by Lilly Black
“I think that’s a great idea. I’ll ask Nicole to bring me some clothes, and…”
“Actually,” Cain interrupts me with a peculiar smile on his face. “I need to show you the reason for the construction.” He directs my attention to a set of double doors across the hall from the retreat that I had assumed housed the washer and dryer.
“There’s no fainting couch, but I think you’ll find everything you’ll need in here,” he says, throwing the double doors wide open, and I am completely blown away. It’s an enormous room of black marble - the floors, the walls, the vanities. Gorgeous crystal chandeliers hang from a black decorative ceiling, and a flat screen is mounted on the wall over a gas log fire place along the right side. In the middle of the room is a sofa table flanked by leather chairs on both sides as vases overflowing with calla lilies sit on the ends of the table with a wisteria, tiffany-style lamp in the center. To the left of the entrance is an open bath with a built in shower, sinks, and a large, ball and claw footed tub, and inlaid in the middle of the floor is a shiny, silver E in an Edwardian script, a motif I now see repeated throughout, like on the towels that hang on a warming rack by the tub and a stack of napkins by the vanity.
“Since I brought some of my things to keep at your house…” Cain begins, and while I stand in awe, he walks to the wall opposite the entrance and opens one of several frosted doors. “I picked up a few things for you to have here. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Oh, my God, Cain! How could I mind? I wonder as I walk toward him.
“You’ll spoil me,” I say as I look up into his eyes, shining bright blue in the incandescent light.
“I will if you let me,” he says, his hands on my shoulders as he gives me a quick kiss atop the head.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You could start by finding something sexy to wear while I draw you a bath.” As he says it, he indicates another door, which I open to find lingerie - floor length gowns, baby dolls, corsets, and robes of silk, satin, and velvet, mostly black but no leather. When I turn back around, Cain is already gone, leaving me in the middle of his extravagant gift. The closet is almost as beautiful as the thought he put into it, but now that I’m alone, my insecurity begs the question of what the inlaid “E” in this room might have stood for before me.
You’re letting Catherine get inside your head, I tell myself as I go through the drawers to find that everything but the shoes, jewelry, and sunglasses still has the tags. It’s all my size and my taste, and I can faintly smell the scent of new construction. If I have anything to be upset about it is the fact that this man I really barely know has such high sexual expectations of me, but instead, it makes me feel worthy of his desire.
Selecting a severe, black merry widow with black silk stockings and stilettos, I head toward the master bath. Cain meets me outside the door.
“Did I do well?” he asks.
“With the closet? It’s amazing.”
“I meant the clothes.”
“I love everything. When did you do all of this?” I ask.
“When I went back to Boston, I took a detour through New York on the way home and went shopping for you,” Cain says dismissively, minimizing the true inappropriateness of what he’s done. “Are you okay, Evan?”
“How can I not be?”
“After everything that’s happened lately, I just want to make sure you take this in the spirit in which it was intended.”
“And what spirit is that?”
“I want you to have everything your heart desires,” he says, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “But, baby, if you just need me to hold you tonight…”
“That’s not at all what my heart desires,” I say, letting the lingerie drop to the floor as I put my arms around his neck and kiss him. His mouth always tastes like pure, clean water, and my pulse races just feeling his smooth, wet tongue against mine.
When Cain ends the kiss, he opens the bathroom door and leads me inside where a long, jetted tub sits on a pedestal with two steps leading up from the floor. Above it are tea lights in clear glass votives hanging from the ceiling at different heights on lines so thin that they appear to be floating, and I watch them, mesmerized as Cain begins undressing me from behind. He kisses the back of my neck, but as my shirt falls to the floor, a fleeting thought about Catherine threatens to unleash my insecurities.
Why, of all things, did she have to call me a whore?
“I’m yours, Evan,” Cain whispers, knowing exactly what path my mind has taken. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Don’t let her take you away from me.”
