Chapter 7 #4
He shuffles me around, until my face is resting in the crook of his neck and my legs are cradled between his.
When he has me where he wants me, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
He’s got a semi-stiffy that presses against my groin, but it’s not raging, and I don’t wiggle against him to provoke it.
He said he wanted to hug me and fuck if a hug doesn’t sound like the best thing in the world right now, even with my flaming ass stuck in the air.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, bold girl,” he says softly.
“Isn’t that a girl line, sir?”
He chuckles. “Probably. Tell me anyway.”
“I’m glad you belted me. I mean, I’m not glad-glad, because my ass is on fire, but you said it was a reset and that’s how I feel. Like we’ve started over from a good place. I’m not mad anymore. I’m not hurt. I feel . . . peaceful. Except my ass hurts.”
Mac chuckles. He works his hands up and down my back a few times, finally edging down onto the weals his belt has left, and when I don’t flinch or whimper, he rubs. There’s a knack to rubbing in the sting, and Mac has it.
“We’ll make this a ritual, girl. I want open communication between us, but if things have gotten fucked up and we need to reset, it’ll be a massage followed by five with my belt. Agreed?“
“Agreed, sir.” I’ve had rituals before, mostly with Edz, but nothing like this. Despite the strangeness of it, it feels right.
“I want a relaxed evening where we just enjoy each other’s company,” Mac says. “Are you up for that? Any commitments tonight?”
“No commitments.” If I had any, I’d cancel them. “Totally up for that.”
“Good.”
He rubs for a while longer and I melt all over him.
I was holding myself up with my elbows because I’m not a lightweight and I didn’t want to crush him, but he keeps pressing me tighter and tighter into his body.
So I relax and enjoy being held. I can’t remember the last time anyone held me like this and it calms everything inside me.
I doze off while Mac’s hugging me. When I wake, he’s pulled the edge of the quilt over us, the candles have burned down, and the rich scent of frying onions is filling the air.
I lift my head from the pillow of his throat.
Mac takes a deep breath, his chest lifting under me, and blinks himself awake.
He gives me a lazy, sleepy smile.
“Good nap?”
“Yes, sir.” The headache I woke up with this morning, the perpetual pinched feeling around my eyes—they’re gone. I feel refreshed, even though I just slept on the world’s hardest, lumpiest mattress.
“Can you spend the night?” Mac asks. “I feel like I owe you a good night’s sleep.”
The last night we spent together was anything but, and I am running a serious sleep debt. Maybe I’ll be able to crash out tonight, given how tired I am. Even if I can’t, I don’t want to give up the opportunity to sleep with Mac again.
“Yes, sir. I’m opening in the morning, though, so I need to head home by eight.”
“No problem.” He lets out a long sigh. “Among the many things I let slide while I was dealing with Naomi was making an appointment with you—”
“I have time this week, sir. I’ll text you when I get in and look at the schedule.”
He cups the back of my head and draws me into his kiss, which is warm and deep with only a hint of dominance. When he lets me come up for air, he smiles against my lips. “Thank you for making time for me, bold girl. I know I haven’t made it easy this week.”
“Are you telling me it will be easier next week?” I ask.
He chuckles. I like the feeling of his laughter against my lips.
“I’ll do my best. Smells like Em’s making dinner. You want a shower while I go down and lend a hand?”
“Yes, thank you, sir.”
“Good girl.” He gives me another kiss. “I know you’ll be feeling my stripes when we sit down to dinner, but I still want to plug you. Anything I should know about?”
“No, sir, I’m good.” There’s no lingering soreness from the plug he had me wear, and I’m doubly-glad I didn’t let Theo fuck me, because that man just loves rough anal. It feels like a gift to be able to offer Mac a blank slate.
“Excellent. You can wear my shirt to dinner, but otherwise you’re naked until you leave tomorrow.” He grins against my lips. “I love Logan’s house rules.”
I smile back even while I roll my eyes. “Such a Dom.”
“That I am. Anything you need, beautiful?”
I need him to keep calling me beautiful. “Ten minutes on the phone to make sure everything’s okay at my shop?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t ever interfere with your business. Thanks again for making time for me, Bren. Means a lot.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” I press my smile into his lips and feel him echo my gesture.
When I emerge from the bathroom, feeling even more refreshed than I did after my nap, I find that Mac’s left me not just one of his shirts, but the T-shirt he was wearing.
There are a couple of spots of massage oil on it.
It smells like him. And when I pull it on, it’s still deliciously warm.
I hug it to my body as I head downstairs.
There are more voices than I expect coming from the kitchen.
I hear Logan and Mac, but also Austin’s bass rumble and the cool alto of his Domme, Dana.
Everyone’s clustered around the kitchen island.
Emily and Mac are working on one side of it, while Logan and Dana are in the bar chairs on the other side, with Austin kneeling at Dana’s feet.
There are two spare bar chairs. I could sidle up into one of them and take advantage of the nibbles Emily’s set out. If I was wearing anyone’s shirt but Mac’s, I probably would.
But I am wearing his shirt, and he wants something close to twenty-four-seven, and I said I’d try, so instead of sitting down and enjoying the appetizers, I walk over to Mac, kneel at his feet, and arrange myself the way showed me at dinner before our scene.
He lets me kneel for a long moment before he wipes his hands and rests his palm on the top of my head. “I like seeing you in my shirt, Bren.”
“Thank you for leaving it for me, sir. It was still warm when I put it on.” Then something slips out that’s way too sappy to come out of my mouth. “It feels like a hug.”
