15
Time slows, and it’s just the two of us, joined forever. Until eventually Nick slowly pulls out of me and stands upright. All of me immediately feels his absence. Even though he reaches over for one of the extraordinarily expensive dinner napkins and begins to mop up the cum running down my thighs.
“If you run off now to your sex therapist, I will never speak to you again,” I announce, pushing myself up on my elbows. I might, just maybe, occasionally, use humor to cover up my vulnerabilities with the people I trust.
Nick stares at me dumbfounded, and then I see awareness catch in his gaze. He gets me, I think. Something that I love but that also makes me nervous. The people that truly get you are the ones that can deliver the most painful blows because they know right where to hit. He slides the top of my dress back up, fastening it behind my neck before he speaks. “My mouse, I will put you in charge of all my appointments. But I expect I will be far too busy fucking my insatiable and very young wife to make it across town for anything else.”
Grinning with delight at being basically described as a trophy wife, I accept his hand down from the table and discover my legs are still shaking. Nick frowns and scoops me up, depositing me on the sofa in the formal living room. “Did I hurt you, Candace?” He’s all concern as his fingers probe me gently.
I shake my head with a soft smile. “No, I’m fine. More than fine. Will you take me back to your big bed now? I want you to hold me close.” I push myself up just to prove to him I can walk. I’m truly okay, just exhausted from the travel and the flood of sensation that came from finally having Nick plumb the depths of my body.
He doesn’t look convinced, but we lock up and head back downstairs. I pause in mid-step and Nick takes my arm in concern. “Nick!” I whisper shout. The streets are never truly empty in New York. “We can’t leave things like that. Who’s going to clean it up? What will they think?” I’m blushing at the thought of someone finding that napkin that Nick probably left on top of the table.
He just looks amused. “Little innocent mouse…” I wait, my eyebrows raised for him to educate me on the debauched ways of the rich and famous. Clearly, he thinks better of that. “Fine, we’ll come back tomorrow and clean up the incriminating evidence ourselves.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief and continue on our path back to the car.
Early the next morning I’m once again draped over Nick’s broad body, only this time it’s in his huge bed, custom-built for his frame (or possibly a soccer team) so I have plenty of room to spread out. It’s only his firm hand anchoring my lower back that serves as a gravitational center.
Happy doesn’t even begin to describe my emotions. My pussy is still thrumming with satisfaction even though small aches are starting to manifest as my body takes inventory of the previous evening. It’s still dark out although it’s technically morning. I don’t want to get up and break the magic spell. What if Nick regrets any of that? What if I only imagined his gentleness in dressing me and bringing me back here last night? Maybe he was just feeling sorry for me?
A rumble in his chest alerts me that he’s reading my thoughts again. I can’t see his eyes in the dark, but his tone says it all when he finally speaks, “Little mouse, you had better not be thinking of running away without me again.”
“Nooo, but I was wondering if I just imagined the happy ending,” I mumble into his skin.
“Is that what you call this?” He sounds amused and his hands start exploring with confidence, making me gasp and wriggle as he unerring finds the spots that seem to be connected to the most nerve endings at once.
“Maybe you were just being kind?”
He chuckles and, like lightning, flips me under him, his thick cock prodding at my tender pussy. “Yes, that’s it, little mouse. You will want to do everything I ask and then some, bake me cakes and give me foot massages so that every now and then I might be kind to you again.”
I roll my eyes in response to his sarcasm but try to tug at his hips because I want that fullness in me again. He pulls my hands gently away. “No, little mouse. There’s no way I’ll believe you if you tell me you aren’t sore. Remember what will happen if you lie to me?”
“Umm. I promised I wouldn’t, but I don’t recall what the punishment was. Am I still calling you Mr. Savage?” I ask cheekily.
He growls as he leans down to nuzzle the side of my neck. He bites down gently on my earlobe, making my legs scissor instinctively. “Brat. No, we will save the more formal address for the dining table. That dining table. As for any punishments, I suppose you will have to live with the anticipation. Maybe that will ensure your good behavior.” He taps my hip gently before moving off of me and turning on the light next to the bed.
I blink my eyes slowly to adjust to the semi-brightness and then cast my gaze over his magnificently nude body. And lick my lips. Nick tugs me back on top of him.
“I have a deal to propose to you, my shy little mouse,” he finally says after a few minutes of quiet.
I peer up at him, wondering where this is going now. Didn’t we settle most everything?
“We can go back to Kansas in a few weeks on two conditions. We ship that dining room table and continue our revised tradition of Sunday dinner every week… and you lean out that window and shout as loud as you can, ‘Oh my God, he really is the beast of New York.’”
Oh really. I lift my chin in defiance. He’s laughing because he thinks I won’t do it, that I’m too shy to make a public spectacle of myself.
“Okay.” I hop off him and the bed and head towards the nearest window, which fronts 5th Ave.