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It was he that controlled our relationship, and I didn’t dare ask to return to him for fear he would deny me outright. Lying there in his house, his spare room, his bed, the feel and scent of him was everywhere tormenting me. I sobbed myself to sleep remembering the many intimate and pleasurable hours we’d shared, and dreamed of having them again.
I dreamed that the door opened and then closed, that I heard his measured footsteps crossing the floor. I dreamed that he pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed beside me, and then I woke with a start to find it was true. He was there beside me, real, not a dream, warm and stark naked, his cock hard like granite against my thigh. “Tell me to leave, Lucy,” he said.
His hands fell on me, roving over my skin, warm and searching. His arms wrapped around me as if he just needed to feel me, convince himself that I was really there to be touched. I still had his shirt on that I slept in every night, just to have something of his close against my skin.
Again he entreated me, “Tell me to leave. Please.”
“No.” I trembled at the very thought of it. “No, please don’t leave. Please!” I clung to him, pressing my forehead to his chest.
He pulled my face up to his and kissed me deeply while unbuttoning my shirt. He pushed it off my shoulders and down, then lowered his mouth to my taut nipples and teased them with his tongue.
“Oh, God, Matthew...please...”
I cried emotional tears as much as I moaned. My whole body felt electrified to be under his hands again. He made no sound, only kissed and loved me, running his mouth, his lips and tongue all over my skin. It was as if he wanted to memorize me with his taste buds, and his hands never once left the landscape of me. I thrust my hips against him as he caressed me. “Matthew, Matthew...”
“Shh, hush. I’m here.”
“Please. Please...” I didn’t know what else to say. He pulled away from me and I clutched at him, distraught, but he was back a scant moment later. He could put on a condom in record time.
He put his arms around me, used his big hands to align my hips to his.
“Am I hurting your ankle?”
I think at that point I could have felt nothing, no pain or discomfort, with the measure of lust running through my veins. He thrust inside me, so slowly, rocking against me, stretching me so gradually it seemed to take a minute or more before he was fully seated inside. When he was, he buried his face in my neck and drew his hips back and thrust deep inside me again. He felt so perfect. He fit inside me so exactly, moved so expertly, the way he always had. My whole body thrummed with pleasure as he plowed in and out of me. Within moments, the arousal of every sense, every nerve converged into a shattering orgasm. I clung to him, shuddered and shook with the power of what I felt for him.
He laughed against my ear, feeling my walls contract around him. “Little Lucy, you come as well as you ever did. Come again for me. Over and over.” I did too, before he was done with me. My world was reduced to a wonderland of presses and sighs, grasps and thrusts and Matthew’s lips on mine, and all over my body. How had I lived without him those many weeks? How could I ever live without him again?
When I came for the last time, he came with me and fell over me, exhausted. He held me close and sighed. I clung to him, unwilling to let him go.
“Lucy.” That was all he said for a long time.
Then, “Lucy, I tried not to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to. It’s not what I planned.” He said it so sadly, so wretchedly, my heart ached for him.
“Why is that so bad? To fall in love with me?”
“Because if you leave me...if you leave me, I won’t survive it. Not you. Not this time.”
“I won’t leave you. I won’t. Do you really love me? Please tell me, do you love me now?”
“You know I’ve loved you for an eternity. And it’s hurt like hell, hurt much more than anything I’ve ever put you through.”
I buried my face in his neck. “I love you too, Matthew. I want to be whatever you want. I want to make you happy.”
He made a soft sound. “That’s what I’ve always wanted for you. When I saw you at the Gala
—” His voice cut off and he buried his face against my ear. “When I saw you dance at the Gala, I had to leave. I told you I had a phone call, that I missed that party because of a call. But the truth is, I was outside in my car.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you leave?”
“Because it was too much, how I felt. The desire I felt to possess you, the drive to make you mine. I would have given my entire fortune that night, all of it, just to hold you in my arms.”
“But you’re holding me in your arms right now. For free.”
“But then, I had no way to do that. You’d already blown off my tentative attempts to get closer to you. So I just sat in my car, insane with jealousy.”
“Jealousy of who?”
“Whoever was going to get you that wasn’t me. Whatever normal, vanilla man would get you and not know what treasure he had in his hands.”
“Matthew,” I said after a long silence. “Did you really know right away, that I would want what you give me?”
“Yes. I told you, I knew the moment I saw you. I knew before, when I saw those paintings.” He laughed. “Those paintings are obscene.”
“They’re only obscene to you.”
“High pornography. I don’t know how everyone else can’t see it, the submission in your pose.”
“Maybe only you were meant to see it.”
“Me and my wallet,” he snorted, and I laughed.
I thought of the paintings, thought of myself posing for them, alive in the knowledge that I was being used. Used to make a painting, used for my body, used for the curves of my neck, hips, and ass. I had been Matthew’s submissive in my heart, in my mind, from the second I laid eyes on him, and now, at long last, I was in the hands of my match, the man who had known even from an image on canvas how badly I needed to be controlled.
“Matthew, please don’t ever leave me. We belong together.”
“I know.”
“Promise you’ll never leave me. Please.”
“I’m more worried about you leaving me. You’re young, you’re so beautiful. I’m an old man next to you. And you’ve already left me once.”
“You’re what? Forty years old? With the libido of a teenage boy. I think you could outfuck an eighteen year old.”
“Not forever. I won’t be able to do that forever.”
“Oh, I think you will. Anyway, what about me? I’m decrepit. My joints are giving out and my career’s almost through.”
“Retire then and be my concubine,” he teased. “Live to serve me, like Slave.” I made a retching sound. “No, I don’t t
hink so.”
We lay in silence for a long while after our laughter died down, breathing in perfect cadence, our bodies entwined.
“I won’t be any softer on you because I love you,” he said when he spoke again. “I’ll actually be harder over time.”
I shivered with lust and excitement to hear that. Speechless with gratitude, I bit down on his neck. He drew his breath in and slapped my ass. “No biting, Lucy. I’ve told you that how many times now?”
I hummed and ground against him, and he chuckled at my inability to find control.
“I see some re-training will be in order, little girl. Making up for lost time.”
“Yes, sir.” Yes, yes, yes.
The next night he asked me if I was well enough to go with him to the basement.
I told him yes, I absolutely was.
* * *
So that’s how I became Matthew’s girlfriend, in addition to being his submissive and slave.
He still used the favored endearments, tramp and slut and whore, but he added some new ones too. Darling. Precious. My love.
Soon after that night, he acquired Pietro’s third painting of me. He wouldn’t tell me what he’d had to pay to make it his. He only told me he’d wanted to own them all, and I hoped, I truly hoped Pietro hadn’t been too cruel in his price.
We played down in the basement and our sessions were more fun than they’d ever been. The first night back at our games, I was beside myself with restlessness. He knew it and made me go downstairs early, to strip and kneel in the middle of the room and wait. I knelt there, horny and wet, so wet I’m amazed the moisture didn’t run down my legs. I waited and imagined the things he would do to me, and by the time he came to me, I was reckless with need.
He came to me naked and already rock hard. He stood in front of me and I stared at his cock.
I opened my mouth to take him inside, but he lifted my chin instead and turned my face up to his.
“I know you want me, you horny little slut. Did you touch yourself, or did you wait patiently for me?”
