Page 25 of The Dom

I moved quickly, knowing she was done. She might not even feel up to having me inside her, but as soon as I laid her back on the bed, I reached for a condom and rolled it on. Better to be prepared.

“Again?” I asked as I went to my knees in front of her. “You know what to do. Beg me to stop, and I’ll fuck you. Say your word, and I’ll take care of myself after I finish taking care of you.”

“Yes, please.” She raised her head enough to see me. “No more. Please. Fuck me. I can’t. I can’t. Fuck me and be done. Ple–”

The last word turned into a silent scream as I drove into her with one smooth thrust. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait, or even pause. This wasn’t about drawing things out, making her feel good. Going slow would actually feel worse for her right now, and with how badly my cock had been throbbing, I was grateful for it. I didn’t think I could last much more than two or three more strokes. She felt too good, and I was too far gone.

I made it to four before I came.

My legs were weak when I climbed out of bed, but I was still in better shape than Ashlee. By the time I returned to the bed, she’d already passed out. After I’d cleaned her up, I took her into my bedroom without a second thought.

It wasn’t until I climbed in next to her that I realized how much I was looking forward to this part of the night too. For the first time in my life, I wanted to fall asleep with a woman in my arms, and the realization freaked me out.

Fortunately, I was tired enough to push that aside and wrap my arms around Ashlee. I was asleep before anything else could occur to me.

Sixteen

Ashlee

This was not my bed.

That was the first thing I realized when I woke up. The second thing was that someone had their arm around me. A muscular arm attached to someone who smelled really good.

Everything came rushing back to me, and my eyes flew open. Nate was still asleep, his face only an inch or so from mine.

Right. I was at Nate’s place. I’d talked to Finley. The three of us had eaten dinner. Nate and I’d had sex. But this didn’t look like the same room where we’d been the last time I remembered being awake.

I was naked under the sheet and comforter, but I suspected Nate had cleaned me up before bringing me in here. He’d taken care of me, the way I’d known he would. As intense as last night had been, I’d never once felt like he didn’t have me. I was always safe with him.

And it was because of how he made me feel that I’d wanted to please him. It was how I’d managed to endure that last, overwhelming, half-painful orgasm. The pleasure I’d felt had come as much from the pride I’d seen on Nate’s face as it had from the physical aspect of things.

He hadn’t said anything, but I knew he’d been as stressed about Finley learning the truth as I had been. Still, he’d taken care of me and not himself. Now it was my turn to take care of him.

I eased my way out of his grip and headed for the bathroom. My entire body ached more than it ever had before, and that wasn’t even counting the way everything between my legs was still throbbing. I was pretty sure that I didn’t want anything coming into contact with my clitoris at any point in the near future.

Even the thought of washing made me frown.

When I got out of the shower, I braided my hair rather than drying it, then went back into Nate’s bedroom, half-expecting him to already be awake, but he was still sleeping. In fact, he was now laying on his stomach, and the covers had shifted with him, leaving that gorgeous broad expanse of his well-muscled back bare for me to ogle for a minute before trying to decide what to wear.

I hadn’t brought any clothes with me yesterday, so my choices were limited to what I’d been wearing last night and finding something in Nate’s closet. It didn’t take long for me to opt for the latter. I pulled a t-shirt from his top drawer and tugged it over my head. It hit me mid-thigh, which left plenty of skin bare, but I didn’t mind.

I ambled into the kitchen, the tiles cool under my feet. I was hungry, and I knew Nate would be too when he woke up. The least I could do for him was make breakfast. I wasn’t quite up to his culinary skill level, but I could put together some basics at least.

Toasted bagels with cream cheese. Two pears. And some cereal that surprised me with the cute cartoon character on the front. If I hadn’t known that he didn’t have kids, I might’ve thought he kept that stuff for his visitation weekends, but I’d already learned that Nate’s personality had a couple aspects hidden to pretty much everyone.

The way his face lit up when he came out of the bedroom told me I was right. That cereal was one of his little things, something I was privileged to see, and it warmed me, knowing that I had a little piece of him that very few other people had.

“Thank you for making breakfast,” he said as he poured himself coffee from the pot that’d just finished brewing.

I watched to see how he took his drink, filing the information away for future use. I was surprised at how much I liked being able to take care of him. This entire dynamic between us was different than any sort of relationship I’d ever imagined, let alone what I would’ve pictured for a ‘nontraditional’ sort of thing.

Non-vanilla? I made a mental note to research some terminology and then remembered that Nate had told me that he was going to be my teacher. I needed to find out if that included general definitions, or I could end up getting punished again.

I blushed as I remembered how much I’d enjoyed my punishments so far, though that wasn’t a sentiment I would’ve felt comfortable sharing with just anyone. Before I’d gotten involved with Nate, I never would’ve understood the appeal of something that sounded humiliating, or worse, cruel. What we’d done hadn’t been either of those things. A little embarrassing, maybe, but that had been more because of the standards society had ingrained in me from a young age. What things were ‘acceptable’ and what weren’t. Even as open-minded as I’d been raised by my ‘different’ mothers, there’d still be certain things we hadn’t discussed.

“There’s a whole lot going on in that head of yours right now, isn’t there?” Nate asked before taking a bite of his bagel.

“There’s usually a lot going on in my head,” I admitted. “My mom always says I think too much about everything.” I took a sip of the coffee I’d poured but essentially ignored. It was still hot enough to be good.

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