by Tara Sue Me
“Yes,” she managed to get out before he continued his task. Given the freedom to come as often and as vocal as she wanted, she held nothing back, and gave him exactly what he’d asked for. Her first climax came mere seconds after the first pass of his tongue over her clit.
“You liked that,” he said against her skin.
“Was there any doubt?” she teased.
She quickly changed her mind on who was teasing who, because soon after giving her a second orgasm, he slowly made his way up her body. He was taking his time today and it was driving her completely insane.
But what was even more mind boggling was how gentle he was being. Loving her carefully as if she might break if he was too rough. By the time he made it to her breasts, she knew what it was. He was worshiping her body.
It wasn’t like he’d never done so before, but somehow this was different. His touch was more reverent. His kisses more purposeful. She wasn’t sure she would survive him being this tender.
Even when he finally entered her, he moved with long and sensual strokes, drawing each and every possible ounce of pleasure out of the movement before starting all over again.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered. His thrusts were enough to keep her balancing on the edge, but not quite enough to push her over.
“That’s the idea,” he said and nipped her earlobe, sending a shockwave of pleasure down her spine. “Do you feel us? The way we fit together? The way we move?”
“How could I not?” She ran her hands down his back, delighting in the way his muscles moved with every flex of his hips. “I feel you even when you’re not with me physically. Because you are so much a part of me, I carry you with me always.”
He pulled back and looked into her eyes while continuing his maddening possession of her body and soul. “You undo me, Sasha. Everything about you.”
She arched her back trying to get him deeper. Needing him harder. Something.
Finally, he moved faster and when he took her hips and tilted them, he went even deeper.
“Yes,” she said in a half moan. “God, yes.”
“Fuck.” He thrust harder and, not for the first time, she wished there was a way for them to stay like they were forever. Two beings, locked together as one.
But as he moved them both to completion, she realized no, it was better that they be separate. Otherwise, they might grow complacent and not treasure what they had the way they should.
She could think no further than that because the sensations he created within her allowed no room for anything else. Clinging to him as her release swept over her, she gazed into his eyes and was consumed by his passionate adoration.
“Will it always be this way between us, do you think?” she asked him, later, when their pulses had slowed and she rested with her head on his chest.
“No,” he said, stroking her hair. “Based on what I’ve experienced so far with you, it’ll only get better.”
She turned in his arms and felt the truth of his words in her soul. “I can’t wait.”
6
“Bloody hell,” Cole said two weeks after his proposal while they ate breakfast. Actually, she’d finished hers, but he was still eating and hadn’t dismissed her yet. He mumbled under his breath, reading something on his phone.
“Is there a problem, Sir?” She tried to see the screen, but the angle made it impossible.
“Just my mother.” With a sigh, he handed her the phone.
It was an announcement from a newspaper. Her breath caught as she read.
The engagement is announced between Cole, son of The Hon Cornelius Johnson, deceased, late of Yorkshire and Mrs. Judith Johnson MacDonald Lovett of Hertfordshire, and Sasha Blake of Delaware.
She wasn’t sure why, but it came across as a slap on the face. “I’d have given her my parents' names if she’d asked.”
“I know you would have.” He pushed back and opened his arms. “Come here, little one.”
She scurried to him and climbed into his lap, resting her head on his chest.
“Don’t frown.” He stroked her back. “This had nothing to do with either one of us. It was all about her. I don’t know, perhaps her friends have been asking her when her oldest son was getting married. Or maybe she went to a wedding recently and wanted to prove she could do one better. I don’t know why she does anything. Hertfordshire? When everyone knows she’s been living in Paris for the past eighteen months?”
She lifted her head. “Did she send it to you?”
“Yes. I suppose to prove what a doting mother I have.”
Sasha bit back her snort. She’d met Cole’s mother once, last fall when her future mother-in-law flew to the States to visit an exclusive spa in Naples, Florida. The two of them flew down for the weekend because his mother didn't want to take time out of her stay to fly north a few hours to pay her son a visit.
“I have an idea,” he said. Clearly, all discussions pertaining to his mother were finished. Whatever thought had taken root in his head brought a wicked glint to his eyes. “We should hold an engagement party. Here. And only invite our Partner’s friends.”
“Are you suggesting a kinky engagement party, Sir?”
“Of course. Any other kind would be boring.”
She laughed because he was right.
The morning of the party, Sasha jogged to the mailbox hoping to reach it before the mail carrier. In the three weeks since Cole showed her the announcement they’d received a near constant flow of well-wishes and gifts. She held the last of the thank you's, completed moments ago and ready to go out.
“Shit.” The lone envelope waiting confirmed she’d arrived too late. She snatched the red envelope and shoved the thank you's in, lifting the flag to alert the carrier.
On her way back to the house, she turned the red envelope over. It was international mail, but didn’t have a return address. Odd. Didn’t international mail have to have one or was she making that up? They addressed it to "Cole Johnson and Sasha Blake", so she opened it and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
Red. Just like the envelope and written in a gorgeous script was a simple message. All my best. No signature, only an initial. A sole “N”. Weird. Maybe Cole would recognize the handwriting?