The bath is just warm enough as Cain leads me into it by the hand and gives me a warm, gel mask to place over my eyes as I lean back and relax. He sits on the steps at the end of the tub, methodically washing my feet, and when they’re rinsed, he kisses my toes. He has done this before, but I get the impression that the first time was just to gauge my reaction because he’s giving them much more attention now, running his tongue up the underside of my big toe before sucking it into his mouth. It’s torture as my clit aches for the same attention, and he prolongs my suffering, his progress glacial as he kisses me all the way to the back of my knees. He climbs in the tub with me, my legs on his shoulders, his hands under my ass as he forces me up onto a narrow ledge between the tub and the wall. The marble is slippery beneath my wet body, but in his hands, I feel stable.
He gently bites my inner thighs as he works his way to the center, and I can feel his hot breath only inches from my clit before he lets my legs slide down his arms, his mouth skipping forward to kiss my navel instead. It’s deliciously cruel.
“Would you pierce your navel for me?” he asks softly, as he circles it with his tongue.
“What would you do for me in exchange? A piercing? A tattoo?” I’m not serious, but Cain never disappoints.
“You can brand me if you like,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll have it pierced for you.” He moans his approval and slides me back into position, his mouth suddenly just where I want it. As he teases me, he looks up at my face, and though my eyes should be chased away, they’re not as he coaxes me along at his will, gradually building up to the fast, tight circles that I know will make me come. And they do, abruptly and intensely as he lifts me and pushes my legs wide apart now that I’m in too euphoric a state to care.
“Oh, Cain! Oh, God! Oh, Caaaaain!” I scream, and it echoes throughout the bath, spurring me on, his face pressed against me, his tongue frenzied, prolonging the ecstasy until it becomes unbearable. As I begin to retreat, he slides me down into his lap, and I feel him hard beneath me as I notice that he has already pulled the plug to drain the tub.
“Oh, my God, Cain,” I gush breathlessly, my arms and legs tight around him. “You’re so…you’re so fucking…” He laughs at my inarticulateness, knowing he completely owns me now.
“I love making you come,” he whispers, his tongue in my ear and his cock tormenting me. “Do you want fucked?”
“Yes,” I exhale, and he turns me around. Sitting on his knees, he puts me on all fours, his legs between mine as he pulls me back and down onto him, fucking me fast and deep, and after a clitoral orgasm it takes almost nothing for his perfect cock to set me off. I scream, echoing his praises throughout the large, hollow room, and as Cain holds himself deep inside, he digs his fingernails into my back, dragging them from my neck to my ass. I feel myself throbbing, tightening around his cock as my legs violently tremble, lost in an orgasm that seems to last for ages. I writhe and convulse, my mind and body twisted, strained, and corrupted…until finally, it begins to subside, and…
Oh, fuck me, I think. I’ve been cursed since my innocence was stolen from me, and to bring balance, fate has sent me a god!
With my knees aching and my body covered in gooseflesh, he pulls me upright and holds me against him. Sated and high, my body feels heavy, like I could collapse into him and sleep right here on the cold marble
, but that can’t happen. I have but one purpose in life at this moment - to make Cain come.
“Dry me off,” I command.
“Yes, Mistress,” he says, amused.
With a towel around his waist, Cain gently dries me off with another from the wet tips of my hair to my feet. When he’s finished, I order him to lie in the center of the bed and wait for me, and he indulges me, giving me the control I need tonight.
“Now, if I only had some cuffs and tethers…”
“So was that so terrible?” I ask Cain later as we lie in bed.
“It was incomparable,” he says, holding me with one arm, his other still bound to the bedpost.
“I meant letting me be Domme.”
“You meant letting you play Domme.”
“Semantics,” I complain as I release his other wrist.
“No, it wasn’t terrible at all,” he admits.
“Then why are you so resistant to letting me be in charge?”
