by Stasia Black
“Tell me what’s different about me,” I command.
Again he struggles for words, but finally says, “You and I have a bond. We’re…” He shrugs as much as he can while being locked up, “…similar. When I first met you, I looked at you and saw a little bit of myself.”
I blink in shock. What? I thought— I thought when we first met he saw me as a victim. I thought that’s why he pursued me in the first place.
“What do you mean?” My voice comes out as little more than a whisper.
Jackson looks away from me and I can tell by the expression on his face, the way his mouth tightens and his eyes shudder, that he’s said more than he meant to. “Just that we’ve both been too trusting and we know what it’s like to have been taken advantage of by manipulative people.” His eyes come back to mine. “We’ve both survived and are stronger for it.”
I… This is not what I was expecting. Here I am, lodged on a dildo, still horny as fuck, and Jackson’s words are sending me on a tailspin.
Gentry. He’s talking about Gentry. He’s alluded to his past with Gentry a few times. But always in very vague terms. Something bad happened there. I can’t imagine it was anything like what went down with me, but what was it?
I grip Jackson’s shaft again and he groans. The sound shoots straight through me. “You are so fucking turned on right now, aren’t you” I ask huskily. I loosen my grip on him and tease my fingers up and down his length before juggling his balls between my fingers.
“I bet all you can think about right now is what my hot cunt would feel like, squeezing around you, milking you fucking dry.” I give him a hard squeeze and rub him up and down again. He hisses and his cock flexes up into my hold.
I hover over him and grasp his shoulders. “Tell me what Gentry did to you.”
His eyes had been closed in ecstasy but they shoot open at this. And they’re full of fear. Not of Gentry himself, I don’t think, but of me finding out... something. What the fuck? What doesn’t he want me to know? I dig my fingernails into his shoulder muscles as I lean in, pressing my breasts into his chest.
“Tell me.” I’ve never sounded more like a Domme than in this moment.
Jackson’s eyes are wide and wild. “Yellow,” he whispers.
Yellow? He’s going to fucking yellow me?
No way, buddy. Yellow is meant to be a signal things are pushing a sub’s comfort zone too far, but part of the point of all of this is to break through the boundaries of comfort zones. And this is supposed to be about establishing a bond of trust. He’s just revealed that what brought us together involves his past with Gentry. And he thinks he can just fucking leave it there?
I pull back, but I’m not nearly done with him. I go back to pumping up and down on the dildo, but it’s Jackson that I’m riding. This great beast that I’m determined to subdue. At least I have him leashed for this brief moment in time.
I look down at him, taking him in in all his glory. Muscles bulging. Face and chest glistening with sweat as he bucks uselessly beneath me, his dick thrusting into nothing but air.
My pussy clenches around the dildo inside me. I can’t quite pretend it’s him. No, Jackson Vale inside me would be an altogether different experience. But seeing the denied want in his eyes is a high all its own. And God, the wave inside me— It’s rising, and God, the heat—
“I’m going to tame you and then ride you, you fucking beast.”
Oh, oh, it’s close. Almost there. Oh God. I lean forward and grab onto Jackson’s sweat- slicked hair, bringing my face so close to his we’re sharing a breath. “Tell me what Bryce Gentry did to you,” I demand. “Now!”
“Stiletto,” he says, and then closes the gap and kisses me hard. I’m furious and so fucking turned on and—
I claw at his hair as I impale myself on the dildo and come in a sharp bright burst. It’s shorter than others I’ve had, but intense. So intense I feel like I might get a goddamn migraine from it or pass out. I pull away from Jackson’s mouth and lean my head on his shoulder, gasping for breath as I come down.
Then what he said registers. Shit. He used his safe word. That means all play is supposed to stop immediately. I scramble to get off him, but my leg cramps up and I almost fall in the attempt.
“Careful,” he says. He’s breathing hard too. I grab onto his bicep to steady myself as I ease to the floor.
