room, reading. He looked up as I entered, his green eyes traveling over every inch of me, never glancing away. I took a seat beside him and my heart rate increased as he slipped a hand into my hair and pulled me close for a kiss.
“You smell incredible and you look sexy as hell,” he said against my lips.
“You’re not bad yourself,” I replied. He’d changed out of his suit and now wore the old jeans that hugged his ass and a tee shirt that similarly hugged his abs—my favorite outfit for him.
He pulled away and settled his back against the couch. “I had a call today from Simon.”
“Oh?” Simon had moved into the area years ago and was part of our BDSM group. He, like Nathaniel, was a Dominant.
“He’s met someone online and she’s relatively inexperienced. He was wondering if they could come over on Saturday.”
Before getting pregnant with Henry, we’d started mentoring couples. Years ago, my weekend with Nathaniel’s old mentor and his wife, had helped me so much. I wanted to do the same for new submissives. But after getting pregnant and in particular, after giving birth, there hadn’t been much mentoring going on.
Without thinking, I stroked my bare neck, missing the long, intense playroom sessions that lasted all weekend. These days they were just about as likely to happen as me getting forty-five uninterrupted minutes to make dinner.
“I’m probably the one in need of a mentor session,” I joked. “It’s so long between our scheduled dates.”
Nathaniel didn’t laugh. “I miss the way we used to be, Abby.”
“I know . . . me, too,” I murmured.
He leaned forward and studied me silently for a few seconds. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. Just life happening.”
“I wonder when we decided ‘fine’ was an acceptable way to live?” He took my right hand and twisted the ring there. The one he’d given me on our wedding day that symbolized his dominance over me. “I wonder if once a month is enough? I miss seeing you kneel before me, wearing only my collar, waiting for me to decide how I’ll use you.”
“Nathaniel.”
“Shhh.” His finger traced my lips and brushed the hollow of my throat. “You miss it, too. You know you do. The way you yield your body to me, longing for the release you know I’ll give.”
I didn’t even attempt to argue. I knew for a fact how many times I’d nearly begged him to take me over his knees and spank me during the week. There was something soothing in the emotional release I knew I’d find there. Held tightly on my stomach across his lap. His free hand striking my ass over and over.
Other times I’d watch him move around the house and I’d remember how years ago, he’d be the one watching me. I recalled how his eyes would follow me until finally he’d get up and either force me to my knees or push me against a wall. His barely controlled lust kept just in check enough to ensure I was prepared to take him.
“Show me I’m right. Show me how much you miss it.” He slipped his thumb inside my mouth. “Suck it like a good girl.”
My belly tightened as I drew his thumb in deeper. I could deny him nothing when he touched me.
“That’s it,” he said. “Do it good enough and I’ll let you taste my dick. Do it really good and I’ll take you over my knees and bring out the strap.”
I opened my mouth in shock.
“Suck it, Abigail. I didn’t say to stop.” When I continued, he started talking once again. “You think I don’t know what you want? What you need? You’re due for a sound thrashing and a long, hard fuck.”
I moaned around his thumb and he slid his other hand to cup my breast, gently rubbing my nipple.
“That’s it, my lovely, suck it. Think about how turned on you’ll be when I drag you across my knee. Imagine me spanking your ass and fucking you with my fingers.”
I bucked my hips up, trying to get some pressure on my clit, but he tightened the hand at my face. “Be still. You haven’t earned my cock yet, much less an orgasm.”
I kept up my work on his thumb, sucking and licking, just as I would have if his cock was in my mouth. All the while, his fingertips fondled my breasts. It drove me mad that he wasn’t paying any attention to anything below my waist.
Finally, he slipped his thumb from my mouth. “I hope you don’t have anything else planned for tonight because I’m going to Fucking. Wear. You. Out.”
“Please,” I moaned.
A wicked look came over his expression. “But not just yet. First, I’m going to fuck that mouth and throat of yours. Then maybe I’ll take that sweet pussy. Or beat your ass. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Yes, Sir. Please. All of them.”
“Greedy girl.” He nodded to the floor.
I slowly rose to my feet and slipped the gown over my head.
“Very nice,” he said as I lowered myself before him in the middle of the room. “Spread your legs. Let me see how wet that greedy pussy is.”
It had been over three weeks since I’d knelt and I struggled a bit getting into position. The entire time he watched, sitting relaxed on the couch. The only sign he was affected was the growing bulge of his erection.
“Something to work on,” he said. “Your knees are still out of habit. Though I do see you’ve waxed.”
I held back a snort. Like I’d ever forget that again. “Yes, Sir.”
“Come get my cock out.”
I crawled over to him. Years ago I hated crawling. It still didn’t rank very high on my list of things I loved to do, but I knew how much he enjoyed watching and that alone made me happy to do it.
I made my way over to him and knelt up between his legs. He leaned back into the couch, giving me room to move. I palmed him several times through the material of his pants, enjoying the way he grew harder.