Chapter 23 #3
Her laughter was ill-timed. The moment the first blundering guffaw spilled out, she had two sets of fiery eyes on her. Kathleen, hanging over the edge of the country club balcony and promising death to anyone who came near her…
And Etta, returned from the restroom and standing not too far behind Kathleen. She crossed her arms and stared at them, displeased.
Oh, fuck. Jamie was still as a statue when Ira stepped away as if they had done nothing out of the ordinary. Oh fuck, I smell like their cologne. Sweet cologne. A far cry from the scent Etta wore. Oh fuck, I smell like another dominant. Right after mine fingered me. At my engagement party. To her.
She flashed Etta a smile and waved. Surely, nothing was wrong here.
“Hey, you gonna take your turn?” Ira called to her.
They did not win the croquet match, thanks to Jamie, whose form remained absolute shit throughout the game.
Thankfully, Ira did not offer to help her sort out her stance again, content to wipe the landscaped floor with every other player there.
I have one of the best croquet players ever on my team, and I can’t even help us win. Story of Jamie’s life.
Did not help that she kept glancing at Etta, who perched at the edge of the balcony and watched her with great interest.
She dreaded going back up there. While Kathleen spared her a single look before going back to her drink, Etta was less forgiving.
“Did you have fun down there?” No way was she amused. Not about to rip her any new holes in her body, but definitely not impressed.
“Um, well…”
Nobody paid them any mind as Etta took her by the arm and drew her closer. “I’ve got a few words to exchange with you, Ms. Joy. Care to join me inside?”
Did she have a choice?
Etta put a firm hand on the small of her back and directed her into the clubhouse. A million words sprang to Jamie’s tongue, but she bit them all back, waiting until they were in a private billiard room with the door latched behind them.
“I wasn’t flirting,” she announced, doing her best to sound confident.
Maybe if she kept her shoulders back and her voice straight, she could convince Etta that no relationship foul play was afoot.
“They offered to show me how to play better… not that it helped, as you probably saw.” She opened her bag and looked for anything to amuse herself with. Phone? Makeup?
Fiancée’s hands gripping her hips as she grinded her thighs against Jamie’s ass?
“I leave you alone for five minutes…” Etta’s voice stole her heart and attempted to abscond with it elsewhere, like a rogue plucking her off the side of the road and taking her back to a hidden camp in the woods.
What is she going to do with me there? Defile me?
A woman could hope. “And you’re already handing yourself over on a pretty purple platter to another. ”
“I didn’t… they didn’t…”
Etta covered her mouth with her hand and pushed forward. Jamie gasped into her palm, eyes closing. “I must not have done a good enough job at the table. I thought we had fun. You certainly were wet enough by the time you were through.”
This was an Etta that Jamie thought had gone into hibernation.
Possessive. Because she owns me. For six months, I had to do absolutely anything she wanted so I could get my money.
Not only did she get more money than she bargained for, but she got the girlfriend too.
Now, that woman she originally fell in love with was back – with a vengeance.
Jamie whimpered into Etta’s hand. What is she going to do to me? She was both excited... and wary. If Etta was actually angry at her, this would take a turn she didn’t want. Namely, she might be out on her ass instead of having this woman she loved pressed against it.
“Maybe you need to be reminded of who it is you’re marrying.
Don’t you know? Not any woman gets to marry me.
” Her hand jerked up Jamie’s leg, squeezing her outer thigh as an arm pushed her skirt out of the way.
“I don’t want to marry any woman. I need someone who is going to obey me when necessary.
Someone who knows that I’m her Mistress.
Now…” Etta slowly lowered her hand, “Do you understand that I’m the only one who gets to touch you – at all? ”
“Yes…” The more her dominant energy enveloped her, the needier Jamie became.
Even she didn’t know that it could be so easy to feel like this after what had happened earlier.
What did happen earlier? Etta, asserting herself all over the place.
Reawakening what made those early days of their relationship so great.
Jamie swallowed, her fiancée’s hand pushing into the bust of her dress and groping her breast. She used to pay me to do this.
In the beginning, Jamie went along with it.
For the money. In time, however, she realized how much she enjoyed and got off on Etta’s dominant tendencies.
