The Art of Domination (42 page)

I was hoping to christen the dungeon, but we’re both exhausted. 

“Sleep, love,” I tell her and she looks disappointed. “We have a lifetime of fucking ahead of us. Another night without it won’t kill us.”

She nods in agreement and we both doze off.

***

I wake
up feeling frightened. I’ve dreamt about my father again. It’s dark and I’m unfamiliar with my surroundings and start to feel panicked like I did at the cabin, but I hear Dylan’s heavy breathing next to me and I lay back down and hug him tightly. He wakes and pulls me close.

“Bad dream?”

“Yes.”

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

“You’re okay, Isa
. I’m here,” he whispers in my ear.

I can
’t fall back to sleep thinking about the things that have transpired over the last week. I remember Dylan saying that there were cameras in the house. I feel sick at the thought of what might have been recorded. What if that woman leaks those videos? That would be awful. No - it would be worse than awful; it would be humiliating and embarrassing. Not because I’m ashamed of what we do, but because those things are intimate and private.

I want my wedding ring back, damn it
.

My mind is running a marathon thinking about everything, including my mother. My heart breaks for her. I loved her so much. I miss her. I toss and turn, trying to fall back to
sleep and put all the images out of my mind, including the images of Erika with Dylan.

This is ridiculous. I get out of bed and decide to paint. I fumble through the room, trying to find a light switch to the stairwell and decide to take the elevator to the studio. It’s odd living in a house with an a
ctual elevator between floors.  Wearing only a T-shirt, I feel chilled. When I get to the studio I put on a pair of jeans and get to work. Another self-portrait is itching to get onto canvas. I’m not sure exactly why, but I don’t question my inspiration, I just paint what the voices in my head tell me to.

About an hour into painting, I hear footsteps in the stairwell and look over to see Dylan watching me. He’s rubbing his eyes and yawning
, and looks damned sexy in just his sleep pants. He sits on the loveseat that’s up against one of the large windows and he makes himself comfortable, not saying a word to me. He props up on one elbow and leans his head into his hand and watches me fixedly.

I wonder what he thinks when he’s watching me. I must look a mess, all black and blue, bed head and oversized T-shirt. I put my brush down and look over at him, feeling too self-conscious to continue with the painting.

“Don’t stop on account of me,” he says.

Why else would I stop? 

“It’s another amazing painting. You have an uncanny way of capturing yourself on canvas.”

“Thank you. It’s almost done.”

“I think this should go in the show, too.”

“No, t
his is one isn’t for everyone to see.” I say, feeling shy.

“Why not?”

How do I explain this is Dominant Isa? Can’t he see that?

“Because it’s Mistress Isa
bel?” he asks, reading my mind.

I feel my cheeks warm to his comment about Mistress Isa
bel again. “Yes. Only you get to see her.”

“That’s good logic. I’m not keen on anyone else seeing that side of you either.”

“Dylan, what if those videos are leaked?”

He looks distressed at my question but I can’t help but wonder what will happen.

“We’re working on finding out where the signal was sent. We can’t worry about that. Everything that can be done is being done.”

I walk over and sit on his lap and inhale his sexy scent.

“You smell so divine. Has anyone ever told you that? Wait… no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know,” I say, keeping my nose buried in his neck.

He laughs softly
and then answers me anyway. “No one has ever told me that.”

“I don’t believe you,” I tell him and start biting his tender spot near his earlobe. My left hand finds his wedding ring and I start twisting it around his long finger. 
I want him in me
. I want to ride him hard. I can’t take this anymore. If he tells me no one more time, I’ll go completely insane. I swear it. I’ll lose my friggin’ mind. I sit up and straddle him and reach down between his legs and grip him hard. He winces and narrows his eyes at me.

“I want you,” I demand.

“I can see that.”

Oh, brother.
“I mean it, Dylan. I want you, now.”

“Yes. I can clearly see that as evidenced by your rock hard nipples,” he says casually and with no expression on his face.

To hell with this
. I slap his face hard, taking him by complete surprise.

“That’s for making me wait,” I tell him.

I grab his hair and pull hard and kiss him viciously, forcing my tongue inside his mouth. I can taste his arousal. His breathing becomes rapid and I feel his cock get hard beneath me. He tries to reach up and touch me, but I grab his hands and pin them under my knees. I’m so turned on I can barely contain myself. I lean back and slap him again, more gently.

“That’s for telling me that
the only things that you make you happy are fucking and being in control.”

“I already told you…” he tries t
o interject but I put my finger up to his mouth.

“No more words. I want action. Fuck me hard or lose me forever,” I say.

His eyes burn blue hot and dilate and he clenches his jaw.

“Is that a threat?” h
e asks as he pulls his hands out from under my knees. He pulls my hair with one hand and grabs my jaw with the other.

Good. I hit a nerve. Maybe now I’ll get his big dick inside me.

“It’s a fact. Now fuck me,” I say more adamantly.

