“Yeah, it is.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth, and cursed under his breath. “When I think of you … pregnant. With my child. It …
calls
to something in me. This possessiveness, I guess.”
Yes. God, yes.
Oh how she wanted him to feel that, to be that. She was his woman, and she was carrying his child. It filled her with love, and lust, and excitement, and
joy
that he saw her in that way. She liked the feeling of being his, even of being possessed by him. She’d never have admitted it before, but after they’d gotten the news, it had changed something in her. Something had reoriented itself within her, a piece had fallen into place. And though it was confusing, and scary, she wanted,
needed
, to see where it went.
“Keihl, I like that. That you see me that way.” She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “It’s a
huge
turn-on, actually.”
His eyes went wide, his mouth opening. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply regarded her in silence, as if watching, gauging, what the unpredictable female creature sitting across from him might do next.
“That’s it though, Kirsten. When I think of you swollen with the baby … it makes me want
more
of The Game. It makes me want so much more. And it’s the exact thing I can’t do, the exact thing that’s
not
right for you now.”
Oh but you’re wrong about that, you beautiful man.
“Then we’ll figure it out.” She squeezed his hand, giving him what she hoped was her winningest smile. “I trust you. Sir.”
“You haven’t answered my question though, wifey.”
“Ever the interrogator, counselor.”
“Damn right.” He gave her a devastating arch of his dark brow that made her want to lick every inch of him.
Now’s the time, Kirsten. Just say it. No guts, no glory.
“She and I talked about how her marriage started out. Some of the things they did, what worked, what didn’t. She told me about this … website too. How would you feel about a Head of Household arrangement?”
“A what?”
Steady, girl. Steady.
“Have you ever heard of something called a Taken In Hand relationship?”
It was Keihl’s turn to blush, and she brought a hand to her mouth to cover her smile.
“Yeah, I have actually. It’s… something I’ve read about. What made you ask that though?”
“I want to try it.”
“Us? Now?”
“As soon as you’re ready, yes.”
Her heart was instantly pounding, a rushing sound in her ears increasing by the second.
He winced, then looked away, stroking a hand across his chin. Then he locked his gaze upon her.
“Okay.”
Yesyesyesyes.
“Just ‘okay’? No questions?”
Keihl flashed her a devilish grin. “It’s just like you said. We’ll figure it out.”
“There’s… there’s a site she and I talked about that sort of explains it. What it can be, how it might work. I mean — if you’re curious how others do it.” She pulled her cell from her purse, fingers whirring over the screen. “There, I just sent you the link. I’d feel too stupid saying it out loud.”
He pulled out his phone, looking at it for a moment. Then he laughed softly, putting the phone back in his pocket, a wry smile curving his lips.
“That’s adorable,” he said. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“Must be why you like making me feel it so often then.”
Leaning across the table, he traced the line of her lips with his finger. “You have no idea, bad girl.”
She gasped, her nipples instantly tightening at the words.
Bad girl.
But he didn’t give her time to process any of it, wonder what it all might mean. He took up the menu, drumming his fingers along the base of her palm.
“As you say — we’ll figure it out.” He winked and looked at her over the menu. “First we figure out how to get some food in you without making you hurl. Then we get to figure out what punishment is most appropriate for my girl when we get home.”
He was right, Kirsten. Be careful what you ask for indeed.
Chapter Fifteen
T
he door hadn’t even closed before he took her hand, turning her back toward him. Her eyes were wide, bright, peering up at him.
“Everything off.”
Nodding, she looked down, fingers already working at the buttons of the blouse.
“You forgot something.”
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks darkening with a blush. “Sorry. Yes, Sir.”
He kissed the top of her head, then walked over to the couch. He sat, splaying his legs apart, his erection blatant beneath the fly of his slacks.
“Over here. I want to watch you.”
She paused, still working buttons loose. “The windows—”
“I don’t care. Come closer.” He indicated the floor between his outstretched legs. “Right here.”
The sway of her hips in the tight skirt almost had him groaning as she crossed the room to him. He reached out, smoothing his hands up and down her hips, savoring the firmness of her upper thighs.
“Take your time. From now on, when I tell you to strip, you’ll do it to please me. First, and foremost, that means you take it slow, and let me look at you as you do it. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Her little nervous smile made his heart soar. Her acquiescence spoke to something inside of him, his need to be in control, more specifically, to be in control of
her
. She slipped the last button of her blouse, tugging it from the clutch of her skirt, but leaving it hanging open. Rather than take it off, her hand moved to the front clasp of her bra, snapping it open. He inhaled slowly as she pulled the lace free, her breasts moving in that languid way that had his cock throbbing, his hands itching to take their soft weight in his palms. Shrugging her arms free, the blouse dropped to the floor, a pool of white around the heels he still couldn’t believe she’d worn on a plane.
Keihl stared at her beautiful breasts, already imagining how they’d change, wondering if they already seemed a little fuller than last time he’d seen them. She pulled her shoulders back, her blush deepening, her eyes downcast, knowing what he was looking at.
He pointed at her feet. “Don’t you get funny looks when you have to take those off at the security check point? Not exactly travel shoes.”
“I definitely get looks, but I don’t think I’d call them funny.”
Her mischievous smile appeared again, and he cleared his throat, masking his own laugh.