She wanted to be the dominant woman in all areas.
In business. In social situations. In sex. It was all that mattered in her head.
“What was that?” Jamie’s skirt was up over her ass, Etta’s hand meandering between her legs as if they had something to prove. “I couldn’t hear you, my flower.”
Growls like that could be bottled up and sold as an aphrodisiac. “Yes!”
“Come over here.” Etta grabbed her arms and pulled her to the wall. She picked a spot not decorated with framed photos and maps of the globe. An otherwise nondescript wall, where a woman with something to prove could pin her fiancée and fuck her.
“Etta!”
“You will call me ma’am, thank you.” Etta tore Jamie’s underwear, eliciting a gasp of the utmost shock that this was happening so quickly. “Or Mistress. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I don’t want you to forget who I am to you.
” She laughed, filling Jamie with anticipation.
The way she easily spread Jamie’s thighs, holding her against the wall with nothing more than bare strength, was more intoxicating than the scent overwhelming Jamie.
There was a distinct scent, after all. There was the usual perfume and bodywash, mixed with the occasional end-of-the-day sweat that marked Etta as the woman that Jamie cozied up to for comfort.
Then there was the primal, almost earthy scent she exuded when she was ready to finger her against the bed, the couch, the desk, the wall.
She was nothing but that scent now. Jamie would do well to remember who she was. Now. Five minutes from now.
“I would never… ma’am.”
“Be quiet.”
Jamie clamped her mouth shut, but it fell right back open again, thanks to the sudden pleasure tearing through her as Etta rubbed two fingers against her spread slit.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must be because of me.”
Well, there was no arguing that. Between how she acted now and what she had done a while ago… how could Jamie not be prepared to take whatever Etta had to give?
Jamie held on tight as Etta spread those eager legs wider. Jamie slid down the wall a little, balancing against a skinny ridge big and strong enough to support her at that angle. This is seriously happening. Etta’s going to devour me at our party. All over a game of croquet!
“All of this,” Etta declared, hands touching whatever they could and breath so hot against Jamie’s chest that she almost came right there. “This is mine. I wouldn’t marry a woman who wasn’t all mine, heart and body.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jamie wanted it. She wanted Etta inside her, now, proving how much she belonged to her. “It’s all yours.”
“I can take what I want, right?”
“Yes!”
Etta teased her, pushing her fingers into her enough to show what kind of power she had. “Tell me you want it. Beg for it.”
Not a hard command to obey.
“Please!” Jamie squirmed against Etta, almost losing purchase on the wall and falling straight to the floor. “Please, do it. Make me yours. I need you inside me, ma’am.”
“Can’t you do better than that?”
Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and imagined being at home, Etta slamming her against their bed, her raw power so all-encompassing that she blacked out in the best ways.
Pulling her hair. Spanking her. Speaking the filthiest language she had ever unleashed.
There it goes… If Jamie didn’t believe her about being wet before, she definitely did now, since every inch of her skin down there craved attention.
She let whatever words flow from her lips.
“Fuck me, Mistress.”
As usual, she got more than she expected.
One second, she was full of great need, a longing that tested her ability to stand her mere existence. Then the next? Jamie had exactly what she wanted – the woman she belonged to, the woman she adored, and the woman she craved filling her.
There was nothing romantic about what Etta did to her, but they didn’t need romance.
They needed the heavy passion culminating between them – the sheer force they both possessed and were willing to give one another at any moment.
Etta wanted to lay her claim to her one more time; Jamie wanted the reminder that she was the eternal prize.
No other woman could fuck her like this.
Every thrust told her what she was. Who she was.
She wasn’t just a convenient woman for Etta to use whenever she felt like…
a feeling Jamie often had early on in their relationship.
No, she was the love of Etta’s life. Her woman.
Her fiancée. Someday soon, she would be Etta’s wife, and these sorts of days would continue with new fervor.
Even Jamie sensed it now. This is what it means to give myself to her.
She wanted to be used like this. She wanted to feel her legs go numb and her core cry out in sweet agony.
Heaven forbid Etta be gentle with it. Not that Jamie wanted her to be.