The Dominator

by Prince, DD

  We found a deli where I ordered corned beef on rye with fries and a Coke and she softly told the waitress “Same for me.” We’d walked in silence, and then ate in silence, people watching out the window. I caught a glimpse of her throat and it was red from when I’d grabbed her. It would probably be bruised tomorrow. My gut twisted when I saw that. I looked away and as I did, I caught a young college-aged guy in a varsity jacket checking her out from across the restaurant. I glared at him and he went red in the face and looked the other way. She saw it happen. She looked back down at her food, which she’d barely touched.

  Then on our way back, as we made our way past the Bellagio’s fountains, I saw her stare at it in what looked like appreciation so I stopped and we stood there so she could watch. Her eyes were sad. I felt my heart constrict. Fuck, Tia. I’m sorry, baby. These words stayed in the middle of my throat.

  I turned her to face me and I caressed her face and stared at her for a minute, trying to say things with my eyes that I couldn’t find the words for and after a minute I pulled her in close for a kiss. Her lips parted and she let me kiss her but she didn’t really kiss me back. She winced. I think her lips were sore from earlier.

  Anyone walking by would’ve thought we looked like a happy couple in love with the backdrop of the Bellagio water fountains. It’d make a winning post card. Good thing we weren’t standing there holding one another with thought bubbles dangling over our heads.

  My thought bubble: I’m so sorry, Baby, sorry for what I am, for what I need to do to you. I went too far. I wish I could take it back.

  Hers: I fucking hate you. I hope you die, you rotten to the core animal.

  Tia

  At the restaurant and walking to and from, he kept stealing glances at me. I think he was looking to see if I hated him. He probably wanted to know if I’d stopped caring about him, if he’d killed that. He’d shown me many sides of him since we’d been thrown together and after seeing this side, after seeing him snap like that with me, and then find it within himself to use me like that; he was probably trying to determine whether or not I could handle this.

  The truth was that I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I felt. I knew I had to handle it from the perspective of being trapped with him right now but what I didn’t know was if I could handle it in the way that… would it break me?

  In the moments when he was being horribly cruel I thought my feelings had shriveled up and died. I would’ve guessed that now in the public I would take my chances by screaming bloody murder, hoping someone would rescue me.

  But then with the reveal of the necklace being some sort of anchor for him, then the way he held me and said he loved me, and fell asleep against me like he was completely exhausted, like he’d been through the ringer, just like after Mexico, it just hit, twisted a knife in me somewhere deep. I had fallen asleep but just for a little while; I think my brain made me sleep to protect me because I couldn’t process it at the time. After I’d woken, most of me underneath him, unable to move without waking him, I just stayed still and tried processing it. I was still processing it. All of it.

  That necklace had come off and on him. He’d been broody for the past few days and then there it was and he settled down. He took it off to be horrible to me when I’d pissed him off and then when I put it back on he told me he loved me and passed out like he’d exhausted himself.

  It was on him at the beach after our first date when he’d been so passionate. It was on him in the basement when he wasn’t upset after I’d gone down before he woke up. I’d seen him take it off a few times when he was about to be particularly horrible. He didn’t want to wear it in Mexico when he went off to enact revenge against my kidnappers. He took it off when he wanted to punish me, twice from what I could remember.

  What was it with that necklace and more importantly, how could I keep it on his neck? And how would I convince him that he needed therapy? He’d been really stressed out since talking with my Dad at the hospital. He’d hardly slept the past few days. That stress on his mind and his body...did it build up to this and then erupt like a volcano, spilling molten lava all over me?

  Tommy

  After I kissed her, I wouldn’t say she responded but she didn’t pull away either, she looked at me like she was trying to de-code me.

  Good luck with that, Baby.

  I pulled her tight against me and kissed her on the top of her head and we stood for a long time just watching the lightshow. I ran my hands up and down her back and her arms, just holding her close to me. I wanted her to relax against me but she was stiff, holding her arms at her sides.

  “Ready?” I finally asked after realizing she wasn’t going to relax.

  We walked back toward the hotel, hand in hand. Then two beat cops passed us on the sidewalk just before we hit the entrance. My gaze darted to her face. She glanced at the cops and then straight ahead, the way she’d glance at anyone we passed. I squeezed her hand real quick and then let out a long breath of relief. I wasn’t sure if she noticed or not.

  We got up to our suite in silence and then when we got into the bedroom she disappeared into a bathroom. I heard the shower turn on.

  I debated whether or not to get in with her or go to the other bathroom but finally decided I had no choice. I had to look after her. I had to make sure we were okay.

  I walked into the bathroom, took off my clothes, and climbed into the shower and found her sitting on the tiles inside the shower stall, huddled in the corner, bawling her eyes out under the running water, her face buried in her knees.

  She gasped when she saw me step in and then it was like transparent shutters came down and her expression went cold. No. Fuck no! I had to fix this.

  “Tia, come here,” I said as gently as I could, despite the emotion twisting in my gut, and motioned for her to get up. She did, but robotically. I took her face into my hands and I kissed her and pulled her tight to me.

  She stood there, trembling, despite the fact that the shower was scalding hot.

