Rich Promise (5 page)

I obey. His eyes are warm, his expression tender. He draws the backs of his fingers along my cheek.

“I love you, Summer.” He murmurs the words, his voice incredibly gentle, and sexy as hell.

“I love you too, Dan.”

He quirks one eyebrow and I correct myself, “Sir. I love you,
Sir
.”

He smiles, his expression perhaps ever so faintly amused. “Right, I’m glad that’s settled. Can I finish fucking you now?”

“Yes please, Sir.”

A half dozen or so swift, long strokes later, I orgasm again. Dan’s cock twitches and lurches inside me as he sinks deep inside me one last time, holding the position as his semen spurts out. Sated, I relax my death grip on the buffet, withdrawing my busy fingers from my pussy. Dan straightens and pulls out of me, disposing of the condom quickly. He pulls his clothing back into place and sinks onto the sofa.

I push myself up from the buffet and turn to look at him, unsure what comes now. He beckons me to him with one imperious finger. He turns, lifts his legs onto the sofa and reaches for me. He pulls me down to lie alongside him, my naked body against his fully clothed one.

“So, little sub, declarations of love in the throes of orgasm. You could have just said thank you.”

“Is it okay? I mean, I wouldn’t want you to think I was…”

“What? Being a bit pushy? I hardly think we could accuse you of that. Or are you having second thoughts?”

“No, no never. I do love you. I have from the beginning, more or less. Definitely since Leeds.”

“Well, I trump you then. I knew there was something—compelling—about you when Nick dumped you in my arms on the landing at Black Combe. It’s been downhill from there, as far as I’m concerned.”

I crane my neck to peer up at him. “Really? You don’t mind then?”

“Yes, really. And no, I don’t mind. In fact, life gets interesting from here, I think.”

“I think so too.”
And he doesn’t know the half of it.
I tuck my chin back in and snuggle closer as Dan’s arm tightens around me.

His palm is between my shoulder blades, massaging my back. My stomach grumbles loudly, the sound echoing around the room. I cringe and start to apologize.

“My fault. I probably should gave fed you before sinking my dick into your arse. You’re very tempting though. And it had been over twenty-four hours. Even so, I can see we can’t put this off for much longer. Pasta okay?”

“Yes, lovely. Anything really.”

“Right. Shower if you want to, then get dressed. We’re going out.”

Chapter Three

Dan lives maybe twenty minutes’ walk from Keswick town center, and we have our pick of cozy little bistros. We head for one Dan tells me is his favorite, and certainly the waitress there seems to know him well. As soon as we sit down at a little corner table, she rushes over offering him ‘his usual’, which he declines with a friendly smile, requesting the menu instead. I don’t dare ask.

I do, however, attempt to satisfy my curiosity on another matter, that of how well Dan knows Freya.

“Forgive me, Sir, if I’m prying, but you seem to know Freya very well. Or am I reading more into it?”

He regards me, one sardonic eyebrow raised as I hold his gaze. He can tell me to mind my own business, even spank me later for my temerity if he wants to. I’ll survive that, probably even enjoy it.

“Reading more into what, Summer?”

“That morning, at Black Combe, before the wedding, when she came into your room with my bag. She hugged you, and you seemed…close.”

“Ah, so now we’re a love thing, you and I, you get to ask about all my previous relationships, is that it? We’ll need to order extra salad.” He’s smiling, but his expression is tight. There’s no humor there.

“I didn’t mean that.”
Or did I? And did he really say ‘relationships’?

“No? Should I be asking you who you screwed before?”

Christ, no!

“From your expression, I’m guessing that’s a touchy subject. Why’s that, I wonder? I know you weren’t a virgin—well, not entirely.”

God, how did I blunder into this?
“I…I wasn’t. And I didn’t mean that you and Freya…well, that you… I just thought she seemed to like you. A lot.”

“And I like her.”

“I see.”

“I’m not at all sure you do, Summer. But if you want to know more, you’ll have to ask Freya.”

“So, there
is
more?”

“Ask Freya.”

The conversation is interrupted by the return of the waitress to take our orders. Neither of us has looked at the menu but rather than send her away again, we make a quick selection from their specials list. She smiles her approval and rushes off, leaving us to an awkward silence.

