Chapter 32 Emma
EMMA
Now that I know that John is Daddy Dom, we’ve yet to visit the club, and that fact just feels plain wrong. I want to experience it all, without him holding back.
And sneaking around on campus is getting increasingly difficult when we both have roommates. Not to mention the creep that’s leaving me letters. I haven’t gotten any since the threatening one, and I’m hoping that means that whoever it was has lost interest.
When we walk into the club a week later, I’m elated to finally get my wish: to see John unleash his true, full inner dom.
He leads me down the darkened hallway toward his private room, his hand pressed to my lower back, guiding me. Once I enter his room and he closes the door behind me, the noise of the club is muted and his crisp, masculine scent permeates my senses as he towers over me.
“Every word I utter is a command I expect you to follow. Every pause is deliberate. Intentional. I need your total obedience. Not just your body.” He swipes a thumb across my forehead.
His touch is featherlight. Delicate. “Don’t think about anything else.
Don’t daydream. Don’t let your mind wander.
If I sense you pulling away, I’ll bring you back.
I don’t want part of your mind, half of your focus, or some of your attention.
I want it all. It’s mine. Nod if you understand. ”
I nod quickly.
He grabs my hand, guiding me across the room to a device that looks like a padded picnic table, but smaller. “This is called a horse bench. Remove your clothing and straddle the top and put your weight on your hands and knees.”
“Yes, sir.” I undress and then he takes my hand, steadying me as I climb onto the contraption.
His fingertips graze my calves in measured strokes. “Clear your mind and concentrate on my touch. Focus only on the spots where you can feel me.”
My nerve endings come alive everywhere his fingers roam. The bottoms of my feet, the sides of my calves, the backs of my legs. His fingers pause along the crease of my inner thigh, teasing me in a slow caress. A whimper escapes me.
“Do you know how sexy you look right now heeding my every command?” His hot breath tickles the hairs at my nape. “I’m going to restrain you now,” he says, his hands never leaving my body as they trail down each of my limbs while he cuffs me to the bench.
He steps away, and I miss his touch instantly. I can hear him opening drawers and cabinets on the other side of the room, and I focus on my breathing and the arousal gathering in my belly.
There is nothing I want more than for him to touch me. Craving his touch on my skin. Desperate to feel the press of his lips on me. Shivering as his tongue traces every curve of my body. I never thought I would get to this point with anyone.
“Focus on the sound of my voice. The weight of my fingers on you. The bite of the leather against your skin,” he says as a new sensation lights up my senses.
I jerk my head in his direction, “Wh–what is that?”
He pops my backside lightly with the implement. “I gave you a command, pet, and it didn’t involve you speaking.”
My mouth closes involuntarily at his words, the response Pavlovian and automatic.
“This is a flogger,” he says, holding it in front of my face so I can see. “Do you trust me, pet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck, you know what that phrase and your obedience does to me.”
My eyes travel to his crotch, and I can see the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, aching to be free.
He drops the flogger and grabs his belt with one hand, removing it in one fluid motion as it cracks in the air, his tattooed bicep flexing with the movement. Immediately I clench my thighs against the bench. I can feel my arousal dripping from me.
“Look at me. Eyes on mine.”
My gaze shifts up to his and I’m stunned by the affection I see there. “Such an obedient pet. You’re doing so well. Always the best student for me, giving your attention to what edifies you.”
When he bends down to pick up the flogger, I watch enraptured, waiting for my next command.
“Place your cheek against the bench and close your eyes,” he says, and I comply.
I can hear the rustling of the strands of the flogger, and I imagine him stroking it in his hand.
His movements halt and I feel the leathery fringe tickle my arms and back.
He takes his time, pulling the braids against my body, lighting up my flesh with each pass as goosebumps prickle my skin.
I let out needy whimpers each time he circles my bottom.
Please. Please. Please. I need more.
More pressure.
More of him.
More bites of pain only for him to soothe it away with his tongue.
Suddenly my backside is assaulted with tiny sharp pricks of pain.
It’s oddly comforting, the discomfort lasting a second before my skin tingles in a delicious sensation.
And then his warm hand caresses and cups each cheek.
