The Submissive

by Erotic Romance

  Nathaniel smiled and thanked me.

  I made a phone call after he left.

  Dinner wasn’t as unsettling as I thought it might be. Apollo stood outside waiting for me, as if he knew I’d be coming. He nearly knocked me over when I stepped out of the car.

  “Apollo, please,” Nathaniel scolded, coming outside and wiping his hands on a towel. “You must forgive him, Abby, he’s been excited all day.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said, walking up the stairs to join Nathaniel. “What are you cooking?”

  He leaned over, kissed me, and said with a glimmer in his eyes, “Honey almond chicken.”

  “Mmm. My favorite.”

  “Come inside. It’s nearly ready.”

  The chicken was just as tender and tasty as I remembered. Conversation flowed freely and Apollo stayed by my side the entire time, often lying at my feet.

  When we both finished eating, Nathaniel stood up to take our plates to the sink.

  “Let me help,” I said, hopping up.

  “I can get it.”

  “But I don’t mind.”

  So he washed and I dried. It reminded me of our snowed-in week—working together, laughing. I put the last dish away and eyed the countertop.

  I turned to him. “Nathaniel—”

  “Abby—” he said at the same time.

  We laughed.

  “You first,” I said.

  He walked over to me and took my hand. “I just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight. Apollo hasn’t been so calm in months.”

  I pushed back from the counter. “Well, I’m glad for Apollo, but he’s not the only reason I came over tonight.”

  “I know.” His thumb stroked my knuckles.

  I stepped closer to him. “Trust me, I’m a pretty selfish creature.”

  He lifted a hand to my face and traced my jaw with his index finger. “You’re not. You’re kind and loving and forgiving and—”

  “Nathaniel.”

  He put a finger on my lips. “Stop. Let me finish.”

  I took a deep breath and waited.

  “You’ve brought my life so much joy, you’ve made me feel complete.” His voice dropped. “I love you, Abby.”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “Nathaniel,” I said when I had my voice back. “I love you, too.”

  “Abby,” he groaned and pulled me into his arms. His lips crushed mine and he kissed me with all the pent-up longing of the last several weeks.

  I snaked one hand down his back and pushed the fingers of the other into his hair. I titled my head to better fit our mouths together.

  His lips nibbled their way up my cheek to my ear. “Tell me to stop, Abby,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

  “Don’t.” My eyes closed. “Don’t stop.”

  He ran his hands down my arms, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. “I don’t want you to think I brought you here for this.” He bit on my earlobe. “I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you.”

  I trusted him. If I told him to stop, I knew he would. He would pull away and we would continue talking. We would have a nice evening and he would kiss me soundly before I left for the night. Life would proceed the way it had for the last several weeks.

  Or…

  I pulled away from his embrace and smiled sweetly at him. He looked a bit shocked. He obviously hadn’t expected me to pull back.

  I held my hand out. “Follow me.”

  He took my hand and followed me as I walked up the stairs to his bedroom. I blinked back tears when I saw his bed, so many memories. But then again, so many memories still to make.

  He lifted a hand to my face. “Abby,” he said. “My beautiful, perfect Abby.” He leaned down and kissed me—a long, passionate, open-mouthed kiss. When the kiss became more urgent, he broke away.

  “Let me love you.” He lifted me onto the bed with one smooth sweep and pushed me so I was on my back. “I’ll start with your mouth.”

  He nipped at my mouth playfully. Every so often, he dropped a small kiss on my lips. He took his time, slowly stoking the fire in me with his mouth alone. Knowing what I wanted, knowing what he wanted and making us both wait. But finally, he framed my face with his hands and kissed me. Really kissed me. His tongue moving with mine, his lips urgent.

  After several long minutes, he pulled back. “I could kiss your lips for hours and never tire of your taste.” His eyes swept over my body. “But the rest of you is so damn delectable.”

