“Fuck,” he said, slipping a hand down between us to circle my clit. “Get there, Abby.”
Though a part of me wanted not to, just to defy him, I couldn’t do it. My back arched as my orgasm swelled inside me. His thrusts became urgent and his fingers moved faster.
He spoke through clenched teeth. “Fucking get there.”
I fell apart, screaming against his hand as a massive orgasm crashed over me. He grunted in relief and allowed his own release to follow, gasping as he came inside me.
The silence that followed was deafening. I’d not realized just how loud we’d been until there was nothing left but our hearts beating. I feared moving, not wanting to break the stillness.
He moved first, rolling us so he was under me and I rested on him. “Damn you, Abby,” he whispered coarsely, but holding me tight. “Damn you for what you do to me. You are everything to me and part of me dies when I think you don’t trust me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
I stroked his cheek, feeling the wetness there. “I love you, too,” I whispered.
He wasn’t in the bedroom when I woke up the next morning. I heard him talking in the living room, though, so he hadn’t left to start his meetings for the day. I wasn’t quite ready to face him just yet. I wanted to wait as long as possible. I didn’t know what had gotten into me the night before. I’d never spoken to him like I had while wearing his collar.
I rolled out of bed and went to take my shower before seeing him. He would be able to hear the water running, so I made my shower last as long as possible without being overly obvious. I used it partially as a delay tactic.
Nathaniel had laid my outfit on the bed while I showered. Of course, “outfit” wasn’t quite the right word for the thong, bra, and robe waiting for me. They were black. His color choice for discipline sessions. Had it been a regular session, they’d have been silver. My head pounded harder. Damn my mouth for talking in the heat of the moment. I should have handled the situation better.
I finally walked into the living room. He sat at the dining room table, reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee. At the seat next to him was a silver dome-covered plate I assumed to be my breakfast.
“Good morning, Abigail.”
“Good morning, Master.”
“Come sit down and eat.”
I did so, but I hated the unresolved tension between us. It was as if our encounter in the middle of the night hadn’t happened. Breakfast was tasteless, but I knew I had to eat something. I’d told him once how much I hated knowing I had a punishment coming and how the time before he dealt with it made me sick. He’d nodded. Another layer of chastisement, he’d said.
While I ate, he read the paper, though I imagined he kept an eye on how I progressed with breakfast. I ate slowly, dreading what was coming, but acknowledging it had to be done to get us back to where we wanted to be. The truth was, I needed his collar. I just needed to think more about what I needed with respect to what he wanted us to move to. I might as well have been eating cardboard.
Nathaniel wouldn’t let me put it off forever though. I’d eaten most of my pancakes when he stood. “Living room in ten minutes,” he said and then walked into the bedroom.
I pushed the plate aside, unable to eat any more and ready to get it over with. Deciding I’d rather spend my time mentally preparing, I stood and walked to the middle of the living room and knelt.
He entered a few minutes later and I stayed as still as possible and waited for him to speak. His arms were crossed. It hit me then that there was a reason he didn’t follow me into the bedroom immediately last night. He’d been too angry and he would never punish me in anger. He had waited until morning when he’d calmed down. When we’d both calmed down. So he could talk and I could listen and understand.
“As your Dominant, I made a vow that I would never have another submissive service me. As your husband, I promised to never be with another woman. I have not, nor do I intend to, break either vow.” He walked to the bag where he’d packed his various toys and took out a heavy flogger. I winced. He’d used it before. “But that’s not why I’m going to punish you. This is for your attitude, disrespect, and calling me a liar. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“I am not happy to be doing this.”
I’d called him on that once before, how I didn’t buy into the whole “this hurts me more than it hurts you” thing. He’d very calmly sat me down and explained so eloquently how he felt, I’d never doubted him again. I knew as he motioned me toward the window, he took no joy in what was coming.