Epilogue #3
As he continues the spanking, I focus my mind on the sound of his breathing behind me.
I try to picture him. Is he still in his suit or has he removed his shirt?
Often, during our play, Nate will punish me wearing nothing but his trousers.
He’s so hot like that, his chest bare, heaving, sweat gathering on his forehead as he works me over, his usual business-like facade broken for only me to see.
I can imagine him so clearly like that and another wave of desire hits me.
The next time he brings his belt down, I don’t cry out or jerk away. The time after that, I allow myself a low moan. By the sixth lash, I’m panting again. Every strike makes me feel like screaming red but I picture Nate’s face and I’m able to hold it in.
He subjects me to ten lashes before I hear him throw the belt down.
Before I can react, he’s standing in front of me, grasping my face in his hands and kissing me, hard, on the mouth.
I sigh in relief and uncontrollable desire.
I would have subjected myself to another ten lashes just to feel Nate’s lips on mine.
As suddenly as the kiss started, he pulls away. “You have pleased me,” he says softly, his voice low and strained, and my heart soars at the praise, at the pride in his voice.
Blood rushes back to my aching nipples as he removes the clamps and I cry out, so intense is the sensation.
He chuckles. “Easy, my love.” His lips brush against my ear and I shiver. “Someday soon, I’m going to use my belt downstairs, where everyone can see.” I can’t hold back a shudder. “Or perhaps we’ll finally introduce you to my whip. Would you like that? To be whipped in front of strangers?”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
“And did you like it tonight, being presented to the room like that, your body on display for anyone who passed?”
“Yes,” I groan.
His lips brush my ear, voice a low whisper. “I heard what that domme said to her slave, about sharing you.”
My breath catches. Since I entered this life with Nate, I’ve given myself over to him completely. He controls my body, my orgasms, my responses. He’s allowed to use me in any way he sees fit. Allowing someone else to touch me is just another way he could use me.
I’ve loved giving my body to him in that way. Loved letting him show me off earlier. But I’m not sure I could handle someone else touching me.
“Would you like that?” he asks in a tone I can’t identify.
“If you want,” I whisper, stomach twisting.
“No,” he growls. “I told myself I would consider it, if you wanted it. To please you. But I don’t think I could, angel. I think I would kill any man who touches you like this.”
I let out a little sob of pure relief. “I don’t want anyone else to touch me, sir. Not ever.”
He groans, loudly, like his control is breaking at last. “Thank God.”
I’m moaning and writhing against my restraints, needing more, needing him. Just when I’m sure I can take no more of the delicious anticipation, he enters me in one long, hard thrust. I gasp, so worked up that I know I’m close to coming already. I also know that I won’t—not until he allows it.
“I’m going to let you come soon,” he whispers, thrusting again and again. “You’re doing so well. But I want to see the look in your eyes when you break.”
Suddenly, my blindfold is removed and I gasp. The dim room feels bright and harsh after so long in the darkness. Nate is standing right in front of me, cock buried deep inside as I’m suspended from a metal bar far above.
“Look at me,” Nate demands, voice rough and needy, and I do.
I meet his gaze, taking in his blue eyes, dark and smoldering with intensity.
In that moment, everything else melts away.
The pain of a few minutes ago. The strangers downstairs who he had allowed to see my body.
None of it matters because all of it originates from the man in front of me.
He’s the center of my desire, my pleasure, my pain.
The center of everything. And he controls it all.
“Come,” he demands. I obey.
My orgasm rips through me, my entire body convulsing against my restraints. I’m crying out, a loud chant that I can’t control. “Nate! Nate!” I want to close my eyes, to ride out the wave in darkness, but I can’t. Nate’s eyes hold my gaze in his as if through supernatural force.
As I start to come down, I vaguely register the noises he’s making as he finds his own release. There’s no more beautiful sound in the world than the most controlled man I know losing control.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “So fucking good, angel.”
Everything feels hazy as he removes the restraints one at a time.
I can’t hold myself up so Nate carries me, lifting me easily and taking me to the bed.
He’s quiet for a long time as he rubs lotion into my skin and I sink in and out of consciousness, my body floating in the sweetest relief and pleasure.
“Was it too much?” he asks, jarring me from the dreamlike state.
“What? No. Of course not.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I liked it, Nate. All of it. What we did up here and downstairs.” Even after what we just did I still feel a blush come to my cheeks. “I liked being watched.”
His eyes flash, the concern momentarily eclipsed. “I liked you being watched, too. I don’t want to share you, not ever, but I do want to show you off.” He nips my ear. “I’m going to have you in front of them someday.”
I whimper in longing. Why does that sound so good to me? I don’t know, and I don’t really care, either. I’m done doubting the things we do together.
The concern is back in his eyes as he looks down at me. “I didn’t give you a chance to decompress after your time downstairs.” There’s regret in his tone and I want to banish it from this room. “It was a lot for you and I pushed you right into the next thing.”
“You paused when I asked you to,” I remind him. “I told you I was ready.”
“I just…” he shakes his head. “I’ve never felt like that before, Harper.
I was so fucking proud of you, so fucking proud that you’re mine.
All those people downstairs, admiring your beauty and your obedience.
And I’m the one who gets to be with you.
” He grins a little sheepishly. “I think I lost control for a minute there.”
I smile back. “I like it when you lose control.”
He laughs, kissing me sweetly. “It will always be this way between us,” he says against my lips. “Fun and passionate and so fucking good.”
“Sign me up.”
He lifts his head, grin growing. “Good. Because I have a present for you.” He reaches over to the bedside table and pulls a silver necklace from the drawer. As he brings it closer, I realize it isn’t just any necklace.
Nate is giving me a collar.
I know that this is a big step. Wearing a collar at Club Wyld sends a very clear message. It shows everyone that you’re giving yourself, fully and publicly, to your master. It’s a symbol of submission, of ownership. And Nate is offering it to me.
“I’ve never done this before,” he tells me, voice serious. “I’ve never wanted to. This symbolizes something important to me Harper. It’s about more than submission. It’s a commitment.” His eyes are fierce when they fix on mine. “And you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to make that commitment to.”
My throat is clogged with tears but I manage a few words. “That’s all I want.”
He tilts my head gently, and places the collar around my neck.
He stares down at me for a long moment, taking me in, sprawled naked on his bed, skin reddened from his flogger and his belt, collar around my neck.
“I’m going to need to have you again,” he groans, pressing his lips into my neck.
“I’m yours,” I tell him, tears slipping from my eyes. “I’m always yours.”
THE END