Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4)

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Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4) Page 56

by Kailee Reese Samuels


  “When did you know?”

  “Do you really want the answer?”

  “Yes,” he says with his hands cupping my ass. “Tell me everything you never could.”

  “When you murdered Tock in New Orleans…that night…you made love to me the first time…”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes, because you said, ‘This is going to take all night, and I’m never forgetting this,’ and I responded, ‘It could take the rest of our lives, and I wouldn’t complain.’ And I remember it all so clearly now.”

  Scratching my back, he grins. “I knew when you let me make love to you in Japan that we had a serious connection,” he confesses. “We weren’t three, and those days with you alone were some of the best of my life.”

  “We’re really doing this…”

  “We are fucking doing this, baby girl.” I lean over and kiss his lips as he unfastens my bra. We’re brewing up a storm—my waters and his winds—and nothing can stop it. “Though you weren’t bad at nineteen.”

  “I was coming down here for you,” I say again. “I got sideswiped. I guess we all did. Is he going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll make sure of it, but don’t even think of leaving me.”

  “I’m not going to,” I whisper, tracing over the scrolling, inked Rebellion on his chest.

  “Can I have this?” he asks, curling his finger into the dip of my bra.

  “You can have all of me.” He pulls the fabric from my body. “I should get in the water,” I say, trying to hold out and be a good girl. His brow suggestively flicks. “Fuck it.”

  We tumble back onto the rug, and I straddle on top of him. “I am not having sex with you. I just ran ten miles. I fucking stank.”

  “… Stank?”

  “Yeah, I am stanky,” he teases.

  I ease my bare puss to sit on his very erect, still covered cock. My finger runs over the Straight to Hell. “Can I go here with you?”

  “I’m your escort, baby girl.”

  I bite my lip, and my hips uncontrollably move against him. “I want you inside of me.”

  “I know, and I will be when I’m not disgusting.”

  “Oh, my God!” I boom. “I drove sixteen hours for a stanky dick and rejection!”

  “You know, I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.”

  “… Promise?”

  “For the rest of your life,” he vows, running his finger along the collar he gave me. “You need more.”

  “Don’t get into a pissing contest.”

  “I don’t need to,” he says. “I already know who you belong to. And it wasn’t you need more of a collar…it was you need more collars.”

  “Oh…” I press my lips to his heart and sliding down. Flipping my legs off to one side, I run tiny kisses over his salty skin, dipping my tongue in his navel as his cock flexes at me. “Don’t start that.”

  He gives that little smirk at me. “You should get in the water.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Yes, that is what we’re going to end up doing if you don’t get in the water.”

  “No, I mean, sure…but I need to call Anna.”

  He sits up, wraps his hand around the back of my neck, and pulls me to his lips. “I’ll do it.”

  I blink. “… Really?”

  “Yes,” he says, standing and picking me up only to deposit me in hot water. “Enjoy!” He calls Anna, propping the phone on his shoulder as he unwraps the foil from the champagne. “Good Afternoon, beautiful, you asked Iris to call you and let you know she’s here. I put her in the bath because she’s exhausted. I love you. Call me later. Bye, babe.”

  “You say bye.”

  “I’m a polite young man.”

  “Are you going to say bye to me?”

  “Yep!” He squints, pops the cork, and takes a swig. “So, I can say hello again. I’m not him. I’m never going to be him. He’s an entity unto himself.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “He’s out there,” he contends. “How about this…you hang out with me—Deacon Vincent Saint Cruz—for seven days and test-drive me. If you are unhappy, if you don’t like the ride, if you miss Sal so much that you cannot stand it, I will give you an out clause.”

  “But if I do that, you’re going to hold back.”

  “No,” he says. “I’m not going to fuck with your head. That’s his game, not mine. I am going to fuck with your body in ways you have never dreamed.”

  “Safeword?”

  “I cannot imagine calling you anything other than Dandelion.”

