The_Submissive - Tara Sue Me (18 page)

There was a slight lull in the conversation as our appetizers were delivered. I placed my napkin in my lap, noticing for the first time just how close I was sitting to Nathaniel. I could feel his body heat if I tried hard enough.

I’d just taken a sip of soup when his hand started drawing circles on my knee.

Control.

Heaven help me.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

“Abby,” Linda said across the table, totally clueless her nephew was making love to my kneecap. “I keep meaning to call you for lunch. This coming week isn’t good. How would the next Wednesday work for you?”

The hand on my knee continued stroking.

“Wednesdays aren’t good for me,” I said. “There’s a patron who comes in every Wednesday to see the Rare Books Collection—and we don’t let researchers in unaccompanied, so I have to be there with him.”

Nathaniel chuckled under his breath.

“That must be a bit tiresome,” Linda said. “But I suppose that’s what customer service is all about.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “It’s refreshing to find someone so thorough.”

The hand stroked down my knee, brushed the underside.

“How would that Tuesday work?” she asked. “He doesn’t come on Tuesdays, does he?”

Not yet.

“Tuesday will be fine,” I said.

“It’s a date then,” she said, smiling at me.

Conversation flowed freely. At some point, Nathaniel and Todd started a debate over politics. Elaina looked at me and rolled her eyes. Perfectly normal dinner conversation. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Above the table, that is.

I’ll give him this much, Nathaniel was a sneaky thing. He’d play with my knee for a few minutes and then pass the bread to Felicia or cut his salad, something requiring two hands. Later, without warning, his hand would be back. Stroking, squeezing, gently working higher. Retreating.

I was a complete mess of nerves.

I took a sip of bisque. Nathaniel had been right. It was incredible. Creamy. Rich. Just the right amount of chunky lobster. I crossed my legs out of habit. When Nathaniel’s hand came back, he pushed my left leg off my right and continued stroking. Going higher this time.

Lobsters
, I told myself.
Think about lobsters.

Lobsters. Lobsters were sea creatures. They had huge pincers and had to have their claws rubber-banded. They turned a red color when you boiled them.

Does the thought of me turning your backside red excite you?

I choked on a mouthful of bisque.

Fortunately, Nathaniel’s hands were both in plain view, above the table, at the time. He pounded me on the back. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Sorry.”

The waiter came to take our bowls and plates away. Everyone at the table was chatting or laughing, caught up in conversation.

Nathaniel poured me more wine and started caressing my thigh over the dress. “What do you read besides poetry?”

He wanted to discuss my reading habits? “Just about anything,” I said, curious as to where this was going. “Classics are my favorite.”

“A classic,” he said, “is a book which people praise and don’t read. Mark Twain.”

I knew then I was in real trouble. To tease me with provocative caresses was one thing, to engage me in verbal sparring was quite another. Especially where literature was concerned. My body he had already mastered, was my mind next on his agenda? But I thought back to the library and knew I could give as well as he did.

“I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman’s feelings,” I said. “Jane Austen.”

He smirked. “But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her.” His hand went up my skirt. “Jane Austen.”

“Truth is more of a stranger than fiction,” I said. “Mark Twain.”

He laughed and moved his hand. “I give up,” he
said. “You win.” His eyes grew serious. “But only this round.”

I wondered how many rounds there might be.

Our entrees were delivered and once more Nathaniel didn’t disappoint—the filet was so tender, I could cut it with a fork.

“Hey, you two,” Elaina said to Felicia and me. “Linda and I are hitting the spa tomorrow for massages and facials and to get our nails done. We made you both appointments as well. Our treat. Will you come?”

Felicia looked over to Jackson. He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I’ll be busy tomorrow anyway. You go and have a good time.”

“How very thoughtful,” Nathaniel said, caressing my knee once more. “I suppose Todd and I can amuse ourselves with golf. Would you like to go with the girls, Abigail?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’d love to.”

Elaina beamed at me.

A spa day sounded delightful. But what about my collar? Wouldn’t it be odd to wear it to a spa? Nathaniel’s hand inched further up my skirt and rational thought was beyond me for several long minutes.

It wasn’t as easy for Nathaniel to keep up his under-the-table moves while we ate, but I was tense all the same. On the edge of my seat waiting for what he’d do next.

Which was probably exactly where he wanted me.

When the entrees were cleared away, we all sat back and waited for dessert. Two young teenagers came by our table for pictures and autographs from Jackson. He chatted with them for a bit, told them he’d see them Sunday. Like I said, totally normal dinner.

Right. Who was I kidding? There was nothing normal about dinner.

Nathaniel refilled my wineglass and I tried to remember how much I’d had to drink. Three glasses? Four? Surely not four.

His hand came back, but instead of reaching for my leg, he took my hand and, ever so subtly, placed it on his crotch. He was erect and straining against his pants. He thrust up into my palm. Barely moving. No one at the table suspected anything.

I could control myself, but feeling the evidence of his need just about did me in. I chewed my lip. How long until dinner was over? I glanced at my watch. Eight-thirty. Still early. It wouldn’t take much for me to beg for his cock tonight. I was almost there as it was.

Soufflés were delivered to the table. Nathaniel’s hand went straight up my skirt, brushed right where I was wet and aching and then reappeared above the table. I bit the inside of my cheek.

