“Oh, look! They have the original designs of the comics!” I say once we reach the top, pointing to one of the first glass cases.
For the next two hours, Jeremy and I are like kids in a candy store, moving from one exhibit to the next. The original comic drawings, the set designs, and costumes from the major motion pictures are all on display. Of course my attention is piqued even more once we reach Storm’s costume and featured comics.
“You know, I hate that they had Halle Berry play her in the movies,” I somewhat whisper to Jeremy as we make the final rounds of the exhibit some two hours later.
“Why?” he asks, wrapping his arm around my lower back.
I fall into his embrace, not even realizing how familiar his touch has become over the course of this date. I’m pretty sure a minute hasn’t gone by that he hasn’t had his hand on me in some way, whether it was a hand at my lower back, gripping my hand, or brushing a stray hair out of my face as I look over an exhibit. I’ve never had someone pay such close attention to me. Not this way, at least. It feels good.
“Because.” I shrug, semi embarrassed at my reason. We begin to descend the stairs.
“Because is not an answer,” he clarifies in an admonishing tone.
I sigh, unsure of how I want to answer his original question, but realizing I had opened myself up for it. “I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Try me.”
I feel less reluctant to open up when I don’t get the impression he’s offended by my last remark. He appears more amused. I remain quiet for a few more seconds. Once we reach the museum’s exit, I decide to go for it. Holding my head up to stare at Jeremy’s penetrating gaze, I begin to explain. “I told you before that seeing Storm for the first time was somewhat life-changing for me. She was a beautiful and strong dark skinned woman, but vulnerable at the same time because of her past. Yeah, her eyes were blue and her hair grey, but she was undeniably a woman with a dark complexion. And for someone like me who didn’t have many images of women who shared my skin tone, it meant a lot. So for Hollywood to cast Halle Berry, who definitely does not have dark skin, because she is bi-racial, it just—”
“Felt like a letdown,” he states, finishing my thought.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“You thought I wouldn’t understand that?”
Feeling slightly chastised, I answer truthfully. “No.”
“Because I’m white?”
I flinch at the honesty in his question, but to my surprise I don’t see anger in his eyes. I see amusement. That makes giving him an answer a little easier. “Yes,” I respond truthfully as we exit the museum. “Honestly, you have more representation in popular media than someone who looks like me, especially when I was growing up. So yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d get it or not.”
He tilts his head upward as if he’s considering my words. “I get it. Images like mine, the white male, are represented more prevalently in the media and in this society overall. I never had to worry about someone misrepresenting Wolverine’s comic book with an actor who looks nothing like him. I remember my foster mom talking about representation when I was younger. She was a huge fan of Nichelle Nichols.”
“Uhura!” I blurt out.
Instead of being annoyed by my interruption, he bursts out laughing at my giddiness. The sound causes something in my chest to tighten.
“Yup.” He opens the car door for me.
I climb inside. It takes me a second to even realize he’d said foster mom. It’s the first time he’s mentioned anything about his childhood to me aside from his mother’s abandonment.
“Were you close to her?” I ask as he gets in the car.
He looks at me confused for a second. “My foster mom?”
I nod.
He pauses before answering. “Yes.”
I decide to not question it further because I’ve picked up on his hesitance. “Are you taking me home?” I ask, changing the topic.
“Not yet. As I recall there were a couple of assignments I had for you that we need to discuss in private.”
I clench my thighs together in anticipation and fear.
Chapter Nine
Jeremy
The motion sensor lights immediately turn on as I pull up in the driveway of my home. I turn to look at the expression of surprise mixed with hesitance on LaTasha’s face. I press the button to raise the garage door and pull in. Wordlessly, I open the door, hop out, and go around to open LaTasha’s door for her. I’m pleased when I see her wait for me to open the door instead of getting out on her own. It’s a small gesture, but it shows she knows how to follow rules and I don’t have to repeat myself. As for why I decided to bring LaTasha to my home instead of the usual hotel suite where I take my subs, is an issue I choose not to entertain right now.
“You brought me to your home.” If her face wasn’t so expressive already, the surprise in her voice would definitely give her away.
“I said we needed to talk privately.”
“Right. You did say that.”
“Come on,” I say, leading her through the door that enters the mudroom. Once there, I remove the suit jacket I’d been wearing and hung LaTasha’s purse up on one of the wooden wall hangers. “Would you like anything to drink?” I ask. As we enter the living room the lights turn on automatically.
“Some water would be great.”
“Coming right up. Have a seat.” I gesture toward the large leather couch. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I turn and retrieve two bottles of water from my refrigerator, returning in less than a minute. I observe Tasha sitting, but she’s noticeably uptight. I study her while she looks around the room, admiring the stone fireplace, huge saltwater fish tank, and the rest of the earth tone décor.
“Here’s your water.” I twist the cap off and hand it to her before placing my bottle on a coaster on the glass coffee table close to the couch. Coming to stand in front of her, I kneel on one knee. I hide my smirk when her eyes widen.
“W-what are doing?”
For a second, I fear she’s going to choke on her water. “Hand me your foot.”
“What?”
