by Stasia Black
Oh yes. I know exactly where we’ll be starting.
“Strip and get on the bed,” I order.
Jackson’s eyes narrow and for a second I think he won’t obey.
“You said I’m still the top,” I remind him darkly.
He nods, his jaw tightening as he bows his head. The thrill runs through my chest at the gesture. Just like always, I can see how much submission is a fight for him, and I love it. It wouldn’t be the same if he didn’t strain against the leash. But he does it. For me.
For me. His would-be betrayer.
The normal exhilaration turns flat, and then to a dull, aching hollow. Even when he drops his boxer briefs and I see his beautiful half-hard dick revealed.
I only hurry to where he sits on the bed and, without looking him in the eye, grab one ankle and secure the cuff around it. Mechanically, I move to his second ankle and do the same. There’s some slack from the chains, but his legs are forced to open in a slightly unnatural spread-eagled position. He leans back on his elbows to ease his balance.
I continue ignoring him as I yank off my sweater and toss it to the ground, revealing a lacy black bra. My leggings come off next. I might have dressed outwardly for friendly and comfortable, but I guess I was never really kidding myself that I knew he was going to see what was underneath. This sexy bra and thong set is new, an impulse online buy from a few weeks ago. From the way he goes from half-mast to full as I walk toward him, I’d say it was money well spent.
God, he really is gloriously gorgeous.
I climb on the bed, positioning myself in a spanking position over his lap. His hard-on pokes me and I can’t help rubbing my tummy against it. He sucks in air at the contact.
Even in my submission, I’ve retained dominance by restraining his legs so awkwardly. He probably can’t get the kind of leverage he’d like for a proper spanking, but somehow this feels like an acceptable compromise in my fucked-up head. I need this, but I can’t give over control completely. I just can’t.
Jackson swats my ass extra hard the first time and I yelp. So it’s going to be a fight for dominance after all.
I don’t chastise him for it. This is what I need.
To be punished.
I arch my back so that my ass rises up in the air, taunting him.
He doesn’t need much invitation. He starts going to town. Blow after punishing blow rains down on my ass.
Motherfucker! Oww!
God, I forgot how much this stings. I jerk and writhe against him, no doubt giving him exactly what he wants in the form of friction against his cock. He lands another walloping smack against the bottom side of my ass and ow! but God, yes, yes, right there.
He keeps up and everything else starts to fade. There’s only sensation. The sting. The way it boomerangs back and forth down deep inside me to my core. Jackson owning my body. Oh, oh, oh Gooooooooood.
Occasionally his other hand squeezes up in between my thighs, teasing me. Not giving me what I really want. But when his spanking hand lands, the slight impact forces me closer to where he’s teasing me, and God, it’s so delicious, the throb grows more intense with every second.
But then I remember why I wanted all of this. Gentry. What I’ve even contemplated doing for him. Punished. I’m here to be punished.
“Harder. And tell me what a bad girl I am,” I manage through huffing breaths. “What a filthy, disgusting slut.”
“You’re my beautiful slut. Built so perfectly.” Jackson lands a resounding smack in the center of my ass that’s already incredibly sensitive. My whole body jerks, but that’s not why I twist around and glare up at Jackson.
“I’m a disgusting cum bucket. Worthless except for my tits and ass.”
Jackson meets my gaze calmly. “Your body is a work of art and deserves to be worshiped.”
What the—
“I’m a filthy lying bitch,” I growl furiously, grinding myself down on his cock. What the fuck is this? He knows how the game’s supposed to be played. He’s the one who fucking taught me. “Say it. Say I’m a dirty cunt.”
He keeps his hands on my ass and starts massaging the sore globes. “You’re gorgeous. You’re a goddess. You’re—”
I leap off of him. Before he says another word, I slap him hard across the face. “I’m a disgusting whore!” I shout. “Say it!”
