Authors: Winter Renshaw
DANE
I don’t make a habit of opening myself up personally. I’m
not fond of feeling or looking weak, and I absolutely abhor the way people look
at me when I tell them.
“You were a lost boy?” Her eyes mist, and I hate that she’s
feeling sorry for me.
“Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t what?” Her hand covers my forearm.
“Don’t look at me like that, like I’m some lost soul you
feel sorry for.”
“What those FLDS communities do to those young boys is
awful. Of course I’m going to feel sorry for them.
For
you
.
You were a victim.”
I need something stronger than this Moet and
Chandon
, but right now it’s all I have. I toss it back and
pull in a deep breath, wishing I could go back to the moment right before I
told her and change course.
“I don’t feel sorry for myself, and I’ll be extremely
displeased with you if you ever look at me like that again.” I set my empty
flute on a passing tray, forcing her to release her hold on me.
“It’s okay to be vulnerable once in a while.”
“Not for me, and we’re done discussing it.” I adjust the
knot of my tie. “Let’s make a final round before guests start leaving in
droves. This party’s about to end, and a new one will be starting shortly.”
I extend my elbow, and her delicate hand hooks my arm as we
veer toward a group of bishops mingling with a handful of lobbyists sponsored
by wealthy benefactors. We’re all here raising money to fight the good fight.
No young man should ever be driven to a
dirt road ten miles from the nearest town with no more than twenty dollars in
his pocket and a sack lunch.
Watching the red
tail lights
of the compound’s seventeenth Suburban disappear in a cloud of gravel dust was
a defining moment for me.
I’d like to think that was the moment I first died inside.
Discovering Jenessa’s secret was the second. I know for a fact, I’ll never meet
death again because I’m already dead on the inside. I’m not capable of love,
and I have no business fantasizing about such a fleeting, temporary thing.
“Dane, thank you so much for hosting this evening.” Margaret
Hollingsworth floats up to my side, placing her hand on my shoulder. She has a
mother’s touch and delivery of a ball-busting church elder’s wife. “We had a
marvelous time. Do let us know if there’s anything you need from us.”
“You’re most welcome, Margaret. I have your number.”
We greet my leaving guests in a makeshift reception line,
and after we’ve said the final goodbye of the evening, I turn to Bellamy.
“You’re quiet,” I say, eyeing the curved staircase that
leads to the north wing of the estate. “Are you ready?”
Bellamy’s eyes close and slowly reopen before she releases a
sweet sigh. “I’m ready.”
Caterers swirl around us, and the pianist packs up his sheet
music. The cleaning crew sweeps, and spritzes, and runs about with bags of
trash.
But right now, it’s just us.
No one else exists.
No one else matters.
I take her hand, leading her upstairs, and she trembles. Warmth
radiates from her tender cheek the second I stroke my hand across it and cup
her face. The moment we’re around the corner, I press her body against the
closest wall and claim her mouth with mine.
Her tongue is champagne and velvet. The kiss is deep. Needy.
I’m not sure who needs it more, but I’m not about to ruin this moment by giving
two fucks. All that
matters is
this is happening.
I grab the back of her dress, yanking it apart in two pieces
straight down the back. She gasps, pulling away from me for a second.
“I’ve been dying to do that to you.” I flash a crooked grin
before smashing her lips once again. We let the dress fall to a heap on the
hallway rug, and my hands slide down her back before cupping the underside of
her cherry ass. She climbs me, her legs hooking around my hips, and I carry her
to the last room at the end of the hall.
I kick the door shut with the bottom of my dress shoe and
deposit Bellamy on the center of my four-poster bed. The lace lingerie she dons
looks amazing, but I know for a fact, a naked Bellamy would look even better.
She kicks her heels off and pushes herself back against a
mountain of pillows, her chest rising and falling as she watches me loosen my
tie. I remove it off with one fluid pull and work my buttons. My cock throbs,
pressing against my pants and aching to be inside the beautiful ingénue who
belongs only to me.
I’m not insensitive to the fact that this will be her first
time knowing what a real cock feels like inside her. As much as I’d love to
push her limits and fuck her seven ways from Sunday, I’m going to have to find
some satisfactory middle ground.
“You’re on my bed, Bellamy, but I’m slightly confused as to
why you’re not naked yet?” My pants fall to the floor, and I climb across the
bed, delighting when I catch the faint scent of her arousal.
“Waiting for your command.”
“Good.” I reach toward her breasts, feeling the peaked
nipple protruding from her lace bra. My palm rakes against it, pressing the
fabric against her sensitive buds until her head falls back into the pillows.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Please don’t stop.”
I pull away, reminding her I call the shots, and I’m still
very much in control here. The drawer in the left bedside table contains a few
items I intended to use tonight, so I reach across and slide it out.
Restraints. A blindfold. Some toys. A condom. Since it’s her
first time, we’re going back to basics.
I slip the red satin blindfold over her eyes and graze my lips
across hers just enough to tease her with the false promise of a kiss.
Restricting her vision will make every touch, every lick, every graze, a
thousand times more potent.
“Give me your wrists,” I say. She doesn’t hesitate, and she
doesn’t say a single word as I secure the black straps to the bedposts and
tighten them. “Ankles.”
Her shapely legs drag up the bed cover, finding my hands in
the dimly lit room. After securing her to all four posts, I retrieve a feather
tickler. I skim her full lips before softly dragging it down her neck between
her breasts and swirling it over top of her mound.
“Would you like me to undress you all the way?” I offer.