“Love, you know I don’t like repeating myself and I know you heard me the first time.”
She stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind for a few seconds before offering me her foot. I reach for it, removing her shoe I have no doubt she purchased especially for our date. I begin to rub her stocking-clad foot. A few seconds later, I reach for the other foot, which LaTasha offers up less reluctantly than the first one. Removing that shoe, I begin massaging both feet simultaneously. At first, she sighs lightly, but as I increase the pressure, soft moans emit from her throat. When my cock begins stirring in my pants because of those sounds, I know it’s time to end this little massage.
“How did you know my feet were hurting like hell?”
I chuckle. “Lucky guess.” I stand, moving toward the fireplace to light it before I join her on the couch. “Did you enjoy the museum?”
The slow grin that spreads over her beautiful face answers my question before her words do. “Are you kidding? Thank you for taking me.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s discuss those assignments.”
“Okay.”
She begins nibbling on her lower lip. “LaTasha, I’m sure you don’t know what you’re doing to me every time you bite your lip. You’re not ready for everything that lip is making me feel, so for both our sakes, I suggest you stop.”
Her eyes bulge, and for a second I think she’s going to continue to challenge me. Oh, how I wish she would. It would make my plans for the night much easier. Unfortunately, she slowly releases her lip from her teeth’s grips. I must stand to put some distance between us.
I retrieve my water bottle to take a sip as I stare off into the fire. I attempt to gather my thoughts for a minute. “Back to those assignments,” I say, finally turning to her.
“Oh yeah…” She nods. “What do you want to know?” She’s avoiding eye
contact, which tells me she hasn’t finished them. I’d already suspected as much.
“How were the Ben Wa balls?” I ask first, knowing that was the easier of the two assignments.
“Honestly, they were a little uncomfortable at first, but I wore them as you requested. I even did a little research on them and found there are exercises that go along with them. Did you know there’re women who actually lift weights with their uh…pelvic muscles?”
I chuckle at the expression on her face.
“Anyway, they’re getting better.”
I incline my head towards her, pleased. “And the writing?”
That question causes her to break eye contact again, taking another sip of her water. “Um, well, I tried.”
“You tried?” I raise an eyebrow.
She nods.
“Love,” I warn.
“Yes, I tried,” she immediately confirms. “But the words still wouldn’t flow.”
“So you didn’t complete the assignment?” I replace my water bottle on the table and come to stand in front of her, towering over her.
“No.”
“Stand up.”
She hesitates and just as my irritation at her lack of compliance grows, she slowly rises, but bends down to grab her shoes first.
“Leave them. Follow me,” I say, turning to suppress the urge to touch her. I walk down the hall and down the spiral staircase that leads to my playroom. I turn back once I reach the door to make sure she is behind me. I don’t admit out loud that this is a momentous occasion. This will be the very first time that anyone besides me will enter this room. I’ve owned this house for five years and spent that same amount of time creating this room to fit the image in my mind. I never realized until this moment that I was waiting for the right sub to show it to. Turning the knob, I open the door and the light illuminates the space. I hear LaTasha’s breath catch as I step aside to allow her entrance.
“This is my playroom. Well, it’s one of them.”
I watch as she steps inside, looking around at all the floggers, paddles, and collars hanging on the wall. Her hand grazes the steel pole that’s erected in the center of the room. I can tell she’s intrigued, which serves to heighten my own arousal. Seeing her in this space does something more to me than I’d ever imagined.
“We need to discuss punishments,” I finally say, low.
“Punishments?” Those big, honey eyes look at me questioningly.
“Yes. I gave you an assignment and you failed to complete it. That cannot go unpunished.” I run my finger along her jaw line, needing to touch her. “We’ve already talked about your hard lines and I’ve told you I’m not into sadomasochism. Punishments aren’t meant to cause pain. Not always,” I say that last part around a mischievous grin. “But failure to complete an assignment is an offense that can’t be tolerated.” I stroll over to the wall toward the hanging floggers. I’ve lost count of the total number I own. Each serves their own purpose. I pick up my red and black flogger with the leather one-inch wide falls. Perfect for this occasion.
“There are many ways I can punish you, but for this occasion, I think a flogger is the most fitting.” I come to stand in front of her.
She continues to stare at me, anticipating my next move. When she doesn’t run screaming, I take that as a positive sign.
“I’m going to bind your wrists with my silk scarf and turn you to face the wall.” I pull one of my drawers open and remove a purple silk scarf I just purchased the week before when I realized I loved the look of purple against her skin. “Hold out your wrists.”
Hesitantly, LaTasha obliges. I tie a double knot, securing her wrists together. Next, I lead her over to the large king size bed. “It’s not too tight, is it?”
“N-no,” she assures me.
“Tell me why you weren’t able to complete the assignment I gave you?” I ask, turning her toward the wall. “Raise your arms and grab the bar above your head.”
She raises her gaze to stare at the bar before raising bound hands to grip it. Her movements are stiff and hesitant, but her compliance speaks volumes regarding trust. “Writer’s block,” she answers.
“Okay, before we get started, you need to tell me your safe word.”
