by Lee Savino
My heart thudded to a stop. "What, right now?"
"Now, later. Whenever you're ready, baby. Just say the word."
He still knelt before me, holding my gaze and squeezing his large body into a small space in front of me, as if doing his best not to intimidate me.
He was such a good guy.
He laid the book on the bed, one hand splayed over the crease to hold it open. "One thing you gotta promise me. You've gotta be honest with me. I'm willing to play, if you want to, but this only works if you stay open about what you're comfortable with."
I huffed. "Dane, let's be real. When have I shut up?"
"You get quiet when you're feeling vulnerable."
That made me pause. Did I?
"Just promise to talk to me, tell me what you're feeling."
"I promise."
"Good."
*
To my intense relief, he didn't start right away. Instead, he sat with his back to the headboard, and drew me between his legs. We both looked through the book and I talked about what I liked and didn't like, while he murmured, "Okay, baby," in my ear.
By the end of the book, I was ready to do whatever he wanted.
I had to pee, and said so, and he let me wriggle away. I started to bring the sheet with me, wrapped around my body, then, in a bold move, I picked up his shirt and drew it on. Sized for a man like Dane, the fabric went over my butt. I had dresses shorter than this.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was waiting.
"Dane?"
"You ready, baby?"
"Yes."
His hand went to my neck, collaring me lightly. He kissed me, then walked me backwards to the wall and kissed me again. I let my hands fall back against the wall, giving myself over to him. His hand slid down the front of my body, dipping under the shirt to check on me.
He paused and rested his forehead against mine. "Cassandra. So fucking beautiful."
"Dane."
"I've wanted to do this all night," he growled, then spun me around and pressed my body against the wall. I wriggled and he smacked my butt, then rubbed it. He repeated the movement, spanking me a little, not hard enough to sting, but enough for my body to weaken. Smack, rub, smack, rub, and my brain switched off, my whole body relaxing in response to his dominance.
I gasped as he reached around, sliding his hand between me and the wall and under the shirt to finger me. My pelvis jerked up to greet his questing fingers.
"Spread," he ordered, and I rocked my legs apart, not wanting to give him any reason to stop the wonderful movement between my legs.
He spoke in my ear while his fingers roved. "You probably figured out, I like being in control."
"Really?" I breathed.
"Oh yeah. Thing is, I think you like it, too."
My hips moved against his hand, begging for his touch.
"You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna give me what I want?"
My arousal ratcheted up one thousand percent.
"What do you want?" My voice sounded high and breathy.
"I want you, Cassandra. All of you," he murmured against my temple. "You gonna give yourself to me?"
"Yes." I closed my eyes to focus on the sensation of his fingers working between my legs.
"You gonna give me your sweet pussy?" His cock rubbed against my bottom cheeks as I arched back as far as I could, pressing my chest into the wall. He found my sweet spot and my hips bucked against his hand.
"This is mine now," he whispered, his index finger working right against my clit. "I own this pussy. Whenever you want to touch yourself, you have to ask permission. You understand?"
"I understand," I gasped. Anything to keep that beautiful movement against my clit.
"I mean it. Next time you want to touch, you text me and ask if you can touch this sweet pussy I own."
"Yes, Dane."
"Good, baby."
His fingers withdrew and I slumped against the wall.
He spun me again, pinning my wrists high above my head with one hand while his other went back to working me. His touch dominated my slick pussy lips, and his eyes held mine as he brought me to the brink.
"Who owns this pussy? Tell me."
"You do, Dane," I gasped, almost gone.
"Cum for me," he commanded, and my body bucked against his hand. This time, my legs did give out, and he lifted me and laid me on the bed.
I half expected him to start tying me up, but he lay down behind me and pulled me to him, my back to his front, my body small and dominated by his muscled form.
"Did you like that, babygirl?"
"Oh, yes."
He chuckled in my ear.
A few minutes passed and he held me, waiting for me to come down.
"What about you?" I wiggled my bum, brushing against his hard length.
"I want you," he said with such honesty that my heart dropped to my knees. "But I want to make sure we're on the same page."
"What page is that? The one where the woman is tied with the purple rope?"
He laughed softly, rolled me to my back, and leaned over me, his head propped on his hand.
"This can get intense. I want to make sure you're comfortable with it. There's a word—if you say it, I stop everything."
"Okay."
"This is important. You say this word, and I respect it. I stop what I'm doing, we talk, and then go from there; whether it's chocolate, sprinkles, or more vanilla. You got it?"
"Got it. What's the word?"
"Banana-hammock."
I giggled.
"I'm serious." And he was, even though he wore a grin. "I hear that, I stop everything. It won't disappoint me. If things are too intense you can say 'yellow'. And I'll slow down and check on you."
"Banana-hammock? Won't we laugh and kill the mood?"
"Laughing's good, baby. This is supposed to be fun."
I liked that. "All right."
"You get scared, you want to slow down, you say the safeword or yellow. I'll stop and check on you, then switch it up to do something you're into that we both want to do."
That sounded nice, so I told him that.
"Good, baby. You want more?"
I nodded.
"Shirt off," he ordered.
