Part 12 (2/2)
Irritation flashed across his face. ”Of course not.” A hint of her Dom shown through, as he traced the silver chain gracing the hollow of her neck. ”You're my submissive. I'm your Dom. I'm just hoping that one day...before the baby is born, you'll allow me to make an honest woman out of you.” He placed a fingertip over her lips, when she opened her mouth to protest. ”And it has nothing to do with my mother or your pregnancy. I wanted to marry you before I even knew about the baby.”
”You did?” Her words were m.u.f.fled by his finger.
He nodded and gave her a s.e.xy grin. ”I even showed my uncle the ring before I came over on Friday. I want the entire world to know your mine just not the BDSM community.”
Bethany's breath caught in her throat at the love in his gaze. ”If you're sure that's what you want...”
He squeezed her a.s.s and pulled her closer to him. ”If this weekend has proven anything, little one, it's that I don't like going to bed without you. I miss holding you all night, even when you rub that tempting a.s.s all over my d.i.c.k in your sleep.”
A giggle escaped her. ”I do not!”
”How do you know?” He arched a brow at her and thumbed one nipple. ”You're sleeping.”
Sensation lashed at her, then coursed from her nipple to her c.l.i.t, reminding her that she was sitting naked on the lap of 'her' dominant. A dominant who hadn't given her an o.r.g.a.s.m in nearly three days. She was h.o.r.n.y, d.a.m.nit!
”So about that punishment, Sir?” she reminded him.
”What about it?” He leaned in to lick at one tip of her breast, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger with just enough pressure to have her squirming against him.
”Can we get on with it?” She panted. ”I'm desperate here. You haven't touched me since Friday morning.”
A wicked grin tugged at his lips. ”Aw, does my submissive need to come?”
She flushed and nodded.
His gaze darkened. ”Then give me the words.” His free hand slid down her slightly rounded belly to delve between her thighs. ”Ask me to make my little p.u.s.s.y come.”
”Sir!” She arched against his palm as it grazed her c.l.i.t when he tested her wetness.
”The words, Bethany.” His jaw clenched. ”Or I'll keep you on edge for the rest of the morning.”
”No!” Fear mixed with relief. Fear that he'd do as he promised, and relief that it was now her Dom who held her. ”Please rub my c.l.i.t and make me come, Sir. I need it so bad!”
He growled lightly, as agile fingers circled the swollen nub. His strokes came fast and light, but not hard enough to bring her off. ”Whose c.l.i.t is this?”
”Yours,” she sobbed, her fingers tightening on the front of his s.h.i.+rt.
He rubbed faster, and just a bit harder. ”That's right. You gave me this p.u.s.s.y...” his fingers teased the opening of her s.e.x, gathering her cream, only to return to her aching c.l.i.t. ”and this c.l.i.t. It was made for my fingers, my lips, my tongue....was it not?”
”Yes, Sir!” Her hips rocked in time with his stroking fingers as she rode the edge of release.
”Then give me my o.r.g.a.s.m...” He squeezed her c.l.i.t between his thumb and forefinger, sending her flying over the edge. ”Come for me, Bethany.”
She screamed as pleasure exploded through her pelvis, while she writhed against the solid erection under her a.s.s. So lost in her own pleasure, she wasn't aware of him opening his jeans until she felt the blunt head of his erection pus.h.i.+ng into her s.e.x.
”f.u.c.k.” She clamped down on him, her p.u.s.s.y on fire for more. She lifted up, needing to ride him in tune with the wildfire burning through her, but he caught her hips in his palms.
”No. My way. I want to make love to this beautiful little body. To show you with my body how much I love you. I need to take my time - to savor every moment of your tight little p.u.s.s.y milking my c.o.c.k.”
She groaned as he forced his will upon her. ”You're going to kill me, Sir.”
He gave her a wicked smile at the same time he gave a lazy roll of hips. She jerked as another wave of pleasure burst along her nerve endings. ”Never, but you'll be too sated to complain. In fact, I'm going to take you so thoroughly you won't be able to do anything other than cling to me, by the time I'm done.”
Her head dropped against his shoulder and she whimpered as he continued to push her higher. There was no doubt in her mind that her master would be true to his word. He spent the long morning hours, tenderly, repeatedly f.u.c.king her until she fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter Nineteen.
Three Weeks Later ”Sir?” Bethany yawned around the word as she rolled off Deacon's couch. It'd been nearly two months since they'd found out that she was pregnant, and while they hadn't completely moved in together, Bethany found herself spending more and more time at Deacon's old farmhouse rather than her quaint ranch-style house.
”In here.” Deacon's voice echoed down the hallway from his den - or man cave as she liked to call it. The only thing missing was a pool table - and that was actually in the renovated barn about a hundred feet from the house.
She wandered down the hall, her bare feet making little noise on the cool hardwood flooring. Just before she reached the door, she stripped off one of Deacon's comfortable cotton t-s.h.i.+rt and let it fall to the floor. Maybe she could interest him in a quickie before they headed to the club this afternoon. A smile tugged at her lips when her panties joined the s.h.i.+rt.
Perhaps a spanking when he realizes I raided his stash of goodies.
She gave one of the pilfered nipple clamps a quick flick. Both pain and pleasure surged through her system. She so loved the bite of the clamps and knew from past experience that she could easily come from having them tugged on.
Especially if my Dom would get the stick out of his a.s.s and do it. I won't f.u.c.king break from a little judiciously rough s.e.x. I'm pregnant - not dying.
She sighed in frustration. She truly loved Deacon, but ever since they'd made up from their huge fight, he'd acted like the too-perfect boyfriend. He'd gone to her doctor appointments, had made sure she had plenty of his mother's tea on hand for her d.a.m.ned morning sickness h.e.l.l, he'd even rubbed her aching feet at the end of her s.h.i.+fts at the bar.
Of course, the foot rubs are probably just a means to end. He wants me to set a date and figures I'll give in sooner than later if he proves he can be a good husband.
She should've felt cared for, but she didn't instead it approached 'smothering'. She enjoyed everything he did to her, but she missed her rough a.s.shole. So instead of giving him the answer he wanted, she made plans, plotted, even acted out...all in hopes of luring her master out of hiding. She let go of the clamp.
d.a.m.nit! Didn't he understand she needed him to be her Dom - to demand her submission and punish her when she didn't comply?
G.o.d, I'm so sick of him handling me with kid-gloves.
Which is why she'd concocted this latest stunt in hopes that seeing the result of her sneaky raid into his BDSM toys would remind Deacon she needed her master in his Dom role. She required for both her emotional as well as physical well-being that he continue as her Dom, just as much as she claimed him forever as her lover and future husband. ”You ready to go?” Deacon appeared in the doorway. He froze, and for a second she saw the hunger in his gaze - before he disguised it. ”Seems like you're rather underdressed for our outing, sweetheart.”
She gave him a hesitant smile. ”I was hoping to coax you into a little appetizer before we head out for the club.” She boldly reached up and tugged on the clamp - moaning as the jolt of sensation traveled from her trapped nipple to her c.l.i.t.
He crossed his arms over his chest. ”Topping from the bottom, sub?”
Chewing on her lower lip, she s.h.i.+fted from one foot to the other. ”I guess.” She gave him what she hoped was a playful but pleading look. ”It's been almost two months since we've played at Cattail.” She shrugged her shoulders. ”And what can I say. I miss my Master's touch.”
”Your master is right here.” He drew his hand up her arm. ”Touching you. Holding you close every night.”
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