Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sloane
Oliver takes one step in the door. Two steps.
Three steps and then the lights come on, illuminating everything.
I stand and look at him in the center of my paradise, his golden hair catching the light like a halo.
His pale blue shirt stands out amidst the dark teal and black.
I carefully saunter over to him, circling him as I let him take it all in.
The St. Andrew’s Cross. The stocks. The massage table.
The four poster bed with built in restraints.
The breeding bench. He walks over to the wall, where my whips, canes, and spreaders hang amidst the restraints.
His fingers deftly reach out and trail along the leather of my teal cat-o-nine tails.
Then they trail over to the long, shimmering, teal satin ribbons.
He picks it up and it slips off the hook effortlessly.
“Say something,” I say, my voice shaking only minimally.
“This is—”
I bite my lip waiting for the rejection.
Too much. Perverted. Disgusting. Fucked up.
He turns around, and I watch him fidget with the ribbon in his hands. He saunters over to the bed, reaching one hand out to pull on the open restraints at the headboard.
“Like something out of my wildest dreams,” he sighs.
The relief that floods my system is damn near palpable.
“Oh thank fuck,” I breathe.
He turns to raise an eyebrow at me.
“Do you, uh… bring a lot of people here?” he asks with concern.
I shake my head as I approach him at the side of the bed.
“No, Oliver.” I hold his gaze with my vulnerable one.
I reach for the ribbon in his hand, and he lets me take it from him.
I carefully roll his sleeves up to his elbows and then skillfully bunch his wrists together in front of him.
I feel his gaze on me like a fire as I work diligently, slowly to tie the ribbon around his wrists.
“Are you good?” I whisper as I tie the bow delicately, yet loose enough he can slip out if he wants.
Oliver steps forward and slides his bound arms around my neck, pulling me closer. His fingers tease the edges of my hair as I settle my hands on his hips.
“Yes, Sir,” he breathes, his voice full of awe, and dare I say love?
I lean my forehead against his, the truth lodged in my throat.
“I have something I need to tell you," he says, his voice barely a whisper.
I gaze down at him, at this perfect specimen of a man.
The words fall out of my mouth without warning.
“I love you.”
The words echo in the space between us as he gasps, and I hear the faintest whimper.
“Sloane…”
I grab his throat and press my thumb against the column and crush my lips to his.
“You do not have to say anything,” I whisper as I kiss him. “I just… needed you to know.”
He kisses me back, and the world falls away. The room spins as desire melds with something new, something beautiful and raw.
Oliver writes his endearments on my tongue, and I hurriedly move to undress him.
I unbutton every button on his shirt, exposing his trim, pale chest. My hands work to shove his pants and his briefs to the floor.
I push him to the bed as I pull off his shoes and pants, and he shifts his hips to help me get them off. I look up at him.
“You good?”
His eyes fill with tears as he nods, his lips turning up in the corner.
“So fucking good, Sir.”
I take my time undressing myself, if only because of how he watches me. I want this to be enjoyable for him. Every blessed second.
Because Oliver Green deserves every good thing there is, that I can give.
And the most valuable thing I have to give him is me.
I approach him carefully, gingerly getting onto the bed.
My fingers trail over his ankles. “Do you want these bound, too?” He sucks in a breath. “Or would you prefer them spread?”
Oliver licks his lips, then shakes his head.
“Neither," he says, his eyes full of lust and desire.
“Tell me what you want, Oliver,” I whisper.
He scoots to the middle of the bed, giving me room to get closer to him.
He holds my gaze as he raises his arms, placing his bound wrists above his head.
I crawl over him, my cock already throbbing with need at just the sight of him like this.
Those big green eyes gaze up at me like I am everything.
No one’s ever looked at me like this before, and it strikes me in my chest like lightning.
I press my body against him, his cock sliding against my stomach, leaving sticky, wet trails of precum.
My heart is in my damn throat, because I’m acutely aware of what he wants.
I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he’s absentmindedly thrusting against me, but I need to hear him say it. For my sake and for his.
I kiss him softly. “Tell me what you want, darling, and I will give it to you.” I kiss the side of his mouth. “Because you deserve it.” I trail a kiss down to his neck. “You deserve everything you want.”
Oliver lets out a moan that goes straight to my cock as his legs pull up, his feet going flat on the silk sheets.
“You,” he says, his breath husky and thick. “Sloane, I want you.”
The weight of those words is heavy in the air between us, drenched with promise and ruin.
“Are you sure?” I ask, finding his lips once more.
Oliver thrusts his wet, hard cock against me with a grunt.
“Yes, Sir,” he breathes. “I’m sure.”
I find his mouth and kiss him hard before I let go.
“Your wish is my command, Sir.”
I slowly amble off the bed and head for the nightstand. My heart races like a damn horse as I carefully open my drawer and take out my bottle of lube and two condoms.
All that can be heard is the sound of his labored breath.
“No condoms,” he breathes.
I turn to look at him, my eyebrows furrowed.
“My records are clean,” he says. “Don’t believe me, check my file.”
I know he isn’t lying, because I did see his file when I’d looked it up that first day—I’d gone over everything, so intrigued, and didn’t think too much of it, other than the man looked to be quite healthy with no pre-existing conditions or anything concerning.
“I know,” I say, holding his gaze. “As am I. Which I can show you if you like, but I did not want to assume—”
“I trust you,” Oliver says, his gaze glistening under the low light. “I trust you, Sloane.” The words are thick and feel like he’s trying to say something else, but trust is what he lands on.
I set the condoms down and swallow nervously.
I have only ever not used condoms once, when I was drunk.
I’d panicked after, and nearly had a heart attack waiting for my test results, and when they came in with a clean bill of health, I swore I would never go without them again.
