Obsession (19 page)

She lasted two hours. When he came in
for the last time, she was sobbing helplessly with frustration and exhaustion.

“Kitten, you know what you have to do to make this end.” He said gently, cupping her chin with his hand
, soothingly stroking her throat. “You just have to tell me.”

“I can’t.” Her
voice was hoarse and he reached for a carton of juice he’d left on the side.

“Here.” He held the straw to her lips and she gratefully sipped the cold liquid, shivering as it soothed her raw throat all the way down. “You know you want it kitten. You just have to say the word and you can come as many times as you want.”

“I...” She hiccupped another sob. “Please don’t make me, Master.”

“You must be punished.” He crouched down so he was at her level. “Just tell me and it will be over soon.” She heaved for breath, tears falling as she closed her eyes. “No? Then we’ll go again.” Rising, he began to move and she made a strangled noise.

“Stop!” He paused and she bowed her head, broken. “I want it.” She said quietly. “Please Master.”

“You know the words.” His voice was calm, showing none of the glee he felt.

“Please Master...I want you to...I want...” She choked and took another deep breath. “I want you to fuck me up the arse.” She was shaking all over, her head down, but he still waited.

“And the rest kitten.” He soothingly massaged her neck.

“What was the rest?” She sounded so small and lost.

“You have to tell me that you want it hard.”

She flinched. “Please Master, I...I want it hard.”

“Good girl.”
He undid his jeans and pushed them from his hips, coming to stand before her as he kicked them from his feet. “You know the deal though. Open your mouth.” She did as she was told and he pushed his cock into her, shuddering with pleasure as her hot, wet mouth closed around him. Gently cupping her neck, he moved back and forth as she sucked. Christ she felt good. He couldn’t wait to get behind her. Forgetting himself for a moment, he pushed too hard, hitting the back of her throat, and she convulsed. “That’s enough.” Withdrawing, he released her neck and patted her head. “Good girl, kitten.” She let her head hang again as he walked around the bar and reached for the lube. He was hard and aching, and flinched as the cold gel hit his dick. She’d done better than he thought she would, held out far longer than he’d guessed. It had been driving him almost as crazy as her, but he had a lifetime of discipline to draw on.

Pulling the plug out, he tossed it behind him and wasted no time feeding his cock slowly into her arse. She writhed in the ropes, making soft noises as he pushed all the way in. “Good girl.” He breathed, fighting to control himself. Holding his hips still, he reached beneath her and played with her clit. “Come now. Let it out.”
This time when she got to the edge, he sent her crashing over it and she came so hard, he thought for a moment she’d passed out. When she gasped after a few seconds and tried to get her legs back beneath her, he smiled and began to move. She was in such a state of hypersensitivity after all the teasing, that he knew another orgasm wouldn’t be far behind.

He moved slowly at first, letting her body accommodate him, but when he was sliding easily in and out
, he picked up the pace and the intensity, fucking her just as hard as he’d promised he would. He lost himself in the slap of skin on skin, the hot, slippery tightness of her that was such exquisite agony.

“Come with me kitten.” He cried gutturally as his balls began to tighten. Sliding a hand beneath her belly
, he played her clit like a maestro and she came moments before he did, milking every drop of his cum as she convulsed around him.

She was sobbing again from being overwhelmed as he withdrew and reached for the ropes. He’d pushed her far enough. It was time to clean up and sleep. With a gentle arm around her waist
, he released the rope and caught her slight bodyweight, helping her upright as she swayed on her feet.

“Hang in there.”
He said gently. “We’re almost done.” He got the ropes off as fast as he could and massaged her arms as he unfolded them. “Just five more minutes and we’ll get you in the shower.” He pulled her mask off and tossed that to the floor too, letting her hold onto his shoulders as he removed her boots. Then it was her hair. He retrieved and tossed every pin, until it was curling gently around her shoulders in a beautiful tousled mass.

When she was finally free of everything, he scooped her up into his arms and headed for the bathroom. She was covered in sweat and tears and his cum
, and she was exhausted. He couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to capitulate. He’d known she was the one. Feeling fiercely protective, he warmed the shower and grabbed the shower gel. Knowing she couldn’t stay upright much longer, he carefully lowered them both to the floor and washed her that way, turning her gently in his arms as he lovingly soaped and rinsed.

It was past 5am
, but he still took the time to wash her hair. The drive to protect and care for her was too strong to resist. If he’d thought she’d stay awake long enough, he’d have run to the kitchen to make her something to eat. As it was, he made sure she was clean from top to toe, carefully dried her and then took them both to bed.

He woke her at midday
, with coffee, two aspirin and a light lunch. She stretched, aching and tired, as he waited patiently with the tray.

“How are you feeling?” He asked cautiously and she smiled at him.

“Like I’ve done ten rounds with a double decker bus and lost.”

“I’m sorry.” He seemed so crestfallen that she burst out laughing.

“It’s okay. I hated you last night, but I don’t hate you now. I just feel like I’ve had a really intense workout.” She patted the pillows beside her. “Come sit down. That can’t all be for me.” Gabriel surveyed the tray, with its salads, sandwiches and soup, and grinned sheepishly. It had all been for her, but it did seem a bit excessive. Checking she was comfortable, he set the tray in her lap and moved to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” She asked. “I bet some of that was just as little fun for you as it was for me.”

“I’m not sure my balls will ever forgive me.” He said drily and she choked on her coffee, laughing until she cried and he had to rescue the tray.

“I’ll try not to misbehave again.” They both knew she would misbehave, but it seemed the only appropriate thing to say. She settled and took the tray back. “What time is it?”