  “Put your arms around me, baby, please?” I pleaded with her.

  She did but it felt robotic, too. I soaped up my hands and started on her back, rubbing my hands up and down. I massaged her shoulders and then took a step back and started on her beautiful breasts, moving my soapy hands up and down and then massaging her throat while softly kissing her face. She reached over and took the shampoo and squeezed some onto her palm and then started to rub it into her hair, squeezing her eyes shut tight and focusing on her shampooing as if I wasn’t even touching her. I let go of her and started to scrub myself instead. She turned her back on me and got further under the stream. When she was rinsed off, she said, “Excuse me,” not looking at me, and then she squeezed by me and left the shower. I leaned against the wall and contemplated what to do next.

  I could hear her blow-drying her hair outside the shower stall.

  I got cleaned up and tried let the hot water wash something, I didn’t know what, that was part of me, away. Yes, I’d wanted her pissed, I wanted her provoked so I could bring her to heel and satisfy my urges and work off my frustration but it had gone off the rails. I never knew she’d run from me. The hour between her taking off and her telling me she was back in the room put me over the edge. I knew she wasn’t far, I had a GPS in her ring and had seen she wasn’t far, but the fact that she’d pushed back that hard made me lose my shit like I’d never before lost it with a woman.

  I never knew that it’d get me so filled with rage and that at the same time it’d light a fire in me that way. I knew, when I’d been berating her, spanking her, fucking her, that I was doing damage to her, to us, but I couldn’t get a lock on it. I’d let it bubble over, I’d gone over the edge with her to a point that might’ve been the point of no return. That’s why I guess I had her put the necklace on me, I needed her to know I was past it, that I could still be sweet, maybe even be the ice cream shop guy she dreamt of sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes. I needed her to know I had that other side o
f me but that I was done. For the time being, anyway. I didn’t know what would happen now. The look on her face, how distraught she was, it wasn’t just about what I’d done, it was about who I was. It was about how crushed her hopes and dreams for our relationship now were. I’d fucked up huge, probably irreparably.

  I got out and dried off and I found her in bed. She was wearing a white tank top and white underwear that looked like short shorts when I pulled the blankets back. Her back was turned to me.

  I curled into her back, ignoring the sting of her tightening, and nuzzled in and kissed the back of her neck. Her hair was still a little bit damp and it smelled different, like the hotel shampoo. I wanted it to smell like vanilla, oats, and honey, like cookies, like it had the night I played guitar while we watched the sunset over the pond at my safe house when all felt right in the world. Everything right now felt wrong. I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I whispered in her ear, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll fix it.”

  She stiffened even further so I knew she heard me but she said nothing. I leaned over and turned her so that she faced me and her cheek was against my chest. I stroked her throat where I’d marked her and fell asleep with my nose buried in her hair.

  ** ** **

  In the morning I woke up fifteen minutes before my phone alarm went off and for a split second I panicked that she wasn’t beside me. But then I saw her. For the first time, she wasn’t draped over me. She was huddled into a ball on the bottom of the bed, no blankets on her, and she was asleep but she was shivering. Pretty poignant to me that in her deep sleep she was that repelled by me that she wasn’t even seeking warmth. If someone had just ripped my heart out of my chest I doubt it’d hurt as much as seeing her like that. I had to figure out how to fucking fix this.

  I climbed down to the bottom of the bed and curled into her back and wrapped my arms around her. She didn’t nuzzle in to my warmth. She continued shivering. I reached in between her legs and started to circle her clit with my fingers. She stilled. She wasn’t wet. She wasn’t opening up for me like she usually did. If I had any decency I’d leave her alone and let her recover from what I’d put her through but I had no decency. None.

  I wasn’t giving up until I made her shatter and willingly wrap her arms around me. I needed that right now. I needed it more than my next breath. I needed to know we were gonna survive this, that I hadn’t lost her.

  I kept going but she wasn’t giving me anything. She was trembling with fear now, instead of just the cold, and I knew she was awake and afraid. I decided to pull out the moves and kissed her from her shoulder all the way down to her hip and then I turned her onto her back and pulled down her panties and started lapping at and prodding her clit with my tongue. Her eyes were squeezed shut tight and her bottom lip was sucked in; a deep V between her eyes.

  After a long time and a fuck of a lot of effort, it didn’t seem like it’d get me anywhere. I worked two fingers in and finger fucked her hard and fast while working her clit with alternating sucking and tongue action and fuck me but I felt elation when I finally tasted some of her moisture. Her breathing went shallow and then she let out a little moan and then a little gasp. About fucking time.

  Then she was clawing at my arms and pulling on my hair and then she tried to pull away and I knew she didn’t really want away, she was only reacting to the intensity of it. Then she squirted. The way she jumped, almost five feet in the air, and said, “The fuck?” made me laugh.

  I tackled her to the bed and kissed her all over her face, a succession of powerful smooches all over her gorgeous face. I expected she’d be all loose and covered in an awesome sex glow but instead she was crimson and shaking her head and her hand was over her mouth. Tears unshed filled her eyes. They looked so green. So shiny. So fucking sad.