His answering smile is brilliant and if I was wearing panties, that smile would have incinerated them. Unhurriedly, he strokes my head and I find myself relaxing, physically and mentally. I was relaxed after our “reset,” a nap, and a shower, but now I’m a seriously limp noodle.
“When you’re ready,” Mac says. “Stand and serve everyone a drink. I’ll take a beer. You can have whatever you want, but you’ll be drinking some of it out of my mouth, so nothing diet.”
I smile up at him. “Yes, sir.”
“When you’re finished serving, meet me in the bathroom. I’m going to plug you before dinner.”
That should make me nervous, but some, clearly deranged, part of me relaxes even more. “Yes, sir. Do you want me to get a plug?”
“No, sweetheart. I already have one for you.”
His grin should be disturbing. Instead, it lights a fire in my belly.
He lifts his hand from my head, and I tense my thighs and wiggle my toes to get the circulation going before I stand and walk a circuit around the room, getting everyone drinks.
I like the beer Logan buys; I get one for myself as well as Mac.
He drank his out of the bottle the other night, so I just pop the top and set it next to where he’s working, chopping celery for a salad.
“Give me a minute here, bold girl. Stand behind me and put your arms around my waist.”
Snuggle up to that broad, strong back and feel the press of his firm ass against my belly and hips? Sign me up.
Once I’m in position, I tuck my face into the plane between his shoulder blades and close my eyes.
The muscles of his back flex against my cheek as he chops and moves the cut pieces into a big, wooden, salad bowl.
He’s put on a white T-shirt to replace the shirt he left for me.
It’s soft and warm against me and it smells of Emily’s laundry detergent and Mac’s tea, tobacco, and leather aftershave.
I’m drowning in the scent and feel of him.
Mac is a serious cuddler, and six months ago that might have turned me off, but now, it’s exactly what I need.
When he finishes, he reaches back and caresses my hips, tucking me even tighter against his ass. “This reminding you of anything, sweetheart?” he whispers over his shoulder.
It reminds me of the position I was finally able to sleep in the other night, but I didn’t realize he was aware of it. “Did you pretend to be asleep, sir?”
“Seemed like what you needed. I only realized in the morning that I was spooning you onto your bad hip. I’ll be more conscious of it tonight.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m okay on that hip for an hour or two, but then it starts aching.”
Mac hums in his chest. “Any chance of you telling me how it happened?”
My breath catches. “Sir—”
“If it’s too soon, that’s okay. Just be honest with me, sweetheart.”
“I, uh—” I rub my cheek against his back. I want to trust him. I want more than I’ve had with my other Doms. Does that start with letting him in? “Sir, it isn’t something I talk about. But I’ll try if it’s something you want to know.”
Mac turns and cups my face in his hands. “I want to know everything,” he says against my lips.
I melt into his kiss.
With his mouth still on mine, he steers me into the bathroom off the kitchen.
He backs me against the tiled wall, closes the door behind us, and kisses my face off, nipping at my lips, flicking his tongue against mine.
The warm simmer in my belly blooms into a bonfire and when I push my hips into Mac’s, he groans and lets me feel the iron bar of his erection.
I smile into his kiss and he laughs into mine.
“I’m dying to fuck you, bold girl,” he groans.
“The feeling’s mutual, sir.”
He touches his forehead to mine. “Bend over the sink and hold your cheeks open for me. If I can’t fuck you with my cock, I’m going to fuck you with this plug.”
He does and makes me howl through a hard, fast orgasm before he leads me back out to face the grinning crowd around the kitchen island.
Emily’s organized the salad Mac was working on in our absence. She hands the wooden serving bowl to me along with a towel. When I lift an eyebrow at her, she gives me a wink. A step behind me, Mac chuckles.
“Too bad it’s not my come leaking outta you onto that towel,” he whispers in my ear, shooting a hot shiver down my spine to pool in my tender, pulsing ass. “Next time.”
I somehow manage to wobble my way to the dining table and plonk the bowl down. I flap the towel across a chair and am just about to collapse onto it when Mac collars me by the back of my neck.
“Do you have permission to sit?” he growls in my ear.
Fuck. Normally I’d snark, but he plug-fucked all the snark out of me and now I’m just a pile of submissive goop.
“Sir, may I have permission?”
“Mmm.” He tips my head to the side with his grip on my neck and runs his teeth along the edge of my ear. My knees buckle and I grab the back of the chair to keep from landing on my knees. “You may, this time. Next time you’ll be wearing some stripes. Furniture’s a privilege, not a right.”
Good thing Emily’s given me the towel because there’s a freaking swamp puddling between my legs.
“Yes, sir.”
He nips my ear hard enough to sting before he guides me into the chair by my nape. Have I ever felt this controlled? Have I ever wanted to? Shivering, I slump in the chair until a twinge in my ass reminds me uncomfortably of the plug. I straighten my spine.
Emily sits down across the table from me and catches my eye. “You okay?” she mouths.
I nod. I’m sure I look glazed. I feel glazed. And tingly. And, fuck me, happy.
Mac folds his big frame down into the chair next to me. He reaches out and cups my chin in his hand and looks deep into my eyes. He winks before letting me go and slinging his arm across the back of my chair.
He leans in and murmurs in my ear, “Enjoy your meal, girl. I think you need another orgasm for dessert.”
Fuck, yeah.
“Thank you, sir. Can I give you a little dessert, too?”
He chuckles, his lips brushing my ear and slipping down my neck. “You could definitely persuade me.”