His touch feels reverent, and I fight to stay lucid as a surge of pleasure courses through me like a tidal wave threatening to pull me under.
“You like that,” he muses, and I nod slightly against the bench.
He repeats his movements with the flogger. Spending several minutes punishing my ass, gradually increasing the intensity and duration before lavishing me with soft touches, kneading and kissing my skin. I don’t realize how much I’m bucking against the bench until his words pull me back.
“You only come when I tell you to, pet. And from what I can tell, you’re three seconds away from humping that bench into completion. Can you feel the mess you’re making rubbing that perfect pink cunt all over my bench?”
“Yes, sir,” I whine. I’m needy and out of breath, stilling my movements. Barely holding on. I need this man inside of me. I need him to make me come.
The sound of his zipper opening is loud in my ears as I squeeze my eyes tight, bracing for the sensation of him filling me.
When the tip of his cock brushes my lips, slowly gliding back and forth through my wetness, I shudder. And when he pushes in seconds later, I gasp.
We’ve yet to try this position, and it’s an entirely different sensation than the ones we’ve done before. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling every inch of me, his cock impossibly huge as he gently pulses in and out so I can adjust to him.
“I will never, never get over this,” His words are choppy, strained as he pushes in, punctuating each word with a thrust. “This.” Thrust. “Perfect.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Cunt.” Thrust. “The way it stretches for me.” Thrust. “The way it flutters and pulses around me.” Thrust. “The way I feel when you’re stuffed so full of me, I can’t tell where I end and you begin. Fuck.”
His words are my undoing as I fall over the edge, my orgasm crashing into me in wave after wave, as bursts of light explode against the backs of my eyes. It’s so intense, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“That’s it. Come on my cock, pet. Squeeze it, show me how good I make you feel. Make a mess all over me. I want to be covered in your cum, knowing I’m the only man to ever make you come undone.”
I can feel his movements slow as I come down from the high of my orgasm. When he pulls out of me, I whimper loudly. The number of times this man has drawn that kind of sound out of me tonight should be embarrassing.
His warm hand caresses my cheek and my eyes flutter open. He moves slightly, blocking the overhead light from shining in my eyes as I squint up at him.
“Are you still with me?” He presses his mouth to my forehead, placing several soft kisses there. I nod my agreement.
There’s gentle tugging at my wrists and ankles as he loosens my restraints and helps me sit up. Bending down to look me in the eyes, his stare is penetrating as though he’s trying to peer into my soul.
“I think it’s time for some aftercare while you come down.”
I blink at him in confusion.
“It’s common for submissives to enter a state of euphoria during an intense scene. Based on the way your pupils are dilated, I’m guessing you’re feeling pretty good right now. Maybe like you’re a little drunk or high?”
“Is this subspace?” I rasp, surprised by the sound of my voice. “I read about this.”
He chuckles. “Of course you did. Ever the astute teacher’s pet.”
“I love it when you use big words when you say nice things to me. It’s sexy.” I giggle.
“Then allow me to elucidate how incredible you are. Meticulous. Fulgent. Ebullient.”
“You know those aren’t synonyms for incredible,” I tease. When he swats my behind, I gasp.
“So clever. And Jocund. Jubilant. Docile. Lyrical. Demure. Jovial,” He punctuates each word with a kiss as he slides his arms under my legs and picks me up, pulling me to his chest so I can wrap my legs around his waist. The tip of his cock stretches up his abdomen, brushing against me with each step he takes.
I tighten my grip around his neck as I rub myself against his rigid length.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Is all this for me?”
“This is what you do to me. Only you,” I admit.
He moves quickly over to the lounger, sinking into the deep curve in the middle of it, as he pulls me atop him.
I melt against his chest, nuzzling my head into him as I reach up to trace the lines of his skull tattoo.
His jaw flexes and he hisses in a breath as I get bold in my movements, grinding my center against him in slow quick thrusts.
“Did you finish?” I ask, looking up at him as the fingers stroking my back pause their movements.
“Tonight isn’t about my needs,” he says, cupping my cheek. “It’s about yours. You come first. You will always come first to me.”
His tone is serious, making it obvious that he’s not just talking about my pleasure. I tilt my head up to his as he slowly moves his lips closer to mine. “I love you, John,” I whisper softly right before his lips touch mine.