I tugged it off and lay back down, feeling self-conscious. My arms drifted up to cover my body.
"Hands at your sides," he ordered.
I bit my lip.
"Baby, I want to see you." His hand went to my neck, collaring it lightly as he searched my eyes.
"Okay." Slowly I let my hands slide away.
His gaze swept up and down my body and it was hard, so hard, for me to lie still and not crawl away and find a blanket, a burka, anything to hide under.
A smile wreathed his lips. "Beautiful."
I closed my eyes and gave myself over to his touch, his fingers trailing down my body. Eventually he cupped my pussy.
"Cassandra, look at me." I did and his hand pressed in, coveting the tender folds. "This is mine now." He stared into my eyes. "It belongs to me. No one else. Got that?"
I nodded.
"I don't share. You give me all of you, I give you all of me."
"Okay."
"Good, baby," he said in a soft voice, then changed to demanding Dane. "Up. All fours. Ass to me."
He rose and stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for me to obey.
I thought about feminism. I thought about taking orders from this swoony muscle man.
Then I scrambled into position.
"Spread your legs, offer yourself to me."
I tilted my hips and felt his weight dip the bed behind me. Arching my back further, I pointed my pussy at him.
And got my reward: hot breath on my labia.
"Oooh, Dane…" My front half sank into the bed as he nibbled around before starting with sweet long licks up and down the valley between my plump lower lips. My hands fisted in the covers and my back curved as far as it could go. Dane grasped my hips, pulled me back on
his face, and plundered. He licked and sucked and hit all the right spots.
How did he know exactly when to pause and swirl his tongue?
How was he so into me?
I went limp, my face plastered to the bed and my mouth open, probably drooling. By the time he withdrew, my body trembled on the brink.
A large hand gripped my ass, swatting it before I heard the crinkle of a condom.
"Gonna fuck you now," he growled. "Hard."
"Okay," I said dreamily.
Steadying my hips, he thrust in my sopping wet entrance.
I rocked forward, crying out with happiness.
"You okay?"
"Yes," I gasped. "Don't stop." I braced my hands on the bed. "Please."
"Tell me, baby. Ask for what you want."
"Fuck me, Dane. Please, fuck me hard."
Dane obliged, driving his hips into me from behind. He tugged my hair a little, guiding me as I pushed back on his cock. I reveled in the feel of him dominating me. I wanted him to pull my hair and smack my ass and order me around—anything—as long as he didn't stop pounding me with his beautiful cock.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god…" My orgasm built, crested, shattered, and I fell face-forward onto the bed. Dane gripped my hips, holding them up for him to continue pistoning in and out of me in perfect rhythm.
By the time he finished, I was well and truly fucked, a slobbering, dripping mess on the bed, out of breath, covered in sweat.
He flopped beside me, gasping a little in satisfaction. I blinked blearily at him.
"You all right baby?" His concerned fingers trailed down my back.
I had to tilt my head so the blanket didn't muffle my words. "Oh yeah. More than all right. I'm the best."
"Good." He leaned in and kissed me, then left, returning with a towel to clean me up.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Very sleepy," I murmured, and felt him tuck his body around mine.
"Sleep, baby. I'll be here in the morning."
Chapter 3
Morning started with a bang. I felt hot breath on my breasts before my eyes opened. Dane's mouth closed around my nipple and I shot awake.
"Morning," I breathed.
He didn't reply. He did other things, and a while later I gasped into the covers.
"You're cute when you come," he told me.
My forehead crinkled. "I'm really loud. Chad always joked that he should gag me so I would shut up."
"If I did that, I'd miss the sounds you make."
I flushed.
"It's beautiful, baby."
"Chad, um… he never… made me cum."
"What?"
"I'd do him then get myself off after." I'd always thought there was something wrong with me, that I couldn't climax with my own husband. That was what I'd told myself.
Dane was proving the blame might have lain elsewhere.
"You cum first, baby. Always. And second and third, fourth and fifth," he pushed me back, whispering numbers against my mouth.
"Dane?"
"Mmm?"
"When are you going to tie me up?"
"Mmm," he murmured, and kissed me before getting out of bed. "Soon. Breakfast first."
"Breakfast?"
"You'll need your stamina."
I sat up and he shook a finger at me from the door. "What'd I tell you? You stay in bed."
I lay back in a blissful, post-orgasmic stupor. My phone rang and I made the mistake of answering.
Five minutes later, Dane walked in on me trying to button my jeans with shaking hands.
"Cassandra? What's going on?"
I averted my face. "I'm sorry. I have to go." I stooped, reaching for a shoe. "Um, I'll just let myself out."
"I drove."
Shit.
"I can just… call someone…"
"Cassandra." A big hand caught me. "Baby, tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing, Dane." I kept my head down so my hair would hide my face. Chad always told me I was unattractive when I cried.
"A minute ago you were lying in my bed, happy. Now you're crying. Babe, tell me. If you tell me, I can fix it."
"It's not your mess—"
"Babygirl."