I can’t bear it. I have to speak. “I didn’t mean to pry. I apologize.”

Dan reaches for my hand across the table. He squeezes my fingers between his. “There’s no need to apologize. You weren’t prying, you were asking and your question was fair enough. I don’t mean to be evasive, but I do prefer you to talk to Freya about this.”

We are once more interrupted by the waitress scurrying back in our direction. This time she’s carrying one of those huge trays, laden with a steaming, bubbling cannelloni for me, and a ham and mushroom tagliatelle dish for Dan. She does the usual fussing with parmesan and the pepper grinder before wishing us a rather contrived “
buon appetito
”, which does not sit well with her Geordie accent.

We both nod and poke at the piping hot food with our forks. It smells delicious, but I’m too nervous now to really enjoy my meal, despite being ravenous. I never should have opened this can of worms.
What was I thinking of?

Dan takes a couple of tentative nibbles at his pasta before returning to the matter in hand

“Freya’s your friend, and I’m not about to discuss her with you, except to tell you that I’ve never scened with her, if that’s what you were wondering. As for anything else, if she wants to talk to you about it, I have no objections. Please tell her that, if you raise this with her. But I have scened with a lot of other submissives before you, and a couple after you. Since we first met at the club, that is, and before running into you again at Nathan’s. But from now, as long as we’re together, it’s only you. I promised you that already, and I did mean it.”

I heave a sigh of relief that he seems disinclined to go for the jugular. He could have made this so much harder for me. Still could.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’m never going to take issue with you for asking me something. It’s my choice if I answer or not. Just as it’s up to you whether or not you tell me about previous partners. I won’t ask you about them, though. It’s what happens going forward that concerns me, not how we both got here.”

He pauses, and I forget to breathe. This is my opportunity, my chance to explain, to share. He’s just told me he’s had a lot of sexual partners before me. He won’t judge.

Won’t he?
I would. Anyone would. I can’t risk that. So, that part stays buried. But there is one thing I want to share.

“Me too.” I blurt out the words quickly, before I have time to think better of it.

Dan arches on eyebrow. I have his complete attention. “You too what?”

“I had another relationship. After the club. In Bristol.”

“I see.” Dan makes no further comment, asks no questions. He waits though, that eyebrow quirking in expectation.

“I was working in a school and he was a teacher.” I glance at Dan, still no reaction. “Year five,” I add, irrelevantly.

“Ah.” As if that explains everything. Dan offers no clues regarding his response.

I press on. “He wanted me to move in with him, but I didn’t. I wasn’t ready…” My voice trails off, I’m unsure how much detail to offer.

“I’m assuming it didn’t work out with Mister Year Five?” Dan’s tone is gentle, encouraging me to continue.

I shake my head. “No. It didn’t work out. He didn’t like my swallows. He thought I should get them removed.”

“He sounds to have questionable taste. A dickhead, in fact. I’m glad you didn’t listen. Vanilla?”

“Yes. I-I thought that was what I wanted. After the club, I sort of panicked, I suppose. I was wrong though. I…he…I mean… I used to fake orgasms.”

Now the eyebrow shoots up again. Dan looks amused rather than curious, though.

“And he never knew?”

“No, I don’t think he noticed. I used to sigh and squeeze. And pant a bit. Well, a lot of panting actually.”

Now Dan laughs out loud. “Christ, girl, I’d like to have seen that. I want you to demonstrate when we get back. Then I’ll tell you how the real thing looks. And feels. And sounds.”

“Thank you for the extra lessons, Sir. But I don’t think I’ll need to pretend anymore.”

He leans in close, his expression serious now. “No you fucking won’t. And if I ever have reason to believe you’ve even considered faking your response to me, I’ll whip you until you faint. Or safe word. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir. Perfectly clear.”

“So, how did it end with your vanilla dickhead then?”

“We argued. But I’d decided to leave anyway. I was going back to Cumbria, but I got Ashley’s message and detoured to go to her wedding. And ran into you again.”

“Ah, yes. Lucky for me. So, what did you argue about?”

“I called him Sir.”

“Sir? But I thought you said…”

“I did. It was a mistake, I sort of forgot…”

“Forgot?” Dan’s voice is low. He reaches across the table to take my chin in his hand, tipping my face up to meet his gaze. “You forgot? Or was it that you remembered?”

