Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (29 page)

Sub, my ass!

There was nothing to do but tell her the truth. “I think I’m falling in love with him, but it scares me. Last night scared me. I don’t think I could handle—no, I
know
I can’t handle getting destroyed the way A did last night. And I don’t want Xander to settle. I don’t want to feel like he’s always left wanting.”

“When I saw the two of you dancing, he looked relaxed and fulfilled and you looked happy and content. Nothing wrong with that. He doesn’t have to get everything from one person, does he? Maybe he trains subs or is just a disciplinarian, but he’s your Dom? Could you live with that? It wouldn’t be the first time a couple had a relationship like that.” She raised a questioning eyebrow.

My gut twisted at the thought. “My knee-jerk reaction is that I don’t want to share him.”

“Is that your reaction or is that what you think it should be?”

I opened my mouth to respond that it was all me, but before I spoke I caught myself. “Last night was actually a really great night. Don’t get me wrong—I wouldn’t want to do that every night. There were a few things I didn’t love but I have weirdly mixed feelings about it.”

“How so?”

“Well, in general, I didn’t mind. I really had no problem with him inflicting pain, but at one point he pinched her nipples and at another point he kind of ground his dick into her face. I kind of got jealous. Then, the other side was that, at one specific point, I could hear what he was saying to her, and it scared the shit out of me. But here’s the fucked up thing, June, I was
so
turned on watching him. It was like he was just so powerful and, and, and…magnificent.”

“Awe. That’s the feeling. You were in awe, and then you wanted him between your legs.” She said it so matter-of-factly that it felt like an accusation.

I laughed self-consciously. “Well, yes. There were layers, though.”

“Tell me—I’m kind of enjoying being the sub-whisperer.” She smiled and sipped her coffee.

“I feel like this a lot with him—like I’m flattened, like he is so….so….
him
that I almost can’t handle it. I guess its awe, but then there’s darkness to it. Like I want him to take me and not like some old school romance novel. Just
take
from me, take me to whatever level he wants to. I want him to smother my existence within him.” I knew I wasn’t making sense, but she was nodding along with me, eye glittering, like it made perfect sense to her.

“Like you want to get lost in him?”

I nodded my agreement.

“You’re his, in your heart. You’re his sub. He’s your Dom. You guys just have to work out the details.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

Xander

Nine Inch Nails
Ringfinger (Twisted Remix)

I had been studying for about two hours when June called.

“Hey, June. How’d it go?”

“Perfect. She’s lovely, Xander. She’s smart and funny, but she has an independent streak in her too. She’s not going to just roll over and take everything you give her.”

“Good. I’ve had doormats. I don’t love it.”

“Do you love
her
?” Her tone was exacting.

“You don’t waste time.” I laughed, delaying an answer. She just waited in silence. “I think so. June, it’s just crazy. It’s like someone built her for me specifically. She responds like I’ve always wanted a girl to respond to me.”

“So, I think she’s yours in her heart, but she hasn’t accepted it yet. I don’t know if she will. Her brain may veto her heart. There are some objections that she hasn’t worked through. I hear how happy you are, but you still need to guard your heart.”

Her tone was sad, but I knew she was probably right. There was so much of me that Leda had yet to see.

“I know you’re right. I don’t want you to be.” I paused, that crushing feeling back in my chest. “How did you and Michael know?”

“There was a moment for me. He had me bound and blindfolded at a club. He was letting newbies take turns with a flogger, so he could refine their technique. And I was terrified at the public display, being offered up like that, but he talked me through it, right at my ear. And I knew I’d always be safe with him. It was a weird place to have it all click, I guess. There was a moment when the fear just went away. But it was more than that. I don’t know if there was one moment for Michael. You could call him. He’d love to hear from you, I’m sure.”

“Let’s get together for dinner over the holidays. I’ll be in DC for about a week and a half.”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come to our house? We won’t have to keep our voices down while we talk about kinky shit.” She half-laughed.

“That’s sounds perfect. Let me know when, and I’ll be there.”