  “Are we negotiating?”

  “We are,” he contends, propping against the counter and drinking all the champagne. “Hard limits?”

  “No sharing.”

  “No worries.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing that I know.” I slip down in the water. “God! I’m so fucking happy!”

  “Are you happy because you’re with me, or are you happy you’re not with him?”

  I start to answer and stop myself. “Do you want the truth?”

  “Yes,” he seriously says. “Always.”

  “Both,” I admit. “I feel guilty about that, but all we ever did was fight or fuck. And unfortunately, we were good at both.”

  “We’re only going to be good at one of those,” he assures. “Assuming you know I am the boss, we’ll be just fine.”

  I giggle. “You’re kind of cocky, Master Saint.”

  He takes another swig and hands the bottle to me. “You can call it cocky; I call it confident. I know what I want, and I am looking at her. Drink that up. I’ll be back.”

  Laying my arms on the side of the tub, I swivel to watch him. “Where are you going?”

  “Over here to take a shower so that I can get in the bubbles with you.”

  His pants drop, and my eyes fill with lust at the sight of his buttocks. They have perfect curves and dips. I cannot wait to dig my nails into them. He turns, and I catch a glimpse of his hard cock. I may drool, just knowing he belongs to me.

  He snaps his fingers in the air. “Iris…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Your hair looks beautiful.”

  “So does your dick.”

  67

  the candles and the snow and the water and the girl

  His Ride

  In the clear glass shower, I keep an eye on my girl. She is sipping champagne, grinning like a fool, and taunting my ability to restrain myself with her lush legs. And I have a feeling she may spend the rest of her life doing so.

  “Good thing I went shopping yesterday because we aren’t leaving for a week,” I quip, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around myself. “Do we need another bottle?”

  “We will,” she says. “I’m going to spend all night here.”

  “Hey,” I sternly inform, opening the cabinet drawer and pulling out the Glock. “I’ve got one in every room.” I pull out the blade, extra clip, and zip ties. “Every room.”

  “Are you preparing for an invasion because this place is huge.”

  “Fifteen rooms. There is a set up in every single one, including the tool chest in the garage.” I nod. “Point. Shoot. Don’t hesitate.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Is this paranoia a common thing with you?”

  “It is since I became Saint Cruz,” I point out. “I’m not letting anyone steal my time away from the most precious girl in the world.”

  “You’re practical.”

  “I always was,” I say. “I’m going to go pull the trucks into the garage and...”

  “Will they fit?” she interrupts.

  “I don’t know; they should,” I answer. “And I’m going to lock up and set the alarm. Do you need food?”

  “Do you have any crackers?”

  “White or wheat or nut?”

  Her lips twist as she thinks. “Plain white, please.”

  “You’re still not feeling well.”

  “No, go on, though,” she says. “We’ll
talk in a minute.”

  I throw on some gray sweats, run downstairs, and pull the F-250 in when I realize I don’t have her keys. I sprint back up the stairs to the bathroom. “Hey babe, where are your keys?”

  She’s sound asleep. I’m talking heavy breathing...gone to dreamland...zonked. I stand over her for a minute, just watching her in the bubbly foam. “Well, you said you were going to spend all night there.” I grin. I knew she would love the tub.

  I find the Raptor keys in my jacket she was wearing and run downstairs to move it. I glance around outside, feeling like someone or something is watching.

  The house is remote. Fifteen acres to match the fifteen rooms. Gated property. Cameras. I did everything right because I had someone I love do it.

  With the bandage on his cheek, he looked at me. “How many acres does it come with?”

  “Five, but I can buy an additional twenty-five.”

  “Buy ten,” Sal said. “I’ll buy the other fifteen and build another house. We’ll call it Quince.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

  “About sixty-thousand times.”

  “Is that exact?”

  “No,” he said, trying to grin, but his face was still a swollen mess. “I pulled that out of my asshole.”

