Page 28 of A Dom Vs. Domme Story
She chuckles. “Mine, please. I miss my bed and my perfectly reasonable toilet.”
“Thought you said my bed was more comfortable.”
“Mine is more familiar.”
“Uh huh.”
I won’t argue with her, but I will say, “One day when we move in together, we’ll use my mattress because it’s so comfortable. But you can pick out the covers so it’s familiar to you.”
Kathryn stiffens. Are you shocked that the woman who has asked me not to propose to her yet is also nervous about possibly moving in together? Yet I am right. We’re using my mattress, because it’s fucking awesome.
“Tell you what,” she finally says. “If you stop talking about this stuff, we’ll go back to our room and you can take me up on my offer for anything you want.”
“What if what I want is to talk about this stuff?”
“Then I’m going to need a lot of alcohol.”
I lightly tug on her ponytail, admiring the way her chin points up and her blue eyes sparkle, even if it’s with uncertainty. I’ve pulled her hair plenty of times, usually with the ferocity of an alpha male laying claim to his mate, but today’s affection is nothing but simple adoration. Kathryn has one of the most beautiful profiles in the world. What’s wrong with admiring it, even if I have to tweak her pose a little?
“No alcohol. I want you to have all your bearings when I fuck you senseless.”
Her expression remains unchanged for a few seconds. Then, as my words sink into her brain, she says with a smile, “Says the man who was sick for days. Think you’ve got the stamina to keep up with me?”
The more she challenges me, the more I want to prove her wrong.
***
Screw an early dinner. Screw picking out a movie. As soon as we get back to our room, already losing out on precious sunlight as it disappears behind the surrounding buildings, I press the love of my life against the wall and kiss her like we both deserve.
You ever kiss your lover after a long time apart? Sure, we’ve seen each other every day on this trip, but we haven’t had a kiss like this since the night before I got sick. Even one week is too long when you’re in love and want to make the most of the moment. Helps that we’re both excellent kissers, thank you. Helps even more that I know every bit of her mouth and what feels best when we’re revving up for a hot and heavy time.
Fuck me. I’m hard already. It’s like the moment I realize I’m about to have sex everything goes haywire and I become my most base, animalistic self. Kathryn says it’s hot, though, so I’ll go ahead and let it reign.
She groans against my mouth. I groan into hers, my hands splayed against the wall as I ravage her lips and tangle with her tongue.
“Fuck me,” she groans against my throat. “Hot damn have I missed you.”
She’s talking about in the Biblical way, obviously. As a man, that soothes my manly ego a lot more than her saying“Hi baby, we haven’t been in each other’s presence in a month, and I miss you! Let’s get dinner!”A man wants to know that his woman desires him every day of her life, whether we can do it or not. Trust me, I ain’t no stranger to going all night with her. Doesn’t happen every day, but do I dream about it? Fuck yes.
“You’ve missed me? You’re the gorgeous one with the best pussy for getting cozy in.” She laughs. I knew she’d like that joke. You know you’ve got the best girlfriend when you can joke about getting cozy in her pussy and all she does is laugh like you’re the funniest bastard on SNL. “Maybe I should do that right now.”
“What? Get cozy in my pussy?” My belt is undone. Kathryn’s grabby hands pull it off, the leather and metal clanking to the ground. Next she’s going to unzip me. Nope. Can’t handle it. I also can’t handle her hiking up her skirt without my help. What? She wants to do it right here? I mean, I can provide that experience for no extra charge, but I had other fantasies in mind. After all, I get whatever I want tonight.
I grab her by the wrists and push her hands against the wall. That knowing look dawns on her relaxed countenance. That’s right. I’m asserting myself. Dom Ian hasn’t come around in a while. I’m overdo for more than sex tonight. I think she is too.
It’s been a long road opening Kathryn’s mind up to taking on the other role in BDSM scenes. To be fair, it was an even longer road for me. But I think the main difference between us is that she gets a lot more out of submitting than I do. I mostly do it because it makes her happy (and yes, it’s a good orgasmic time when I’m in the mood.) She submits because she’s discovered she actually needs it to calm the fuck down in her hectic life.
If I take total control, then she doesn’t have to worry about anything. Doesn’t have to make decisions. Doesn’t have to feel bad about enjoying what we’re doing. I’ve taken those worries and fears away from her. My burden is to alleviate the shit on her mind and stressing out her beautiful body. My drive to take care of her – while also indulging in my perverted fantasies, ahem – is what fuels our sex life half the time.
So, even though I was the one sick out of his mind this past week, she’s the one who bore the brunt of the worry and stress. Even though it wasn’t my fault I put her through that, I feel like I need to make it up to her. I need to dominate this scene so she doesn’t have to worry about a thing. Kathryn is going to let go ofeverythingand start anew by the time we get home. I owe that much to her.
No pressure. Besides, this is the night I’ve fantasized about, right?
“Take off your clothes,” I tell her. “Leave the lingerie on, though.” I release her before going to the nearest lounge chair and sitting down. “Strip for me.”
She’s already started by the time my gaze lingers on her again. Pop, pop, pop. Goodbye buttons holding her jacket together. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, there goes the sleeves down her arms. Fwump. On the floor.
Not once does she stop looking at me. Her gaze is full of affection. Adoration. Unquestionable love. Her sleepy bedroom eyes invite me to take advantage of what she feels for me, the only man she would probably ever marry.