After I hung up with June, I turned back to my books, knowing that Leda needed to study and probably just unwind from last night and me and just all of it. I studied for a few hours before I had to move. I considered the gym, but wasn’t ready to deal with whatever had been bugging Jason the night before. I ended up going for a run, just ran till I was sweaty, then turned around and ran home. I made a snack and showered, considered calling Leda, decided against it, and eventually opened my books back up. An hour or so later, when I was just thinking of dinner plans, she texted me.

Hey Boss man—wanna come over?—L

Little girl, how has your day been? And yes. I’ll be there in an hour?—X

Good day! June is…smart. ☺ How do you feel about me making you dinner?—L

How do I feel about her making me dinner? Fucking great. Just about perfect.
The only thing closer to perfect would be her making me dinner, in my—our—apartment, naked.

That sounds good, little girl. 1 hour. X

Despite my general feeling that she wouldn’t be inviting me over if she hated what happened last night, I was still anxious. It was her seeing me, passing judgment on a more naked part of me. But I wouldn’t let fear control me, change me.

I threw on some jeans and a T-shirt with my leather jacket over it. On the way to her house, I listened to some old school music to get myself steeled up. I couldn’t stop myself, I advanced the tracks to the remix of Ringfinger. Nine Inch Nails. The rest of the drive was spent smiling at the disjointed memories I associated with NIN.

I was on her street sooner that I wanted to be. I was thinking of the feel of her skin under my hands last night, the stickiness on her thighs, her voice as I compressed her throat.
God, I am a fucking monster. And she is inviting me in for more.
All the old dark longings opened in my chest. I wanted to be on top of her, grinding into her until she winced.

Shaking my head and trying to clear my thoughts, I turned the car off, stopping the song. At her door, I stopped, took a breath. Hit the button for her apartment. She buzzed me in without a word.
That shit isn’t safe, little one.
She opened the door to her apartment as I mounted the steps.

I waited for her to say something, but she just waited. Standing there, jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt, barefoot. Hair wild. Beautiful.
I’m so fucked.
I grabbed her around the waist and kissed her, deciding I was going to keep going until she gave me any indication that she didn’t want it, didn’t want me. She tensed at first then leaned into me, relaxed against me.

She smiled as the kiss ended, looking up at me, saying, “I made some lasagna and a salad. Hope that’s okay.” She gestured toward the couch, as she finished some things in the kitchen.

By all means, girlie. You can wait on me.
I smiled, “Perfect. How was talking with June?”

She answered me from the kitchen, “Well, first of all she is a genius and secondly, she loves you.”

What the fuck was that? Did she really think that?

“She’s married.” We were on the cusp of when most girls in my past had gone all sideways, crazy as fuck.

“No! She loves you like a brother. She helped me process some things, but she was also protective of you. She’s a good friend. I’m glad you have her in your life.”

I was pleased with that, but…process things?

This was what I was worrying about.
Confront it, Stone
. “What did you need to process?”

“A bunch of stuff.”

She thought she was cute, thought I couldn’t tell that she was trying to fuck with me a bit.
Not happening, little one.
I felt the rumble in my chest before I knew I was making a disapproving sound.

I cut it off and tried to communicate like a human. “Little girl. I want to know. I don’t need to know your whole conversation, but I do want to talk about last night. How are you and did talking with her help?”

She disappeared below the counter as she took the lasagna out of the oven. She took too long to answer, and I started to tense my muscles to go get her. But she started speaking and I relaxed back into the couch. “Xander, it helped me fast forward through processing it, but I would have gotten to the same place either way.”

And that it is?

“It was incredibly hot.”

What? No really… What?
“Hot?” My dick twitched a bit.

“Yeah, hot. You…you took my breath away. It was stunning to see you so raw, so pure. It scared me and it turned me on. I mean, you know how wet I was.” As she spoke, she put the oven mitts down and came into the living room. She knelt in front of me.
Like she is fucking trained already.
The voice screaming in my head was too loud. I sent a mental Xanax through my muscles.
Slow the fuck down, boyo.

