by Rebel Rose
I’m still angry with Tristan for allowing Claudia to stay in his house. “No.”
His brow lifts. “No?”
“I don’t want her here after the shit that she pulled, and things will not be okay between us again until you send her away.”
“Things will be okay between us again if she leaves?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Consider her gone.”
I almost melt when I hear those words. He’s bending for me, and I think that it’s only fair for me to do the same. “I’ll stay with you tonight.”
“Would you like to take a bath together?”
I took a bath an hour ago, but I just had my ass reamed. Things feel a little out of sorts, and I think that immersing in water would feel good. “I would love to soak the bum.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Not pain. It just feels… not the same.”
“I loved fucking you in the ass. It was singlehandedly the most amazing fuck that I’ve ever had. Nothing has ever topped that experience.”
I was a little afraid that he had built it up in his mind to be this fantastic experience and that it would fall flat for one reason or another. But he says that I’m the best fuck that he’s ever had. That’s saying a lot, considering how much sex he’s had.
“I can’t say that I loved anal. It hurt at first. A lot. But it did feel good toward the end.”
“It was good enough that you came.”
“I certainly did.” Like a stick of dynamite.
“I don’t want tonight to be the last time that we do that.”
I smile. “We’ll see.”
“You’re using my own words on me, bebelle. I like it.”
Tristan and I soak in his claw-foot tub until our skin prunes and the stinging hot water turns lukewarm. He helps me out of the tub and then wraps me in a fluffy white towel like I’m a child. And it’s not the first time that he’s treated me like a child tonight.
He pulled me onto his lap and rocked me when I was hurting. His caress didn’t comfort the pain in my nipples or the tenderness in my ass, but it did soothe me emotionally. And I liked it very much.
I think about the dynamics of our relationship as I brush my teeth. He hurts me because he needs that for his satisfaction, and then he soothes me afterward, which is what I need for my satisfaction. I’m beginning to understand how a Dom-sub relationship can be truly satisfying—as long as a still-interested ex-submissive isn’t in the picture. I’ll never be okay with that.
We finish brushing our teeth, and Tristan moves behind me. He kisses my bare shoulder while I watch him in the bathroom mirror. He looks up and our eyes meet as he pushes my hair away from the side of my neck, leaving a trail of kisses to that sweet spot below my ear.
And fuck me, I melt against him.
He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and glides his hand around my waist until it’s cupping me between my legs. His fingers toy with the nub at the top of my slit, and I’m astonished by how well he knows my body and what it needs to reach the ultimate pleasure.
With his free hand, he reaches for my chin, grasping it and forcing me to watch our reflections in the mirror. “Look at me. I want to see your face when you come.”
I grasp his wrist and open my mouth, sucking two of his fingers into my mouth. I suck hard and my subdued moan vibrates around his fingers. Feeling the soft flesh of his skin and tissue but firmness of his bones between my teeth, I have a sudden desire to bite down. And I do. He hisses and then I soothe my bite with a suck and lick.
My skin tingles as I imagine his mouth licking me. His hands worshipping me. His cock stretching me.
I need him.
Now.
“I want to feel you inside of me.”
He presses a kiss to the side of my face. “I’m sorry, but I just gave you twenty keys. I can’t afford another tonight.”
“No key.” He’s sending Claudia away, and that has made me very happy. I’m feeling generous. And horny.
He smiles, and I see how happy he is with my offer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, but we do it my way.” I twist in his arms and drape my hands over his shoulders. “I want it slow and sweet, on the bed, and face-to-face.”
He nods slowly and placing his hands on my hips, uses them to guide me, kissing en route on the way to the bed. “I can do that.”
I know he can do it. He’s already demonstrated that he can do it very well, but I want him to want to do it.
And I shouldn’t. Desiring such things could destroy me. I know this, and yet it doesn’t change the way I feel.
Tristan stops midway and cups my ass, lifting me so I’m straddling him with my legs around his waist. He carries me to the bed and lowers our bodies together, his body lying on top of me. I love the feel of his weight pressing me into the bed.
His hand glides up the side of my body and cups my breast from the underside, his thumb lightly circling my nipple. “I won’t ever ask you to wear the nipple clamps again.”
“I would try them again but maybe just not so tight next time.”
His lips claim the side of my neck while his hand navigates its way down my body. It dips between my legs, rubbing up and down, petting me. I part my legs wide, giving him full access to my body, and my shallow breath moves in and out of my chest quickly as I anticipate his next move.
He pushes a finger through my slick center and back up once in a slow, torturous stroke that barely grazes my clit. I’m desperate for more, so I impatiently move against his fingers.
He chuckles. “You need more, huh?”
“A lot more.”
He rubs his fingers up and down, every upward stroke applying direct pressure to my clit. “Feel good?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He changes his technique and rubs me in a circular motion. My back arches off the bed, and my legs fall even farther apart. A soft whine slips from my mouth when Tristan stops and moves to kneel between my legs. But I know what’s coming and I’m elated.
He presses his lips to my inner thigh and trails kisses up my trembling legs. It’s impossible to stop squirming beneath him. He moves upward and nibbles the skin of my groin, making me involuntarily convulse, before he grabs my thighs and pushes them back and apart.
