Page 84 of Secrets in Love
We stood face to face, our cheeks flushed, our chests heaving.
“Fuck yes I would.” I lunged at Nate, and he scooped me up and into his arms, gripping my ass and kissing me hard as I wrapped my leg around his body and clung for dear life. “I’m so fucking angry at you,” I growled as he licked my neck. “Take me to bed.”
Halfway up the stairs, with my tongue halfway down Nate’s throat, a muffled request was made. “I know I’ve been bad, but I want you to call me a good boy again, Evie. I need you to punish and forgive and praise me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it.”
The throb of lust and power was dizzying. “Whatever it takes?”
He stopped in his tracks, and that same rumble flowed through him. “Yes, Evie.”
The remaining distance was taken in strides the BFG would have been proud of. Once in my room, I was recklessly thrown on the bed. Nate had the door locked and was undressing before I’d even gotten my bearings. The sound of his belt unbuckling then sliding through each loop increased the pounding of my heart, and he pulled it free, then threw it on the bed beside me, and I feared cardiac arrest. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”
I looked at the leather strap laying against my thigh. My mouth watered, and I knew how to teach my brat to behave. Moving to the edge of the bed, I slowly spread my thighs and eyed his erection straining against his zipper. “Will you let me spank you?”
His eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably, and his head rolled backward. “Fuck yes, Evie. I want you to…I want you to hurt me.”
Before I lost my nerve, I lunged at Nate and pulled him onto his knees between my thighs. “Get naked. I’ll be back.” He nodded obediently, smiled a smile I’d yet to see in all the years of knowing him, and began to remove his jeans. “Actually, leave your boxers on,” I ordered. “I want to take them off you.” He nodded again and began awkwardly removing his jeans while remaining on his knees in a way that would normally have me laughing. Then he stilled, his eyes closed, his body waiting. He looked amazing—shirtless, kneeling, his hair already a sweaty mess from anticipation alone. It was so tempting and would have been so easy to push him onto his back and ride him then and there on the floor, but having him do as I say, begging for punishment and praise, was so fucking sexy I had to follow through. I pet his hair, whispered, “Good boy,” then left him and stepped into my walk-in closet.
Unbeknownst to Nate, after hearing his horny-ass teenage confessions about our old English teacher, Mrs. Fraser, I decided to dress as her for Halloween. Teddy had escorted me on a little shopping trip downtown and helped me choose the perfect outfit, but with Finn and Iris out trick-or-treating and Jocelyn out to dinner with friends, Nate and I decided to stay at home and enjoy a rare night just the two of us. I still could have worn the outfit, of course, but I chickened out at the last minute. Halloween may have come and gone, but the costume still hung in my closet, and I was not wimping out this time.
As fast as I could with trembling hands, I slipped out of my leggings and hoodie and into a scandalous, Carrie Bradshaw-worthy black bustier, white shirt, and black vest. Just as with Mrs. Fraser, the majority of buttons were accessories and lay undone, exposing the lacy bustier beneath. My tits looked fantastic, so good that when I tried it on at the store, Teddy claimed even he would fancy a motorboat ride.
Nerves built as I pinned my hair into a makeshift chignon, painted my lips with the darkest red lipstick I owned, then stepped into the tight leather pencil skirt. As I shimmed it over my hips, I felt the final haunting remnants of Frigid Evie leave my body. Nate may have wanted this, he may have gotten off on me bossing him around and enjoyed the stinging pain, but this was for me too. I couldn’t tell him that I loved him. I couldn’t tell him that he was mine. But like this, I could claim not only my sexuality, but my control. I could command, own, and praise him in such a way that even when he went home, when he let go of me and moved on, he would know he once belonged to me.
With the black stilettos I could hardly walk in crippling my feet, I strutted before my still kneeling man. Fisting his hair, I slowly raised his head, allowing him time to take in and hopefully appreciate my attire. “Holy mother of fuck, Evie.” I was desperate to smile but held it in.
“You know I’m a rookie. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to play a game with you.” Nate nodded and wet his lips. “You’ve been bad Nathaniel, and it’s time for me to give you your punishment. Oh, and you can call me Mistress Evie, young man.” I took the meter ruler—or yardstick as the guy in the shop insisted on calling it—and tapped it into my palm. In an instant, the grin that spread across Nate’s lips and the hungry look in his eyes was tattooed into my eyelids.
“Mistress Evie,” he sighed. I ordered him to stand, and when he did, I took his place, dropping the ruler and dropping to my knees. In all the sexual exploration I had undertaken, I had yet to go down on Nate, and that was about to change. “You don’t have to do this, Eves.” I slapped his thigh. “Mistress Evie,” he corrected.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. I want to taste you.” His guttural moan spurred me on. Shaking, I took the waistband of his boxers in my teeth and slowly tugged them down. My eyes followed the direction of his incredibly cut V that was so fucking hot I had to pause and lick it, causing another, deeper groan, and twitch.If I can make him react like that with that one tap of my tongue, what will he do when I take him in my mouth?Again, I took the cotton between my teeth and pulled, eyeing his emerging cock that was so big and hard and, apparently, pinned down like a tightly coiled spring. That thing burst to life like a fucking jack in the box, smacking me right in the chin and knocking me onto my ass in a fit of laughter. “Eves! I’m so fucking sorry!” The poor guy looked trapped between mortification and wetting himself laughing.
I shook my head, regained my composure, and resumed my position. “Mistress Evie, remember?” Before he could reply, I cupped his balls in my hand and lightly tugged.
“Mistress Evie,” he squeaked.
“Good boy.”
Nate
On the ever-growing list of things Evie and I never discussed—Polly, Fuckface Christian, how many women I’d slept with, that fucking asshole Luke Bailey, me leaving, hernotleaving—Evie going semi-domme, and me loving it, was my favorite. I never pegged myself as the type. But it was Evie. My Evie. I’d let her tear out my heart and eat it if I thought it would make her happy.
Those playful yet forceful slaps on my ass the first time we were together should have given it away, but I was too overcome by the enormity of the choking situation to give it due thought. But with the benefit of hindsight, and the constant replaying of the moment in my head, the arrows lined up and pointed in one kinky direction.
It was easy to see how Little Evie Austen, a woman who’d reined in her sexuality and denied herself pleasure for so long, whose life had been controlled by her desire to please and care for those around her, had lost her sense of self. And why she would seek some kind of control when trying to find it. Luckily with me, she was comfortable to both let it all go and reclaim it…or at least begin to. And I was more than willing to be her tool of self-discovery.
The memory of that bath was always there, following everywhere, swirling around and between us like one of my many beer farts…but much more enjoyable. Whatever the scenario, wherever I was, each time the wordyesleft my lips, I heard my submissive,Yes, Evie.And her forceful, sexy-as-fuck,Good boy.
Each day began with me desperate to hear her praise. To feel her fingers slip around my throat, her nails dig into my flesh, and her pussy tighten around my cock as she squeezed. But my forceful little vixen had yet to produce an encore performance.
Until…
Our first make-up sex gifted me the opportunity I’d been waiting for. After asking to spank me and dressing as the sexy fucking teacher I told her I’d once fantasized about, she was kneeling before me, about to take me into her mouth. I wasn’t quite sure how this was punishment, but I wasn’t about to complain. Her tits were bursting from her black lingerie, her sexy ass was squeezed into a black leather skirt, and she wielded a meter ruler, just like Mrs. Fraser had done all those years ago, but a thousand times hotter.
“Can I please touch you?” I whispered.
“You may touch my hair. Only my hair.”
Quick as a flash, I loosened the clip hiding her killer curls away and watched as they gracefully fell around her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed.