“Got it,” I say, my legs shaking. I remove the dildo and then look around, suddenly embarrassed. Shit. This feels awkward now that the scene is over. Like, hey, where’s the sink so I can wash my pussy juice off this nice brand-new dildo?
But when I glance over at Jackson, his eyes are averted like he’s embarrassed too. He’s trying to scrunch his legs together at an awkward angle but it’s not working since the restraints are holding him spread-eagled. I move to release his ankle cuffs when I realize what’s going on.
His cock’s no longer flying at full mast. Nope, instead, there’s a small puddle of… Holy shit, he came. Without me even touching him, he came. I mean, I’d heard that could happen for guys if they were stimulated enough, but I sort of thought it was a myth.
And he looks embarrassed about it. I hurry to his face, take both his cheeks and leaned down to kiss him. “You’re fucking amazing.”
His eyes search mine. He looks so vulnerable. I’ve never seen his shields down like this before. Like I could crush him or be his everything depending on how I play this moment.
Tonight could be considered a failure if one was just looking at it from the outside. Jackson had a hard time submitting and disobeyed my demands. At the end, he used his safe word. But right now, the way he’s looking at me, his fucking heart and soul stripped bare for me…
I bend down and kiss him again. First with the gentlest brush of my mouth on his and then deeper when his lips tug on mine and his tongue seeks entry. God, I’ve never felt more connected to another human being in my whole life.
I only pull away so that I can release his wrists from the restraints. He immediately sits up and the first thing he does is pull me into his arms. There’s no more embarrassment between us. He just holds me for I don’t know how long. Eventually we undo his ankles. He wraps the towel tightly around his waist and then, hand in hand, he leads me down the hall to his master suite.
Chapter Twelve
CALLIE
When we get to his room, I’m not sure who is taking care of who. From all I’ve read, aftercare is supposed to be the dom/domme’s job, so I head straight for the large Jacuzzi bath and set the faucets going. But it’s Jackson who takes my hand after I’ve undressed to lead me inside.
Jackson settles his large body behind mine and curls me into his arms as the jets start their magic work. The pumping jets ease away all stress, anxiety, and mixed emotions about what did and didn’t work tonight.
I sink into his warm body and his big hands as they start to work shampoo through my shoulder-length hair, massaging my scalp until I’m completely limp against him. He seems pleased by my reaction.
“That’s right,” he murmurs, cupping one big hand over my eyes while the other splashes water over the suds to rinse out the shampoo. I should probably be doing this to him. From the outside it makes sense for a sub to serve his master like this, but really, it throws off the control dynamic. I ought to be the one taking care of him.
I’m about to say something when he soaps up my shoulders, gently massaging as he goes. But fuuuuuuuck it. That feels so good. And right.
Because you know what? Roles were never going to be strictly black and white between us. He’s too alpha, and apart from the times when I just need to be in control, I can’t deny I love being pampered and taken care of like this.
Still. Aftercare is aftercare. Once he’s massaged me all the way to my toes, spending a fair share of time making sure each centimeter of my breasts have been scrubbed squeaky clean, I flip over so that I’m facing him.
His thick member bobs in the water between us. He may have come earlie
r, but it couldn’t have been that satisfying. I press my soap-slicked body against his, his erection sandwiched between us.
Time for a new game. He groans and presses his hips up against me. So predictable.
I pull my hips back. Before tonight, the words I would’ve used to describe Jackson were disciplined, in control, and—to everyone but me at least—standoffish.
Yet just in this one session, I’ve broken through to levels of want that bring out the horny teenager in him. I’ve seen him stripped of the control he values so highly. And it’s magnificent.
Because I’m betting I’m the only one who has seen this side to Jackson since he actually was a teenager. It’s probably something he’s ashamed of and thinks he should hide. Just like the many things I have tucked away. Secrets. Including the secrets he won’t tell.
Yet. He won’t tell me yet. Rome wasn’t conquered in a day and Jackson Vale won’t be either.