Not unless I found someone I truly loved, which felt like a fairytale itself.
I know that doing this with Oliver will change things. I’m terrified of that.
But I also can’t shake the feeling that this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.
He is exactly the man I’ve been waiting for all my life, and I’m not going to waste another second feeling scared. Because when I look at him, I feel like I can do anything. I feel invincible.
I squirt some lube onto my fingers and rub it to warm it before I settle between his thighs and set the lube next to me on the sheets, knowing I’ll need more soon enough. I want this to feel good for him. No, not want, need. I need him to enjoy this as much as I know I’m going to.
Carefully, I caress his hole, massaging the tight skin as his body instantly tenses.
“Relax, little Rabbit,” I tell him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Oliver’s eyes glaze over a bit and that wicked little smirk comes back to life.
“What if I want you to hurt me?” he asks petulantly.
I chuckle as I pass my finger over his hole again, slowly dipping the edge of inside and he tenses, but pushes against me barely a second later.
He’s eager, and I can’t help that the sight of him like this—bound on my bed in my playroom trying to take as much of my damn finger as he can—isn’t arousing as fuck.
But it’s more than that, too.
The teal ribbon against his soft, pale skin.
His pink, kiss-swollen lips.
His thick, purple cockhead glistening with precum as it bounces freely.
He’s so fucking beautiful. And he’s mine.
All mine.
I slide my finger in swiftly and he gasps, his body clenching my finger.
I curl it inside and his eyes fall shut, his mouth forming a little o as he moans loudly.
I settle my thumb beneath his opening, stroking his outer rim and spreading the lubricant there as I start to build a steady rhythm. In. Out. In. Out.
“Sloane…” he cries. “Not yet.”
I chuckle. “Oh, darling, if you want to come, come. You don’t have to wait.”
“But I want—” He gasps. “I want to feel you.” His voice is strained. “I want to come with you inside me, not your fucking finger.”
I groan, his petulant words like a balm to my skin.
“Don’t pout, Oliver.” I slide a second finger inside of him and he cries out, cursing. His dick bounces as he thrusts his hips upward, as he tries to fuck himself on my fingers.
“Please,” he gasps.
I lean down to his ear and whisper softly. “Are you good?”
Oliver nods feverishly.
“Yes, yes, I’m good. Just fuck me, please…”
I take his mouth with mine.
“You are so pretty when you beg,” I whisper.
I scissor my fingers a little more and he groans.
“Do you think you’re ready?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. He kisses me, hard.
“I’m ready," he says, his voice solid and unwavering.
I remove my fingers and gaze at him. His eyes find mine.
“On your back or on your knees?” I ask, my heart racing a million miles a minute. My cock throbs with need, but I don’t dare touch myself. I can’t.
I need to save it all for him.
I want to savor every moment because I know I’ll never live it again.
Oliver’s gaze holds mine.
“You decide, Sir," he says, biting his lip.
My lips curl up in the corners as I nudge his legs apart. They fall like dominoes to the bed.
I take my time as I pour the lube onto my cock, holding his gaze as I slather my shaft with it. The touch is almost too much and I don’t prolong it. I do it only enough to make sure I’m wet enough it won’t hurt him.
Leaning over top of him, I position my cock at his entrance, my gaze finding his like a magnet. With one hand, I carefully guide myself against his hole, and press in just the slightest. Oliver’s eyes close and his body tenses, his breath hard and short.
“You good?” I ask, my breath heavy. I want to move, but I make myself stay as still as possible, waiting for his cue.
He lets out a heavy breath.
“Yes, Sir," he says, steadying his breath. “Keep going.”
I push in a little more, and he groans, and then I feel his legs wrap around me. His heels dig into my ass and he pushes me forward, the motion driving me past his tight resistance until I slide into the hilt with ease.
For a minute we are still as statues. All that can be heard is our heavy breath.
“Oh my God, Sloane…” He moans, the sound heavenly. “You feel so good.”
I find his lips with mine as one hand finds his bound wrists and I hold them tightly.
“Keep those legs where they are, little Rabbit,” I whisper. “Hold onto me.”
“Yes, Sir," he says as I devour his mouth and thrust into him. Hard.
The bed shakes and the restraints rattle against the iron.
I thrust into him again. Hard and fast. Oliver’s hips meet my thrusts in tandem. I lose myself in his mouth, in the feel of him clenching my cock like a vise. I lose myself in his moans, in the faint scent of sweat permeating from our colliding bodies.
His legs tighten around me as I disappear and then he wraps his bound arms around my neck and with one hard movement, he turns us over.
The shock must register on my face as the air rushes out of me and Oliver wriggles on top of me, situating himself on my cock.
I let out a deep growl as my body becomes flush with his, as I go as deep as I can go.
Oliver’s fingers curl against my neck, still trapped in their ribbon.
His hips move of their own accord and I am breathless.
“Are you good?” he whispers against my lips. There is an innocence in his voice; a curiosity that is so pure and sweet I wish I could drown in it.
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. “Absolutely perfect.”
Oliver’s hips start to move erratically, and I know he is close. My balls draw tight and I won’t be long off, either.
“Come for me,” I order as I grab his cock. I stroke him in tandem to his thrusts.
Oliver shakes his head. “Make me.”
I sit up and grab his ass, upending him with a soft thud onto his back and kiss him as I chase our pleasure.
Oliver comes with my name on his tongue as I fill him, disappearing into his code until I am nothing.
Nothing but his.
When I slip out of him, I feel a deep contentment. Exhaustion hits as I curl closer to him, my fingers deftly releasing his ribbon.
With his hands free, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. I lay my head on his soft, pale chest and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, syncopating with my own as one.