He stiffens against me, and then pulls back abruptly, holding my face in both hands and searching my eyes.
“Don’t tell me that right now.”
Blood rushes to my face as I squirm in his hold, wanting to escape his scrutiny and his command. “What?”
“Do you trust me, pet?”
Reluctantly, I give him a single nod.
“Do you want to please your dom?”
Again, I give him a solitary nod of agreement.
“Then you have to obey every command I give you in here. And I’m telling you not to tell me that right now.
Not when we’re in the middle of a scene.
Not when you’re coming out of subspace and aren’t fully in control of your mind and words.
Not when I can’t know for sure if it’s the high of your orgasm making you confess what you think I want to hear. ”
He leans forward, pulling my cheek against his as he speaks against my ear.
“Don’t confess the words I’ve been waiting to hear since the day you stood up to me about how I graded your paper.
Don’t get my hopes up when I can’t be sure it’s not the endorphins making you confess something you don’t really feel.
Don’t make me fall more in love with you than I already am.
Not when I can’t fully be with you the way you deserve. ”
I’m not alone—he feels this too. This all-consuming feeling that keeps drawing us together like magnets.
My heart beats wildly in my chest as our breathing slowly synchronizes.
The cool metal of my nipple piercings heats against the warmth of his skin.
I turn over his words in my mind, trying to pull the unspoken meaning from them.
“I want to hear your words when you have a clear mind. I need them so goddamn much.” His voice breaks on the last word, and I turn my head, pulling his lips to mine.
And I kiss him. Hard. Slow. Deliberately.
With all the love I have in me, pouring it all into the kiss.
If he won’t let me confess it with my words, I’m determined to show him with the press of my lips to his, the exploratory stroke of my tongue into his mouth, the way I dig my fingers into his skin to pull him closer as I thrust against his erection pinned between us.
We stay like that for what feels like ages, exploring each other’s mouths with our lips, teeth, and tongues as our hands roam each other’s bodies, groping, pinching, and caressing.
It’s one long confession of feelings passing between us, and I’ve never felt more at peace, never felt safer, like this is exactly where I was meant to be my whole life, wrapped up in this man’s arms.
My arousal is at a fever pitch, and my thoughts are consumed with pleasure, his specifically. This man has spent all night worshipping my body and I want to make sure he knows how much I appreciate him. How much I need him to fall apart at my touch.
Tilting forward, I press my chest against his as I lift up, snaking a hand down to line him up with my pussy. When I slowly sink down on his length he breaks the kiss, groaning in appreciation.
“Oh fuck, Em. The way your pussy feels gripping my cock is incomparable. I could live in this cunt every day,” he rasps, slowly rocking up into me.
“I want that. So much. Every day, just like this. Oh God!” I can barely get the words out as I concentrate on the way he feels moving under me. The flex of his abs with each thrust. The press of his forehead against mine as he starts chanting my name.
“Oh shit, Emma. Need this. Emma, fuck. Need you so much. Em,” he rasps against my lips. It’s not a shout from the rooftops, but the intensity in his voice is palpable as my orgasm hits and my fervid cries spill from my lips.
Our heavy breaths fill the space as I drop my head against his shoulder. Strong hands glide up and down my back. I’m uncertain whether he expects me to get off his lap, but I’ve learned to obey his command, and he remains composed beneath me. When I shift nervously, he places his hands on my hips.
“Don’t.”
I blink rapidly against his skin, waiting for further instructions.
“Don’t move,” he pleads, digging his fingertips into the flesh of my skin.
I exhale a shuddering breath, anticipation overwhelming me as I hang on his words.
“You feel incredible.”
My chest expands and contracts as each rise and fall against him feels like a tether, tying our souls together.
“I don’t want this to end.” I whisper the words against his skin in a silent prayer.
Something shifts between us at my confession. He grips my jaw, forcing me to look at him as he presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering as he speaks. “We can’t…” He trails off, but I already know where this is going.
“There are rules. I know,” I say, rolling my eyes. I know being with him is complicated, but I long for the day we can be out in the open. Free to date with less restrictive rules. With just our rules.