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“Crop. That one.”
I point to the one with the wider leather slapper. I think I heard that end called a popper once. Either way, it’s the part that lands on me. He takes it out of the packaging, which he puts on the bedside tabletop. After seeing his place and being in his bedroom, I realize dropping his clothes on the living room floor was out of character for him. Everything looks precisely positioned. It’s not for appearances. I think it’s for practicality. A place for everything, and everything in its place. It makes the penthouse inviting.
“Nipple clamps?”
“Yes, please.”
I point to a metal set that has rubber between the prongs. It’s been a while since I’ve worn a set, so I think I need a little padding.
“What size plug can you take comfortably? I want you to feel full, but not stretched.”
I glance up at him. I don’t know that anyone has asked that before. It’s either been one small enough to not do much for me, or big enough to stretch me for a cock. He’s asking me because he wants to get it right and to ensure I enjoy whatever we’re about to do. It’s not about prepping me to get him off. He is the definition of a generous lover.
I watch him pull out a set of soft cuffs like I have. He also has a collar with a ring like mine. I stick out my left arm, and he wraps a cuff around it, buckling it tight but with enough room for him to stick a finger down it. He repeats the same steps for my other wrist and both ankles. When he stands and grabs the collar, he pauses.
“I will never ask you to crawl. I will never ask you for pet play. I won’t yank or drag the leash. If I fasten it, it’s to demonstrate control. It’s not a leash to me, Sinead. It’s more like a handle. If you want those things, tell me. I’ll oblige if that’s what you want, but I won’t initiate it. You aren’t my sub or my slave. We’re always equals even when it seems like I’m in control.”
A lump rises in my throat. That’s exactly how I’ve wanted BDSM, but it’s never quite been like that. Even when I’ve been the dominate one during fluid power exchange, I couldn’t get my partners to accept that. I had to be the one to accept that it was always truly about domination and submission. It was fine, and I liked it, but it always left something missing.
I’m not falling for Gabe. I’ve already fallen. I place my hands on his chest before sliding them around his neck. I stretch to kiss him, and he lowers his head to make it easier. The kiss seems to last forever before we both need to breathe.
“Little one, do you need vanilla first?”
“I do.”
I think he does too. He puts the collar aside, and I ease back onto the bed, lying parallel to the pillows. He climbs on and hovers over me. He looks at me before he shifts as though he’s going to lie beside me.
“Wait.”
He freezes as he watches me.
“I want missionary, Daddy. I know that’s boring, but I want to see you on top. I want to see the muscles in your shoulders and your abs. They’re a major turn on.”
“There’s nothing boring about you, about sex with you, or how I feel about you. If missionary is what you want— if it’s all you ever want —I will love every moment.”
“I definitely don’t want only missionary. But I want that for right now.”
He positions himself between my thighs and eases into me. He presses in, then pulls back, coating his cock. When he can glide smoothly into me, he thrusts hard. Driving every inch into me as I lift my hips to take him. Fuck. This is amazing.
“Just entering you is enough to make me want to come,piccolina. Goddamn, that feels amazing.”
“I know.”
I’m panting already. My hands roam over his chest and abs as I watch his muscles flex. I’ve always been drawn to the more muscular types, but not necessarily as cut as Gabriele. His body is a work of art. He’s what the Italian Renaissance artists carved out of marble. Fitting.
“Tell me how you want it. Harder? Slower?”
“Both. Thrust hard into me like— like —”
“Like I can’t get enough of you and want every bit of you. Like I crave you and want to possess you.”
“Yes!”
I scream my answer. He’d punctuated every couple words with a thrust hard enough to push me up the bed. But he was agonizingly slow withdrawing. He’s driving me crazy. My fingers are digging into his ass. He’s giving me exactly what I want, and all I want is more. I need him to move faster, but I love how he torments me. I don’t know what to ask for, so I let him decide. When my eyes drift shut, he alternates his pace. I truly don’t know what will happen next, and I love it. I love the surprises.
“Daddy, I’m close. May I come?”
“This is vanilla,cuore. Don’t ask. Take.”