“Stiletto.” The word comes out of his mouth quietly and as soon as it does, everything comes into startling focus: me standing over Jackson, breathing so hard I’m almost hyperventilating, the handprint across Jackson’s cheek getting redder by the second. Oh my God.
I take a step back. Shit. Run away. I want to run away.
But I’m the one who just took things way the fuck too far. I might be a shit, but I refuse to be a shit who just abandons my sub. Even if he wants nothing to do with me after this. Safe, sane, and consensual.
My hands tremble so hard I can barely manage the buckle at his ankle. Then, masculine fingers join mine.
“Callie.”
I cringe at his voice, continuing to fumble with the second buckle.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he demands. Then he softens his voice. “Please.”
It’s cowardly, but I ignore him. I look at the floor and pray for it to swallow me up. We had such a wonderful day all afternoon and his coding was so successful and then I ruined it.
But didn’t you already ruin it? Way earlier than now? I ruined everything the moment I took that meeting with Gentry. What am I going to do? What the fuck am I going to do?
And then I made everything ten times worse by bringing Jackson in here and fucking this up so badly on top of everything else.
Jackson catches the tear that slides down my cheek and I finally turn to him. “Why wouldn’t you just say it?” There’s anguish, not accusation, in my voice. “You had no problem with the humiliation talk to the other sub. You encouraged me to use it.” I look at him in absolute confusion and then swipe angrily as the tears continue to fall. I can’t look him in the eye but I feel him watching me while I free his second ankle.
“Vocal humiliation is a part of play because it’s taboo,” he explains in his quiet, strong voice. “Society says we’re not supposed to say those things out loud, so when we do it in play, it turns us on.”
“Exactly,” I cut in. “So why—”
He’s already shaking his head. “But you,” he reaches out and grabs my hand. “Babe, I’m afraid you believe it about yourself. All those things you were saying. None of that’s true. I won’t say it to you.”
I snatch my hand back and turn away from him.
My actions should be telling him to back off but he just keeps going. “Bad things have happened to you in the past, haven’t they? You don’t have to tell me what,” he runs a hand down my spine. “But you will allow me to help you through it. Now let’s stop flirting with this switch. You need me to be in control tonight. So let me take it.” His voice deepens and there’s a clipped tone to it that wasn’t there before. “Get on the bed.”
It’s no soft suggestion. It’s a command. Given by a man in control. I could safe word the fucker right back and end this.
But it’s not what I want. I was so close to finding that high within myself earlier during the spanking before I started demanding things of him. Before I started forcing it to go my way. And he’s made it sound like we can switch for just tonight.
It seems like a foreign concept. The way I’ve heard things, a person is either submissive or dominant. But Jackson seems open to everything—or at least is willing to try, for me—so how can I give him anything less? Especially considering what I might have to…
I cut the thought off before it can even finish.
“No bondage.” Please don’t let him ask any questions. Please don’t let him ask any questions.
He just nods. “On the bed.”
My heart is still knocking around my chest like a marching band drum corps, but I obey.
He gets on the bed and pulls
me onto his lap again, this time with him in a far more comfortable position as he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Aw, there we are.” Satisfaction drips from his voice. “The most beautiful goddamn ass in all creation, made just for me.”
He caresses the reddened cheeks gently, then leans over and kisses each one. He doesn’t stop there and my body jumps in shock when I feel his wet tongue exploring the rim of my back entrance.
“Shh,” he whispers, massaging my ass cheeks before delivering several stinging slaps again. Then his tongue is back at it, exploring forbidden places.
He wraps an arm around my waist to hold me in place while his tongue continues thrusting up inside the tight rosette of my ass. I shudder and writhe in his hold, not sure if I’m trying to pull away or push back against him. It feels weird and wrong and that fact in and of itself makes me love it. His saliva rolls down between my folds. He’s a messy eater. Oh God, just that thought has me on the edge of coming.