  Slow hands unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it from my shoulders. I arched my back and seconds later the shirt was gone. His mouth went to my neck.

  “I can feel your heart racing.” He took my hand and brought it to his chest. “Feel mine.”

  I felt his heart beat through his shirt. It was frantic.

  I couldn’t help it, I grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his head. I wanted to feel him. On top of me. Under me. In me. Anywhere. Everywhere. My hands slid across his chest and I reacquainted myself with his body. The firmness of his chest. The strength of his arms. The burning need of his expression. And, for the first time, the love shining in his eyes.

  His lips continued their descent down my body. “An often neglected body part is right here,” he said, lifting my arm to his mouth, “the crook of the elbow.”

  Then he peppered feather-light kisses right on that little space of sensitive skin. “It would be an unpardonable sin to overlook this tasty delicacy.” He licked it and my entire body broke out in gooseflesh. I didn’t have time to recover before he bit me gently.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned.

  He gave me an evil grin. “And I’ve only started.”

  He placed more kisses up my arm, across my collarbone, and down between my breasts. With nimble fingers, he removed my bra and threw it away from the bed.

  “Your breasts are perfect. Just the right size. And when I do this,” he rubbed my nipple between his fingers, “your body shakes with anticipation.”

  He knew me so well.

  “Do you know how sweet your breasts taste?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “A shame, really.” He bent his head and sucked me into his mouth. Rolled the tip of his tongue around my nipple. I arched my back as he drew me deeper.

  “More. Please,” I begged as he bit me, the sharpness of his teeth sending shockwaves through my body.

  He moved to the other breast and blew. “Such responsive skin,” he murmured before kissing around the base of my breast. He licked his way upward, stopping when he made it to the nipple. He palmed it with his hand. “And this one? Just as fucking sweet as the other.” And with that his teeth pulled my nipple. I grabbed his head and held him to me.

  I lost track of time as he played with my breasts—nipping, teasing, sucking. At one point, I pulled him up to me and he groaned as I slipped my tongue into his mouth. I lifted my hips, desperate for friction. For something.

  “Wait,” he whispered against my lips. “I haven’t got to the best parts.”

  His hands stroked my belly, igniting the fire under my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair and shifted my legs so they brushed against his hardness.

  He pushed the waistband of my pants down and his tongue circled my bellybutton, dipped into it. “Another overlooked body part,” he said. “Do you know how many nerve endings are found here?”

  No, but I knew he made every last one tingle.

  With measured slowness, he unbuttoned my pants, drew them over my hips and down my legs. I kicked them from the bed and sat up.

  “My turn.” I pushed him onto his back and jerked his pants and boxers off. Then I spent time rediscovering his body—the toned muscles of his chest, the indentations of his stomach, the dusting of hair that led to…

  “Abby,” he sighed as my hands dipped lower and teased his cock.

  “Roll over,” I said, because I loved his back—his sharp shoulder blades with the sensitive skin in between and
the two little dimples right above his tight ass. I kissed a path from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, delighting in the tremor that shook his body. I licked my way back up, hands stroking his utterly perfect body.

  Mine.

  He turned over and carried me with him, so he once again rested on top of me. “I forgot where I was. Now I have to start all over.”

  He began again with my mouth, kissing me until I couldn’t think straight, his hands roaming down my arms. He pulled back. “We discussed your mouth.” He kissed me softly. “And your neck.” Another kiss. “Your overlooked elbows and bellybutton.” He kissed my elbow and stroked my belly with his free hand. “And I definitely remember these.” He dipped his head to my breasts for a long kiss. Or two.

  Or six.

  “Ah, yes, I remember now.” He slid down my body. “Right—” he skirted my hips “—about—” he breezed past where I was swollen and achy “—here.” He grabbed my knee.

  My knee?

  “The knee is an erogenous zone for many people,” he said.

  I had a feeling all my zones were erogenous where Nathaniel was concerned.

