The Dom of My Dreams: A BDSM Novel (46 page)

           
I love you.

           
I wished I could utter those words, but I was beyond speech as pleasure washed over me like a tidal wave.
 
Besides, all he had to do was look into my eyes to see the love burning in them.

           
I opened my eyes and saw passion and desire staring back at me.
 
I saw something else in his eyes, something more intense, but the slow, delicious movements he made on top of me felt
so good
that all thoughts soon escaped me.
 
As he thrust in and out of me in sensual, lazy strokes, I realized that we were making love.
 
We weren’t fucking, not this time.
 
For the first time, we were coupling like two people immersed in slow, all-consuming passion—like two people deeply in love.
 
And I loved it.
 
I loved it just as much as the tumultuous fucking.

           
I didn’t know how long our lovemaking lasted, but it felt like an erotic eternity.
 
Our bodies, damp with sweat yet again, were in constant motion.
 
Frenzied passion overtook us and refused to let go until it sent us over the edge and beyond.
 
Our mouths touched every part of each other’s bodies.
 
We sucked, we nibbled, we licked, we sixty-nine’d.
 
There was not one area left unkissed.
 
Seton made love to me again on top, then he tilted my body a little so he could enter me from the side, then it was from behind, then he pinned me to the wall, then we did it standing up.
 
We made love on the floor, on his reading chair, in the shower, and again in bed.
 
During the entire time, Seton sank into me with a fierce, intense, albeit slow rhythm of his making.
 
He teased me, bringing me to the brink of orgasm again and again, but offering no release.
 
He was in complete control, which was fine with me.
 
But now he was more than just controlling.
 
Seton was passion and fire and intensity and madness, and he didn’t let go until I begged him for release.
 
And when he finally allowed me to come, I exploded in a sea of rapture more powerful than anything I’d ever experienced.
 
Multiple climaxes swept over me in never-ending waves.
 
Tears of love and need flowed down my cheeks.
 
Never in my life had I experienced such pleasure, and I owed it all to this fascinating, enigmatic and unpredictable man who had so cleverly come along and stolen my heart away.
 

           
I love you, David James Seton.

           
Now as I lay in bed, watching him sleep, our bodies twined together, his arms pressed tightly against me as if to make sure I would remain by his side, I had never imagined such happiness.
 
I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.
 
I would tell him that as soon as he woke up.
 
It was time to leave self-doubt behind and open up my heart, as well as my mind, to the possibility of love.
 
After all, I thought as fatigue and satiation nudge me into sleep, what do I have to lose?

Chapter Fourteen

Dark skies, both from the night and from the weather, covered the city of Northampton.
 
Thunders rumbled and fast winds forced the rain down in slanting streams, causing them to splatter loudly against the windows.
 

           
The thunder and lightning woke me up, but Seton slept through the whole thing.
 
The extensive lovemaking, coupled with the jetlag, must have done quite a number on him.
 
Rising up slightly on one elbow, I glanced at the clock on the night table.
 
It was almost midnight—almost five in the morning in England.
 
Yup, he was in London time all right, but I bet that he was also sated and happy, just as I was.

           
In his arms, I sighed and snuggled more closely against him.
 
He looked so beautiful when he slept—so boyish and peaceful—his hair tussled, his face dusted with stubble, his long lashes fluttering, his breath deep and steady.
 
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
 
There he is, I thought, the man that I love.
 
The one man I have given my heart to.
 
I wanted him to wake up so that I could tell him how I felt.
 
I would utter those three little words that I had never uttered before in my life.
 

Trepidation surged helplessly through me.
 
What if I scared him away?
 
What if he didn’t feel the same?
 
I shook my head and brushed the insecurities away.
 
He felt the same way.
 
I was certain of it.
 
And as I said before, what did I have to lose?
 
After all that had passed between us during the last several hours, it was only appropriate to tell him.
 
I had been stalling, for I’d had plenty of opportunities to tell him during the course of our intense evening together, but I somehow couldn’t get the words out.
 
I’ll tell him, I said to myself.
 
I’ll tell him as soon as he wakes up.

           
I tucked my face against Seton’s neck and kissed him there.
 
My gaze slipped down to his nakedness and watched as his chest, red from scratch marks, rose and fell in a steady rhythm of sleep.
 
He was sprawled on the bed, to his left side, facing me, one arm under his pillow, the other by his side.
 
A blue sheet, tangled across the bed, covered his legs.
 
His genitals were exposed.
 
A rush of lust flared through me, and I reached out and caressed his chest, tracing one of the scratch marks, my finger moving slowly, lightly, so as not to wake him.
 
My finger moved farther down, until it reached his flaccid penis.
 