  “That’s the only thing you’re ever pulling out of that ass.”

  He bumped my arm. “Fucker.”

  “Slut.”

  Four days after the incident, Dom brought him to stay for a week. We made up several times a day. No one but Dom knew.

  I asked him to come.

  When he accepted my invitation, I went to Denver and bought him an entirely new wardrobe to go to Japan. I’m damn lucky. I don’t know that I would’ve forgiven me.

  He was doing some training with Masa and working on getting into Thread to network clients. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone, but even with three banged-up ribs, there was no stopping that tough ass son of a bitch.

  In the tree line, I spot the herd of does and their three newborn fawns. One looks just born. I smile and leave them be.

  After I finagle a few things in the garage, I manage to pull in the Raptor. It’s tight, even in a two-and-a-half oversized.

  We don’t do anything small round here.

  I shut the garage and set the alarm. Everything is locked up tight. I grab her crackers, another bottle of bubbles for the fridge upstairs, and a box of candles I’ve had stashed with a hopeful wish that she’d show up one day.

  I take it all upstairs, light the candles, and start her laundry. I bring her bags in from the truck and debate unpacking her things.

  At the bottom of the bag, I find several boxes of tampons and books on restoring fertility and herbal remedies. I put the books in the nightstand and the tampons in the bathroom. I test the temp of the water, pull the plug, and add some hot.

  She doesn’t move.

  I finish the champagne and take a few pictures of her face that I send to Sal.

  “She’s tired,” he texts.

  “Exhausted.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Sitting on the floor, staring.”

  “Attaboy ;)”

  I doze off listening to her breathe. I have no idea how long I sleep, but when I open my eyes, she’s missing. “… Baby?”

  She opens the door to the bathroom and peeks out. “I’m right here. I had to twinkle.”

  I shake my head and grin cause I’d rather have her twinkling with me, on me, or beside me than anywhere else in the world. I’ll take her. Sold! One twinkler.

  “May I have more bubbles?”

  “Tub or champagne?”

  “Both?” She grins as I add some hot water and bubble bath. “Look at that sky!” She marvels as the heavy snow clouds look almost violet. I pop another bottle of champagne, take a swig, and hand it to her. “Can I have one more thing?”

  “Sure.”

  “You in my tub?”

  I smirk. “Your tub?”

  “Yeah,” she says, trying to hold back her smile as I drop my pants and get in the water. Biting her lip, she follows and slides back to my chest.

  “Do you want to have a baby?”

  “I was trying to get pregnant when I thought I had a husband coming.”

  “Answer the question, Iris.”

  “I’m going to be 32 this year,” she says. “The clock is ticking and not looking promising, considering the doctor is closely monitoring my hemoglobin. I’m severely anemic. If the new medication doesn’t help, we’re going to have to do blood transfusions.”

  “Jesus!” I panic. “Does Sal know?”

  “No one knows.”

  “Were your periods always this bad?”

  “Yeah,” she says, nodding. “They calmed down with the IUD, but that’s not going to help me in the pursuit of a baby. Lani wants me to put off trying because I’m almost guaranteed to be an immediate high-risk pregnancy.” She plays with the two rings on my fingers. “But I don’t have a husband, and a baby sounds like a pipe dream.”

  “You still haven’t directly answered the question,” I mutter, kissing her cheek. “Answer the question, Iris.”

  “Yes, I want a baby,” she affirms, looking up at me. “But, I’m not expecting you to take me into your life and knock me up in one day, Deacon.”

  “I know you’re not,” I say as she spins to face me. “But I’m going to make love to you. And I won’t use protection.”

  She blushes. “We just going to play roulette?”

  “Yep.” I smile and touch her cheek. “Like now.”

  “You don’t want me.”

  “That’s not what my dick is thinking,” I inform as her hand investigates. She slowly strokes my cock, and I moan, “Damn baby, please...let me have you. It’s been so long.”

