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She nods fast and shallow. “Yes, Mr. Black. I’m yours.”
I shudder at her response, not believing this is actually happening, that my fantasy lover wants to be mine outside my dreams and not just for one night.
“But I don’t want to hurt you, baby. You’re so sore,” I whisper, reaching down between us and cupping her pussy, finding her wet but still swollen.
“I don’t care.” She swallows. “I need you. Just… can you be gentle with me? I know you’ve always had to in the past, and I swear you can take me any other way you wish, but just this time—”
“Evie, I told you I’d never hurt you. And if you need soft and slow, if that’s what my sub needs, then it’s my job as your Dom to give you that, right?” I prompt, knowing I’d give her sweet and gentle even if it weren’t part of being in this type of relationship.
She smiles, lifting her chin a little to nuzzle her nose against mine. “Right.”
“Then that’s what you’ll get, little mouse. But that’s going to be the first official rule between us, or law, or contract, or whatever the hell you call it,” I add.
“And what’s that?” She arches her back as I align my tip with her entrance.
“I don’t give a fuck what other Doms have wanted in the past. You fucking tell me every time you want me,” I order, and she gasps as I slowly start to sink inside her tight, wet heat.
“Yes, Sir,” she hisses.
And I spend the next hour making sweet, slow, gentle love to my girl.Chapter 14Evie“What do you want for lunch?” I hear Nate call from my library as I put away the few dishes I had in my dishwasher.
“Uuummm… maybe a salad from Salata? Or… oh, a pizza from Mod sounds yummy. Or I could fix us some sandwiches here. But all I have is turkey, so if you want something else…. We could do Subway… or Jersey Mike’s—”
“Baby,” he cuts me off, his voice so close it makes me jump, and I spin around from the cabinet to find his chest right behind me. I tilt my head back… back… back… until I finally meet his amused eyes.
I swallow. “Whatever you want is good,” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes on me, looking for something he must find, because he nods once before leaning down to kiss my cheek. “I’ll be right back with your lunch, milady,” he says teasingly, and he disappears into my bedroom for a moment and comes back out tossing his keys up in the air and catching them as he makes his way to the door. When he opens it and steps outside, I expect to hear it close behind him, but instead, he peeks his head back in. “And don’t. Get. Dressed,” he orders with a lift of his eyebrow and an exaggerated look at my naked breasts before he pulls the door closed.
I giggle, shaking my head, and lean back against the counter, glancing down at myself. He’d at least allowed me to put panties on when he noticed how awkward I felt, feeling the wetness coating the inside of my thighs. It had made him instantly hard, seeing his cum dripping out of me, the insatiable man. But as much as I wanted him over and over, my ladybits had put their foot down. She was officially out of commission, no matter how gentle he could be. Gentle or not, the man was freaking huge, and my body was not used to getting so much undivided attention.
After he made love to me—in which I stayed completely coherent, thank goodness—we’d taken a shower together, where he did everything from washing my hair to exfoliating my back. We snuggled up on the couch, and after seeing my panic when he asked me what we should watch, he’d chosen something from my Watch Next list, a midseason episode of Down to Earth with Zac Efron. He commented on how everything on my list was reality or a documentary and told me those were his favorite programs too, and somehow it made me feel even closer to him.
That led to a discussion about other things we loved, finding we have all sorts of things in common, from different bands and music to books and hobbies. I found it incredibly sexy that he loves to read, which isn’t a surprise, seeing as I’m a librarian. But when I thought back, I know he wasn’t just telling me that, because he always has a book to read in study hall, and not just a textbook. There’ve been several times I’ve seen him leaned back in his chair with a worn-out paperback, the cover opened and folded around the back. At the time, I looked away, cringing at the book abuse, but that had been at a time when I didn’t think there was much good in Nate Black. While it would still make my eye twitch to find him folding covers, at least now I’d find it forgivable, and I’d have the guts to tell him that isn’t proper bibliophile etiquette.