  “You squirted,” I told her matter-of-factly, looking down at my wet chest. She looked at me like I was speaking Greek, “Women can ejaculate, too, you know.” I added.

  She shook her head. She had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Baby, it takes a very skilled lover to pull that off. Many try and fail. Many women never get to experience it. Congratulations.”

  My cockiness did nothing to help my cause. She hid her face, mortified. I got up and grabbed her wrist and tugged to get her to follow me to the shower. She wouldn’t look at me in the eyes. I knew that other than getting to watch her fall apart completely that my efforts hadn’t given me a damn thing.

  Tia

  When I’d woken up at the wrong end of the bed with him all over me, I wanted to die. I’d climbed down there when I couldn’t get to sleep in his arms. I needed space. I had contemplated sleeping on the sofa but suspected he’d be pissed and be more than happy to dole out another punishment if I dared sleep somewhere else. After he washed and shampooed me, trying to be all sweet and attentive again in the shower, he got washed and shampooed and then he left me in there. I stayed in there until I was pruny. When I finally got out, he was gone. He wasn’t in the sitting room or the bathrooms either. I checked the stupid iPhone and there was a text from him.

  “Baby, gone to a meeting. See you in a few hours. Order breakfast. Go down to the spa too (take Nino & Jimmy) and I’ll text you in a bit with the name of who to see at a boutique for you to pick a dress, shoes, and whatever for tonight. We have a dinner and show thing with my associates. I left a credit card for you. Pin 5683. Get whatever you want! Text me when you get this. Xo. ”

  I replied, “Ok.” Then I knocked on the adjoining room’s door. Nino opened it. He eyed me warily. I was surprised neither of them was stationed in here with me after yesterday.

  “I’m about to order room service. Do you two want anything?

  “No,” he grunted.

  “I’m sorry.” I said, looking him in the eye, “I’m sure I put you in a bad position yesterday and I’m sorry about that. I let my, uh, emotions get the better of me. I hope you didn’t catch too much slack.”

  His mouth turned up into a smile, “It’s okay, doll. And no, we’re good.” He winked. I think I garnered some respect by speaking up and apologizing. Then I saw his eyes land on my throat, “You alright?”

  I nodded and pulled my robe tighter, “I’ll be booking a spa appointment and” I heard my phone ding, “some visit to a dress shop or something. I’ll let you know about that?”

  He smiled and nodded, “I’ve already got the details. Get breakfast. Then let us know when you’re ready to go.”

  I nodded.

  It was already 11:45 and I wasn’t surprised, since I saw the sun rise before I finally fell asleep. I looked at the phone.

  Tommy had texted a boutique name and address and the name Suzette and wrote that I should call down to the hotel spa, that they had an appointment for me. I replied with a “Thanks” He replied back with three x’s.

  I headed to the bathroom to examine my throat. It had a purply and fairly distinct handprint on it. There would be no hiding that I’d been choked. Nino hadn’t looked pleased when he saw it. But what would he do about it, right? Nothing, likely, except pity the boss’s poor stupid girlfriend who’d gotten herself in trouble.

  I ate some oatmeal and fruit while watching the news on TV and tried to get my mind straight. I pondered things, wondering if I’d kept his dominance cravings at bay after Mexico with the games we’d played at the farm but in the past few days since then there hadn’t been any games but there had been stress. Oodles of stress.

  He’d warned me after Mexico that he might take his frustrations out on me in the bedroom. I had no idea what that meant, really. Did he need me to be stress relief? Maybe if I played the kinds of sex games with him that we’d played at the farm, that’d help. That’d give him the thrill of the chase and so forth. Maybe if I made sure I did that, it’d be enough and he’d keep the necklace on. And maybe if he didn’t have the necklace on I’d know to be extra careful. I’d do my best to make him not want to take it off and if it was off I’d make sure not to provoke him.

 
Right now I wasn’t thinking like a girl happy to be with her fiancé on a trip; I was thinking like someone who had to find a way to survive. I resisted the urge to crawl back into bed and cry some more over the lost love of my life that I now knew was just a mirage and decided that I just needed to get through the rest of this trip and when we got back I’d try to figure out what to do next. When we got back home, he wanted me to start planning our wedding. At that thought, ice pierced through my veins. I looked down at the engagement ring on my finger. It was beautiful alright, and right now it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

  ** ** **

  By 7:00 I was ready for him, as ready as I could possibly be to go on a date and pretend that I was okay with it.

  I was in a knee-length sleeveless fitted short-sleeved gold dress with a high lace neck. I had stammered to the dress shop lady about wanting something with a turtleneck and she laughed asking how I could think of wearing such a thing in the desert in June but then I pulled my hair back and showed her my throat and she didn’t even flinch, just strolled over to the rack that had this beautiful dress. I kept on my new diamond earrings and wore a pair of gold strappy heels that had been paired with the dress. Thanks to the spa, I had freshly done fingernails and toenails already with perfectly shaped brows, and I was ready to go. I’d foregone the bikini wax today. My girlie parts had seen enough action in the last 24 hours, thank you very much. My trip to the dress shop in a cab with my two bodyguards had been uneventful but they seemed to be very alert, probably figuring their balls were on the line if I managed to give them the slip.