25. Dane
25
DANE
“ I t’s time to wake up, my sleeping beauty.” I brush a stray lock of dark, silken hair back from her cheek. “We need to get ready soon.”
A soft smile curves her lips, and she snuggles into me. A warm glow suffuses my chest, and I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her willowy frame in a possessive embrace.
Abigail has been my sweet pet for a week now, and she’s only left my bed when we’ve both been forced to go to work. We stopped by her apartment once to pick up some clothes, but otherwise, she’s stayed with me.
Today, she’ll let me dress her up in an outfit of my choosing. I’m anticipating some resistance, but she will comply. It’s past time that she accepts my money. I intend to spend it on her, and I won’t tolerate further defiance.
She’s accompanying me to my colleague’s wedding this afternoon, and she will wear the designer dress I’ve chosen for her. She would be the most stunning guest in attendance even in one of her paint-spattered camisoles, but I’m proud to show her off in expensive clothing. I want everyone to see how I care for my woman.
“As much as I’d like to keep you in my bed all day, we have plans, pet.” I drop a doting kiss on her forehead, and she releases a happy sigh that I’m coming to find just as addictive as her laugh.
“Don’t worry,” she reassures me. “I’ll be ready on time.”
She stretches, and her delicious body arches against me.
I grip her hips and roll atop her with a soft growl. “Are you trying to tempt me, pet?”
She flushes the prettiest shade of pink and giggles. “Do you want me to?”
I brush my thumb over her smirking lips. “This mouth. How many times will I need to fuck you here to tame that sassy tongue?”
“At least once more,” she says breathily, her pupils dilating with desire.
I groan and roll off of her. “What kind of master would I be if I give in to your tempting games?” I tap my forefinger to her nose in light reprimand. “Naughty little thing.”
She snaps her teeth at me playfully, then laughs. The sound is pure delight, and it soars through me like the most exquisite song I’ve ever heard.
“Your pet bites,” she warns, that little smirk still fixed in place.
Something dark stirs inside me. We’ve played twisted games all week, but this is the closest we’ve danced to the kind of dubious consent fantasies she used to exchange with GentAnon.
I climb out of bed and cock my head at her, considering her fate.
“I have a gag that would suit you nicely,” I remark. “But I doubt you’d like to wear that to the wedding.”
Her lips pop open in shock. “You wouldn’t.”
“Test me and find out.” I don’t bother to hide the dangerous threat from my cold tone.
In truth, I’d never allow anyone to see Abigail like that. Her subjugation is for my eyes only. But the little fearful tremor that races over her is absolutely delicious. I won’t reassure her when she looks so beautifully frightened, those aqua eyes wide and glittering like gemstones.
“Go on,” I prompt. “Take a shower. I’ll make coffee.”
She blushes and drops her gaze in submission. I’m almost disappointed when she obeys me, but I remind myself that we can’t be late to Meadows’ wedding. I might not feel friendship in the way most people do, but he’s a good colleague, and the practice that we’re building together here in Charleston is important to me.
Abigail sees this city as home, so it’s time for me to put down roots here too.
I’m not going anywhere.
An hour and a half later, Abigail is wearing one of my oversized white bathrobes while she sips at the coffee that I made for her. She’s just finished her makeup except for her lip gloss, which she said she doesn’t want to smudge. Her hair is fully dry and naturally wavy, but she intends to perfect the loose curls before we leave at noon.
As promised, she’s perfectly punctual—a quality I admire.
She might be a bit haphazard when it comes to tidying her living space, but she’s respectful enough of my time that she won’t make us late.
“I’ll need to stop by my place to pick up my dress,” she says. “Just let me finish my hair, and we can go.”
Her eyes rove over me, taking in my tuxedo. The wedding takes place later this afternoon, and the invitation said black tie attire. Meadows’ family is old money, so I’m not surprised at the dress code.
“I bought a dress for you to wear,” I say. “We have some time to relax before we need to drive to the venue.”
Her guard goes up immediately, her eyes shuttering and her mouth firming to a thin line.
“I have a nice dress,” she replies defensively. “I won’t embarrass you, Dane.”
“You could never embarrass me,” I assure her. “But I want to buy beautiful things for you. You are going to let me.”
Her brows arch. “Am I? When did I agree to that?”
“When you signed the contract that says I’m responsible for your well-being.” I let my tone drop lower in warning.
She straightens her shoulders. “There’s a difference between my well-being and buying me expensive things that I don’t need.”
“This isn’t about what you need,” I counter. “It’s about what I want. And I want to see you wearing the dress I bought for you.”
Her posture goes rigid. “How can you make a gift sound so unbearably selfish? No, thank you.”
“When did I ever give you the impression that I’m not selfish?” I drawl. “I’ve shown you exactly who I am. You chose me. You gave yourself to me. Would you prefer I pretended to be a soft, kind gentleman? No,” I continue before she can open her mouth to respond. “You like me the way I am, and that means you’ll do as I say.”
Her eyes flash. “I don’t think so.”
Fuck.
I’ve let myself get too comfortable around her. My mask has been off for too long, and now, she’s seeing a side of me that makes her angry when I’d intended to make her melt.
“Surrendering control when it comes to sex is one thing,” she seethes. “I won’t allow you to use your money to control me, Dane. I thought I made that clear on our very first date. Maybe you’re the one who hasn’t been paying attention to who I am.”
My anger rises to match hers, but it’s directed at her past abuser, not her. Whoever hurt her is responsible for this argument, not me.
I try for a placating tone that doesn’t come naturally at all. Instead, my voice comes out gravelly. “Are you going to tell me who did this to you?” I challenge. “Why are you so scared of accepting my money?”