I melted a little. "It's Chad. He kicked me out of the house, said it was his because he paid the mortgage. He wouldn't let me get my stuff. Well," I waved my hand at my phone. "A storage facility just called. Seems my stuff has been there a year and now the rent is due. Chad put my stuff there," I was crying now, hiccupping, "and set up payments from my bank account, the one I stopped putting money in because it was connected to his. The unit called as a final warning, and said… I have to get my stuff out today, and they close at noon on a Sunday—in an hour…"
I couldn't finish, but Dane didn't need me to. He let go of me to pull on clothes.
"Grab your purse," he said, guiding me to the door. "We'll take the truck."
I did as he said, then froze as he held open the car door.
"Dane, you can't do this," I whispered. "I don't want you to see me like this."
He gave me a hug and planted a kiss against my head. "Get in the truck."
We drove and I didn't say anything, every thought sucked into the black pit inside me. Chad had never wanted to work on our marriage. He'd tossed out my stuff as soon as I'd left, and didn't even bother to tell me.
On some level you knew, my brain whispered. That's why you opened a new bank account. I felt sick.
When we hit the storage facility, Dane parked illegally outside the office and ordered, "Stay in the car."
Afraid I would vomit, I did as he said. He returned once, to get my ID, and left me sagged in the seat.
You're such a mess, my brain said. He'll never want you now.
Dane returned and handed me a key.
"Okay, you're paid up through the month. Manager says you have the option to move out and he'll prorate the month back to you, or you can re-sign for a year. I told him your situation and he's giving you a discount."
"But I thought they closed…"
"He's staying open just for you," Dane said, driving to a storage unit and parking properly. "I… convinced him."
"Dane."
"Told you, babe. I'm taking care of you." He started to undo his seatbelt and I put a hand on his chest.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know. I want to."
"Dane." I shook my head.
"You running from me again?"
"No, I just don't want to be a bother."
"Cassandra, you are the furthest thing from a bother. That's the douchebag ex in your head."
I shook my head, nose stinging as I fought tears.
"It is, babygirl. I'm going to replace everything he made you believe about yourself, but it may take some time."
He exited the car and opened my door, helping me out. He pulled me into his arms, and I felt the sad, sick feeling recede.
With Dane's help, I chose a few items to take home. There were boxes of clothes, all my cute furniture, even the pictures from the walls. If Chad had wanted to find the way to hurt me the most, he'd succeeded.
The hardest moment came when I found a framed picture of Gramps on the ground, glass broken. I clutched it to my chest, feeling the ache all over again.
Dane found me like that, crying.
"Baby." His body shadowed mine as he knelt and put an arm around my shaking shoulders.
"Why did he do this? What did I ever do to him? This is my whole life and it meant nothing to him. It was just trash." I wiped my eyes.
Dane held me close and I breathed in his beautiful scent until I calmed down.
"All right," I said. "I'm okay."
He took the picture out of my hands carefully, and guided me to the car.
"I'll handle the photo," he said. "I know a good place to re-frame it."
"You do?" I asked, sniffles turning into a watery smile. "You don't even have pictures on your walls."
"I told you, baby, you have
an open invitation to decorate my place." He swiped a tear from my cheek, chucked me under the chin, then put the car into gear. "And of course I know a frame shop. Same place I got the picnic basket."
*
As if he hadn't already won the Great Guy of The Century award, Dane stopped and picked up fried chicken, and took it to Nan's house, where we ate it. He distracted Nan from my reddened eyes by asking her to tell stories of Gramps. By the end of the meal, both she and I were making plans to visit a home goods store to decorate Dane's place.
"We won't make it too girly," Nan promised.
"Thank you," I mouthed to Dane as I gathered the dishes to clean up, and got an eye crinkle that seemed to say; Anytime, babygirl.
I paused in the kitchen, listening to Nan talking eagerly to Dane for a moment before heading up to my room. I needed fresh makeup and a change of clothes, stat.
It must have taken me longer than I realized, because Dane came up and caught me frowning at my jean-clad butt in the mirror.
He grinned and came over, a hand dropping to the offending bottom. He squeezed and I got wet, remembering the last time he did that, his rumble telling me he owned it.
"You like my butt?"
"Oh yeah." He noted my frown. "You don't?"
"It's not too bad. I always think I need to lose a few pounds."
He swung me around to face him and kneaded my buttocks harder.
"You do, and I'll tie you to the bed and feed you Ben & Jerry's."
"Dane, I'd gain like a hundred pounds."
"I'm sure I could think of some exercise for you," he growled and lowered his mouth to my neck. "Oh, and if I catch you talking down on yourself again, I'll spank you."
I shivered.
"You like the sound of that, baby? Me punishing you when you're naughty? Slapping your bare ass red?"
Holy wow, my body breathed. Under his palms, the skin of my bottom tingled.
"You already smack my butt a lot."
"This would be different." His mouth never left my ear, his wet whisper sending tremors rippling down straight to my clit. "It'd sting and then I'd make it up to you. We can try once for fun. See if you like it."
"Okay," I said, and could bear it no longer. Reaching up, I cupped the back of his head and brought it to me for a kiss.
We danced in the hallway towards my bedroom. My panties were so wet, I was surprised we couldn't hear squelching.
"Wait… Nan—"