  He tickled the top of my knee with soft kisses while he stroked the underside. Then he lifted my leg and kissed the delicate skin behind my knee. I never thought someone kissing my knee would be such a turn-on, but damn if it didn’t make me groan as he switched to the other knee. And licked and kissed some more.

  “Nathaniel,” I moaned, lifting my hips off the bed. “Higher.”

  He ignored me and worked his way lower, stopping at my ankles and placing soft, simple kisses on the inside. Then he lifted first one foot and then the other, kissing the bottom of my feet.

  “Now,” he said, looking up at me with a smirk. “I feel like I forgot something. What was it?”

  “You’re a smart man. I’m sure it’ll come to you.” I bent my knees and spread them.

  His growl was a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations up my spine. He crawled back up the bed, ripped my panties off, and slung both of my legs over his shoulders. His tongue stroked my slit gently and I lifted my hips again.

  “Now right here is an important spot, because this—” he licked me again “—is pure—” lick “—unadulterated—” lick “—Abby.”

  “Dear Lord.”

  “And after I spend hours kissing your mouth—” he spread me with his fingers “—I could spend hours kissing and licking and drinking from your sweet—” lick “—wet—” lick “—pussy.” He put his mouth on me and pushed his tongue inside.

  It had been too long and he had spent too much time teasing me. My orgasm swept over me with the first thrust of his tongue.

  He placed small kisses on my clit and stroked me with his fingers. Ever so gently, he took my legs down from his shoulders and laid them back on the bed.

  He looked like a mountain lion as he crawled back up the bed to me. “Now,” he said, his voice husky. “Let us continue.”

  I gave a sigh of relief as his body covered mine. His weight felt glorious. With one hand, he placed his cock at my entrance. Then he took both my hands and intertwined our fingers.

  “Abby,” he said, and I opened my eyes to see the love and yearning shining from his. “This is me, Nathaniel—” he pushed slightly into me “—and you, Abby—” he pushed more “—nothing else.”

  “Nathaniel.” His name was a sigh from my lips.

  He leaned down and kissed me, slowly bringing our hands above my head. The kiss deepened and he pushed further inside.

  I groaned as he gave one final push and seated himself deep within me. He looked into my eyes as he withdrew and began a slow, drawn-out rhythm.

  Oh, yes. My body remembered this.

  The feel of being stretched. Of him above me. Of the way we moved together as one.

  His fingers squeezed mine as he pushed inside again. He was slow and careful, drawing out every thrust. Timing each one, pulling out and waiting until the very second he knew I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore and then surging inside me again, filling me completely.

  I arched my back, wanting to drive him in further. His muscles were tight and tense, his control betrayed by the sweat breaking out on his forehead.

  “Nathaniel. Please.”

  He quickened his pace, driving faster, but still not fast enough. I pulled my fingers from his and jerked his head toward mine while wrapping my legs around his waist. I lifted my body with each thrust of his and we both let out a moan as he slipped in deeper.

  But he was still too slow.

  I ran my nails down his back, scratching him. “Damn it, Nathaniel.” I bit his ear. “Fuck me.”

  He growled, pulled back, and plunged into me. Pounding me over and over with each long, hard, deep thrust.

  I felt my climax building again.

  His chest heaved as he thrust forward. I threw my head back and dug my nails into his back.

  “Oh, God, Abby!”

  He continued his rhythm, slipping a hand between our bodies and slapping my clit in time with his hips.

  “I’m…I’m…I’m…” I stuttered.

  He thrust one more time and my climax overtook me. I let out a scream as his cock plunged deeply again and again. Another climax shook my body, but he kept pounding away.

  His cock twitched deep inside me. He thrust a few more times, then held perfectly still. He threw his head back and groaned. His release set off another orgasm for me.

  He collapsed on top of me, chest heaving. I felt his heart pounding as he worked to catch his breath.

  Then Nathaniel lifted his head and kissed me.