I kissed her forehead and tipped her head back with my thumb under her chin. “You didn’t feel jealous?”

She paused a beat and looked at me, her eyes not hiding anything.. “A little. But, I don’t know. I’m the one you fucked.”

Jesus Christ—sub jackpot!

“There was something sort of amazing about it. I don’t think I could ever handle that kind of thing, though. I’m sorry, I just don’t think I want that.”

She was apologizing for not wanting to get the shit beat out of her.
I knew it was fucked up, but I thought her fucked up parts might match my fucked up parts. “You’re not a pain slut. And honestly, I don’t think I could do that to you.” My thoughts went back to standing over that slave, but seeing Leda, and the feeling that gave me. “A few times, I sort of saw you in her place, and it took me out of the moment.”

I leaned forward, kissing her hair and neck, wanting to protect her and knowing that, on some level, I wanted to protect her from me. Love was a serious mindfuck. “Leda.” I murmured her name and pulled her into my lap, straddling me so I could see her face. “I was so anxious about last night. What parts did you get jealous about?”

She was uncomfortable. Her gaze slipped away from mine as she answered, voice soft. “Grinding your dick in her face. I mean, it was a little much, right?”

If we were at a limit, I needed to know. But all I had wanted in that moment was to be grinding in
her
face. I let the dominance out a bit, and my voice had an edge when I answered. “Did you wish I was grinding my dick in
your
face, little girl?” I saw that flush in her cheeks and she dropped her gaze completely. Shame. I smiled as she nodded, small and embarrassed. I wanted her to lean into her shame, wanted her to admit that she wanted the things she wanted. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… I wanted your dick in my face.” She mumbled it, and looked up at me, probably trying to gauge how much I was judging her.
No, honey. You get good stuff when you debase yourself for me.
My cock surged.

I stood, keeping her wrapped around me. “What else did you wish I was doing to you instead of her?” I carried her into her bedroom and tossed her down on her ridiculous little fairy tale bed, planning to do some evil there. She hadn’t answered, and I started pulling off my belt, thinking of wailing on her ass with it.

She knelt in the center of the bed, watching me, pupils widening, nipples just tightening enough to be visible. “Uhh…her nipples. You were pinching her. It seemed too…intimate. And I didn’t mind the wax”—her voiced softened with embarrassment—“but I think we could try that sometime, too.”

So fucking perfect.
“Jesus, little girl. Are you just innocence incarnate?” I asked the air around me, not really expecting her to answer. I opened the fly of my jeans and pulled my cock out. “Get your mouth on my cock.”

She looked at me in want and I flexed my muscles, sort of preening, as I reached to pull my shirt over my head. She slipped to the floor and engulfed me in the warm wetness of her mouth. She knelt in front of me, working her throat around me, licking. She didn’t seem to ever mind getting drooly and messy when she sucked my cock and the sloppiness just made it hotter.

“Give me your hands.” My voice was strained, but she reached up, let me crush her little wrists in my fist. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” She had paused, waiting to see what I was doing. I pulled her arms against me, and she moved her face down my length, swallowing against any resistance in her throat. “That’s my good girl.” My voice was soft and she looked up at me, with my cock still half in her mouth.

I swallowed hard against the surge of wickedness that rushed through me at the look in her wide eyes, the shimmer of cock-drool on her chin. This wasn’t enough. I wanted her body under me, pressed down tight, I wanted to hold her down and make her take everything I gave her.

I let her work on me a little longer, but as I started to feel the pressure of my orgasm brewing in my balls, I stepped back—simultaneously pulling my cock out of her mouth and pulling her forward by her arms. She was left off balance, mouth wet and gaping. “Get naked.”

She regained her balance when I let go of her wrists and she stood, pulling her shirt over her head. Her plump tits bounced in a raw-red lace bra. Her nipples were visible, deep and rosy. She peeled out of her jeans. And was only wearing a tiny g-string, black. One of the super-low ones made for the ridiculous low cut jeans chicks wore now. The string cut into her hips a little as it dropped to the small triangle of fabric covering her.