Chapter 24
ASHER
Asher
I received your contract. Let’s discuss further when I get home.
Grace
Does that mean…
Asher
Does that mean? Finish your sentence, Sugar.
Grace
You know…
Asher
Enlighten me.
Grace
Are we going to you know tonight?
Asher
What do I know?
Grace
Like… have sex?
Asher
We’ll see. I’ll be home at 5:15. Can you wait in the foyer for me?
Grace
Yes. I’ll be there.
Imust read Grace’s signed list of limits over one hundred times. I read and re-read until the words are seared into my memory. I know every detail of what she is and isn’t willing to do by heart by the time I leave my office on Friday night.
But the list is just limits. Boundaries. Yes. No. Maybes.
I could Dom a scene based on this list. I have before. But this feels different. More than just creating a scene that meets both our needs. I want to understand all the little details of Grace’s fantasies. I want to bring her deepest desires to life.
By the time I get home, I’m buzzing with energy, but I tamp it down. Taking a deep breath, I’m back in control once the elevator reaches the penthouse.
As discussed, Grace is waiting in the foyer for me when the door slides open.
She’s wearing a loose black t-shirt and a pair of leggings that cling to her skin.
The attire is standard for her when she’s home.
I’ve realized over the past few months that she prefers comfort over aesthetics.
She shifts on her heels like she’s not sure what she should be doing.
I resisted the urge to tell her to be waiting on her knees, wearing nothing. My sweet Sugar isn’t ready to be plunged into the deep end yet. She needs to be eased in, even if this is exactly what she’s asking for.
Slowly, while maintaining eye contact, I pull my jacket from my arms and extend it, waiting for her to understand.
Realization dawns, and she moves forward, taking the article from me and hanging it on the hook.
I loosen my tie and hand that over next before taking the time to slowly and carefully roll up my shirt sleeves.
After Grace hangs the tie, she watches, eyes glued to my skin as her tongue darts across her lips.
“Come.” When I gesture for her to follow me, she does. I take a seat on the couch in the sitting area, and before she joins me, I stop her. “Make me a drink, Sugar.”
She pauses, her lips parting slightly. “A drink…” She elongates the words. “Where–”
I point to the bar cart. “Whiskey,” I tell her. “And pour yourself a glass of water.”
Making her way to the cart, she fumbles with the bottles until she finds the whiskey and a glass. It’s not the Glencairn, what I would normally pour my whiskey in, but it will do. She pours herself water from the pitcher next, and then brings both over, handing the whiskey to me.
“I’m proud of you for not spilling it.”
Immediately, a blush heats her cheeks, and she dips her head.
“Sit down.” I nod to the chair across from me and, wordlessly, she sits.
Her eager eyes are trained on me, waiting for the next order.
I knew she enjoyed this, following orders, even before she asked me to command her back in Bali.
But hearing her ask did something to me, more than just making my dick strain beneath my boxers. “Drink.”
Tilting back the glass, she takes a small sip. My eyes tell her it’s not enough, and I don’t have to speak for her to drink more before showing me the empty glass.
“Good girl.”
I can practically see the way she relaxes from the praise, like her body becomes looser.
"I read through your checklist."
She nods, eyes still on me, waiting for the next part.
“I want to hear you say it, though, Sugar. What do you want?”
Her fingers twist in her lap as her head tilts down. I can’t place if it’s embarrassment or anxiety that triggers this nervous reaction.
"I don't know how to say it," she finally says softly.
"Try." It comes out as a command, and Grace’s eyes snap up.
"I like when you use that voice," she whispers.
"What voice?" I ask, knowing exactly what she means, but I want her to keep talking.
"The one you just used. When you told me to try." She swallows. "It makes me want to... obey."
"Tell me more."
"When you took charge in Bali…" She avoids looking at me. "I wanted you to keep going. I wanted to... do whatever you told me to."
"Look at me."
The demand has her lifting her gaze, locking onto mine.
"Is that what you want? For me to take control?" I want to hear her say it. No, I need to hear her say it.
I want her so badly it feels like I might combust if I don’t have her.
But I’m not willing to cross that line unless I know for absolute certain it’s what she wants.
"Yes," she says. "But I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Of not being good at it… Of disappointing you."
I stand, moving around the coffee table so I’m in front of her. I use my forefinger to lift her chin, forcing her to look up into my eyes again.
“You won’t disappoint me,” I tell her softly, not in the commanding voice. This one is the gentle praise I know she needs.
“So, what now?” she asks, lust shining in her hazel eyes.
"We need to discuss safe words before we can play."
"Like pineapple?"
I chuckle. "No. We're going to use the stoplight system.
Red, yellow, green. Red means stop immediately.