“Safe word?”
“Yes. What is the word you want to use if I go too far or you become uncomfortable?”
“Wolverine.”
My chest tightens. “Wolverine it is.”
“Since this will be our first time, I’ll allow you to keep your clothes on. And I’m going to use a less intense flogger. You will receive five lashes and you’ll count out loud. Understand?”
She nods.
“Love,” I growl.
“S-sorry. I mean, yes. Understood.”
“Turn your head toward the wall, but keep your eyes open.”
When she obeys, I take a step back, putting enough distance between us to allow the flogger to do its job. I lift my hand and send the flogger down in one swift swing, landing right across her buttocks. The sound reverberates around the room, and Tasha gasps.
“One,” she sounds off.
I sigh in relief, a warm feeling overtaking me as I raise my hand again.
“T-two.” Her voice has taken on a husky undertone.
My lower region reacts at her sensual tone.
“Threeee.”
“Two more, doll,” I say, angling my body a little different to ensure I hit a different spot on her plump buttocks.
“F-fourrr,” she purrs after the fourth strike, her ass bouncing back as if begging for more.
My cock is rock hard just from the deep emotion—both pleasure and fear—I hear in her voice. Her body’s reaction to this tells me she was made for what I’m doing to her. Goddamn!
“Fiiiive.”
With my final swing, I drop the flogger at my side and reach up to untie her from the metal bar. Turning her to face me, I crush my lips to hers. She eagerly accepts my kiss, opening her mouth for me. I nibble and bite at her lips before I dive back in, consuming her whole. There is no half-assing anything with this woman.
“Turn around,” I order hoarsely after pulling back.
I reach for her zipper trying to ignore the trembling in my own fingers. Lowering the zipper, I push the sides of her romper down her arms. I bend down, biting the back of her shoulder, needing to see if she tastes as good as her skin promises. She’s even better.
“Mmm…”
I grin at the pleasure she experiences from me gnawing on her flesh. I pull back, savoring the small imprint my bite has left on her shoulder. Without wasting much more time, I push the romper to the floor, bringing her panties and nude stockings down with it.
“I’m going to tie your wrists again once we’re on the bed. Are your wrists okay? Not sore are they?” I already knew I hadn’t tied them tight enough to cause any real discomfort, but I still want to check in.
“They’re fine,” she answers as I turn her to face me again.
I lead her to the bed, lay her down, and use the silk scarf to bind her wrists to the metal headboard above her head. I take a step back to take in the sight before me. I’ve had this dream many times over the last few months, but none of them even compare to reality. I take in the uncertainty in LaTasha’s eyes, and the way that bottom lip trembles with anticipation. The rise and fall of her breasts, tipped off by the hardened nipples, are barely able to be contained by the lacy bra that I haven’t removed. Her belly is slightly rounded. I’m surprised when I see a small gold hoop attached to her belly button, but I make my face remain neutral as my eyes glide over the rest of her body. The buildup of tension in the room is apparent the longer I remain quiet, simply staring. I know her mind is conjuring up all types of fears and scenarios. I thrive on that feeling of uncertainty I feel emanating off her.
“Plant your feet on the bed and spread your legs,” I finally tell her as I come to stand at the end of the bed.
Slowly, she opens her legs.
Goddamn. I
can see the moisture pooled between her thighs. She was turned on from my flogger. I’m sure I’ve just been shown the gateway to heaven, I think as I take in her pretty pink pussy. My first instinct is to listen to my cock and find my way home deep inside her, but tonight isn’t about me. Tonight, I want her to know what she can expect as my sub. She’s already gotten a little taste of my flogger. That was as far as I had thought I’d go, but I need to have at least a taste of her. Again, I look over her entire body before my eyes settle on the wetness that is evident on the hairs that cover her mound.
“Wider.”
She extends the gap, exposing more of herself to me.
“You are everything I thought you would be. How could you have ever doubted my attraction to you?” The reverence in my voice can’t be mistaken. I remove my loafers and crawl on the bed toward her, settling my body between her legs. “Tonight, I finally get to taste exactly what I’ve been dreaming about for months.” The words fall from my lips before I can stop them. Sitting back on my haunches, I reach to spread her wetness to her clit.
Another sharp intake of her breath sends a chill down my spine. I finally bend down, and tongue her bulging clit, circling it.
“Ahhhh,” Tasha gasps and attempts to scoot back.
Pushing her legs further apart and encircling my arms around her upper thighs so she can’t move away from me, I look up at her face. “Don’t ever try to run from me.” My tone is sharp. I lower my head again, circling her clit once more with my tongue before putting my entire mouth on her. When I do, I know there is no way I won’t become addicted to her taste. The moans and sharp inhales sounding above me only intensify my efforts. I suck on her outer labia, making sure to touch every part of her delicious pussy with my mouth. It takes me a little while to realize that the moans I’m hearing are not only coming from LaTasha, but from me as well. I hear her straining against the restraint above her head, and now instead of running from the pleasure, she is pushing her clit against my face. When I feel her inner thighs begin to quiver, I know she is close.
My Storm Page 10
