Chapter 36 Kat #2
Ivan nods, pulling the letter out of a folio he had on the edge of my husband's desk and handing it over. Henry studies the two letters before turning them around to show my father. “Do these names seem a little too similar to you?”
I’m half leaning over the desk, trying to look at the papers, when Henry pulls them back. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling. Here,” he says, placing them in front of me instead of Ivan.
Dilan B. Sims.
Simon L. Dixon.
When I’ve finished looking, Henry gives the papers back to Sasha and Ivan.
“That’s a bit too coincidental if you ask me,” Sasha says, handing the letters to Henry.
Henry pulls out his phone and snaps a photo before sending a message to Ledger.
“Well, I don’t believe in coincidences, and especially not ones on this scale.
I do believe that this Dilan/Simon is our guy.
I’m going to send this to my brother to see if he can dig anything else up, and then tomorrow I’ll go into my office and see if any of our investigators can help as well. ”
Turning his attention to me, he cups my cheek, resting his forehead against mine. “I swear to you, I'm going to find whoever is doing this, love. And when I do, they better hope I’m in the mood for an easy death.”
I’m wrapped in a blanket, staring into the blackness engulfing the trees behind the house, when Henry finally finishes his business with my family.
“Kitten? I thought you were in the library,” he says, wrapping his long arms around me and resting his chin on my head.
Sighing, I turn to bury my face in his chest hair, delighting in his warmth and the smell that’s so uniquely him. “I missed you, and I got restless. I was going to take a nap, then I thought about you coming to find me after I was already asleep.”
His eyes darken as he realizes my meaning.
“And then I got even more restless, so I decided to read, which didn’t help. I’ve only been standing here for a couple of minutes. I was about to come looking for you.”
Henry picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, letting the blanket fall to reveal my minuscule lounge set.
“I sincerely hope you weren’t about to come looking for me dressed like this,” he teases, nuzzling into my neck.
He’s just as ravenous for me as always, but I can’t help but think about the parts of his past that I haven’t fully experienced.
Before my brain can go totally fuzzy with need, I decided to be brave and ask a question I’ve been pondering as we’ve continued to strengthen our relationship.
“Why don’t you tie me up or make me kneel?” There. Straightforward, easy peasy. He stills, pulling back from my neck to look into my eyes with concern. Gently, he sits down on the edge of the bed and arranges me back on his thighs so we can see each other better.
Rubbing gentle circles on my upper arms as he holds me, he tilts his head to the side. “Why do you ask? Is that something that you want?”
I can’t help but bite my lip, then smile as his eyes immediately track the movement.
“I don’t know if it’s something I want…maybe?
” Ugh. Time to be very, very brave. “I just don’t understand why we don’t do that stuff.
I know you used to, with the other women.
The shibari, or whatever it’s called. It seemed like a big part of your life. ”
My voice is so quiet by the end that I’m not sure he heard me until he lifts my face back to his with one finger under my chin.
“It was a big part of my life, particularly when I wanted to feel in control. If you’re curious, we can try it and see if you enjoy it,” he says gently, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb.
The thought has me wiggling in his lap. “Please. Can we?”
He holds my jaw and gives me a stern look. “We can, but it’s serious, baby. If I bind you, you have to tell me if anything feels too tight. And use your special word if you want to stop. Can you promise me that?”
“Yes, Daddy. I promise.”
Less than twenty minutes later, I’m kneeling on a cushion on the floor, wrists and ankles securely fastened to the bedpost behind me.
The ropes crossing my skin feel soft and warm, but are a constant tease, keeping me on edge.
He’s left me here to rummage around in the closet, and I keep my eyes down when I hear him return.
“Look how prettily you wait for me, Kitten. You deserve a reward.”
I can’t hold back a gasp as he reaches down to slide something into me, a vibrating portion remaining outside and resting against my clit.
He gives me a little pat on the thigh as he stands and sits in a wingback chair he’s dragged across the room.
He’s only five feet away, but I spend so much time in his lap these days that the distance feels like a mile.
“Look at me,” he says quietly, and I see that he’s fully dressed himself in a suit, looking so handsome I have to bite back a moan. He’s sitting with a small book in his lap and a glass of liquor in his hand, the picture of masculinity. “How do you feel? Is your position good? Does anything hurt?”
“I feel good, Daddy. Nothing hurts,” I reply sweetly, deciding to tease him a bit. “Except my pussy.”
His responding grin is sinister. “I assure you it’s only going to get worse.”
He pulls a remote from his suit pocket and clicks it twice.
My abs clench as I try to bend over from the sensation, but my binds to the bedpost keep me upright.