  Later, when we could move again, he slid off the bed and walked to the dresser. I rolled to my side, the better to watch his naked self as he opened drawers and lit candles. Darkness had fallen, but the room slowly came to light as he lit one candle after another.

  The candlelight played on his skin, casting shadows that flickered over his body. I rolled onto my back when he came back to the bed. He sat up a little and gathered me to him so my head rested on his chest.

  “I didn’t plan for this to happen tonight,” he said, placing soft kisses on my forehead. “Truly, I didn’t.”

  I snuggled down into his arms and sighed. “I’m glad it happened, though. Very glad.”

  His arms tightened around me. “Abby? I know you didn’t bring anything, but would you stay with me tonight?” He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Here, in my bed?”

  In his bed.

  A tear slipped down my cheek. “Nathaniel…”

  He brushed the tear away. “Please. Sleep here. With me.”

  I sat up and kissed him. “Yes,” I said in between kisses. “Yes, I’ll stay.” I pushed him down onto the bed. “But we have hours before it’s even remotely time to think about something as mundane as sleep. So for now—” I traced his lips with my fingertips “—let me start with your mouth.”

  He let out a low moan.

  As we started moving together again, I knew two things:

  Nathaniel loved me.

  And someday, someday very soon, I would wear his collar again.

  I woke to find someone trailing kisses across my collarbone. Soft lips wandered their way up my neck, across my cheekbone, up to my ear. It had been two weeks since I first spent the night in Nathaniel’s bed, and whenever I slept over, he always woke me up in the most delightful ways.

  “Good morning,” Nathaniel whispered, his warm breath tickling me.

  “Mm,” I replied and rolled closer to him as his arms embraced me. Waking up to Nathaniel’s kisses was my new favorite way to start the day.

  “I brought breakfast,” he said.

  Okay, scratch that. Waking up to Nathaniel’s kisses and having him bring me breakfast in bed was my new favorite way to start the day.

  “What did you bring?” I asked, thinking about sitting up.

  “Me.” He kissed one cheek. “Me.” He kissed the other. “And a side dish of me.” He placed a
soft kiss on my lips.

  For as long as I lived, I’d never grow tired of Nathaniel kissing me. But today was a big day for us, for our relationship, and I felt a little playful…

  I rolled away from him. “Well, if that’s all you brought—”

  His strong arms captured me and I giggled as he rolled me back to him.

  “Although,” he said, “if you insist on proper nourishment, I did bring an omelet.”

  I ran both my hands over the expanse of his chest. “No, thanks. On second thought, I’ll take the Nathaniel.”

  He sat up. “I better let you eat before it gets cold.” He brought a tray from his dresser over to the bed and set it before me.

  “For real? You’re not going to join me?”

  He leaned over and kissed me once more. “I ate already and I really should get ready for work. You need to get ready, too.”

  I mock-pouted as he walked off to the bathroom, watching as he stepped out of his pants on his way.

  There were times I forgot how sensitive Nathaniel was. How he took everything so personally. Our relationship had grown by leaps and bounds during the last few weeks, but every once in a while, I caught glimpses of the fragile soul he was.

  I took a bite of omelet. He needed to lighten up a bit. Learn to be more playful. As expected, the omelet was pure heaven on a plate—fluffy eggs, tangy sharp cheddar cheese—one decadent bite after another.

  The sound of running water soon came from the bathroom. Nathaniel. Naked and in a hot shower.

  Now that was pure heaven. No plate needed.

  I ate the rest of the omelet, drank the fresh orange juice, and set the tray back on his dresser before walking into his bathroom.

  Nathaniel’s bathroom was the size of my apartment, and he could host a small cocktail party in his shower. But even with all that, we’d never showered together.

  He stood in the shower, obscured by steam. I knew from experience that two overhead and six side showerheads pounded his body. Whenever I used his shower, I never wanted to leave. Throw Nathaniel in the mix and I doubted either one of us would make it to work on time.