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I hand it to him, and he slides it open before running his fingers over the sleek black leather collar.
“This is a symbol of commitment, a promise that I will always take care of you. That I will always have your best interests at heart. This…means you’re mine.”
His eyes dance up toward my face as he swallows. I wait for his confirmation before I take it out of its box.
“You never have to wear it outside of the house or in public. It’s just for us.”
He nods, and his eyes don’t leave the collar.
“Is that…something you want? You can say no.”
“Of course, it is,” he replies warmly. “I couldn’t imagine saying this to anyone else, but with you, I want this.”
I can’t put into words what it feels like to hear him say those words, to know how much he genuinely wants me, and not just for sex or kink or convenience, butme. This thing between us is real, and with any luck, it will last forever.
With a tremble, I take the collar in my hands and toss the box on the bed. As I unclasp the buckle, I stare at him with a fierce level of excitement in my eyes. “On your knees.”
Without a word, he drops down to the floor, gazing up at me as I wrap the collar around his neck. The audible click of the buckle feels significant, like a declaration. And just the sight of this beautiful man collared for me is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.
I stroke his hair, being careful not to get near his stitches. Seeing that wound reminds me just how recently it was that I held him cradled in my arms in the parking lot, how scared I was of losing him. It has me wanting to be gentle with him and show him another side of my dominance.
“Stand.”
He does, his eyes on me the entire time. My fingers grip the bottom of his T-shirt and I gently pull it over his head, careful of his stitches. Once his shirt is off, he reaches for me, but I grab his wrists and place them behind his back.
“Hands to yourself,” I whisper into his ear, and I feel him shudder against me. “I want to play with what’s mine.” His eyes dilate with arousal as I run my fingers under the elastic waistline of his joggers. His cock is straining against the gray cotton, creating a large print in the fabric. My core is hit with a burst of electric warmth as I rub my palm over the surface, feeling just how hard he is for me. The deep hum vibrating from his chest only makes me hotter for him.
Gently, I ease his pants down, over his cock, as I lower to my knees. His mouth falls open as he watches me bring my lips torturously slow toward the aching length of him jutting out just inches from my mouth. As my tongue extends to lick the bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip, he groans.
The saltiness hits my tongue and my thighs clench in response. Taking this slow is going to be hard on me. But I don’t rush. Instead, I lick around the head and then down the shaft, teasing him to the point where he starts begging.
I lick and kiss every inch of him, before finally pulling him into my mouth, but I don’t let him get anywhere near coming.
“Please, don’t stop.” He groans, his hands staying obediently clasped behind his back.
But I do stop. Gazing up at him with a smile, I say, “Go lie down on the bed.”
With a sigh, he walks over to the bed and lies his head on the pillow while I begin peeling my clothes off. He watches me, biting his lip as I unclasp my bra, letting my breasts fall free. As I drag my pants down, he fidgets.
His cock looks painfully hard as I crawl up his body, settling my weight against his stiff length. Grinding myself against him, I notice his hands aching to move.
“I want to touch you so bad,” he whines.
Leaning over him, I press my mouth to his ear as I whisper, “But you’ve been bad, and bad boys don’t get what they want.” He groans in response.
I soak his cock with my arousal, rubbing myself all over him until I feel my body starting to reach the peak. Lifting my hips up slightly, I dock him at my entrance and pause there, just as he closes his eyes.
“Open them, Beau.”
His eyes shoot open as I start to lower my hips, pulling him into my body. His brows fold upward with delight as I swallow him to the hilt. God, I missed this. It’s been less than a week since we had sex, but it’s painfully clear now we would have been miserable if we tried to do the long-distance thing. We need each other in a way that makes it impossible to imagine life without the other now.
My body is illuminated with a deep aching pleasure as he reaches far inside me. Biting my lip, I tease my clit with one hand, while pinching my left nipple with the other, and I start to grind on him. Using his body as my source of ecstasy, I move fast, chasing my orgasm. It doesn’t take long. His grunts mingled with my moans are filthy and erotic, like my own personal sex soundtrack.
“I want you to come when I tell you to,” I cry as I pinch my nipple harder, bringing myself enough pain to intensify the pleasure. My eyes stay fixed to that collar around his neck, the cadence ofmine, mine, mineechoing through my mind.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, his voice strained.
“Come. Now,” I say in a breathless command, just as I’m about to crest the height of my own climax. His body tenses beneath me as he gasps for air, euphoria written all over his face. His head hangs back as he moans his way through his orgasm.
