Author: Tara Sue Me

“Pretty Woman?”

“You know, the movie?”

“No. I’ve never seen it,” I said. “I don’t kiss on the lips because it’s unnecessary.” Unnecessary for us. Ask me why.

Though she looked upset, she just ate another bite of chicken, so I continued. “I recognize that you’re a person with your own hopes, dreams, desires, wants, and opinions. You have put those things aside to submit to me this weekend. To put yourself in such a position demands respect, and I do respect you. Everything I do to or for you, I do with you in mind. My rules on sleeping, eating, and exercise are for your benefit. My chastisement is for your betterment.” I ran a finger around the rim of my wineglass and smiled inwardly at the way her eyes followed the movement. “And any pleasure I give you . . .” I will give you pleasure, Abigail, know that now—much pleasure. “Well, I don’t suppose you would have any qualms concerning pleasure.”

Yes. She understood. Her eyes grew dark and her breathing changed. I had her exactly where I wanted her.

I pushed my chair back, ready to proceed with the evening. “Are you finished with dinner?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to take Apollo outside. My room is upstairs, first door on the left. I will be there in fifteen minutes. You will be waiting for me. Page five, first paragraph.”

I took Apollo outside to clear my head, to prepare myself as far as I could for what was about to happen in my bedroom. I ran over my plan again in my mind. Abigail enjoyed giving oral sex—I knew that from her checklist. Since that was typically one of my first acts with a sub, it only made sense to start our weekend out that way.

A submissive was reminded of her position and responsibilities while giving oral sex. On her knees at my feet, being used for my pleasure. While I could use a submissive any way I wished, it was a responsibility I did not take lightly.

I pictured the bedroom the way I’d left it—lit candles everywhere, the pillow in the middle of the room, the nightgown I’d purchased. Would I find her on her knees wearing the gown? That was my hope. Maybe I’d find her in the foyer, waiting to tell me she’d changed her mind. That was my fear.

“Come on, Apollo.”

When we made it back into the house, I stopped at the laundry room and stripped off my sweater, placing it in the hamper for my housekeeper to take to the dry cleaner. Abigail wasn’t in the foyer, so I walked up the stairs, Apollo at my heels. I pointed to the floor outside my bedroom door, and he plopped down with a sigh, head on his paws.

I stepped into the room and found her waiting. She had the gown on and knelt on the pillow.

Yes.

I closed the door. “Very nice, Abigail. You may stand.”

She rose slowly. The gown hit at her upper thigh, and the faint pink flush of her skin through the sheer material betrayed her excitement.

“Strip the gown off and place it on the floor.”

She drew the gown over her head with trembling fingers. She was nervous, but her ni**les were hard and her lips parted slightly.

“Look at me.” Once her eyes met mine—yes, she was as excited as I was—I removed my belt and walked closer to her. “What do you think, Abigail? Shall I chastise you for your master remark?”

I snapped the belt and it landed on her upper thigh. I was not yet her master, and she needed to understand that.

One day soon, perhaps . . .

“Whatever you wish, sir,” she whispered.

Good answer.

“Whatever I wish?” I wished a lot of things, but for now . . .

I stood before her and unbuttoned my pants, slipped them down with my boxers. My erection sprang free. “On your knees.” I waited, knowing she was looking. Which was fine. She needed to see.

“Service me with your mouth.”

She leaned forward, and my c**k slipped past her lips. Her mouth was hot and wet, and I grew even harder. Fuck, she felt good. I hit the back of her throat.

“All of it.” She could do it.

She would do it.

She hesitated, though, bringing her hands up to grasp the base of my cock, and I didn’t like hesitation.

“If you can’t take it in the mouth, you can’t have it anywhere else,” I said, because I knew exactly where she wanted it. The thought made me thrust forward, and I slipped deeper into her throat. “Yes. Like that.”

I looked down, and the sight of Abigail on her knees, with my c**k in her mouth, almost made me come. I wouldn’t last long. “I like it hard and rough, and I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re new.” I grabbed her hair. “Hold on tight.”

She wrapped her arms around my thighs, and I pulled out to thrust immediately back into her mouth.

I moved her head with my hands, f**king her mouth, hard and rough. Exactly the way I liked.

“Use your teeth,” I said, and she scraped my length as I moved in and out. Then she got into it, sucking me and running her tongue around me.

“Yes,” I moaned, closing my eyes and using her even harder.

Yes.

Fuck.

My balls tightened, and I knew I was close. I held off, wanting to make the feeling last—the feel of her mouth on me, the promise of my release begging me to let go, the high of being so close and not letting myself give in just yet.

She sucked harder, and I knew I couldn’t hold off much longer.

“Swallow it all,” I said, preparing her. “Swallow everything I give you.”

I released in several long spurts, but she took it all. Gulping it down, not missing a drop.

I pulled out, my breathing heavy, because, damn, she was good. “That, Abigail,” I said, “that is what I wish.” I pulled my pants back on, noting how she waited for my next order.

I wanted to throw her on the bed and f**k her properly. I wanted to hold her hands above her head and pound into her over and over until she was screaming with the pleasure I gave her. I wanted—

Enough!