“Yes.” My voice is a whisper now, the reality of that final exchange with James only now properly sinking in. “Yes, I remembered. I was thinking about you, about us, about what happened when we…” I hesitate, but Dan does not interrupt. “I wished it was you. Still. I was scared to death but I still wished it was you.”

“It is me now, sweetheart. And you’re not scared anymore. Are you?”

“No, Sir. I love you.”

“And I love you. So, do you have any more confessions to offer right now?”

I shake my head. Dan continues, “Okay, enough soul-searching for now. The pasta’s getting cold. I’ll insist on honesty from here on, the truth between us, always. And you can rely on the same from me. That’s my promise to you. Do I have yours?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir, of course. I promise.”
From now on. And the past stays where it is.

“Thank you, Summer. And you now know the consequences if you break your word, so we don’t need to dwell on it. So, eat your pasta and smile for me. I want you to have a nice time this weekend.”

With Dan’s words, the moment for more disclosures has passed. It’s too late now.

I gaze at him, at his stern masculine beauty, his dark good looks. I know every other female in this restaurant would like to be where I am now, and I’m unable to believe my luck that anyone like this man could possibly have the remotest interest in me—could love me even. I can’t rock the boat now. I simply won’t. His sexy wink melts my pussy and curls my toes. I wish we were back at his house, not here in a restaurant. One word from him, and I’d strip and kneel right here.

It doesn’t come to that, though, and by ten thirty we’re strolling back toward Dan’s house. He drapes his leather aviator jacket across my shoulders when I shiver, which is kind of him as it gets pretty chilly in the north lakes in November. I pick up the pace, insisting that it’s because I’m concerned that he might be cold rather than my own eagerness to get back indoors—behind a locked door and closed curtains. Just us.

“Coffee? Tea? Or just bed?”

“Just bed, Sir.”

“Good choice. I’ll be up in a minute.” He kisses me quickly, then turns me at the bottom of the stairs and pats my bum. “You have two minutes to get naked.”

“And if I’m late?”

“Don’t be late, Summer.” He sounds serious now, and stern. The Dom is back.

I nod quickly and head up the stairs fast.

Dan is very prompt. Exactly two minutes later he follows me into the bedroom to find me naked on his bed. He didn’t instruct me to kneel, so I’ve opted to lie face down to wait for him. He can admire my still slightly pink buttocks and my swallows.

He seems suitably appreciative, sitting alongside me and trailing his fingers along my shoulders. He follows the line of my spine, circling each vertebra. He traces my tattoos, leaning across me to kiss them. He caresses my bottom, the soft curves quivering under his palms.

“Still sore?”

“No, Sir, not really. Are you going to spank me again?”

“No, not tonight. Tonight, I just want to fuck you.”

“Vanilla style?”

“Well it might be fun to watch your attempts at panting and sighing, but no. I don’t think that’s our style, is it? I’m going to tie you to the bed.”

“I see. Is that all?”

“Be careful what you wish for, little sub. I could easily convince you of the merits of a bit of gentle fucking and there’d be no need for Oscar-winning performances from you. It’s not such a bad offer.” He rolls off the bed and stands over me, his expression unreadable.

Is he angry?
I know he’ll never harm me, but Dan angry scares me, especially at moments like this.

I watch him as he undresses. The tie goes first, and he tosses that onto the bed beside me. I guess that’s what he’ll use to tie me up then. The shirt is next, followed by his socks, then his jeans and boxers are peeled off together. Even angry, or maybe especially when he’s angry, Dan is a magnificent sight, all angles and solid muscles which ripple and flex as he moves around the room. He turns off the main light, perhaps preferring the illumination provided by a pair of lamps on each side of the bed, and uses the en suite. I listen to the sound of running water as he washes his hands, my tension mounting with every second he makes me wait.
Was I too bratty? Too demanding?
Sometimes Dan seems so laid back, so easy-going, at others he’s stern and forbidding, like just now. And so volatile, he can change in a moment. I never know which Dan I’m to deal with.

I turn, propping myself on one elbow to watch him stroll back across the room, his cock already hard and solid. He kneels over me, reaching for the tie.