“Evan, tying me to the bed with your stockings is one thing. Being in control in the dungeon is entirely different.”
“If you think I couldn’t do it, I would very much like to prove you wrong.”
“Tell you what. The day you can stand over me with a whip and speak just three little words, I will submit to you wholly and obediently.”
“And those words are?” I ask suspiciously.
“Eat my pussy,” he says.
“Ewww!”
“You said with cunt off the table, I could call it anything I like.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to say that.”
“You will if you want to be in charge.”
“That’s not fair!” I pout.
“Life’s not fair, little girl,” Cain says.
Cain calls out for Chinese food, and we shower separately. In my bathing area, typical of Cain’s wonderful attention to detail, I find everything I have at home. The shower stall is huge with adjustable jets everywhere and a steam feature, and after a long, hot shower, I slip into a black dressing robe I found hanging on a hook by the towel rack. It’s silk on the outside and fine crushed velvet inside. I feel like I’ve stepped into a dream, and though I know better than to get used to it, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it while it lasts.
When the food arrives, Cain knocks on my door, and I invite him in. He’s wearing pajama pants, but he stops me as I go through my drawers looking for the same.
“Uh-uh,” he says, closing the drawer.
“Can I at least keep the robe?” I ask.
“For now.”
“What about tomorrow? I didn’t notice anything leather in here. What am I supposed to wear?”
“You’ll find an armoire in the dungeon full of corsets and gowns I’ve selected for you.” Knowing the time and attention he invests in dressing me makes me feel cherished. I want to say something to let him know how much I appreciate it, but I end up treating it with my usual finesse.
“And is there an armoire with your wardrobe? Maybe a collar, a leash, a harness…”
“Those are all for submissives, Evan.”
“I know.”
“You’re incorrigible,” he says, leading me by the hand to the bedroom. We eat in bed as he flips through the channels of a TV that comes down from the ceiling, and I’m finally ready to ask him about the one thing his mother said earlier that didn’t make sense to me
“Cain,” I begin, my voice small and apologetic for bringing the bitch up again tonight. “What did your mother mean when she told me she married beneath her station?” Cain shakes his head, sighing.
“It’s something she has hung over my dad’s head as long as I can remember. He comes from a prominent, very wealthy family on the east coast, but none of the money is his until his mother dies, so Catherine has him by the financial balls. I wouldn’t be surprised if he serves her with divorce papers at his mother’s funeral.”
“But wouldn’t his mother take care of him if he got a divorce now?”
“Dad picked a wife just like his dear, old mother,” Cain scowls, “and he didn’t have anyone looking out for him like Cay, Steph, Cary, and I. We were lucky. Our grandfather set up trust funds for us before he died. Dad got married right out of college and went to work at the distillery, so he has absolutely nothing of his own, and since we were just kids, he would always warn us to never live under anyone’s thumb. It was clear whose thumb he meant, and that was the best advice anyone ever gave me. I started investing from my trust fund when I was thirteen, but even if I had lost everything, I’d collect garbage before I’d have my finances tied to my mother.”
“Is that why she is so upset that you broke up with Elizabeth?” I ask, and though I really shouldn’t be bringing her up on top of Catherine, I can’t stop myself. I’m so ashamed of myself for slinking behind a ficus tree when I should have been setting her straight, but once I saw Cain with her, I felt like I had no place by his side. He should have a perfect, blonde beauty bred by the Southern Californian elite on his arm, not the dark-haired child of a dead, coonass father and a mother who probably thinks she’s better off for having her daughter run away from home. I really have nothing to offer him but my body and the sexual submissiveness he desires.
“My mother is obsessed with having some semblance of control over me, and getting me to marry one of the daughters of her country club bitch friends would have given her that illusion.”
“So were you engaged to Elizabeth before we met?”