“Yes,” she heaves. “Please. I’m ready.”
I yank her panties off, dragging them across her
constricting belly before unhooking her bra. Her breasts react to the cool
evening air, swollen and pert. My mouth takes a nipple, swirling and sucking
before releasing it.
My fingers trail down her stomach again, and it caves in
response. I stop at her mound, forcing her to wait a few extra seconds because
I can, and then I slip a single finger between her wet folds.
“God, you’re so wet.” I push a finger inside her, followed
by a second, as my thumb circles her clit. “Every part of you is extremely
turned on right now.”
“All week,” she pants. “You knew what you were doing.”
“Of course I did,” I smirk. “It was your punishment. You
withheld yourself from me that first weekend, this week I returned the favor.”
I retract my hand and lean down, running my tongue along her
seam and barely grazing her clit. Her hips buck from the tiniest level of
sensation I gifted her, and she whimpers.
“You want that release, don’t you, Angel?” I rest my hand on
her inner thigh, feeling it shake and tremble. “You’ve been waiting all week
for this, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” She pushes her back into the pillows and tugs on the
restraints. “I’ve been so good. I’ve waited, just like you said.”
I massage her again, just enough that she bucks her hips.
“Fight it,” I direct. “Not yet.”
Her knees fight against the restraints, wanting to buckle
together, but I pin them flat, giving her inner thighs a light slap. “No, no,
Angel. You’re giving yourself to me tonight, just like you wanted. Do you still
want to be with me?”
“I do.” Her tongue glides across her bottom lip. “Please
don’t make me wait. I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
“You can and you will.”
I climb between her spread legs, lowering my tongue a bit
more. As much as I’d love to devour her all night, the struggle is real. A few
more licks and she’ll come all over my tongue.
She moans through tightened lips, her hands gripping and
pulling at the restraints.
I’m hard as a rock, literally aching. This demonstration in
self-control is just as much mine as it is hers.
“Please, Dane.”
My activity pauses.
She called me Dane.
Not Master.
Eyeing her writhing body, I know damn well it’s too late to
stop any of this. She wants me, and God, do I want her. But we’re not Dane and
Bellamy. This isn’t some sensual, erotic romance filled evening.
It’s
just sex.
“You will address me as Master,” I remind her, lightly
slapping her inner thigh. She flinches and nods.
“Yes, Master. I’m so sorry.”
Perhaps she’s too distracted by the intense physical reaction
she’s fighting to worry about proper protocol. I’ll give her the benefit of the
doubt but only because my impatience is beginning to get the best of me.
I reach across the bed for the condom, tearing it the packet
with my teeth and gripping the base of my cock as I slide it down. Positioning
myself between her wriggling hips, I press the tip against her clit, rubbing it
back and forth, up and down.
“We’re getting close, Angel.” I plunge the head into her
soft, wet entrance. The muscles in her stomach ripple and she tugs against the
restraints once more. I push myself in another inch, focusing on the way her
body tries shakes in response. When I reach for her nipple and twist it between
my fingers, I plunge myself in all at once.
Bellamy moans through pursed lips, her body tensing and
releasing. I pull out and reinsert slowly, feeling her tightness as she clamps
around me. Even her body refuses to let me go. My thrusts are soft at first,
gentle. I gauge her arousal, ensuring I’m not going to hurt her and pick up in
intensity.
Harder. Deeper. Faster.
Her pussy is unspoiled. Pristine. Perfect in every way.
“How does it feel?” I reach my hand behind her ass, cupping
it and pushing her into me as I thrust deeper.
“Amazing.” Her lips part, and I lower mine to them to steal
a brief kiss. “Please don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop what? Kissing you or fucking you?”
“Both.”
A slow smile takes up my face, and I’m grateful she can’t
see it. I’d hate for her to know exactly how much I’m enjoying taking her
innocence and having her wrapped around my throbbing cock.
I can say with absolute certainty, without even blowing my
load yet, she was worth the wait.
She bucks against me as best she can, considering she’s
pretty tight, and I know she’s getting close.
But fuck, so am I.
I sink myself into her over and over, slipping faster
against her slickness and creating a hot friction building up to the moment
I’ve been waiting for since the day we met.
“You can come now.”
My final thrusts are powerhouses, and the build up from the
base of my shaft travels up until I explode inside her clenched walls. Bellamy
squeals and her chin juts forward as her mouth forms a locked circle. I keep
pumping until I’m completely spent and the muscles in her face have finally
relaxed.
“Dane,” she sighs.
I pull out and drag my fingertips along her legs, un-cuffing
her ankles and then traveling to her wrists. When she’s free, she pulls off her
blindfold and offers me the most delirious smile.
“You’re not to call me Dane.” I shouldn’t have to remind her
twice. Sure, the woman is coming down from the most intense orgasm she’s ever
experienced in her life, but it’s no excuse. “Not in bed. In bed, I’m your
master.”
She climbs off the bed. “You just screwed me. I can’t call
you by your first name?”
Her arms fold across her chest, indicating the wind has
suddenly changed directions. Lucky for us, I’m a skilled sailor who’s met more
storms than smooth seas.
“Don’t,” I walk around the bed toward her, running my palms
down her arms. “Don’t ruin this beautiful moment with a tantrum.”
“It’s not a tantrum. I just don’t understand. We’re both
adults. You had your cock inside me. I can’t call you Dane?”
“Not during sex.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I’m still your Dom.
You
’re still
my sub. It makes perfect sense. Did you think something was going to change
because I took you home with me?”