She quickened her step and opened the door. Head down, her focus on the note, she called out, “Sir? Do you know…” Her voice trailed off, and she drew to a stop.
Cole stood in the foyer. Waiting. He took the mail from her. What was he doing? She saw his glance at the floor and dropped to her knees, lowering her head just in time.
“I’m not concerned with the mail at the moment. Look at me,” he said and when she complied, he continued. “I’ve decided the party tonight will be high protocol.”
Fuck yes.
“It’s been too long,” he added.
Yes, she agreed silently.
“You need time to prepare, so whatever you had planned to do before the party will have to wait. If there’s something you can’t put off until tomorrow, tell me now and I’ll take care of it myself.”
She ran through her list of things to do and found nothing urgent. “There’s nothing, Sir. It can all wait until tomorrow.”
“Very good.” He placed the mystery envelope on a nearby table and covered the remaining distance until he stood in front of her. “Take my trousers down.”
Arousal and excitement pounded through her veins. It was such a turn on when he used her in the middle of the day. With nimble fingers she made quick work of his pants. Right as she was about to sit back on her heels and admire his erection through his boxers, he commanded her again.
“Get my cock out.”
She leaned forward and eased his boxers down. His cock stood long, hard, and thick, ready to use her in whatever manner he desired.
“Sit back and open your mouth with your hands behind your back.”
Damn, that meant he wouldn’t allow her to touch him. She hurried into the position he wanted, regulating her breathing as mu
ch as possible.
He placed a hand on either side of her face, lining her up with his cock. “I’m going to fuck your throat. Your job is to remain still and take it like the fuck toy you are. If you need to safeword, tap my leg. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Without another word, he thrust forward, hitting the back of her throat with a force that made her eyes water. “You better take my cock all the way down your throat. Let that thick cock inside.” He didn’t pull back, he waited mere seconds before moving forward again. Better prepared this time, she opened her throat, allowing him to push in deeper.
He took everything she allowed and then asked for more. Pumping in and out, giving her just enough time to catch her breath before his cock took it away again. And again. All the while he talked. “Yes. That’s it. Going to fuck it so hard. Take it. Take it again. Deeper. Deeper. Ahh, fuck yes. So fucking good.”
She worked as hard as she could to keep still and to allow him to use her for his pleasure. Though she’d be lying to say his words had no effect on her. She was so worked up, she feared she might come without him even touching her. But she forced herself away from the edge. Not wanting to earn a punishment on the day of their engagement party helped.
“Getting ready to come.” He fisted her hair, ensuring she didn’t move and released down the back of her throat. She sat back down her heels. It was difficult not to help him redress, but he hadn’t given her permission to move her hands.
He pulled his clothes back on then lowered his hand to stroke her cheek. “I’m pleased. You did very well, little one.”
She beamed with his praise.
Two hours before the party, she remembered the red envelope and walked to the foyer to see if remained on the table. It wasn’t there.
Cole probably put it in the box they were using to store all the well wishes.
But she didn’t find it there either.
“Sir,” she said as he walked into the living room. “That red -”
He held up his hand, and she didn’t imagine the way his gaze grew colder. “Are you ready for our guests to arrive?”
“No, Sir, but I -”
He held his hand up again. “In that case, you don’t have time to meander around the house, looking for an unsigned note.”
Did he mean he didn’t know who it was from either? She crossed her arms. “But Sir -”
“Kneel!”
She dropped to her knees. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She punctuated each step he took toward her with a silent ‘fuck’ until the toe of his shoes came into view, inches from her knees. She wanted to raise her head, to look in his eyes, and tell him she was sorry, but she didn’t dare.
“Do you know the difference between sentences that are questions and those that are not?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Interesting. Tell me, is, you don’t have time to meander around the house, a question?”
“No, Sir.”
“Then I don’t expect a response. Is, how long has it been since I’ve striped your ass with my cane, a question?”
Dread filled her body. Why had she pushed him instead of shutting up? “Yes, Sir.”
“Very good. And your answer to that question is?”
“Seven months, I think, Sir.”
“Pity I have to do it today. Especially since I have to double the number of strokes to make sure next time I ask that question, you answer with certainty.”
He didn’t release her to move. She remained kneeling, wondering if she could take ten cane strokes. God, she was such an idiot.
“Go prepare the room and get into position,” he finally said. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
She hurried to the room they had set up as a playroom. Cole learned soon after she moved in that if she didn’t want to think about something, she’d empty her mind of everything. Hence why he required her to prepare the room for discipline sessions. Holding his cane made her think about what was coming.
Everything in place, she positioned herself over the chair the way he required, the cane in her direct line of sight. She took even breaths, waiting for the soft thud of his footsteps. They came, much too soon.
He walked in and stood next to the cane. She watched as he rolled up his sleeves. “This is not how I wanted to spend the afternoon,” he said.
That made two of them.
“Tell me why we are,” he commanded.