“Look at this pretty, pretty cunt. You’re juicing for me, aren’t you, beautiful dirty girl?” He gathers the moisture with his fingers, dipping them inside my pussy, rolling in a circle and then pulling back out. He drags his fingers teasingly, ever so teasingly back to my ass. Then he delivers another stinging series of slaps.
He’s not spanking me hard. It’s more about sensation. And domination. This isn’t the punishment I was seeking, but I’m too lost in what he’s doing instead to argue. My back arches in pleasure.
He slides me fully onto the bed, face down, so he has better leverage when he buries his face between my legs. There’s no preamble. He lifts my hips and ass up off the bed so I’m slightly up on my knees and he has better access. Then he lays on his back and slides underneath me so that I’m basically sitting on his face. It should be a power position—for me.
Except for what he’s doing.
He goes straight to my clit.
And he bites.
Not hard, but I’m already swollen enough that the merest graze of his teeth lights me up like the fucking Fourth of July. And of course he doesn’t leave it there. At the same time he slips a forefinger into my ass.
I jolt and this time not from pleasure.
I’m back in the room. That hellish room with Gentry ramming himself up my ass until he bottomed out, all but ripping me open.
Look how the filthy whore bitch loves it.
Reliving how I had to pretend they were breaking me even while letting myself get off because I knew it was the fastest way to get away from my rapists.
I open my mouth, ready to shout red right as Jackson inserts another finger. I clench around both fingers like I can expel them by pushing them out. But as I do, Jackson circles my clit with the gentlest tease and then licks me hard with the flat side of his tongue.
And it feels fucking amazing.
Seriously out of this world.
Oh— Oh— Oh, it’s hitting. So high, so good. My breasts arch into the bed and heat hits my face, light behind my eyes at the initial ripple of the coming orgasm.
Oh God, Jackson. This is Jackson. Jackson who’s only intent is to worship me. I lift up to my elbows so I can look down my body and see the top of his head where he’s so vigorously going to work. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow makes for friction everywhere. Another wave of heat shudders through my body and Chriiiiiiiiiist, I’m so close.
But maybe he’s run the show long enough.
I lift all the way up to my knees, away from Jackson’s mouth. I carefully maneuver down his body.
I need to smell him. I need to ground myself in all things Jackson.
This moment needs to be separate from everything that’s gone before. When I sink down on his straining cock, I drop my face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. Woods and pine and everything Jackson. And the way he fills me, fucking hell, it’s— It’s—
He hisses through his teeth as I fully seat myself and then he grabs my legs, positioning them on either side of his hips. Apparently he’s not ready to give up control yet. He swings his legs off the side of the bed and then he’s sitting as well, with me riding him. He reaches around and locks my legs behind his back. My legs flex and I squeeze him to me with everything I’ve got.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans. His slatted eyes flash and he crushes my chest to his and kisses me hard.
The arousal that flagged ever so slightly with all our maneuvering ramps back up to a ten, or make that a twelve, with his hungry kiss. His cock inside me flexes and his hands grip my ass as he maneuvers his hips up and down, starting to fuck me with a tortuously slow rhythm.
Then, when he’s barely gotten started, his fingers are pressing at the pucker of my ass again. “Let me in, honey. Let me in. I want in everywhere. I want every filthy beautiful fucking part of you.”
I shudder and breathe him in as he pushes two fingers in. Then he starts massaging me deep within while his cock continues its relentless rhythm.
I whine and bite his shoulder hard. It’s so much. Too much to feel at once. Even though I’m theoretically on top, with my legs wrapped around him like this, I don’t have much thrust capability. Mainly I’m just moving my hips back and forth when he shoves in to get maximum stimulation and God, am I fucking stimulated. Higher. Higher. Surely, he can’t go much more before—
“It’s just you and me here. But I want everything. Everything,” he demands, adding a third finger. The fullness is everywhere. And he’s right. It’s just him and me. There’s no one else here. No demons. No ghosts.