Her eyes cut away from mine, but her back remains ramrod straight. “Don’t change the subject. You’re being controlling, Dane. I don’t like it.”
I pause and consider my next words carefully. I am controlling, but I can’t let the darkest parts of me scare her away. She’s mine, but I want her. Not a mindless, spineless little plaything.
“I’m sorry.” The words feel strange on my tongue, the shape unfamiliar. “I’m not explaining myself well because I’m angry at whoever hurt you.” That much is true. “I don’t want you to reject gifts from me because of some bastard’s cruelty. I want to take care of you, and that includes providing for you. It’s not about stripping you of your pride or forcing you to do something you don’t want to do. Yes, I’m selfish, and I want you to wear the pretty things I buy for you. But never because you feel coerced or guilted into it.”
I’m not above manipulation to get what I want, but I can hear the truth in my own words. I want Abigail to accept me and that includes accepting my gifts. I want her to trust that they won’t come with strings attached. I want her to trust in me. In us.
Her eyes search mine, and after a terrible, tense moment, she relaxes on a sigh.
“It wasn’t a man who hurt me,” she admits. “It’s my family. They wield money like a weapon. It took me years to understand it, and it’s been incredibly hard to walk away from their financial control. When I dropped out of college, they threatened to cut me off if I didn’t go back to my classes. So, I cut myself off before they could follow through. I got my barista job and started selling my paintings at the market. I’ve learned to survive on my own, and I’ve built a good life for myself. I’m not a famous artist with my own gallery, but I’m happy with my life the way it is.”
I touch two fingers beneath her chin, and she doesn’t flinch away. “Are you happy?” I challenge quietly. “Would it be so terrible to accept gifts from me? I will never ask for anything in return. I swear. Trust me.”
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and she hesitates.
“I left my family’s wealth and expectations behind too,” I remind her. “I’ve worked hard so that I can live comfortably without their support. Let me support you now. I can’t think of a better way to spend what I’ve earned.”
“I can’t rely on you for everything,” she counters, but I can sense that she’s softening.
Our shared disdain for our families is a bond we share, and even though I’m exposing my own vulnerability, I will leverage this to my advantage.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” I say. “It’s one of the reasons I admire you so much. You’re tenacious and determined.”
She offers me a shaky laugh. “That’s a nice way of saying I’m stubborn.”
My lips twist in a half-smile of my own. “I didn’t say that.”
She sighs again and shakes her head, capitulating. “Okay,” she allows. “I’ll wear the dress you bought for me.” Her chin lifts. “I’m not going to let my past get in the way of our relationship. That’s all behind me now, and I won’t allow my family to control me anymore. I definitely won’t let them be the cause of an argument between us.”
I brush a kiss over her forehead. “That’s my stubborn pet,” I praise.
She laughs again, a sound of forgiveness. “It’s only okay when I say it.”
“It’s a compliment,” I assure her. “I meant it when I said I want all of you. Your sweetness and your stubbornness. I want everything.”
She sways toward me. “You have me,” she promises. “I want all of you too.”
“Done.” I seal my vow with a kiss, proving to her that I will honor the gift of her trust.
Our kiss deepens, and her breath quickens in between strokes of my tongue against hers. I tug the tie on her robe, and it falls open. She’s only wearing a tiny scrap of white lace that barely covers her pussy.
My possessiveness surges, a carnal, primal hunger that overwhelms rational thought. I fist the delicate panties in both hands and tear them off her, revealing my pretty, pink cunt. This is all mine.
I grind my fingers against her clit, and I find that she’s already wet for me. She cries out into my mouth, and I force a quick, brutal orgasm from her. Already, I know the exact way to touch her to make her come undone.
Her fingers bite into my upper arms, clinging to me as she greedily takes all of the pleasure I coax from her perfect body.
She whimpers, a pitiful plea for mercy that only enhances my cruel desire. Her clit is oversensitive from the ruthless treatment, but I’m not done with her yet.
I push two fingers into her tight sheath and stimulate her in the way she likes best. At the same time, I circle her clit with my thumb. My other hand tweaks her nipples, drawing out her pleasure with a fresh bite of pain.
My perverted pet moans and shakes, and she starts to grind herself against my palm.
As suddenly as I began, I withdraw, leaving her on the edge of release.
She lets out a delightful sound that’s somewhere between an indignant shriek and a cry of loss.
I keep her locked in my cruel gaze as I lift her ruined panties to my face and inhale the scent of her arousal.
My cock is almost painfully hard, but we don’t have time for me to use her to slake my lust. If I’m going to be denied, so will she. We’ll both suffer through this wedding, but she’ll be desperate for me by the end of the night. Her submission is so much sweeter when she’s needy and begging for my merciful touch.
Her soft lips form a tempting O shape as she watches me shove the panties into my pocket. I’ll keep my trophy close, and we’ll both know what I’m thinking about every time I casually slip my hand into my pocket during the wedding.
I trace her lips with my tongue and claim one more kiss before I spin her around and deliver a sharp slap to her ass.
“Get ready, pet. You’ll get your reward later.”
Her indignant huff is entirely ruined by her flushed cheeks. My mocking laugh draws a light shiver from her, and I’m completely enamored with her responses to me.
We had our first disagreement, but I managed to soothe her without too much fuss. Abigail will wear the dress I bought for her, and we’ll never have the same argument about money again. My sweet pet will let me take care of her, just as I’ve always wanted.
I’m a selfish bastard, and she still wants me.
You have me. Her promise rings through my mind. I want all of you too.
I’m so savagely pleased at her submission to my will that I don’t stop to think how much I’ve surrendered to her in return.