“Because you told me not to do something, and I tried to argue.”
“Yes, you were acting like a brat.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Did acting that way get you what you wanted?”
“No, Sir.”
“I suggest you remember how you feel right now the next time you’re tempted to act in such a manner.”
She didn’t think it possible to do otherwise.
“Tell me why I have to double the number of strokes.”
“Because I wasn't certain when my last one occurred.”
“Will you have any trouble remembering today?”
“No, Sir.”
She appreciated he never rushed a discipline session, and he always made sure she knew her mistake, but damn, it was hell on her nerves.
It was almost a relief when he picked up the cane and walked to stand behind her. “This is the first time I’m giving you ten, but I will not go easy on you. We’ve been together long enough for you to know what I expect of you and what I will not tolerate. They will be hard and they’re going to hurt. I expect for you to take them and to stay still and silent while doing so.”
She hoped she could meet his expectations. Abby West told her she loved it when Nathaniel used a cane outside of discipline sessions and added he could make her orgasm with one.
Cole’s cane whooshed through the air, landing on her ass with a fiery hot pain that vibrated throughout her body.
Abby West was out of her fucking mind.
7
There was no hiding her sore ass at the party, Sasha discovered soon after everyone arrived. The dress Cole gave her to wear had no panties. Even calling the outfit a dress was a stretch since the hemline grazed her upper thighs. Whenever Cole had her stand beside him, his hand always went up her skirt so he could rest his hand on her naked ass. If it weren’t for the scars on her back that made public nudity a hard limit, she’d be naked.
After the caning, which she’d miraculously gotten through, while Cole held her, she told him her thoughts about Abby. He didn’t say much in reply but as they waited for their first guests, he told her he’d asked Nathaniel to demo a sensual caning.
Because she was under his rules for high protocol, she bit back her reply that sensual caning made as much sense as jumbo shrimp or a twelve ounce pound cake.
“What do you think, little one,” he said. “Would you like for me to give you orgasms with my cane?”
It was a direct question, she was free to answer. From her place, kneeling by his feet, she looked up. “It doesn’t matter, Sir. It’ll never happen.”
Cole laughed. "Was that a challenge? Do you think I’m not up to the task?"
“That’s not it, Sir. I’m sure you’re quite up to it. And I’m sure you could give a lot of submissives orgasms with a cane. I don’t think I’m one.”
“Unfortunately,” he said. “We can’t try today can we?”
“No, Sir.” Because after a discipline section, she wasn’t allowed an orgasm for twenty-four hours. She understood the reasoning behind the rule, but that didn’t mean she liked it. However, she was fine with the rule at the moment. She didn’t want a cane near her body for at least two months. Maybe longer.
“There are Abby and Nathaniel now,” Cole said, helping her to stand. Cole welcomed them, but no one spoke to her. Sasha overheard Abby tell Cole how thankful she was for his call asking them to demo. She added it was one of her favorite scenes to do. It appeared she was on the verge of saying more but Nathaniel placed a hand on her back. Sasha bit back a laugh. She wasn’t the only one whose mouth got h
er into trouble.
Abby and Nathaniel’s demo started about an hour after Daniel led everyone in a toast for the newly engaged couple. Before Abby and Nathaniel entered the demo room to set up, Cole already had Sasha in place. He’d found a spot for her to kneel allowing views of Abby and Nathaniel both.
“It’s important you watch more than Abby,” Cole told her. “Pay attention to Master West. I want you to see how he wields the cane in this demo differs greatly from the way he would if it were a discipline session.”
The crowd gathered soon after Abby and Nathaniel got into place. It seemed everyone was interested in Nathaniel’s technique. Apparently, Sasha wasn’t the only person Abby had told about her enjoyment of the cane.
Nathaniel joked with Cole. “I’m not sure if my reputation precedes me or if it’s my wife’s ability to orgasm.”
Abby’s face turned red. When Nathaniel noticed, he pulled her close and whispered something that made her turn even redder. He laughed, gave her butt a swat, and told her to get naked.
Once Abby was situated, the session started. Sasha had no trouble keeping her eyes on the couple. When Cole first mentioned it, she feared her recent interaction with a cane would prevent her from appreciating the scene. She was glad that assumption was wrong.
There was no way to deny what she saw was anything other than a sensual scene. Nathaniel positioned Abby on her belly, resting on a padded table. Unlike when Sasha was bent over a chair earlier. Nathaniel didn’t even pick up his cane until well into the scene. He used his hands. First to massage Abby’s back with lotion and later to work her up from nothing to light impact.
He spoke to the group as he worked on Abby, but his tone was lower than normal and he whispered. Everything about the caning: the room’s low lights, the silence of the crowd, the gentle murmurs Nathaniel gave for Abby’s ears only, nothing spoke of pain or displeasure. He centered everything on Abby.
When Nathaniel finally lifted his cane, Sasha wanted to be Abby. Crazy considering how her afternoon went with a cane interaction. But watching the way Nathaniel’s sensual caning worked, in no way resembled what she’d experienced earlier.