I can see he’s not amused but I don’t care. I want him so badly I can feel
my own cum threatening to leak out of every orifice in my body.  He moves at the speed of light and pushes me off of him, stands up and pulls my pants down, exposing my bare ass. I’m always amazed at how quick he can move when he’s determined to spank me. I hear myself gasp as he pushes me over the back of the couch and brings his hand down swiftly on to my ass. I grip the back of the couch and bury my face in the cushions, trying to muffle my scream.
That’ll leave a mark, I just know it
. He pulls back on my hair again, lifting my face off the couch.

“I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready, do you understand
?”

He spanks me hard, again and again, alternating cheeks.

“Don’t ever threaten to leave me,” he says leaning down into my ear. I feel tears threaten to break free from the welted feeling on my bottom. He turns me around and shoves me onto the love seat and pulls his pants down, exposing his massive hard-on pointing skyward.

“Suck it the way I like it this time. I don
’t want any of that slow shit. I want you to do it rough or I’ll bring you to task again.”

Hell yes, I’ll g
ive him what he wants. I jack him off rough and he moans out his approval. I lick him to get him nice and wet and then go deep. I hear myself groaning from how damned horny I am. I need him inside of me. Doesn’t he know I’m addicted to his touch and his love? I start fingering myself and Dylan pulls away from me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks with a heated look.

Crap. I forgot. I immediately stop, but the damage is already done. All I can do now is apologize.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”  

Dylan steps just out of reach and starts stroking himself, teasing and tormenting me.

“Because you can’t seem to remember the rules, I’ll remind you. Now you can watch me make myself cum, but tonight, you’ll go to b
ed without coming yourself.”

What the Holy bullshit?
  Is he kidding me? He continues to jerk himself off, grunting and really getting into it.

“Dylan. That’s not fair!” I yell at him. I start to stand but he puts an end to it.

“Sit your ass back down and watch. Do you think it was fair to threaten me to lose you forever? Or fair that you can’t seem to remember a simple rule about not touching yourself until given permission? Did you think about my feelings when you said and did those things?”

His eyes are ne
edy and I can see that I hurt his ego with my lack of self restraint. I guess I didn’t think about his feelings. As much as it pisses me off, I sit back down and decide to take my punishment like a big girl.

Dylan continues stroking himself
, his eyes watching me possessively.
Good God he’s beautiful
. He has no idea how amazing he looks doing this to himself. Or maybe he does and that’s why he’s teasing me. His movements become more rapid as he moves his hand up and down his long shaft. He cups his balls with his other hand and I feel my face flush with need. I squeeze my thighs together trying to give myself some kind of relief and grind myself into the couch. Dylan’s eyes flick up and down my body as he notes my movements.  He hisses through his teeth and moans as he nears his finish.

“Crawl over here and spit on it for me,” he orders.

I eagerly comply. I crawl quickly to him and rise up on my knees and lube him. I sit back on my knees and continue to watch. Being this close to him I can smell his delectable scent. The sloppy sounds of his masturbation and his breathing are sending prickles of desire over my skin and down deep in my belly. I press my thighs together again, trying to satiate my aching need. I close my eyes tightly and imagine Dylan is fucking me hard.

“Open your eyes and watch
,” Dylan groans out while tugging my hair.

I open
my eyes just in time to see a magnificent stream of his hot cum aimed at me. I open my mouth like a hungry bird and drink it up. He rubs his cock all over my face and slaps my cheek with it, for good measure, I guess, and to remind that he’s still the boss.

“
Paint that,” he retorts sarcastically.

Oh, I definitely will, and I’ll make sure
it’ll be undeniable that’s it’s him in the painting. How will he like that? Seeing his big dick being jerked off by his own hand on a wall mural the size of Washington Park for whole the world to see? That’ll be good for his public image, won’t it?

I stand up, wipe
my mouth and face and mope into the bathroom. I’m washing my face when Dylan comes walking in. He stands in the doorway watching me, but I won’t look him in the eye. I dry my face and push past him and climb the stairs to the living room with Dylan on my heels. I’m starving and horny as hell. I dig around in the refrigerator and Dylan spins me around to look at him.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Does it really matter? I’m hungry. Now leave me alone,” I pout and turn back around. I find a banana on the counter and take out a bottle of water.

“Of course it matters. I don’t want you to be angry with me. I just don’t appreciate you threatening me
and disobeying the rules.”

“You already made your point,
” I say with a mouthful of fruit.

“Did I?”

“Oh, for the love of dick, yes. Now leave me alone.”

“Never. If you want, I’ll fuck you now.”

The gall
. I wouldn’t fuck him now if my clit was on fire and needed to be doused with nub-saving cum. I roll my eyes at him.

“No thanks, we
have a lifetime of fucking ahead of us,” I say mockingly.

He shrugs a
nd starts to walk away as if it makes no difference to him one way or the other
. He’s such a jackass sometimes
. Before I can stop myself I throw my half-eaten banana at him and it hits him on the back of his neck.

He spins around, wipes his neck and looks down at the banana on the floor.

“Did you really just fruitally assault me?”

He thinks he’s
so damned funny with his wordplay.
“Considering I got cheated out of a fuck, consider yourself lucky,” I say crabbily.