His Muse's Fidelity

by Linnea May

  “Leave me out of your troubles, trying to spare me,” I explain. “I want to support you; that’s what partners are for, to go through these kinds of things together. Support each other. But you keep shielding things away from me. As if you don’t trust me.”

  “I trust you,” he asserts. “But I promise you, I am not hiding anything from you. I didn’t tell you more about my mother because I don’t want her to be a part of my life anymore. I wanted to ignore the fact that she was released, hoping that she would just stay away on her own. I thought that a few crazy phone calls was all she had in her this time. Had I anticipated that she would attack you, I would’ve handled things differently. A lot differently, believe me that. Thank God I have all the money in the world to keep us safe from her.”

  I nod. “It’s still sad, though. Shunning your own mother like that…”

  “It’s better,” he insists. “For me and for her.”

  I reach for my tumbler and take another tiny sip of my sherry cask whisky. The taste is so exquisite, like sweet, burning honey.

  “Has she ever met any of your former girlfriends?” I ask. My heart is pounding as even asking the question makes me nervous.

  “No,” he says. “Like I said, she was locked away for a long time. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months.”

  “Like ours,” I note.

  He looks at me with indignation.

  “I sure hope ours will last a lot longer,” he whispers, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” I reply, smiling. “But…um, how many girlfriends did you have before me?”

  “Why does that matter?” he asks.

  I shrug. “I’m just curious.”

  “Most of the girls I have been with were nothing more but flings,” he says. “The ones I considered girlfriends were maybe two or three.”

  “Oh,” I make. “Well, that’s already more than me.”

  “So?” he asks. ” What is this, Renee? Do you want to exchange our numbers? The number of people we have slept with? From what little I know about relationship advice, that is never a good thing to do.”

  I bite my lip. Of course, he is right. I am not exactly keen to tell him my number either, especially because I don’t know it for sure. I have never kept count, but I know that I am more familiar with flings as well. I have only had one guy that could come close to being called a boyfriend.

  “Were all of them submissives, too?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No, but most were. However, none of them ever meant as much to me as you do.”

  I stroke along his upper thigh below the water surface and cuddle up closer to him.

  He clears his throat.

  “In fact,” he adds. “I never told any of them that I loved them. Because I didn’t. You are a first for me in that regard.”

  He leans in closer to me and starts placing soft kisses around my temple, my jawline, behind my ear.

  “Maybe that’s why I am so bad at this,” he whispers.

  “Bad at what?” I breathe, relishing his gentle kisses.

  “Love,” he replies. “At loving you, treating you as my partner, my love, my companion.”

  He kisses the soft spot right behind my ear sending shivers through my body.

  “There’s certainly one thing you’re good at,” I whisper as he continues to tease me with enticing kisses. “Seducing.”

  “Is that what you think I am doing to you right now?” he asks. “Seducing you?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I say.

  “Well, are you done interrogating me?” he asks. “I thought we could do something a little more fun.”

  Something about the way he says that doesn’t sit well with me.

  I clear my throat.

  “What if I am not done?” I ask. “What if I do want to know more, talk more? Would that be less fun right now?”

  He stops kissing me and retreats to look at me, displaying a slightly annoyed expression.

  “Yes, that would be less fun,” he admits. “Why do you insist on asking all these questions again?”

  I look on the bubbling surface of the water. We added some bath salts to it, so the air is filled with a faint smell of lemon, and the foam that surrounds us is soaked in a light yellow color.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. “Maybe I could feel more confident about everything your mother said if I knew more about you and your past.”

  He sighs.

  “Don’t tell me you believe her?” he asks. “She’s crazy! You have seen it with your own eyes now!

  “Yes,” I agree. “But still… the things she said, and you being so closed up. You know, it’s just… hard.”

  “Renee,” he says, touching my face with his one free hand to turn my eyes around to him.

  Our eyes meet, and I am faced with that deep, dark sadness of his again.

  “You have to trust me,” he repeats. “I am not hiding anything from you. My mother is crazy. She hates me, and she has always hated me since my deadbeat father left us. I am not talking about my former relationships a lot because there is just nothing to talk about. They were a pastime, a nice diversion.”

  He pauses for a moment and looks at me as I process his words.

  “But they never filled the hole in my heart, that agonizing loneliness I have come accustomed to,” he adds. “You did that. Only you. And that is what I want to focus on from now on.”

  I smile at him.

  “You irreclaimable charmer,” I whisper and wink at him.

  He chuckles and shakes his head, casting me a loving smile.

  “It’s the truth, beautiful. You better start believing it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  When we retreat to the penthouse in our bathrobes, he suggests that I should take mine off as soon as we close the door behind us.

  I cast him a naughty smile as I obediently open my robe. The hot water and whisky worked well together in warming me up and making me a little tipsy.

  “Stunning,” he whispers when I stand in front of him completely naked.

  He places the tip of his index finger on the lower side of my chin and lifts my face up for a kiss. It is a little, loving peck.

