Chapter 32 #2
The silence presses in, the weight of it crushing me. The spoon clinks against the mug as he stirs. He places the hot drink in front of me and leans back against the counter, sipping from his own mug, his eyes downcast at the floor.
I clear my throat, needing to steel myself for being the first to speak, but I owe him this. “I’m so sorry I ran last night. I know I hurt you a lot. You've never done anything for me to question you or doubt my trust in you…” I trail off, not sure how to even carry on.
James stands there, still sipping his coffee, looking down at the floor. My heart pounds as I use every ounce of courage and grit I have to continue talking. His lack of response or even eye contact feels like an icy wall between us.
“I freaked out. I'm sorry. I'm far from perfect, and my default setting is to push people away so they don't get close enough to realise I'm not good enough for them, that I'm damaged goods. I should have stayed and talked it out with you.”
I watch his face, waiting for his response, but he still stands there looking down, his cup half-empty, his eyes still not meeting mine.
My heart silently breaks as I realise I’ve lost him. I pushed him away, and he isn't going to fight for me, and why should he? I hurt him, I didn’t trust him, and I bolted
Yes, Miss
when he was at his most vulnerable and trusting. I’m a total piece of shit.
I’m wasting my time. He doesn’t want me. I’ve hurt him too much to come back from this. I need to leave. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to me.
The tension in the room thickens with the increasing silence.
“I just came to say that. I'm sorry. I’ll leave now and let you have some peace.
I understand if this is the end of us. I won't make things awkward at work…” My voice is thick as the lump in my throat threatens to choke me.
I turn to walk out of the kitchen, my heart breaking at not being able to touch him, to kiss him again, to hear his heart beating as I lay my head on his chest to go to sleep.
And I’ve only just come to realise it’s my favourite sound in the world.
As I reach the kitchen doorway, I feel a strong hand around my wrist pulling me back, my heart thudding in my chest. He backs me against the kitchen door, his chest pressed against mine, his eyes blazing with anger but also something deeper—pain or anguish.
His breathing is ragged, arms braced either side of me as he lowers his head until his lips are mere millimetres away from my own.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
“You’re not fucking leaving again. You will never run away from me again. Do you understand? You don't get to run every time shit gets difficult. We talk. We work it out. Together. Do you understand?”
The roughness in his voice tugs at me. I nod, unable to speak a word at this change in him.
His hand comes up to stroke my cheek as he leans in, his lips brushing mine.
“Tell me you understand, Isabelle, because I can't do last night again. You fucking broke me in two, heart and soul. I thought I had lost you before we even really got going.” His warm breath fans across my lips.
I push forward to kiss him, but he steps back, leaving me adrift, feeling like I am untethered and about to fall off a cliff.
“Tell me you understand, Isabelle. Use your words. I need to hear them.” His eyes bore into mine, waiting for my response. His breathing shudders, his arms crossed against his broad chest. He looks so keyed up and on edge, waiting to pounce.
“I understand,” I whisper.
“What do you understand?”
“We talk about stuff, and we work things out together. No more running. I promise.” I sound so very small saying it, but in all honesty, I feel it. I feel so small and insignificant.
Yes, Miss
I have caused so much hurt from my own fear and insecurity, and now I am here, begging for forgiveness.
“Do you trust me, Isabelle? Honestly?” He steps closer again, his voice softer now, how I have always heard him and have grown to love. The gentle cadence of his voice is like a deep, soothing lullaby. I know deep down I would trust James implicitly with my very life.
“Yes, I do. Absolutely.”
His eyes close, and his forehead rests against mine. The softness of his chest warms me, his thundering heart palpable against mine.
He takes my face in his hands, tilting my head to look him straight in his eyes. The sunlight streaming through the windows highlights the amber flecks in his eyes.
"Iz, I want you to use green, amber, red. Yes?"
"Yes." My voice shakes with nerves. His body presses against mine as we breathe together, his fingertips running down my arms slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His fingers wrap gently around my wrists as he leans in, pinning me in place, his words dancing over my parted lips.