  “I’m certain you’ve had sex since my thirtieth birthday.”

  “Serene. Allie. Cat. Her brother…err, nephew. My sister.” I grin because fretting over accidents does nothing but provoke the pain. Neither of us knew. “I’m kind of picky.”

  “… Unless it’s a familial relation? Should I worry about you banging Masa?”

  “Absolutely!” I tease as she stands up. “Where are you going pretty? Going to make me chase you and pin you down?”

  “Not tonight.” She winks. “Maybe tomorrow.” Lifting her foot on the edge of the tub, she goes to pull the string. “This may be gross. I haven’t changed it since Texas. Turn away.”

  “It’s going to turn me on because everything about you turns me on,” I confess. “I’m a bit peculiar, not in a Nicky way, either.”

  “I have to get out of the tub and throw this away.”

  “Toss it.”

  “Toss it?” she repeats like the idea is absurd. “Just fling my bloody fucking bullet-shaped cotton across the room...in your new house...with white tile?”

  “Fling the motherfucker!” I boast. She blushes and tosses it to the sink. “Score! And now I get to too!”

  “Why are you so easy?”

  “No point in being complicated.” She eases down into the bath and turns on more water. “You’re going to flood my bathroom.”

  “I love the sound of water splashing on the floor when I’m having sex.” With a blush on her cheeks, she reveals, “That first night at The Dollhouse with you behind me…gawd.”

  “You have no idea how much I wanted to slide into you.”

  “Water turns me on,” she says. “And I know that’s goofy.”

  “No,” I say, caressing her cheek. “It’s beautiful, just like you.”

  “Promise you won’t be mad if I get pregnant?”

  “That combination of words doesn’t exist in my vocabulary.” She cuts the water off in the full tub. “The candles and the snow and the water and the girl....”

  “You’re such a romantic.”

  “You don’t even know,” I suggest. “You know the last time we made love; we were in the water.”

  “And I thought you w
ere a rare treat.” She smirks and straddles over me. “Oh...God...I can feel you…next to me…”

  With my hands on her arms, I pull her closer and kiss those lips. Her tongue sweeps over mine. “Let me put myself in you.”

  “Yes, Deacon...do it.”

  I carefully maneuver between our bodies as she lifts. I nudge her opening with the head of my cock. “Take it whenever you’re ready, baby girl.”

  “You’re going to be the last man I ever sleep with,” she whispers with absolute conviction. She’s so certain. “You.”

  “Yeah?” I grin. “You have no idea what that does to the male ego.”

  “That good?” She slowly drops. “I forgot how fat your dick was.”

  “I do not have a fat dick. That makes it sound like I need to put him on a diet of handjobs. And quite frankly, they ain’t done much for his figure.”

  Flustered, she says, “You’re built differently…”

  “Say the whole sentence,” I urge, understanding part of their problem lies in miscommunication. “Don’t skip the words because you are afraid.”

  She glances out the window. “You’re built differently from him.”

  “Don’t hide. We need to get through the awkward.” I gently curl my finger under her chin, making her face me. “Believe me when I say, I know.”

  “Are we comfortable enough to have this conversation?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m not going anywhere. And I have a good idea what you’re going to say.”

  “He’s a bit longer, but you’re a smidge thicker. Your sack is noticeably bigger.”

  “Don’t forget, I’ve loved that man almost ten years,” I contend, grazing the back of my knuckles over her nipple. “I’ll be the first one to say he’s got a gorgeous dick.”

  “Yes! Ridiculously! It’s like a poster perfect penis.”

  We laugh. Talking about the elephant helps. “He’s ridiculously gorgeous,” I point out. “I busted up his face.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah,” I admit, having nothing to hide. “He knows you’re here.”

  “And he knows what we are doing?”

  “Yes, Sal knows,” I inform, running my hands over her arms as tears well in her eyes.

 

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