her even harder. She moaned in pleasure, in frustration, in fear, before he thrust one final time, grunting loudly as he came. She could feel his release explode inside her and she had to bite down on her lip, hard, and concentrate with every ounce of her being to keep her orgasm at bay.
Drew’s harsh breathing decreased as he softened inside her. As he slid out of her, he released the firm hold he’d had on her hips and then took a step away. His seed slid out of her and down the inside of her leg. She didn’t dare move an inch without his consent for fear of another spanking.
“You can relax.” Drew spoke quietly, but authoritatively from behind her.
She responded immediately with a quiet, “Yes, Sir,” and then rolled onto her side, pulling the covers up over her body. Drew stood looking down at her for several moments before shaking his head and walking away.
“Scarlett, please shower and dress. When you’re done, meet me in the kitchen. I’d like breakfast.” As he reached the doorway, he turned back with one final command. “Do not touch yourself or offer yourself any relief.”
She lay in the bed for just a moment after he left and then quickly got up. She was a mix of emotions. Frustration being at the top of the list. The throbbing at her core needed attention, and knowing she couldn’t provide it—and not knowing when she would actually get some relief—did nothing but inflame her. She knew she had no right to be angry. This is what Drew had paid for. She was his to do with as he pleased.
She turned the shower on, keeping the water more cold than hot in an attempt to quench some of the heat coursing through her. She stepped in and let the water run over her body before pulling her hands through her long hair, getting it wet enough to wash. As she shampooed and conditioned her hair, her thoughts went back to Drew’s behavior from last night and how it contrasted with his behavior this morning. Perhaps he’d wanted to ease her nerves last night, but today, it was game on? Last night seemed to be more than that, but how would she know? This was her first time, and one of the most important things Domme Maria had instilled in all the trainees was to keep their emotions in check. This was a job and nothing more and she needed to remember that. No matter how well Drew could fuck.
She finished her shower quickly, stepped out of the stall and dried off. She found some lotions in the vanity and, picking one blindly, applied it liberally to her body, spending a little extra time on her smarting bottom. She stepped into the bedroom and opened the drawers, viewing the many lingerie sets, trying to determine which one Drew would like. Since she was going to be cooking, practical would be smart. Boyshorts were a more appropriate choice, than say, a thong. She slipped on a beautifully colored lilac set that would be perfect.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hair. Blow-drying it would take another fifteen minutes and she didn’t want to chance angering Drew if he was already sitting in the kitchen, waiting for her. Perhaps the easiest thing would be to brush it and then wind it up in a messy bun on top of her head. She needed it out of her way anyway for cooking. Hoping Drew would be happy with her presentation, she made her way out to the kitchen.
Drew was sitting at the kitchen table, hair still wet and disheveled from his shower, holding a cup of coffee and a paper spread out before him. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt. She couldn’t help think, for just a fleeting second, that it felt like a normal morning in any other relationship. Except for her scantily dressed form, and her stinging bottom of course.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was so fucked. All he’d wanted to do when she’d rolled off her knees and under the covers was to crawl in there and cradle her in his arms. He’d wanted to stroke her hair, cover her in kisses and then taste her sweet pussy, giving her the satisfaction she’d so willingly given him. He’d never felt this way about any of the subs he’d had before. He’d gone in there to get some of his control back, to fully dominate her, to impose order on the emotions she was triggering. What the fuck is she doing to me? ’Cause that definitely didn’t go as planned. Drew turned the shower on as cold as he could make it and stepped inside, hoping it would shock some fucking sense back into him.
After showering, (again), dressed and barefoot, he made his way into the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee. He could still hear the shower running in the other bedroom and wondered if he should check to make sure she was okay. No. He’d better give himself a bit more space before seeing her again. The coffee finished brewing, so he poured himself a cup and sat at the table to read the paper that must have been dropped off at some point.
Several moments later, the patter of her footsteps drew his attention as Scarlett entered the room. She was wearing some delectable lace in a purple color that was doing nothing to tamp down the desire he was already struggling with. He focused his eyes back on his paper, trying to remain aloof, and gestured to the counter.
“There’s coffee made if you would like a cup.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She stood rooted in place for a moment before walking over with soft, quick steps to the counter and pouring herself a cup of coffee. He’d left the cream and sugar on the counter, and she added a bit of each to her cup.
“Sir, would you like more coffee?” She raised the pot in question.
He glanced up briefly before looking back down at his paper. “Yes, and a little cream, please.”
He was trying very hard to pretend the paper had his full attention but he wasn’t sure she was buying it. She walked over, filled his cup and then added a bit of cream.
“Thank you.” He took a sip. Without looking up at her, he said, “I’d like an egg-white omelet with tomatoes and cheese, please.”
Scarlett stood with the pot suspended midair, hesitating yet again, something obviously on her mind. If onl
y he knew what.
Drew raised an eyebrow and instead of asking her what she was thinking responded casually, “Really, Scarlett? Is it that hard to follow an order?”
“No, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Do you want toast or any meat with your eggs?” She quickly replaced the pot and walked over to the fridge to gather the ingredients needed for his breakfast.
“No toast, no meat.” Drew turned the page of the paper he was supposedly reading and continued to ignore her as she went about making his breakfast. Jesus Christ, her ass looked fucking edible in that lace. What he really wanted to do was throw her up on the table and eat her for breakfast. He silently cursed himself for being such a cold prick, but he needed to get a grip on his emotions.
Scarlett’s body language and ever-expressive face screamed frustration. As he continued the pretense of reading the paper, he covertly watched as she reached for a pan out of one of the lower cupboards. He couldn’t help but notice that she bent at the waist and pointed her delectable ass right in his line of vision. Watching her try to push up her breasts while nonchalantly beat the eggs for his omelet had him raising the paper up to cover his smile. When he lowered the paper again, she stuck her ass out, making sure it swayed each time she adjusted the omelet in the pan.
Drew shifted in his seat, trying to gain some control over his growing erection, and knew Scarlett was teasing him. Every action she performed resulted in some kind of ass or breast thrust. And damn if it wasn’t working. He was ready to bend her over the counter, rip that lace off and fuck that ass until she learned who was boss. But then she really would be the winner of this little game she was playing, and there was no way he was letting that happen. After this display, he had much bigger plans for that ass, and it would be on his terms, not hers.
Scarlett placed his breakfast before him—bending deeply, of course. “Can I get you anything else, Sir?”
Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories Page 5
