She hadn’t called me and, as much as I wanted to check up on her, I held back. I didn’t want to overwhelm her, and I wanted to give her time to reconsider.
I heard a car pull up the circular drive around two o’clock, and I walked to the front of the house. Todd and Elaina must have arrived. Apollo hung back behind me.
“Nathaniel,” Elaina said, rushing forward to hug me. “How are you?”
“Good, Elaina,” I said. “Thanks.”
Todd held a garment bag and a box of shoes. “Nathaniel,” he said, smiling.
“Hey, Todd.” I took the bag and box. “I assume these are for me?”
“Sure, man,” he said. “Silver’s your color.”
Fuck. Elaina told him.
“I’ve heard it does wonders for your skin tone,” he said.
Elaina punched him on the arm. “Be nice.”
“Come on in,” I said, walking inside, ignoring the skin tone comment.
I hung the bag in the coat closet. I would take it up to Abigail’s room later. We walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I tried to push from my mind that in a few hours, Abigail and I would be sitting here. And that shortly after that, we’d go upstairs—
“So,” Elaina said, interrupting my thoughts. “What are you doing at home today?”
I got up and poured us all a glass of tea. “I’m taking the day off.”
“You don’t take days off,” Todd said.
“Sure I do.” I set their glasses down. “I took New Year’s Day off. I took Christmas off.” I wrinkled my forehead like I was in deep thought. “And I’m quite positive I took Thanksgiving off. Day after, too, now that I think about it.”
I put the tea pitcher back in the refrigerator.
“You know what I mean,” Todd said.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I just wanted to take a day off. Hang out with Apollo, you know?”
Todd and Elaina exchanged a look. Damn. It was the same look Jackson had given me earlier in the week. Was everyone in on something?
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Todd said. He winked at Elaina. “Round of golf still on for tomorrow?”
Before I’d collared Abigail, I’d agreed to play golf with Jackson and Todd this weekend. I couldn’t very well get out of it. “Sure thing,” I said. “Golf tomorrow.”
Who could talk about tomorrow? Who could think past tonight?
How much longer until six o’clock? I looked at my watch. Too damn long.
“Everything okay?” Elaina asked. “You look distracted.”
Damn right I’m distracted, I wanted to shout. Who the hell wouldn’t be distracted?
Instead I sat down and took a sip of tea. I was calm. I could do calm. “Not at all,” I said. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
I didn’t think they believed me.
I opened the door when I heard the car service in the drive. Abigail’s eyes darted to the front door as she got out of the car and she gave me a timid smile.
“Abigail,” I said. “It’s good to see you this evening.”
“Thank you.”
She was nervous. I could tell by the way her gaze flickered over everything. Yet the few times she looked my way, her eyes grew dark with yearning and desire. Perhaps her week had been just as long as mine. I could tell without asking that she had followed the command I gave her before she left last weekend—she was not to touch herself during the week.
I led her to the kitchen, and we sat down to eat the clam sauce I’d made after Elaina and Todd left. Cooking had calmed me down.
“How was your week?” I asked after she started eating.
A smile tickled the corner of her mouth. “Long. How was yours?”
I couldn’t tell her it had been the same for me. That I’d spent too much time planning the night, imagining it. To do so would give too much of me away. So I just shrugged, playing it cool. She needed me to be in control.
We continued eating. “Apollo killed a gopher,” I said.
She looked slightly taken aback, and her cheeks bore the faintest of pink flushes. She wasn’t expecting that, for me to make normal conversation. It made her even more needy, got her more worked up. Playing Abigail was going to be an absolute treat. I would savor every second.
Sex didn’t start in bed. Sex started in the way you moved, the way you talked. It was whispered, conveyed with a subtle look.
“My friend Todd’s wife, Elaina, brought a gown by earlier,” I said, because we wouldn’t have another chance to talk about the benefit after dinner. “They’re looking forward to meeting you.”
“Your friends? Does everyone know about us?” Her voice was anxious.
I took my time twirling a bite of pasta. I’m in control of this, Abigail. Trust me. I ate a forkful before answering. “They know you’re my date. They don’t know about our agreement.”
I leaned back and watched her eat. She compulsively cut her pasta up and took several small bites. At one point she looked up, saw me watching, and went back to studying her pasta.
A few more seconds and I’d have her right where I wanted her.
She suddenly put down her fork. “So do you plan to touch me this weekend or not?” she blurted.
Yes.
“Ask me the question in a more respectful manner, Abigail. Just because this is your table doesn’t mean you can talk to me any way you choose.”
Her gaze fell to the table. “Will you touch me this weekend, Master?”
“Look at me,” I said, because I wanted to see her eyes.
Her expression was conflicted—she knew she’d misspoken—but I’d overlook it this one time. And since she’d asked . . .
“I plan to do more than touch you. I plan to f**k you. Hard and repeatedly.”
Her lips parted and her eyes grew wide with excitement, dinner forgotten.Yes . . .
I pushed back from the table. “Let’s get started, shall we? I want you n**ed and on my bed in fifteen minutes.”
Chapter Seven
It was time.
I took my time climbing the stairs, wanting to prolong the moment. I left Apollo outside the door and stepped into the candlelit room. Abigail waited for me on the bed. Naked, just as I’d asked.