Control.

I wasn’t tipsy, I told myself, I was just really relaxed. And happy. Couldn’t forget happy. And warm. Warm and tingly inside. Weightless.

Nathaniel continued his teasing in the car. It was easy. We were alone and there was no one to see. He flipped my skirt up with one hand.

“You’re going to mess up the interior of the rental,” he scolded, dipping a finger inside. “Wet as you are.”

I wanted to tell him to spank me. But we weren’t in the kitchen or my library. We were in a rental car, headed back to the hotel. Where there was a bed.

Nathaniel and a bed…

I’d even beg.

Now.

Please.

We made it back to the hotel and got into the elevator for the long ride up to our suite. Nathaniel squeezed my backside and I groaned.

“Not yet,” he said.

Someone had been busy while we were out. The lights were muted and Nathaniel’s bed had been turned down. He led me to the bed and fumbled with a duffle bag on the floor. He placed a tube of lube and a vibrator on the bed.

“I’ve been patient, Abigail,” he said. “And I’ll be as gentle as I can, but tonight’s the night. You’re ready.”

Pure adrenaline shot right through me. I surely never thought I’d be looking forward to this.

You’ll be begging for my cock.

I had no reason to think he was wrong.

“Undress me,” he said.

Trembling, I slid the jacket from his shoulders, feeling his firm muscles, powerful and hard under his shirt. I had to see them. I unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it from his pants. Unbuckled his belt. Pushed his pants and boxers down his hips and feasted on the sight of his erection.

“All for you,” he said. “Because you did so well at dinner tonight, I’ll let you have a little taste.”

I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth. We both moaned. He wrapped my hair around his hands and thrust in and out of my mouth.

Mmmm. His taste.

Much too soon, he pulled back and helped me to my feet. I was a little unsteady.

“Undress for me,” he said. “Slowly.”

I stepped out of my shoes, reached behind my back and undid the zipper. Pushed the dress slowly down my arms. His eyes were hungry, like he wanted to devour me. The dress fell to a puddle at the floor. I undid my bra and added it to the pile.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I brought my hands to my breasts and rubbed them, circling them slowly, dragging my fingers across my nipples. Pinched them. Rolled them between my
fingertips. Squeezed harder because it hurt so good. I ran one hand down my side, across my hips, circled my bellybutton and stroked lower. Rocked into my palm.

“Enough,” he said. “Come here.”

I walked to the bed, feeling the wetness drip onto my thighs. He grabbed me by the waist and flipped me so I was under him. His hands and teeth explored everywhere. Biting and scraping me. Pinching and taunting. I was overwhelmed by pure sensation.

I moaned with my need for him, glad he wasn’t telling me to be quiet, because I knew I couldn’t.

His hands grew less frantic and his nibbles softer. I strained against him, wanting him back. Needing him back. Something. Please.

He turned me so I was on my side, my back to his chest, and took the tube of lubricant at my elbow. When he touched me again, his fingers were warm and slick.

How did he get it warm?

Like the previous weekend, one finger circled my clit while the other one slipped in the lower hole. He took his time, moving slowly, stretching me, eventually adding a second finger.

Why did it feel so good?

The finger at my clit rubbed softly and I thrust against it, wanting it harder. Rougher. His other hand lifted my leg and he slipped in behind me—his warm, slick cock pressing against my opening.

He moved forward, pressing the head into me. I gasped as I stretched. Surely he wouldn’t fit. There was no way. But he held still, working my clit again. Relaxing me. Moved forward a little, stretching me. It hurt, but I trusted Nathaniel. I knew he wanted my pleasure as well.

He slowly worked his way inside, pushing against the natural resistance and then held totally still after he popped the head of his cock in. Allowing me time to adjust. He stopped circling my clit and took my hand. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Ow, ow, ow.

I waited until I could be honest. “Yes.”

He squeezed my hand and kissed the back of my neck. “You’re doing great.”

And just that simply, I was his.

I heard something turn on.
The vibrator.
One hand held me close to him and with the other he ran the vibrator gently down my body until it came to rest at my wet entrance. He slowly pushed it in while working his cock deeper.

I was stretching in ways I never knew possible. Being filled two ways. I didn’t know I could feel so full. But he was still moving, still pushing forward. Inch by inch. All the way.

Oww.

“Still okay?” he asked, and his voice was strained.

“Yes,” I answered, my voice matching his.

Again he was still. Making sure I was fine, giving me the time I needed to adjust.

Slowly, I focused on the buzzing inside me that felt so good. He started to move, both his cock and the vibrator, working them opposite each other. I held still, awash once again in sensation. Allowing it to sweep over me.

I sucked in my breath through my teeth. The pain mixed with the pleasure. It was too much, too much. I gasped as he moved a little faster. The buzzing overtook me, vibrated throughout my whole body.

I wasn’t going to last long. Nathaniel’s breathing grew heavy, uneven, and my belly tightened. Something was building, building deep inside and threatening to shatter me.

I whimpered as the feeling grew. I’d never felt anything so intense. So utterly and completely intense. I couldn’t bear it. In and out he moved. His cock. The vibrator. He kept on and kept on and the vibrator was hitting a new place now.