I run my wet fingers through his hair. The bath seems to be doing its magic on him as well. His head is relaxed against the sloping side of the bath and his eyes are lazy in spite of his cock standing at attention.
Maybe he’s just accepted this is how it will always be between us. He’s not begging, which is very good. I couldn’t handle my man constantly begging to get off, like the whiny guy in Mistress Nightblood’s scene. But no, Jackson would never demean himself like that.
I squirt some shampoo in my hand from an expensive-looking bottle on the ledge and work it through Jackson’s hair. His eyes close and all his features soften. God, he’s gorgeous. The heavy ridge of his brow and his sharp, arrow-shaped nose. I could sit and stare at him for far too long if I let myself.
I’d think he was asleep if not for the fact that he bends his head forward for me to rinse his hair. That and the aforementioned boner that has not settled down one bit. I chuckle to myself as I cup water and pour it over his head, working the shampoo out and drawing my hands down his solid back. Just having him under my hands is getting me all riled up again too.
I move myself in the tub and push him forward so that I can scoot behind him. Then I wash his back with long strokes. Once he’s clean there, I can’t help it. I start kissing his muscled shoulders, then down his spine, vertebra by vertebra.
Even though the bath water is warm, I’m delighted to see the chills on his skin. Such gorgeous skin. Just the right amount of tan so he’s not pasty, but not in an orange way where I imagine him spending time in tanning beds.
What is his ancestry anyway? Maybe the olive skin tone has more to do with where his parents or grandparents came from than spending much time in the sun. I kiss up his neck and nip him on the back of his ear.
Oops. That seems to have set off some kind of reaction in him, because the next thing I know, Jackson has pulled me around to the front of his body, cock grinding between us again as he lifts me out of the bath. The Domme in me wants to protest, but the girly girl, Callie, is loving it.
Besides, the previous scene is over and we are just figuring this whole thing out. I don’t think Jackson and I are the kind of folks who are interested in a 24/7 power exchange sort of thing. I breathe out in relief at that. I don’t think I’d have the energy to keep that up all the time.
And when he lays me on the bed, eyes dark and looking like he wants to make a feast of me? Yeah, I’m on board with that too.
Except that when he leans over, his whole body over mine to kiss me, I’m slammed with a sense of claustrophobia. Can’t breathe, can’t breathe.
I immediately hook my foot through his inner knee and grab his elbow, then transfer my weight like I learned in self-defense. The next second, I’ve rolled us so that he’s the one on his back with me looming over him. On top.
Breathe. In and out. Looking down, well fuck. That’s just hot as hell. Jackson’s looking at me like he wants to devour me even more now. I grin, able to breathe again and suddenly growing even hotter by the fact that I was able to not only escape and evade this giant of a man, but captivate him as well. Because when I lean over, letting the low hanging fruit of my large breasts dangle in his face, he seems to have forgotten all about the position and any thoughts of being on top.
I grind down and the length of his cock rubs my most intimate places. My breath hitches. I’m shocked I was even able to get off on that stupid dildo earlier when the real flesh-and-blood thing was so nearby. Fuck teasing him anymore. Fuck preamble and foreplay and any of the rest of it.
I lean over him, open the door on his nightstand and, as expected, I find condoms. There’s even a new box, which is appreciated. It’s always nice not to open a guy’s drawer and find a hundred pack with like, fifty of them gone. None of us want to think about who the rest of the pack got used with.
I tear the packet with my teeth and in the next second it’s rolled down over his shaft. He hisses out his pleasure, dark eyes watching me. I can see from how tensed he’s holding his whole body he’s expecting this to just be another tease. He thinks I’m going to pull back and not deliver. Punishment for some failing from tonight’s scene.
I frown a little. We’ll have to work on communication in future scenes. Yeah he wasn’t perfect, but it was his first time as a sub. I don’t want him always off-kilter, afraid of what will or won’t happen next. I can see how some Dommes might like that, but it’s not what I want between Jackson and me. Sometimes anticipation is fine. But I’d rather have communication and openness.