"Spread those legs for me, my queen." He presses his lips to mine in a fierce, passionate kiss. The heat of it makes me melt against the door. His kiss is possessive but
Alexandra Ravensbrook
tender all at once. As I part my legs, I can feel myself get wetter, the anticipation of his touch burning inside me.
His lips trail down my neck, hovering over my pulse point, sucking gently and nipping at my throat. Heat flushes throughout my body, nerves starting to build, making me stiffen. His hands tighten around my wrists. "Colour?" he whispers, continuing his kisses.
"Green," I moan, lost in his touch, reminding myself I will trust James to stop if I need him to.
"Good girl." He drops kisses to my collarbones, gentle bites peppered against my chest. His hard cock presses into my thigh as he starts to grind into me. His thigh presses against my clit, making me clench tighter. "Iz, I thought I lost you," he murmurs. "Don't fucking do that again."
"I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t." My breathing becomes shallower. Regret courses through me at seeing the pain I caused him.
His head stills against my breast for a moment as he lets out a sigh. He stands up straight, his gaze fixed on mine, and pulls the thick scrunchie out of my hair, leaving it to tumble over my shoulders.
"I’m going to tie your hands behind your back using this. I’ll leave it loose enough for you to slip out of, so you’re not fully restrained. You can stop this at any time.
Yes, Miss
But I want to fuck you hard. I want to take what’s mine again. I want to claim that perfect wet pussy and make you scream my name just so you know who you belong to. Because, Isabelle, I’m all yours for as long as you want me and forever after that. But I need to know you’re mine."
He spins me away from the door and onto the stairs, pushing me forward until my knees hit the plush carpeted steps. My stomach lurches in anticipation, my heart racing at the gruffness in his voice, how his tone cuts right through me, so very him, yet a whole new man I haven’t met before.
"Colour," he growls.
The anxiety and fears come flooding back as I scrunch my eyes closed and my breaths leave in short, sharp gasps.
My thighs clench closed, flashbacks coming thick and fast no matter how I try to push past them.
But I want to do this for him. I want to do this for myself.
I need to. I can’t let my past haunt my future anymore.
"What colour, Isabelle? Tell me!" he insists.
"Amber," I cry out, my mind desperate to flee but my heart wanting to work this out and confront my fears.
His hands soften their grip as they start to stroke down my arms again. "I’m here, Iz. It’s me. Breathe for me." His voice is soft and soothing, the timbre grounding me back in the moment.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
My breaths start to slow, and I focus on the warmth of his hands, the calming tone of his voice, and I feel my muscles relax.
I can do this. I need to remember I’m not eighteen again and that this is James, not Matt.
James will make this feel good. He will care for me.
I know that. The knot in my stomach begins to unfurl, his fingers still stroking soothing lines up my arms.
"Colour, Isabelle?" he asks softly now.
I take a few more shaky deep breaths. "Green." My voice is a raspy whisper, my body softening and becoming more pliant.
He pulls my hands behind my back and ties the hair tie around my wrists. "Try it," he orders, his tone firm but soft. "Is that okay?"
I pull my wrists apart. There’s room to wriggle out of the scrunchie, but I don’t want to.
I want to give James this. I want to find this side of me.
My cheek presses to the stair tread, the rough fibres of the carpet brushing against my cheek.
From the corner of my vision, I see James taking his sweatpants off, his length hard and thick between his legs.
My leggings stretch tight over my rear, suddenly becoming much tighter as I hear the fabric start to rip, causing me to gasp. The bastard! I loved these leggings! But something primal stirs in me from his actions.
Yes, Miss
Seeing him stalk me like I’m some caged animal and he’s my predator, being torn into, ready to be devoured, causes a warm tension to build low down as I clench my pussy tight, becoming more turned on at the thought of James like this.
My king taking what’s his. And I’m his. I know that more than ever now.
His hands roam up my ass cheeks and up my back as he pushes his hard length against my pussy. His knees push my thighs apart, leaving me fully exposed, dripping with arousal for him. My breathing turns short and shallow, the need to feel him inside me becoming excruciating.