“Yes, I’ll just bet you do, don’t you?”
He imagined the hard-ons the TSA men would be hiding behind their counters as they watched the lithe woman in the tight skirt bending to remove those heels. Yes, she’d be getting looks, all right.
“Now, the skirt.”
She gave him a little nibble of her lip as she reached back for the zipper, throwing her generous breasts into even greater prominence. His gaze wandered down her belly, his eye looking closely, trying to discern the slightest new curve. But there was nothing, as yet.
“When do you start showing?”
She shrugged despite the sway it imparted to her breasts. “Depends on the woman, I guess. Two, three months?”
He drank in the still flat plane of her belly, the deep, dark navel, the trim, petite waist, and wondered if she’d be earlier than that. He found he couldn’t wait.
Preggo fetishist now?
It wasn’t that simple though. Not by a long shot. Sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly normal to be so aroused at the thought of his pregnant wife, swollen with their child, but he didn’t care. This was between Kirsten and him. Nobody else mattered. He’d examine just what the fuck had come over him some other time. For now, he intended to enjoy himself — and enjoy
her
.
The dark skirt joined the blouse and bra on the floor boards, leaving her in nothing but a tiny set of black panties, and those borderline slutty heels. His fingers snapped at the waistband of the panties.
“I see the underwear matches the shoes. Meeting someone?”
“A strange, frightening man. But no matter what I do, I’m drawn to him. I can’t help myself.”
He curled his finger slowly, beckoning her closer.
“Sounds like an evil bastard.”
She bent over, the heavy, ripe breasts brushing softly together below her. She laid a hand on either of his knees, an electric current traveling up his inner thighs, making his balls tingle.
“Oh he
is
.” She reached back and untied her hair. “A terrible, cruel man.”
Her hair fell around her face as she drew close, her light, pleasant scent surrounding him. He guided her hands back to his knees, then took up that luxurious dark hair he’d never tire of running through his fingers. He fisted a hand in the strands.
“Now, is that any way to talk about your Sir?”
Then he brought her lips to his, tasting her, their tongues finding one another, the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her breath taking his away. He pulled her back with a little bite to her upper lip. Her eyes fluttered, then she smiled at him.
“No, it isn’t.” Her eyes sparkled within that dark veil of her hair. “I wonder what should be done about that?”
Keihl kissed her on the nose, then brought her forehead to his. He gazed into those big, bright eyes.
“Go upstairs and lay face down on the bed. You’re about to find out.”
Kirsten watched him over her shoulder as she took the stairs reluctantly. She seemed to wonder why he wasn’t following.
“Get going, Kirsten.”
Her pace quickened, but just before she’d passed out of view, he stopped her.
“One more thing.”
She turned, bending over the railing so that she could see him from halfway up the stairs.
“I changed my mind. I want you kneeling by the side of the bed, facing it.”
He didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath nor the flash of her eyes at his pronouncement.
“And I want you naked.”
She paused, her eyes big as dinner plates, her fingers nervously drumming along the worn wood of the railing.
“Now.”
Kirsten turned, stumbling a moment, then disappeared up the stairs at almost a run.
For just a moment, Keihl sat there, looking out the big picture window at the waning afternoon sunlight.
Where could this go from here? Part of him knew the answer, and no matter his bitter resentment of it, he knew it was right. Despite what they’d explored together, despite learning more about themselves, and their desires in the last three months than they had in the past five
years
of marriage, certain realities were inescapable. The Game — or at least some parts of it — and bringing a baby into this world were simply incompatible. Already, he fought the instinctive urge to protect her at all costs, to — cliché as it was — put the woman on this protective pedestal, above, safe from any danger. That urge, useful though it was for perpetuation of the species, somehow walled her off from him though — or perhaps it was the other way around? He’d just started to get inside this woman’s head, really learn what made her tick, and now, he feared that it would go no further — at least for the duration.
He stood, adjusting the now throbbing erection in his pants.
And then it came to him, and he cursed under his breath. Maybe there was another way? Maybe getting inside her head, exploring those fantasies that she’d thus far merely hinted at, was the adaptation, the adjustment that was needed. He’d seen in her eyes that same fear, that same doubt, he felt. It was up to him to figure out how to make this work, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up yet. She was worth more. She was worth
anything
.
Yes, unfortunately, his days of beating that sweet, round bottom until it shone a flaming scarlet were over. Just admitting that much to himself was a breakthrough — that acknowledgment that punishing her turned him on, that pain — and giving it — turned him on, at least in that context. Rather than collapse into a neurotic ball of worry and self-doubt as he once might have, he was (more or less) at peace with that fact, that acknowledgment of who —and what — he was. God had seen fit to gift him with an incredible woman who sensed that in him, somehow picked up on it, and rather than flee from it, it drew her to him. He’d said it before, but he’d say it again — he was the luckiest asshole on the face of the Earth.
That wasn’t the only discovery he’d made about himself though. It wasn’t just that he had a sadistic streak in him — there was something else he’d learned he craved, something that spoke to him on a primal level, that made his blood fire with the heat of arousal, with the dark energy of lust, and possession.
Control.
Telling Kirsten what to do, and then watching her do it. It really was that simple. Now he saw the path forward. Yes, backing off on the physical punishment was warranted, but he knew now that there were many other ways to meet Kirsten’s needs — and to meet his too.