I’d realized early in the week I wouldn’t be able to take her the first time without covering her eyes. It would be too much—I would give something away. Nor did I want her to touch me. Again, it would be too intimate. I needed to take her bound first, to allow myself to grow accustomed to her body. There would be time later for her to touch me. To watch me.
Her eyes followed me as I approached the bed, and I knew I’d made the right decision. I walked to the edge of the bed and lifted a shackle. Her eyes grew wide and, for a second, it appeared as if she would turn and leave the room.
Something inside told her this was wrong, that she should not be allowing me to do this. But the bigger part of her knew what she wanted and she let that side of herself win.
“I wasn’t going to do this tonight,” I said as I bound her spread-eagle to the bed, “but I can see you still don’t understand completely. You are mine, and you are to do and behave as I tell you. The next time you speak disrespectfully to me, I will spank you. Nod if you understand.”
It seemed as good a reason as any to bind and blindfold her, and I really meant the part about spanking her. I’d let her slide too many times as it was.
She nodded in agreement, and a faint smile crossed her face.
“My last submissive could make me cl**ax three times a night.” I wanted Abigail to outdo her. “I want to try for four. And I want you totally at my mercy.”
I drew a black scarf from my pocket, and again the internal battle raged behind her brown eyes.
Trust me.
I covered her eyes and stepped back.
She’d just allowed me, an almost perfect stranger, to tie her up and blindfold her. She was offering herself to me in the most intimate way there was. She trusted me.
I didn’t deserve her trust.
My eyes swept over her n**ed form. I wanted to make it good for her, to give her what she wanted. What she’d been searching for.
I undid my zipper, and my erection sprang free. Damn, I was so hard, it hurt.
I climbed up on the bed and sat beside her. She was mine to touch now. We were both ready. Finally. I placed my hands on her shoulders, noting the way her heart beat. Rapid.
Exactly like mine.
I dragged my fingertips down her sides, running along the outer edges of her br**sts, bringing my hands back together at her belly. So much better than last week. I had been limited then by her sitting down in the bathrobe, but now . . . now she was spread n**ed before me.
I let one finger skim her pussy—she was already wet. “How long has it been, Abigail?” How long since another man claimed what was now mine? “Answer me.”
I brought my finger to my lips and tasted her.
So sweet. I wanted to bury my face between her legs and taste her completely, and I would have, but my c**k had other plans.
“Three years.”
Three years?
Shit. No wonder she felt so tight. I slipped a finger into her again and leaned in to whisper, “You’re not ready yet. You need to be ready, or else I won’t be able to ride you as hard as I want.”
I took a deep breath and lowered myself to her, allowed myself to taste her neck. Her skin was smooth against my mouth. I parted my lips and nibbled down to her collarbone. The candlelight winked off the diamonds on her collar and I pushed it out of the way to swirl my tongue around the hollow of her throat. I went lower, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, how her br**sts pushed upward, ni**les hard. I kissed my way to one breast, circling the nipple.
Oh, God. Her taste.
I sucked at her breast, drawing her into my mouth, enjoying the way she filled me.
Mm.
I licked her nipple, flicked my tongue over it. Her h*ps shifted on the bed and she moaned. I gave her a gentle tug with my teeth, moved to the other side and sucked at her other breast. I drew her deeper into my mouth, bit her harder.
She writhed against me. Desperate.
I gave her some of what she craved, dragging my fingers roughly across her body before plunging them into her. I smiled to myself when she lifted her h*ps again. She was ready. Finally.
I tore myself away from her breast and straddled her, moving up her body so my c**k rested between her br**sts, right where her heart pounded.
“Do you think you’re ready, Abigail? Because I’m tired of waiting. Are you ready? Answer me!”
“Yes, Master. Please. Yes.”
I pushed my c**k to her lips, wanting her to feel it. “Kiss my cock. Kiss it before it f**ks you.”
Her lips came up and gently brushed me, but as I watched, her tongue came out and she licked me.
I nearly came all over her face.
Fuck.
She couldn’t go off doing things like that, disobeying me. I lightly slapped her cheek. “I didn’t tell you to do that.”
I slid down her body to the apex of her legs. With one hand, I lifted her hips, and with the other, I placed myself at her entrance.
I took a deep breath.
Abigail held hers.
Ever so slowly, I pushed myself into her. She was tight and wet and hot and felt better than any woman should feel. I pushed farther, wanting to close my eyes to enjoy the sensation and simultaneously wanting to keep them open so I could watch as I finally claimed Abigail King.
Tight. She was so tight.
Fuck.
The angle was wrong. I couldn’t fit inside all the way.
“Damn.” I rocked back and forth, sliding in a bit deeper, but it wasn’t enough. “Move with me.”
She lifted her h*ps and, yes, that was it. I slipped in deeper.
I looked down—I was almost completely inside. I closed my eyes and thrust hard. A groan ripped from my throat as I entered her fully. I stayed still for a moment, enjoying the feel of her, trying to sear into memory the feel of her hot and wet around me. I looked down to our joined bodies and allowed my eyes to take in the sight of Abigail bound to my bed.