The_Submissive - Tara Sue Me (13 page)

The room was large and the late-afternoon sun slanted through windows that ran floor to ceiling along one wall. But the other walls…they held shelf after shelf of books. Nothing but books. There was even a movable ladder attached to one wall, so you could reach the upper shelves.

Two overstuffed couches sat near the center of everything. But in the very middle of the room, in the place of honor, was an exquisite grand piano.

“I want this to be your room,” Nathaniel said. “When you’re in this room, you are free to be you. Your thoughts. Your desires. It’s all yours. Except for the piano. The piano is mine.”

I walked in awe around the room, dragging my hand along book spines. It was an unparalleled collection—first editions, antique volumes—I couldn’t take it all in. The rich wood, the leather-bound books, it was too much.

“Abigail?”

I turned to look at him.

“You’re crying,” he whispered. “Again.”

“It’s so beautiful.”

He smiled. “You like it?”

I walked back to him and put my arms around him. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

It had been a long two days.

Not that I was bored or anything. Exploring the library was my new favorite pastime and I spent hours discovering new books and reacquainting myself with old friends.

Nathaniel was considerate. Polite. Perhaps a bit distant. He kept me well fed and rested. He even joined me in the library on occasion, but didn’t stay very long. I rather missed his domineering side. Not enough to purposely antagonize him or anything. I didn’t miss it
that
much.

The car conversation never came back up. I thought back to what he’d said, how it was his responsibility to care for me. To ensure my needs were met. He was doing exactly that over the weekend. And as much as I wanted to pretend his gestures at the hospital and giving me the library as free space were romantic, I knew better. He was doing what he said in the car—making sure my needs were met. It was a means to an end. He needed a healthy submissive and he’d do
anything within his power to make me healthy. That’s all there was to it. Bottom line.

But I was the littlest bit peeved he hadn’t touched me. I’d rested all weekend, I felt perfectly fine.

And I had needs that
weren’t
being met.

I put the glass I’d been using in the dishwasher and left the kitchen. I glanced at my watch—one o’clock. The football game didn’t start until three. Plenty of time.

I walked past the gym. Empty. No Nathaniel in the living room. I wondered if he was outside or in his bedroom. No, he was working in the library. Sitting at a small desk in the corner.

He glanced up when I walked in. “Everything all right? Do you need something?”

“Yes. You.” I slipped the shirt over my head.

He put down the papers he’d been reading. “You need to rest.”

That didn’t sound like a direct order, so I didn’t say anything. I unbuttoned my pants and slipped them down. Stepped out of them. And it was
my
library.

He sat looking at me with a blank expression. What was he thinking? He wasn’t going to tell me to leave, was he? I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra. I didn’t think I could handle it if he turned me down.

What if he turns me down?

I pushed my panties down and they fell to the floor.
It was my library, but he had free will as well, he could turn me down.

I’d never felt more exposed in my life.

Nothing from Nathaniel.

He was going to turn me down.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed his chair back. Opened the desk drawer and took something out. Seven steps and he stood before me. He ran his hands down my shoulders, along my arms, and took my hands. He placed them on the front of his button-down shirt, slipping something into my hand.

“Okay,” he said.

I looked inside my fist. A condom.

Because antibiotics invalidated birth control pills.

Victory surged through me. Excitement shot from my head straight to the center of my being and down to the aching spot between my legs.

I dropped the condom on the floor. My fingers fumbled with his buttons, but I worked my way through them. Pushed the shirt from his shoulders, yanked it from his pants. I ran my hands down his chest, remembering the feel of him, tracing the planes of his stomach. I walked around him. I loved the sight of a man’s back.

His back was perfect, of course. I circled his shoulder blades and reached up on tiptoe to place a kiss at the juncture between them. He sucked in a breath, but didn’t touch me, allowing me to explore on my terms. I licked down the line of his spine, savoring his taste.

I walked back to the front of him and dropped to my knees. He was erect and straining the front of his pants.

Well, well, well.

I brushed him with my fingertips, eliciting a hiss. Very slowly, I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, making sure I stroked him every so often through the material. I went even slower with his zipper, roughly dragging my fingers the entire way.

He grew even harder.

I pulled his pants and boxers down at the same time, freeing him at last. His cock bobbed in front of my face. I leaned forward and took him forcefully into my mouth, wrapping my arms around his backside and pulling him toward me at the same time. He steadied himself briefly by resting his hands on my head. Gently.

I sucked him hard, relishing the feel of having him in my mouth again. I ripped open the foil package at my knees, rolled the condom down his length, and got to my feet. The couch was behind him; I pushed on his chest and he moved backward. We landed on it together, my legs straddling him.