  “Now,” he breathes. “I want you in the bedroom, the dark one. I want you to go there, get down on your knees and wait for me, facing the door. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  I smile. “Yes, Sir.”

  I know his eyes are following me as I walk down the hallway toward the bedroom, flustered butterflies causing a turmoil within my core.

  As challenging as being with Cedric could be, I don’t miss the flat line life I led before I met him one second.

  I do as I am told and get down on my knees next to the bed, as I suspect him to expect me on the floor. My eyes are glued to the door, and my hands placed on my knees, palms up. He didn’t mention that last part, but it is usually how he wants to see me when I am told to be waiting for him, presenting myself to him as he walks into the room.

  He doesn’t make me wait for long and shows up only a few moments after I have situated myself.

  He pauses at the door looking at me with a pleased smile.

  “Good girl,” he praises. “Look what I brought for you.”

  He is holding up some black rope in front of my face. He has used rope on me before, but mostly to tie up my hands and ankles, never to a degree that would ask for the length that he is holding in his hands now.

  “I want to try something new today,” he explains. “Stand up.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I reply and obey.

  “Now,” he whispers as he starts preparing the rope. “This is my first time doing this, so you’ll have to cut me some slack.”

  “Of course,” I say, smiling at him. “If you do the same?”

  He glances at me.

  “It’s my first time, too,” I say, winking at him.

  “Oh, you’ll be fine, I’m sure,” he breathes and leans over for a
kiss.

  “This,” he says as he drapes the rope around the back of my neck. “Is called a karada.”

  The ends of the rope are falling down at the front of my body, and he takes each end in his hands to bring them around one another three times so that they end up in little twists before he brings them down between my legs.

  He pauses for a moment to think. The expression he makes when he is deeply concentrating is so sexy and cute. I have to resist the urge to jump forward and kiss him, this beautiful, strong man.

  He withdraws the rope from between my legs and adds another twist right at the level of my mound before he puts the ends down between my legs again, bringing them up and apart on my back side. My folds are confined between the rope, narrowing the leeway around my entrance. This will be interesting.

  Cedric holds the rope at my center and moves around so that he is standing behind me to bring the ends up between my ass cheeks and parting them to wrap them around my hips.

  “This is elaborate,” I joke as he moves back to the front so he can bring the ends of the rope through the lowest twist on my mound.

  He chuckles and softly pulls at the rope, opening the twist, so it forms a diamond shape on my front. His pull is not very tight, but I can still feel it between my legs. The sensation is agitating, causing me to let out a soft moan.

  Cedric hums in approval and casts me a pleased smile. “Good girl. I knew you would like this.”

  He continues the process, bringing the ends of the rope to the back, crossing them above my spine and bringing them back to the front, once again passing them through the twists. The finished process leaves me with four beautiful diamonds at my front. He tells me to lift my arms and finishes the harness by bringing the rope around to the front beneath my arms, through the topmost twist, then back around behind me. From there, he brings the ends up underneath the rope where it passes around my neck and down beneath the rope wrapping around my back.

  “Bring your hands back,” he commands.

  I obey and bring my wrists together on my back. Just as I expected, he ties them together and connects them to the harness.

  “A little freestyle,” he explains. “This is not part of the original idea, but I don’t want you to use your hands tonight.”

  I remain silent and look down on myself. This is oddly arousing. I never would have expected to feel this good about being confined and tied up. The rope is not very tight but tight enough to cut into my skin. I kind of hope that it will leave marks on my pale skin.

  Cedric appears in front of me assessing his masterpiece. I smile at him, almost certain that he can see my arousal written all over my face.

  The naughty smile he is casting me suggests that he does notice it. He reaches into one of the pockets of his robe and takes something out. I cannot see what it is because he is hiding it inside his palm as he unties his robe and lets it glide off his shoulders down to the floor.

  I inhale audibly at the sight of his perfectly sculptured body. His member stands thick and erect, pointed towards me and glistening with precum.

  “Naughty girl,” he whispers when he notices me involuntarily licking my lips. “You want to play with it, don’t you?”

  I look up at him with longing eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

  He takes a step forward. I catch myself bowing down, ready to get down on my knees to please him, but he stops me.

  “No,” he objects. “Not yet. We’ll have to see if you’re ready yet.”

  My eyes follow his hand as he reaches forward, running along the rope, down to my center.

  “Look at me,” he orders, and I lift my head.

  Our eyes are fixated on each other as his hand continues its journey to my core. Another moan escapes my lip when he reaches my folds. They are confined between the rope that is running along left and right from my center, slightly squeezing them together. He smiles at me while he parts me and lets one finger slide in between, greeted with wetness.

  “Oh, yes,” he hums. “What a slutty little girl you are, so ready for me. But guess what…,”

  He pauses with his finger still between my legs and moves the other hand towards my center as well.

  “I have a little extra for you,” he whispers. “Keep your head up; don’t look down.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I breathe.