I’m forced to hold my position as the vibrator begins buzzing on each end, inside and outside, and I’m thrust toward a screaming orgasm.
Just as I prepare to fall over the edge, everything stops.
Henry sips his scotch and eyes me hungrily. I pant but don’t complain. If this is what he likes, I’m going to do it better than all the dumb women who came before me. I’m not a quitter, and I’ll be the best at…whatever this is, if it’s the last thing I do.
After two more rounds, though, I’m questioning my sanity.
Sweat beads at my hairline, and my thighs quiver with the pain of being dragged away from my release again.
Henry isn’t as unaffected as I’d assumed he’d be, either, bent at the waist and staring at me intently.
His suit jacket has been removed, and judging from the buttons open on his shirt, he’s feeling the heat in the room as well.
He clicks the remote, and I heave out a sob of pleasure and pain when he stands suddenly, throwing the liquor glass against the far wall of the bedroom where it shatters.
Immediately, I’m released from the bedpost, and he quickly pulls the vibrator from between my legs.
I barely start to wheeze out a question of what he’s doing when he pushes me onto my back on the cold hardwood floor.
His eyes are manic as he rips his shirt off, buttons flying across the room.
His pants are shoved down his thighs, and then he’s inside me, my soaked core welcoming him with as little pain as is possible for me to feel with his size.
I can barely catch my breath as he drives into me, deeply and steadily. His hands are on either side of my face, holding me in place and ensuring I can’t look anywhere but at him.
“I’m sorry, little girl. Daddy couldn’t take it anymore.
I need to be in you. I have to feel your skin on mine.
You were too far away, Katarina. I needed to feel you,” he captures my lips with a moan, his thrusts becoming more frantic and uncontrolled.
One hand finds my clit and rubs in my favorite pattern immediately, as if he knows he’s on borrowed time before his completion.
“You have to come for me. You have to. Now!” His final command is growled into my ear, and the feeling of his warm cum sets me off.
I’m dragged under with him, the feeling of my orgasm overwhelming after the earlier denials.
Trembling slightly, Henry pulls me to his chest and relaxes back against the bed.
He holds me tightly as our breathing slows, only moving when I shiver to reach for a blanket to wrap around us.
I can tell that he has something important to say, so I patiently wait until he meets my gaze.
“I prefer you in my arms,” he says quietly, softly kneading my hips where he holds me.
“I prefer the feel of your skin on mine. Your sweat, your goose bumps…the raised scar on the back of your left knee from falling in the woods chasing Sasha, and the little hairs you always miss when you shave around your left ankle.”
My mouth drops open indignantly at that, but before I can defend my skills with a razor, he silences me with a tiny shake of his head.
“It was, of course, very erotic to have you tied to my bedpost. And I’ll do so anytime you wish, if you like it. But I don’t enjoy denying you pleasure, Kitten. I vastly prefer giving it to you. Ideally, with my hands all over you.”
I rest my forehead against his for a moment before replying.
“It was fun. And I came so hard once you actually let me,” I tease. “But I agree. I prefer being in your lap to being on the floor. As long as you're sure you don’t miss the lifestyle. All the bondage and submission aspects of it. I don’t want you to give up anything for me.”
I know he sees the vulnerability in my eyes as I admit my insecurity. In return, all I can see is the love in his.
“Katarina, I haven’t given up anything for you. What we share is more profound than having you kneel at my feet or bound before me. It might be something we play with, but it’s not as important to me as feeling you and pleasuring you. I just need you. That’s all.”
We’re quiet for a moment as I snuggle into the crook of his neck and melt into his embrace.
“Also, for the record. Our free use arrangement is an incredible act of trust from you. That’s the most exquisite submission I’ve ever experienced, and I’ll never take that for granted.
So instead of thinking that you’ve pulled me from the lifestyle, I would actually argue that you’ve elevated me to a higher plane of pleasure.
It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before, baby. ”
When he puts it like that, it does seem like I’m the BDSM queen over all his past partners. Petty of me, but a win’s a win. I’ll take it.
“Does the higher plane of pleasure we’re on include midnight snacks?” I ask, nibbling at his neck and enjoying his rumbling laugh. He stands effortlessly, still holding me, and finally pulls his cock free before setting me on the bed, wrapped in the blanket.
“I think you’ve earned a snack. I’ll bring sweets, but you have to eat some fruit first,” he says, giving me a stern look as he pulls on clothes to go forage for food.
Eyeing the snack I actually want, barely hidden by the gray sweats he’s wearing, I wink.
“Yes, Daddy.”