He leaned forward and drew a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until I groaned in pleasure. But this was my show, so I pushed him back down and positioned myself right above his cock.

I lowered myself on him, inch by delicious inch, delighting in how he filled me.

“Abigail,” he groaned, trying to thrust up against me.

I held him down and pushed until he was completely inside. Then
I
groaned. I stopped for a few seconds to concentrate on how it felt. How it felt to have him under me and in me.
Heaven.
I leaned forward into his chest and he sucked my nipple into his mouth again.
Ohh. Even better.

I started a slow, grinding rhythm, pressing down and lifting up as my hips moved round and round. Nathaniel helped, thrusting up to meet me. We began a sultry, erotic dance. Up and down and around. Over and over.

His hands weren’t still. They circled my waist, ran up my back, cupped my breasts. His breathing got choppy. Then he grabbed my waist and worked me up and down, thrusting into me harder, even as I pushed down. I couldn’t get enough of him. Couldn’t get him deep enough.

“Damn it, Abigail.” He groaned and thrust upward again, hitting a new spot.

I was close, so I moved quicker. He realized what I was doing and joined me, driving into me, helping me reach it.

Release flooded my shaking body and he followed seconds later, thrusting one last time, grunting as he came.

We lay on the couch, letting our breathing return
to normal. Waiting for our limbs to work again. Or maybe that was just me. The accident had taken more out of me than I’d thought.

Nathaniel rolled us so we were on our sides and I was between him and the couch. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” I said with a smirk. The library was my new favorite room, for sure. He could remove all the books and it would still be my favorite. I ran a hand down his chest.
Mine.
In this room I could pretend he was mine.

He took my hand and held it to his chest. “I want you to take it easy the rest of the day.”

“Okay.” I could do that, since I’d gotten what I wanted.

He rolled off the couch, threw the condom away, and gathered his clothes. “What type pizza do you like?” he asked, buttoning his shirt.

Mr. Eat-this-and-not-that wanted pizza? For real?

He sensed my hesitation. “The Clark family has to eat pizza and hot wings during every play-off game. If we didn’t and the Giants lost, Jackson would disown us.”

“I’ve heard of crazier superstitions,” I said, getting off the couch. “Just don’t tell me if he wears the same unwashed underwear.”

“My lips are sealed.”

In more ways than one, I thought, wondering if he’d ever kiss me.

“Mushroom,” I said, deciding not to dwell on his lips. “I like mushroom pizza. And bacon.”

“Mushroom and bacon it is.” He pulled his boxers back on. “Picnic on the floor sound good?”

Nathaniel on the floor surrounded by pillows and pizza? My mind wandered…

“Abigail?”

“Yes. Picnic on the floor would be great.”

But I hadn’t fooled him one bit.

“You will take it easy the rest of the day.”

He brought my collar out during half-time.

Up to that point, we’d been doing our part for Jackson, eating hot wings and pizza. And it was working—the Giants were up by a touchdown.

He turned the TV off and stood by me, holding the collar out. “Elaina gave it to me at the hospital.”

I couldn’t lie to him, even if it was a lie by omission. “Elaina knows,” I said, then hastened to add, “but it wasn’t me. I didn’t tell her.”

He nodded. “I thought as much. Thank you for being honest.” He hesitated for a minute. “I want to make sure you still want this, I wasn’t sure…” His eyes met mine. “You know more now, maybe you don’t…want it.”

“I want it.”

Surprise lit his eyes for just a second.
He thought I would say no.
I rose to my knees and dropped my head, ready for him to put the collar back on.

“Look at me, Abigail.”

I looked at him. He faced me, dropping to his knees and reaching around my neck to fasten it, then ran his fingers through my hair. His eyes darkened, dipped to my lips, and back to my eyes. He moved the tiniest bit forward.

He’s going to kiss me.

I was frozen. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

Then his eyes opened and he got to his feet to turn the game back on.

Disappointment swept over me.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I brought my hand to my neck. But I still had his collar. Still had that part of him. He still wanted
me.

New York won by a point.

“You know what this means?” Nathaniel asked as they showed a close-up of Jackson pumping his fist in the air.

“We’re going to the Super Bowl?”

“Yes,” he said, fingering the collar. “And I have plans for the Super Bowl.”

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Felicia came over Monday night all abuzz. Philly was great. The game was great. The Wellings were great. But mostly, Jackson. Jackson was great. She was one hundred percent, totally, head-over-heels in love. After what? Two weeks? It was crazy.

I was thrilled for her.

Once she calmed down, I asked her about her argument with Nathaniel.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was nothing, really.”