“
Just after midday.” He plucked a sandwich from the plate and ate most of it with one ravenous bite.

“What time is the car coming?” She looked up from the soup. “I haven’t packed anything.” Not that she needed to pack much. He’d insisted on buying her new things for when she stayed here.

“I haven’t booked it yet.” He admitted. “I was hoping you’d change your mind and stay.”

She was sorely tempted
, but last night had been another example of why she needed some space to get her head together. He had a habit of making her forget herself. “It’s only for a couple of days, Gabriel.” She pressed her forehead briefly to his shoulder, comfortingly. “I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me.”

“Are you kidding?” He stared at her. “I feel like I’ve cut my arm off the minute you walk out of the same room. Not having you in the
same house is going to kill me.”

“You’ll have to get used to it.” She said firmly. “What are you going to do when I go back to work? School holidays are over next week
, so I’ll have to start staying at home.”

“Give up your job. Move in with me.” He said instantly.

“I’m not moving in with you, Gabriel.” She shook her head. “It’s too soon. Way too soon. I can’t give up my job.”

“Why not?”
He snagged another sandwich. “I can give you an amazing life. You’ll never have to work again.”

“And what happens if we break up?” She asked. “This is still early days. It’s all too new, too intense. What happens if I can’t deal with the play room
any more? Would you change if I asked you to?”

“I don’t think I could.” He whispered, stricken.

“Precisely.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m not saying us breaking up is going to happen, but I don’t want to even think about moving in until I’m feeling a bit more stable in whatever this is. Part of that includes going home.”

He took a deep breath
, as though he was in pain, and then sighed. “I’ll drive you. It’s New Years Day. There’s no need to call a driver.”

“Thank you.” Smiling, she finished her lunch and went in search of clothes.

***

Her house seemed so small after all that space at Gabriel’s, but she moved around it feeling comforted. “You want to stay for coffee?” She asked. “I think I’ve got some milk in the freezer.”

Unwilling to leave her, he sat on the sofa. “Yes please.”

“Okay.” She left the milk defrosting in the sink and went to turn the boiler up. The house was chilled from several days of emptiness and she prayed none of the pipes had frozen. She’d left the thermostat at six
degrees to stop it, but that wasn’t a guarantee.

“Do you want me to light the fire?” Gabriel called up the stairs and she smiled.

“Yes please!” She called back, realising it would heat up the living room almost immediately. Stepping into her room to drop her bag, she breathed in the familiar fragrance of the fabric softener on her sheets and felt like crying. For the first time in more than a week, she felt grounded. It was such a relief, which was crazy because she loved spending time with Gabriel. It was his lifestyle. It was too easy to forget how little she had while she was caught up in the opulence of his world.

She unpacked quickly and then went down to make the coffee. He was sprawled loosely across the sofa watching the flames when she reappeared. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here?” He asked suspiciously, accepting a mug. “It seems cold.”

“I’ve turned the heating up. It won’t take long to warm the house up.”

“Well call me if you need me to come and get you. There might be disturbances this close to town
, with all the New Year football and so on.”

“Gabriel, stop worrying. I’ve lived here for six years and I’ve never had a problem.” She knew he just didn’t want her to stay
, but he was being silly. “You’ll have to give me your address so I can organise a taxi back in a couple of days.” She reached for a pad of paper on the coffee table, but he shook his head.

“I’ll come and get you. You’re not taking a taxi.”

“Why not?” She blinked. “Seems silly for you to drive all the way down here, just to drive back.”

“You’re not taking a taxi.” He said stubbornly and she sighed, putting the pad back down without even bothering to look for a pen.

“Fine. You can come and get me.”

“I’ll be here at eight, the day after tomorrow.” If he was satisfied at his victory, he didn’t show it.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “That had better be eight in the evening and not eight in the morning.”

“Eight in the morning.”
He repeated stubbornly and she set down her mug.

“No. Gabriel, I told you I needed a few days. Not one day and a few hours. You’ve had me most of the day today, despite my intention to be here by lunch time. I need space.”

“Midday.” His jaw flexed as though he was grinding his teeth.

“Eight o’clock.” She wasn’t going to back down from this one. “We can go for dinner then. That would be nice.”

“Eight is too late for dinner.” He insisted. “Make it six, at least.”

“Fine.
Six o’clock, the day after tomorrow.” She’d gained an extra few hours of alone time. It was a small victory.

“I’ll book a table. Do you have a dress? Do you want me to take you shopping tomorrow?”

She burst out laughing at his hopeful expression. “Time apart is what I asked for, Gabriel. That doesn’t mean spending all day together shopping. I’ll find something.”

“Are you really not going to see me at all for two days?” He sounded disbelieving and she was torn between laughing and getting irritated.

“Yes Gabriel, I’m not going to see you for two whole days. You’ll live.”

He backed down and then changed tack. “You won’t have any food in the house. Do you want me to take you to dinner tonight?”

“I have lasagne in the freezer.” She smiled, exasperated. “Don’t you have stuff to do? What do you do when I’m not there? Don’t you read or watch movies?”

“It’s all work.” He shrugged. “I spend time in the studio, composing and recording. I catch up on my emails
. Do my banking.”

“Don’t you enjoy writing music?” She asked curiously and he shrugged.

“I do, but sometimes it’s a hard process.” He curled his hands around the mug, as though chilled. “To make really powerful music, it has to come from somewhere deep inside. Sometimes exploring it can be painful.”

“When did you write Drown No More?” She asked and he shifted uncomfortably.