Just Jackson, who smells so goddamn delicious I don’t know if I want to inhale him, lick him, or bite him again. Oh God. Right there. Right—
He shifts slightly and his cock angles to hit the magic spot up deep inside me right as my hips grind up against him and—
“Jackson!” I scream as white light bursts behind my eyes.
My chest expands outward and then contracts and then expands again for what feels like an unending moment in time.
I ride it for as long as I can and fuck, God Jesus Krishna that was…
I blink, panting, and look at the man that I’m clutching so hard, I only realize now my fingernails are digging like talons into his shoulder.
But Jackson looks just as destroyed as me. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing so hard his chest moves up and down like a bellows. He wraps his arms around me so tight I can barely breathe and he buries his face in my breasts, kissing and licking and teasing and laughing. The next second, he collapses backwards on the bed, taking me with him.
I’m laughing too and I have no goddamn idea why. We just lie like that for several minutes, laughing and holding one another. His face stays buried in my breasts, so there’s no awkward looking into one another’s eyes. I couldn’t handle that right now. I— There’s just too much— That was—
Finally Jackson rolls me so that my back is on the bed. He gets up. “Be back in a sec.”
I close my eyes and then throw my arm over them for good measure. “What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper to myself.
“Did you say something?” Jackson’s suddenly back.
“No,” I say too quickly.
I don’t move my forearm from my eyes. At least not until I feel something warm between my legs. I jerk and sit up on my elbows until I look down and see that Jackson has a warm, wet towel that he’s cleaning me up with.
I blink. Oh shit. There’s something to clean up. We didn’t use a condom. “I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” The panicked words spill out of my mouth. I’m religious about my use of condoms and usually insist on using ones I’ve bought instead of trusting a man, ever since that one tore with David and he admitted he’d been using ones from an old box he had lying around. Nine months later? Enter Charlie into the world.
But Jackson’s happy, contented smile doesn’t change. “I wasn’t worried. I’m clean too. I would never endanger you if I wasn’t.”
“But you couldn’t have known I was on the pill.”
<
br /> He doesn’t say anything but unlike most guys, he doesn’t look freaked the fuck out at the implications of what I just said.
Which freaks me the fuck out. I just stare at him for another long second with him calmly holding my gaze.
“My job description is to worship you.” He holds up the warm towel and cocks an eyebrow. “Can I get back to it now?”
I lie back on the bed again. Because seriously. What’s a girl to say to that? And what happens now? We just had super intense sex. Now do I head off to a guest bedroom somewhere?
Jackson finishes, disappears for another second and then is back. “Move over.”
I look up at him again, eyebrows dropped in confusion.
“Over,” he says and his Dom voice is back.
I grumble a little under my breath but scoot over. He pulls back the covers on the big bed.
“Now here,” he swirls his finger to demonstrate that I should roll back.
“We’re going to sleep here? In the,” for some ridiculous reason I lower my voice, “the sex room?”
He laughs and for the first time all night, or morning or whatever time it is, I can see how tired he actually is. His eyes are drooping and his scruffy five o’clock shadow that felt so amazing between my legs is even darker and more pronounced, definitely a six a.m. shadow.
“No windows,” he says. “Best place in the house to sleep after I’ve pulled an all-nighter.”
He tugs me close, then pulls the silken sheet over us.
“Sleep,” he whispers, and just like the rest of his commands all night, I obey.
* * *
Hot kisses at the back of my neck wake me. It’s dark. Completely dark. My whole body tenses, ready to scream and fight. Just as I make a fist and jerk my elbow forward so I can deliver a punishing gut-blow to whatever fucker got me in this vulnerable position, I smell it. Woods. Pine.
Jackson.
Memories of last night fled back in. I’m with Jackson. I’m safe.
“Babe?” he questions, his kisses pausing. He must’ve felt the tension tighten my body.
I turn my head and meet his mouth with mine. For about point two seconds I think about morning breath, but all thought is quickly swallowed up by sensation. The fear-followed-by-arousal is also disturbingly erotic.