“Look at you all spread out like that for me. I can see your pussy glistening. This turns you on, doesn’t it?
Are you going to be my slutty queen tonight, begging for more?
Hmm?” His voice purrs, almost mocking, making me squirm, rocking my hips against his crotch, seeking friction and pressure, searching for something to help me find my release.
“I’m going to fuck this greedy wet pussy so fucking hard,” he growls, rubbing the head of his cock over my pussy and clit.
The sensation is deliciously slow and teases me closer to the edge.
“I want you to feel it tomorrow; let it remind you that you submitted to me this time. My queen on her knees for her king. Ready to serve me, however I demand.”
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Oh shit. Who is he? Hearing him talk like this is so hot— the disdain, the languid way those words drip from his mouth. I love speaking like this to a sub, but I never thought I’d like it being said to me.
His hands grip my ass cheeks and spread me apart, his fingertips digging into my soft flesh, the tip of his cock pressing at my entrance. He enters slowly, just the first couple of inches, and leans forward, his chest against my back, his mouth by my ear.
His warm breath plays across my neck as his fingers delve into my hair, gripping a handful and yanking my head back, arching my throat. I gasp and let out a low moan. I’d do anything he asks right now; I just need him to fuck me and fuck me hard.
“You fucking love this, don’t you? Scared you couldn’t give me this, but look at you now, dripping wet and moaning for me already, and I’ve not even started fucking you yet.” He pulls out until just his tip is inside me, and I brace myself, ready for him to thrust.
He pushes his cock in slowly, inch by delicious inch, torturing me, rolling his hips as he bottoms out, getting deeper than I ever thought he could. I let out a long moan, desperate for him to go faster, my pleasure building.
“Please, James. Harder, please. I need it.” My voice sounds whiney and weak, unrecognisable to myself. I
Yes, Miss
sound just like those pathetic, needy subs I’ve always avoided, and now here I am, one of them.
“Oh no, I’m in charge here, Little Queen, not you, not this time. And I’ll go as fast as I fucking want, and you’ll take it, just like I want you to.” His determination and steely tone send shivers through me, heightening every sensation.
His hand pushes my head back down to the carpeted stair. He pulls out slowly, the drag of his cock making me clench tight around him, refusing to let him go.
“Look at you, so fucking desperate for my cock, gripping on to it for dear life, aren’t you? But you keep doing that, my queen, it feels so fucking good.” And with that, he slams into me, forcing a cry from me as I’m shunted forward.
The carpet grazes my cheek, leaving it feeling hot, but the burn just adds to the pleasure.
His hand lets go of my hair, and he grabs my hips, pulling me back onto him as he slams into me, never letting up, the pressure of my climax building, every muscle in my core tightening as he continues pounding into me.
Unable to move, my hands behind me, I have no choice but to kneel there and take every inch of him over and over. I can feel my pussy starting to pulse around him, my orgasm building stronger by the second, ready to tear
Alexandra Ravensbrook
through me as my thighs start to tremble, my mind void of anything now but the sensations of him around me, inside me, consuming me.
My moans are drowned out over the noise of his hips slamming against mine and the raw sound of his rough, throaty groans. The sound ignites a fire within me.
“Who are you, Isabelle?” he grunts out, his voice strained.
“Your… Queen…” I manage between my own gasps, my head spinning with this whole new side of him.
“That’s fucking right, you’re my queen, and my queen can take her king’s dick like a dirty slut when he needs her to.”
Oh fuck, that’s it. Hearing him talk to me like that— being called a slut, his slut, his queen—I can be on my knees for him when he needs me to.
My orgasm crashes through me, making me lose all sense of what’s happening as a delirious warmth washes over my entire being.
His thrusts become erratic as his own release follows, his hot, thick cum filling me up.
As I lay there, spent, my arms still tied behind my back, I realise I’ve done it. I’ve submitted to James, and I enjoyed it. I feel like the clouds have lifted from my soul.
The irony isn’t lost on me, submitting set me free.
Yes, Miss