  I keep looking up while he lowers his eyes and starts fondling with the lowest twist on my mound. It feels like he is attaching something to it, and I soon gain an idea of what it could be. It’s a small device, maybe a little longer and thicker than my middle finger, and the tip of it rests directly on my most sensitive spot on my center when he is finished tying it on.

  “Okay,” he says. “Now show me what a good girl you are for me. Down.”

  He holds me by the shoulders, making sure I don’t fall over as I slowly lower myself down on my knees, careful not to misplace the little device he has fixed to the harness.

  I am face to face with his gorgeous erection and immediately take him between my lips, sucking and licking on him with relish. He moans and leans his pelvis forward asking for more.

  I love his taste, so sweet and familiar; it almost reminds me of the sherry cask whisky I have come to love so much. I close my eyes, enjoying this just as much as he is while I please him, letting my tongue circle around his tip, along the lower side of his shaft and back, teasing the sensitive area around the glans.

  His breathing accelerates, and he grabs me by the hair at the back of my head again gently guiding me back and forth.

  I almost forget about the device that is attached to my core until it suddenly starts vibrating. A loud gasp of surprise escapes my mouth and interrupts my actions as I look up to him through lusty eyes.

  He is smiling down at me and proudly presents a little remote control that he kept hidden in his other hand.

  “Go on,” he urges, forcing my head down and forward to take him in again.

  I can adjust the place the vibrations hit my center by slightly moving my hips to the side and backwards. They are so intense that I fear to climax too soon if I don’t shift around a little to keep myself from too much stimulation.

  Cedric starts thrusting back and forth more, taking over control as he always does. I take him in, careful not to hurt him with my teeth and using my tongue to tease him even more. I am so close to coming; I don’t want him to fall behind.

  He is still in charge, however, and soon decides that he has had enough. He pulls me back by the hair and takes a step so quickly that I almost lose my balance and fall over.

  “Come,” he hisses, lifting me up by grabbing me beneath my armpits.

  I stumble on my feet and follow his lead as he walks me to the side of the bed.

  “Down,” he orders, gently pushing me back down on my knees, so that I am kneeling next to the bed, facing the mattress.

  I yelp in surprise when he gives me a little push forward. I would have fallen flat on my face had he not grabbed the rope at my back to hold me. The rope cuts into my skin and makes me gasp for air as he slowly lowers me down onto the sheets so that my upper body is resting on the bed.

  “Spread your legs,” he commands, lightly pinching me on the inside of my upper thighs. “Booty up. Show me how beautiful you are.”

  I obey and hollow my back for him, which increases the tension that the vibrations of the little toy put on my center.

  I cannot suppress a light moan as I follow his wish. I won’t last long like this; that’s for sure.

  “Very good girl,” he praises as he starts massaging my behind. “You’re so beautiful. Rope suits you, just as I expected.”

  I reply with another groan of desire, suffocated by the sheets that my face is pressed into because I cannot support myself with my tied up hands.

  I catch myself moving back and forth inviting him to finally fuck me.

  “My cute, sexy bitch in heat,” he whispers, now teasing me with his tip at my entrance.

  “Show me what you want.”
/>   He places his tip at my entrance, slightly pushing my folds apart, allowing for me to simply lean back and take him in.

  “Good girl,” he whispers as he glides into my wetness.

  I moan and desperately move further, taking all of him in until he fills me completely. He is stretching me so good, and the feeling is only intensified by the rope cutting into my flesh left and right of my core. The stimulation is extraordinary.

  “Come on,” he encourages. “Don’t be lazy. Take what you need.”

  I gasp with exhaustion and lust. Seeing as my arms are tied up and I have no way of supporting myself, it is not an easy task to move my body back and forth to properly fuck him.

  But I need him. I need it so badly.

  I gather all the strength from my upper thighs and my core and frantically move myself back and forth while he hardly moves at all, but just gently leans his pelvis forward so that I can take him in as good as possible.

  It is exhausting, and the rope is cutting deeper into my skin at the front because I keep lifting my upper body to gain more leeway.

  But none of that matters as I take my pleasure from him, indulging on the sensation of the strong vibrations on my clit and his thick member spreading me to the fullest.

  “I’m gonna c-”

  “Good,” he gasps.

  He grabs the rope at my back and slightly pulls me up as he takes over control, relentlessly fucking me into the first waves of my release.

  I am almost sorry for coming so soon, as it only takes a few shoves by him to bring me over the edge, but he is equally agitated and follows me as soon as the first rush of pleasure raids through my body. My muscles clench around him, soon accompanied by him throbbing inside me as he climaxes while yelling my name over and over again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Weeks go by without Cedric’s mother making another appearance in our lives. Things are slowly getting back to normal. His book is selling well, and he finally finds the time to work on his next one. Now that he has longer stretches of time for himself, he is a lot more relaxed and back to being himself. I am surprised that he is already working on his next book with so much effort, and a little jealous. I envy him for having this passion, this dedication for something.