Still, I can’t help smirking at his watchful expression and then I sink down on top of him. His eyelids flutter with ecstasy. His hands aren’t bound this time, though, so he quickly grabs my hips. I’m on top, but I can tell that doesn’t mean that Jackson plans on being a passive participant.
Using the hold he has on my hips, he lifts his torso off the bed, his ab muscles flexing. “You feel so fucking amazing. I’ve been waiting all night, hell, for months to get back where I belong.”
He jackknifes especially deep and we both groan simultaneously. Oh God. Fuck. So much better than that cheap piece of shit dildo.
My hands fall on his shoulders, fingers digging in my nails as I pull him to me. Now neither one of us is really on top. We’re sitting up straight, holding tight onto one another and melded together by our fused, rocking centers.
“I’m gonna love you so good,” he says and this time it’s him who nips at my ear.
I throw my head back, thrusting my breasts forward into his chest. One of his strong hands runs over my mouth, down my chin, then traces my neck down to the valley between my breasts. He continues all the way down until his thumb starts working my clit.
Oh God, it’s rising too fast this time. Too fast. We just started but there it is. How does he know just exactly where to touch—?
He starts taking me even harder, rougher. The bed bounces with each thrust. At this angle, the bulbous head of his cock strikes some place deep up inside me I’ve never even known existed before. Is that what people mean when they talk about a G-spot? Holy hell. Jackson rubs at my clit while he continues ramming at that perfect target.
“Come for me, baby,” he growls. “Do it. Come for me now.”
And I do. I explode. Fireworks light behind my eyelids and shudders rock me so hard from the inside out I feel like I might rip in two.
An animalistic noise comes from Jackson as he jerks inside me and stills, holding me to him with a bruising grip while shudders continue to wrack my body.
We must have slumped back down to the bed at some point, because when I blink my eyes open, we’re laying side-by-side, legs entangled. His cock has slipped mostly out of me. Just the tip remains.
He seems to notice it at the same moment because he turns away, ties off the condom and tosses it in what I assume is a small trashcan beside his bedside table. “I’ll clean up more later,” he murmurs, pulling me back into him and slipping his thigh between mine again. “I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
I’m feeling a bit speechless after that orgasm and even i
f I could talk, what’s there really to say to that?
I make an assenting noise of some kind and then close my eyes and settle into the warmth of his chest.
When I wake up, it’s to find Jackson watching me, propped up on an elbow. I startle slightly and pull the sheet to cover my breasts. His eyes stay trained on my face though.
“What are you staring at, you freak?” I mumble, blushing and letting some hair fall to cover my face.
“I want to transfer you so you’re working directly with my team on the newest prototype we’re developing. Every report I get from your supervisor says your work is head and shoulders above the rest. I need your kind of expertise and out-of-the-box thinking on my team.”
“What?” I blink blearily and try to wrap my sleep-fogged brain around what he’s saying. Wait, does he mean—?
He reaches forward and grabs one of my hands between both of his. “Come work with me.” His eyes zero in on mine, the blue of his irises shining in the morning light filtering in through the curtained windows. “And I mean, work with me side-by-side. No more of this being in the same building but on separate projects crap.”
I sputter. “Stop it. You know I never wanted special treatment just because we’re…” I wave a hand between our bodies, “… involved.”
A crease appears between Jackson’s eyebrows. “I’m not just suggesting this because I want to spend more time with you—”
“But that is one of your considerations,” I butt in.
His eyebrows drop to a full frown of annoyance. “If you’d let me finish—” He moves so that he’s even closer to me in the bed, face to face. “—It’s not just selfish, it’s good business sense. I’ve been watching the work you’re doing. It’s phenomenal. Even your supervisor Marcy thinks so.”
I draw back from him. No way perpetual-stick-up-her-ass Marcy can have anything good to say about me.