He places his tongue against my center and drags it in an upward sweep. Slow. Soft. So good I want to scream.
“Want things nice and slow like this?”
“Mmm-hmm. I like that a lot.”
The movement of his tongue continues—light, gentle, careful. All of the nerves around my clit and vagina are highly responsive to the new sensations. It’s only taking a small amount of pressure and movement to stimulate me toward orgasm.
“Feels so good, Tristan.”
The sensation in my pelvis climbs and then tops out, causing my legs to tense and toes to curl. Tingly warmth floods my face, neck, hands, and feet as I ride my orgasm to its fullest extent.
I allow my legs to slide down the mattress until they’re outstretched when my orgasm ends. “That was so good.”
Tristan licks my blissful pussy one last time and then crawls up my body. He lies on top of me once we’re face-to-face, the brunt of his weight supported by his arms pressed into the mattress on each side of my head. His breath is a mixture of mint and me.
I put my fingers in the back of his hair and toy with the short bristles along his neckline as he settles between my legs and reaches for his cock. But I want to slow this down. “Kiss me the way you would if you loved me. Like you would if I really were Mrs. Broussard and you adored me.”
I want to see what a Dom considers love, even if it is pretend.
He stills for a moment, his eyes locked on mine, and I expect him to refuse at any moment. But he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me with so much passion that I feel as though I could black out.
When he stops kissing me, I bend my knees and let them fall apart to accommodate his b
ody. He guides his erection to my entrance and pushes into me gently until he’s fully sheathed. He closes his eyes and lightly groans. “I don’t care how we do it. Fast. Slow. Hard. Soft. You always feel like pure heaven.”
His pace is unhurried. He pulls back with leisure and gently advances into me again. I rock my hips away when he pulls back and tilt them upward when he thrusts. The movement comes naturally without any thought at all.
“I’m going to come.”
I wrap my legs around him and dig my heels into the cheeks of his ass, pressing my pelvis and groin to his. “I want it deep inside me.”
He’s motionless with his cock inside me as deep as possible. And that’s how he stays for the next several minutes—inside me, unmoving except for more passionate kisses like the ones that made me nearly black out.
His forehead presses to mine when he stops kissing me, and we stay that way with him on top of me. With him inside me.
“You know how you need domination? Well, I need connection and affection. Even if it’s not real, I need to feel it.”
He kisses my mouth and pulls out of me slowly. “If there’s anything that I understand, it’s need. And I want you to have what you need.”
He lies beside me and pulls me closer so I can place my head on his chest. His arm wraps around me and I toss my leg over his. I imagine we must resemble a pair of vines intertwining with each other.
I feel his heart pounding hard against my face, but it can’t be from strenuous activity. He didn’t fuck me fast and furious. This Dom’s heart is racing for another reason.
“I want you to move into my bedroom.”
I lift my face from his chest and our eyes lock. “Are you sure you want that?” He has never allowed a submissive to stay in his room.
“I’m sure that I want to fall asleep with you beside me every night, and I want to wake and see your face every morning.”
“Okay.”
29
Tristan Broussard
We’re two months into this deal. The inevitable is going to happen any day now. She gets closer to pulling that key every time we fuck. I know this, and yet I can’t stop having her. I try. God knows that I try, but it’s useless.
I don’t even know how many times that I’ve squeaked by without her pulling a key. Vanilla nights. That’s what we call our tame encounters. I treat her like my queen, but then there are times when I need to be a hard-core Dom. Can’t lie. I fuck her in the ass and treat her like a whore. And she lets me… because she likes it.
My little submissive is gradually becoming everything that I had hoped for. And I don’t know what I’ll do when she pulls that damn key.
I could go into the box and take it out. That ensures that she’ll be here a while longer, but it’s only temporary. And I risk her being furious if she figures out what I’ve done.
I could come up with another blackmail scheme. Or just stick to the one I have and go back on my word to clear her debt. And again, risk her being furious with me.
Or I could let her go because I care more about her happiness than my own.
I’m a selfish bastard, and I won’t apologize for that. I also won’t apologize for the intense desire I have to keep Emma Lia in my life. She’s literally the best thing in it. Ever.
And I can’t let her go.
“You are cruel, Tristan Broussard.” Her words are little more than a pant and whisper as she tugs on the ropes securing her to the bed frame.
I admit that I get off on tormenting her this way—bringing to the edge of orgasm and then taking it away. Because I know how explosive her orgasm will be in the end when I give in and allow her to finally come.
“Your orgasm is coming, but you must be patient and let it come when I decide you’re ready.”
“But I’m not patient. I want to come now,” she groans.
“I know, bebelle. And you will…when I decide the time is right. Because…?”
“Because I am yours to do with as you please.”
“That’s right, my good girl. Now tell me again that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Tristan.”
I spank the fleshy part of her hips, really only a light tap as a reminder. “Master.”
She smiles, and I know that her saying my name instead of Master wasn’t a slip. My girl likes the sting of my palm smacking her flesh.
“I’m yours, Master.”