Yellow means slow down or check in. Green means keep going.
You can use them any time, Sugar. Even if we're just kissing.
Even if you think you're overreacting. Your safety matters more than anything else.
Whenever you use one, I will immediately respond. Understood?"
She nods and takes a breath. "Okay."
"Say them back to me," I order.
"Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to continue."
"Good girl."
She glows under my praise.
"You like that too."
"Yes," she breathes.
"Are you ready to play?"
She nods quickly, and I chide her. "When I ask you a question, you'll respond verbally, understood?"
She begins to nod again, but then freezes.
"Yes." And then a blush rises on her cheeks.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I just remembered something… You want to be called Sir." It's more of a statement than a question, and I recall the plane ride to Bali when she told me the nicknames in the book she was reading.
“I do. Would you like to call me Sir?" I want her to call me Sir more than I’ve ever wanted any submissive to, but I’m not about to force her.
"Yes."
"Good, I would like that, Sugar."
She sucks in another steadying breath.
"Okay, Sir, I’m ready."
The sound of the honorific on her lips is heaven.
“Stand up, Sugar.”
She rises slowly, eyes on me, waiting for the next order.
“Now, I’d like you to undress.” Her breath catches, but doesn’t argue, slowly pulling the black shirt over her head. Underneath, she’s wearing a lacy black bra, and my fingers itch to pull the cup away and expose her perky nipples. Next, she peels off her leggings, revealing the matching panties.
She moves to have her hands cover her midsection, but I stop them, pinning them to her sides. “Don’t hide from me. Don’t ever hide from me, Sugar. Understood?”
She swallows thickly. “Yes.” And then quickly she adds on, “Sir.”
“Good girl.” I trace my fingers over her shoulder, admiring her smooth skin, the way her breasts swell over the cup of the bra.
I trail my fingers down to the hem of her panties, tugging at the elastic.
“I want to see you,” I whisper against her skin, feeling the goosebumps rise on her flesh.
Slowly, I drag the lacy material down her legs until she’s bare for me.
“Sit, Sugar.”
She sits down daintily on the couch, keeping her legs firmly pressed together.
I lower to my knees so that I’m kneeling directly in front of her. “Tell me, does your pussy taste as sweet as your lips?”
She shivers from the words, her blush is ever present. I like the way it looks and that my words have such an effect on her.
"I don't know," she whispers.
"Guess I'll have to find out then." I place a palm on each of her knees, spreading them apart and revealing her gorgeous pussy to me. Before I can lean in, Grace’s hands come to cover it.
I look up, cocking an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Sugar.”
“No, uh, no… It’s just…”
“Has no one eaten this beautiful pussy before?”
Her face gets redder. “No.”
“Good,” I say, even though it’s a tragedy that no one has ever worshiped her in this way. “I’m happy to be the first. Now, would you like to move your hands?”
She nods and slowly pulls them away.
“I want you to reach behind you and grip the couch. Do not let go until I say. Can you do that, Sugar?”
She nods.
“Words,” I demand, my voice darkening.
“Yes, Sir,” she says on an exhale.
I lean in, licking a long stroke over her mound that makes her back arch. Reaching forward, I press on her stomach to hold her in place as I dig in again. She moans as I lick at her sex.
“Put your legs on my shoulders.”
Her eyes are wide, but one look at me has her complying, lifting each leg over my shoulders, giving me better access to her cunt.
I feast on her, rotating between long, languid strokes of my tongue and sucking on her clit. She’s moaning and doing these little shakes that are so damn sexy.
“Please.” When that word leaves her lips, I know I have her where I want her.
I position one of my hands to slip one finger into her pussy, and she pulses around me. She’s so goddamn tight, and I imagine what it will feel like to have her squeezing my cock.
She cries out as I push in and out, my tongue finding its place on her clit until she’s panting.
On a gasp, her hands break from their position, coming to grip onto my hair as she approaches her climax. I stop, pulling back as she pants out a plea.
“Where did I say to keep your hands?”
“Oh, fuck.” She cries out the curse, and her hands move back to position. “Please, please, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Sugar.” I reach up, stroking her face. “You’re learning. Now, let’s try again.”
I dive back in, lapping at her cunt like it’s my last meal while my fingers work her pussy, stretching her tight walls.
“I want you to come, Sugar. Come all over my tongue so I can taste how sweet you are.”
My words do the trick, pushing her over the edge. She screams through an orgasm, and her sweet taste floods my mouth. I lick it up, relishing her moans and how her body trembles.
When I sit back up, she’s catching her breath, eyes hazy and skin flushed prettily.
I lift my glistening finger, making sure she sees it before I suck her juices clean.
“Mm, you do taste like sugar.”