My hand curled over it and squeezed.
 
His shaft twitched slightly and Seton’s sleeping form stirred, his body shifting closer to me.
 
I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t wake.
 
His forehead furrowed into a slight frown, eyes still closed, his mouth slightly parted, and his face relaxed again as he settled back to sleep.
 
Smiling, I dropped another kiss to his neck and sank back into the pillows, willing myself to go back to sleep.
 
Yawning, I closed my eyes and let my mind drift back to the wonderful fourth act that Seton and I had performed just a few hours ago.
 

****

We were in the shower.
 
The rich scent of lavender curled through the air as we shampooed each other’s hair and soaped up each other’s limbs.
 
His gorgeous body glistened invitingly, drops of water caressing every muscle, every curve.
 
I ran soapy hands over every inch of him and didn’t stop until he was quivering with need.
 
Seton returned the favor by making me see stars for the umpteenth time when he pressed one of the handheld shower sprays against my clit.
 
Then he pinned me to the wall, guiding my hips up to his waist.
 
I wrapped my legs around him, the heel of my foot piercing his spectacular butt.
 

           
“Mmmm, that’s it,” he murmured as I felt the hard length of him slide easily into my aching passage.
  

I moaned, shuddering, and Seton responded with a loud groan that mingled with laughter.

“My wanton pet,” he said, driving into me in long, pummeling strokes.
 
“You’re my pet, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” I rasped out, basking in the joy of his dirty talk.
 
“I am.”

“And my whore?”

“That too,” I said breathlessly, slipping my fingers over my clitoris.

Seton let out a strangled grunt.
 
“Oh, yes,” he coaxed when he saw me reaching between my legs to touch myself.
 
“Touch yourself for me, darling.”

He continued to plunge into me as his hands snaked along my throat, forming a gentle noose around my neck.
 
His fingers began to add pressure around my neck.

My body trembled for a few seconds, and my fingers left my aching clit.
 
But I wasn’t frightened—far from it—I was actually… excited.
 
The pressure of his fingers around my neck, the roughness of it, made me giddy with passion, and I wanted to encourage him to continue in the same vein.

“You like that, my pet?” he asked.

I nodded and ground out, “Squeeze harder.”
 
He complied.

“Harder,” I repeated, my voice a little garbled.
 

He looked at me, puzzled by my request, but he complied again.
 
He squeezed my neck harder as he continued to batter me with his thrusts.
 
A sense of euphoria took over me, my body quivering with pleasure.
 
“Squeeze harder.”

He paused for a moment, his hand still circling my neck.
 
“Marjorie—”

“Harder!” I shouted.
 
He seemed uncertain at first, but complied yet again.
 
Rapture befell me whenever his fingers dug harder around my neck.
 
He controlled the air I breathed, and it was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated me.

Whatever it was that had ignited me had now passed over to Seton.
 
An animalistic force took over him.
 
He fucked me hard, fast, pumped into me like a ferocious beast, his hands tight around my neck.

“Say you’re mine,” he demanded gruffly.

“I’m yours,” I croaked, voice almost inaudible.

We were like animals, no longer human.
 
At least that’s how it felt to me.
 
My hands clawed at his chest, leaving red marks across the middle, and Seton screamed.
 
The sensation from the clawing must have fueled him, because his thrusts became so hard and powerful that I thought I would pass out from sheer pleasure.
 
My body jerked upright with every rapid thrust, my flesh slapping against his as water dripped over us.
 
“Again,” he said.
 
“Say you’re mine.”
 
His voice was a harsh command.

“I’m yours,” I said hoarsely.

His hands squeezed against my neck with an intensity that matched his merciless thrusts.
 
He was rough, but not so rough that he would hurt me or choke me to death.
 
“Again,” he growled.

“I’m yours.”

“Again!”

“I’m yours.”

“I’m yours, what?”

“I’m yours, Sir!”
 
I am yours, Sir, and I love you more than life itself.

Ecstasy washed over us as we rode out each other’s orgasms.
 
My breath left me in one loud
woosh
sound when Seton’s hands left my neck.
 
We remained joined together for a long time, too weak to move.
 
When the post-coital haze left us, Seton kissed me slowly, tenderly, as if we’d just finished making gentle love instead of fucking our brains out.
 
He wrapped a towel around my body and carried me to the bed.
 

We were in each other’s arms when Seton surprised me with, “Are you okay?
 
Was I too rough?”

“I like it rough.”

He smiled.
 
“I know you do.
 
That’s one of the many things I adore about you.”
 
He ran a hand across my cheek.
 
“You surprised me a little, demanding that I reduce your intake of breath that way.”