This has been the best month of my life. Claudia’s moving out was a game changer for my relationship with mon bebelle. Had I known that my former submissive’s departure would bring on this kind of change in Emma Lia, I would have insisted that Claudia go to Easton’s the day that Emma Lia moved in.
I lie on my side, stretched out next to Emma Lia, and pet her crotch. “Tell me, bebelle. How does your pussy feel?”
“Thoroughly teased and tormented and tortured.”
She has no idea how much that pleases me. I part her lips, find her clit, and pinch it between my thumb and index finger.
“Oh God. It’s too much… too sensitive.”
I’m sure it is. I used a clitoris pump on her earlier, and the little nub is swollen from the rough treatment it has undergone.
“Okay, sweet bebelle.”
I watch her face as I insert two fingers into her vagina and massage that walnut-feeling nodule of sexual nerves in the roof of her pussy. “Better?”
“Omigod, yesss.”
I advance my fingers deeper, my fingertips grazing the string of her IUD, and I’m reminded of what Cat told me about leaving it alone and everything would be fine. But if I pull the string, the birth control device could come out. And Emma Lia could become pregnant.
A pregnancy.
A baby. Our baby.
I’d have her. And when she pulls the working key, it won’t matter. She wouldn’t leave me if we were having a baby.
She. Wouldn’t. Leave. Me.
But she would be furious when she figured out that I was responsible. She might hate me for making that kind of choice without her. If she found out.
The consequences of my decision would be a life-altering change for both of us. Would I consider doing something so extreme? Create an innocent life to be used as a pawn for holding onto the woman that I’m obsessed with? I realize how demented it is, even for a ruthless bastard like me.
But I always get what I want. And I’m not ruling anything out at this point.
30
Emma Lia Grant
Three days without Tristan. Fuck, I didn’t think it was possible to miss him so much in such a short amount of time.
A problem popped up with the Vegas project, and he wanted me to go. Ordered me. Commanded me. He may have even resorted to a small amount of begging and pleading, but I couldn’t skip out on my nana. Not when it’s her seventy-fifth birthday.
I’ve enjoyed spending time with my family and friends these last few days. Being back in Biloxi has been fun, but I miss Tristan. I miss New Orleans. And he misses me based on his last text.
Tristan: I should be home by 7:00. I want you in our bedroom on your knees, ready to suck my cock when I walk through the door. And I want it deep.
Emma Lia: Do you want me naked or wearing lingerie?
Tristan: Naked. I don’t have the patience for undressing you tonight.
Emma Lia: I will be ready for you, Master. Naked and kneeling, my mouth eager for your cock.
Tristan: That’s my good girl.
Oh, Tristan. There isn’t another man in the world like him.
Most women would be insulted or offended by his harsh words, but his orders only manage to make me wet with anticipation. But there are two words in his text that stand out to me like none other.
Our bedroom.
There is no longer Tristan’s bedroom with his submissive’s bedroom next door. We share one room. One bed. One bathroom. We have breakfast together in the mornings, and then he goes to work, leaving me at home like a trophy wife. He comes home in the evenings, and we share
dinner before going to bed and fucking like savages. Unless it’s a vanilla night. He’s been offering those to me more and more lately. At first, I thought it was so he could get laid without giving me a key pull, but I’m beginning to think that he enjoys vanilla more than I do.
We live like a married couple, except kinkier. And I like it. I’m content with being Tristan’s submissive… who he often fucks in the ass.
Seven o’clock approaches, and I take my place on the floor beside our bed. I know that I might have to stay this way for a while, but Tristan will reward me when he sees the reddened impressions on my knees and lower legs.
I’ve only been on my knees for a few minutes when there’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Miss…”
It’s Ray’s voice at the door. “Just a minute,” I call out.
I panic mildly as I quickly pull on a pair of yoga pants and oversized T-shirt. Ray never comes to our bedroom for any reason.
I answer the door and Ray’s face is apologetic. “I’m sorry to bother you when Mr. Broussard is on his way home, but his father has just arrived. I thought that you might want to receive him since you’re the lady of the house.”
The lady of the house? I guess that must be a nice way of calling me the woman who is currently fucking the gentleman of the house.
“Yes. I should receive him, but not like this. Would you tell him that I’ll be out in a moment?”
“Certainly, miss.”
I change quickly into a casual dress and ballerina flats, leaving my hair and makeup as it is. Thank goodness I was ready for Tristan’s arrival so that much is done.
I’m suddenly nervous as I descend the stairs to meet the man that my father wanted me to avoid. And I still don’t know why. Perhaps meeting Mr. Broussard will shed some light on that.
Ray is standing at the bottom of the stairs when I reach the first floor. “He’s waiting in the library.”
“Thank you.”
Tristan’s father is standing with his back to me, holding the photo of Tristan with his mother, but he spins around rapidly when he hears the creak of the wood plank flooring beneath my feet.
Despite the thirty-something-year age gap, I’m immediately taken aback by Tristan’s resemblance to him. By blood, this man is the brother of Tristan’s mother. I wouldn’t have expected him to share so many similarities. It’s like seeing a preview of what Tristan will look like in his sixties.