“Not exactly,” he says, and my confused look urges him to explain. “She was my first long term submissive. I had known her since we were kids. We had hooked up on and off since high school, but it was different when she became my submissive. We got really close, and it was great until I started to want to try it with other women. I didn’t want to lose her, so when I broke up with her, I promised her if neither of us was married in five years’ time, I’d marry her.”
“Were you in love with her?”
“No. I felt something for her, something more than I ever had before, but it wasn’t love,” he says coldly.
“Then how could she expect you to honor that promise?”
“Because when she brought it up about a year ago, I said I’d keep it. It will be five years when I turn twenty-eight in November.”
“You were going to be ready to give up all other women forever in two months?” I ask, incredulous.
“I’ve been growing bored of whoring around for a while now,” he jokes.
“I don’t know how to take that,” I tease back.
“I’m speaking as myself before I met you. I was feeling like I could be ready to give up my freedom and be faithful, though I knew with Liz if I found I couldn’t handle monogamy, she’d look the other way,” Cain says, then he pauses. Lying facing each other in the bed, he caresses the side of my face with his left hand. “Evan, swear that you won’t let these details about my past bother you because nothing I say when referencing it applies to you.”
“I swear,” I say, ravenous for the information even though I’m a little afraid of it.
“Okay. I agreed to keep my promise to Liz because of Lucy. When Lucy and I met, I thought I had found my soulmate, and…”
“I don’t like where this is going,” I warn him. I agreed not to be jealous regarding his past, but Lucy is in his present.
“Patience,” Cain says as he brushes a stray lock of hair out of my face before continuing. “I thought what I felt for Lucy was romantic love because it was the only time I had ever felt any sort of love for a woman, but the first and only time we kissed, we realized it wasn’t. I became convinced I wasn’t capable of falling in love, and four years later that hadn’t changed, so when Liz reminded me of my promise, I realized that there had to be something between us because we kept finding our way back to each other. I thought what I felt for her was the best I could expect. Then I met you.” I wasn’t enjoying this story at all until he said that. “And you know the rest.”
“Ye
ah,” I say, biting my lower lip bashfully.
“And I can never forgive Liz for what she said about you.”
“In her defense,” I say, feeling sorry for her now that I know the whole story, “the thought of losing you is enough to make a girl crazy,”
“And she had to face the beautiful woman she lost me to,” he says.
“Honestly, I don’t think she believes for one minute that she’s lost you.”
“She lost me the moment I laid eyes on you, Evan. She just didn’t have any way of knowing this time was any different than all of the other times I broke up with her for someone else.”
“How many other times?”
“More than I can remember. Technically I’ve never cheated on Liz. I’ve gone out with other women while we were together, but I always broke it off with her before having sex with anyone else. By the time I met you, she didn’t even get upset about it anymore.” I am completely blown away. I can’t believe this woman even wanted to marry him if he has done this to her for five years. Once would be all it would take for me to tell him to go fuck himself.
“What did you tell her when you would break up with her?”
“The truth.”
“The truth?”
“That I had met someone else I wanted to fuck.”
“God, Cain! No wonder she felt like she had to say that about me!”
“That’s not what I told her about you because it wasn’t the whole truth. I told her that I had met someone I’d like to get to know better.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I swear.”
“Then if she was used to you saying you wanted to fuck someone else, hearing that was probably even worse.”
…which in some twisted way makes me feel so much better.
September 13
In the morning, Cain is gone when I wake. I vaguely remember him speaking to me before he left, reminding me that Lucy will be here to take me to the dungeon at 2:00 and that my cell phone is charging on his desk. I go to the fridge looking for something to eat and find a note telling me how long to place my breakfast in the microwave. On a wooden tray is a goblet of orange juice, two covered plates with fresh strawberries, and a homemade Belgian waffle, and the pièce de résistance is a cup of fresh whipped cream. It amazes me that someone like Cain, who could easily afford to have a dedicated chef to cook all of his meals for him, chooses to not only do these things for himself but to do them exceptionally well.
