Page 93 of Graciously His

“No. You made your stand here. You’ll end it here, too. Agree, and you can come with me tomorrow and we can consider the safe-word sorted.”

Shivering, I nod. This is the cost of what I need. “I agree.”

“Yes,” he answers, “you fucking do.”

He lifts me up and I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to get close, to bury myself within his warmth. I expect him to carry me to the bedroom and lay me down on the bed for the ‘apology’ he demanded, but Nate deposits me on the toilet instead.

“What—no!” I try to get up, suddenly mortified.

“It’s just for you to sit on,” he says, holding me in place. “Unless you need to go?”

“No! Nate, this—this isn’t okay and—”

“It is okay, Grace, and I’m going to tell you why.” His voice has dropped into the gravelly tone I associate with our darkest moments. “You’re going to sit on this toilet and you’re going to suck my cock as an apology for talking to your mother.”

“She called me!” I protest, grabbing his wrist. “From a private number! How could I have known it was her?”

“You,” he leans in so close that our noses touch, “listened to the bitch for sixty fucking seconds, Grace. Instead of hanging up, you let that woman talk to you. That is what you’re apologising for. Now open your mouth nice and wide. I’m going to fuck your face until those tears taste like my come.”

I shake my head, fear mingling with disgust. “No, I—I’ll say the new safe word. I’m—”

His grip on my hair tightens, turning painful. “You safe-word now, and that’s fine. Go ahead and do it. But you’re staying home tomorrow as your apology instead. That’s where we’re at. Do you understand me?”

I shake my head, pulling against his grip, trying to slide off the toilet. Nate forces his way between my legs to secure me to the seat. Humiliation layers over my disgust and fear and lust. I remember all the times I had Nick’s penis in my mouth, soft and salty. I remember the shame when I was incapable of arousing him. I bury my face in my hands, hiding, and Nate lets me. He lets me cry my heart out on the toilet while he pets my hair.

“Such a sad girl,” he murmurs. “Doing things she knows she shouldn’t, then crying when it’s time to face the consequences. It’ll be okay, Grace.” He pulls my hands aside, looking into my eyes. “Say your colourful safe-word now, and I’ll take you to our bed and I’ll give you what you need. I’ll even let you pretend. Then you can stay here tomorrow, nice and quiet, and I’ll come home to you like I always do."

I feel how fully he has me trapped. He both expects and wants me to say ‘orange’ and call this off. I can’t. I have to get to Auckland tomorrow. I have to see what’s in that envelope before Nate finds it. I have to know.

“H-how long,” I ask, “do I have t-o do this?”

His breathing changes, going ragged. He’s beyond turned on and I wonder if that’ll make it hurt. I’ve never done this with an aroused partner before.

“Until I come, Grace. You are going to open your mouth and take my cock until I come down your sweet little throat.”

I look into his flat predator’s eyes. Then I nod.

“Say it. I need to hear the word.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “But I’d—I’d rather kneel on the floor, please.”

“But you look so very pretty sitting there.”

Nate shifts me more squarely onto the toilet, ensuring I can sit up properly. I realise it’s part of the punishment, and I resign myself to it.

His fingers touch my lips. “Open your mouth. Now.”

Breathing fast, I obey. I don’t know how I’ll do this. All of my crying has blocked my nose. Nate puts his fingers in my mouth, holding them flat over my tongue. I whimper when he prods further, my gag reflex activating.

“Perfect,” he mutters, pulling his fingers out.

He undoes his jeans, and I grab a wad of toilet roll to try and clean up my nose. He knocks it from my hand.

“No,” he says, his cock already approaching my lips. “You’re going to do this just as you are. You’re my messy, ruined girl until I decide otherwise. Now open up.”

I do, my mind threatening to short-circuit. I expect a hard, nasty thrust, but Nate only gives me the head. My mouth forms to it, my jaw loosening naturally. I suck, ignoring the pang of horror at the inverted familiarity.

It’s all right, I tell myself. It’s Nate. And he wants this because he loves you and he’s trying to help you get past this fear. It’s all right.