She’d had enough for one night.

She needed time to get used to it. As much as she wanted this, she was still very new to my world. I could not and would not forget that.

I waited until my breathing had calmed. “Your room is two doors down on the left,” I said. “You sleep in my bed by invitation only. You are excused.”

She slipped the gown back on and gathered her clothing.

“I will take breakfast in the dining room at seven sharp.”

Chapter Four

I never needed a lot of sleep. Most nights I did fine with four or five hours, which was just as well, because after having Abigail’s lips wrapped around my dick, there was no way in hell I’d be sleeping anytime soon. I ran my hand through my hair and tried to concentrate on the detailed spreadsheet on my laptop, but the numbers jumbled up in my brain. I cursed in frustration.

Damn it. What had I done?

I’d forced Abigail to her knees and f**ked her mouth without asking what she thought or how she felt or even if she wanted to.

But, I argued with myself, it was what she wanted. She had free will. She could have told me to stop at any minute and I would have. I knew that, but the fact was, she hadn’t wanted me to stop. She wanted me to dominate her or else she wouldn’t be in my house and she sure as hell wouldn’t be sleeping two doors down from my bedroom.

I shut down the laptop and walked into the hallway.

Her door was closed and the light off. She was sleeping.

Further proof of what she wanted.

I didn’t question it again. I went into the playroom and prepared for the next evening.

I finally made it to bed long after midnight and woke up four and a half hours later, at five thirty. I did a few stretches before walking down the hall to Abigail’s room.

The door was closed—she was still sleeping. I wondered if she’d wake up in time to fix breakfast and thought briefly about waking her up myself. Then I decided I didn’t want to set a precedent, so I turned and went down the stairs to my home gym.

I finished my jog at six forty and heard Abigail banging around the kitchen. She might have woken up later than she wanted, but she was bound and determined to have my breakfast ready. I left the gym and took a quick shower. At seven exactly, I walked into the dining room and found my breakfast waiting.

I observed her from the corner of my eye while I ate. She was dressed casually and her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. She probably hadn’t showered. Her breathing was just the slightest bit heavy, but she worked to control it, as if she didn’t want to let on how she’d rushed through making breakfast. She’d worked hard this morning.

Which meant the rest of the weekend looked very promising.

I took my time eating. There was no need to hurry, and I wanted Abigail to have the time necessary to calm her thoughts.

“Make yourself a plate and eat in the kitchen,” I said once I finished. “Come to my bedroom in an hour. Page five, paragraph two.”

I called Jackson while I took Apollo outside.

“You aren’t calling to cancel, are you?” he asked.

“No. I was calling to see if you wanted to have lunch after we played.”

“Lunch would be great.” His voice dropped. “Did the date not work out?”

I laughed. Little did he know. “The date worked out fine. More than fine, actually—we made plans for tonight.”

“All right!” he said. “Score one for you.”

If you even knew the half of it.

“So what’s she like?” he asked. “Is she pretty? Does she have a sister?”

I reached down to pet Apollo. “I’ll tell you all about her at lunch.”

As much as I tried to imagine what it would be like to have Abigail spread out on my bed, the sight still left me stunned. The late-morning sun cast a bright glow over the bed—illuminating her body, making her shine.

Her eyes were closed, allowing me a few seconds to observe her unnoticed. I started at her mouth, at the way her lips parted slightly—almost as if she were talking to herself. My gaze continued traveling, skirting over her delicate neck. I watched as she swallowed, how her muscles stirred under her skin. The movement of her hands caught my attention, but she only brushed her fingers over the bedspread. Her eyes were still closed.

Her br**sts were the perfect size to fit in the palms of my hands, and as I watched, she took a deep breath, lifting her chest. Her ni**les were a dusky rose color, pebbled in obvious excitement. I ached to take one in my mouth. To taste her—

Later.

I clenched my fists and moved my eyes downward, along the gentle slope of her belly, down to where she had her knees spread. My eyes dipped lower, and I saw that she was already wet.

Wet for me.

Ready for me.

My c**k hardened at the thought.

Later, West, I told myself. Learn some control.

I knew if I didn’t move forward with my plan, I’d tear my clothes off and take her right then and there. But that was not my plan, and I always did everything according to plan.

Almost.

Having Abigail in my house broke damn near every rule I’d ever had and every plan I’d ever created.

This is not about you, I told myself. Not much anyway. Just give her what she needs.

I unclenched my fist and walked to the bed. “Keep your eyes closed.”

She jumped. She’d been so inwardly focused, she hadn’t heard me enter.

“I like you spread out like this. Take your hands and pretend they’re mine. Touch yourself.” Show me what you like, what you want.

She hesitated. Again.

“Now, Abigail.” I had to be more patient than usual. She was new to this, after all.

She moved her hands to her br**sts and, while she was gentle at first, her touch grew rougher, harder, as she rolled the tip of one nipple and then the other. She took one and pinched it, eliciting a small gasp of pleasure in the process.

Fuck, yes. She liked it rough.