49. Forty-nine
Forty-nine
Payton
T he owners' suites are midway up in the arena, with seats on outdoor balconies should we choose to view the game from there, but the large flat-screen TVs on the walls are playing everything that’s happening below in high definition and it’s easier to follow this way. Tonight, I don’t plan on watching the game. I’m going to devote my full attention to my brand-new fiancée.
Ainsley’s fingers tremble in my grip. “How are you feeling, Princess?”
“I’m so happy I don’t know what to do. I’m kind of freaking out at how public that was and how many people just watched us get engaged. What’s that going to mean with the news and gossip?” She worries her lower lip with her teeth.
We’ve kept our relationship as private as possible, but inevitably, there have been stories about us. The end of the Atlanta Haute List left a void that several new copycat sites filled. They don’t do it quite as well as Ainsley did but still manage to post stories and get views.
I’m proud of her for expressing these emotions, but there’s likely more she’s not saying because that’s the way my girl works. She can only voice so many feelings at once and stuffs down anything that overwhelms her instead of processing what she needs to.
“Feeling a bit overwhelmed?”
“So much,” she says, eyes pleading for what she knows I’m offering.
“Do you need to stop overthinking?” I ask, ready to take on any burden she’s carrying to help her in the way we’ve found works best. She likes a little pain and a lot of pleasure to get out of her spiral of anxiety that usually comes with new situations and overwhelming thoughts. She ends up processing her feelings just fine once her brain stops spinning. Otherwise, she’ll stuff it down and dissociate. I want to avoid that with a happy new experience like our engagement causing her overwhelm.
“Please, Daddy, turn my brain off.”
She leans into me, trusting me unequivocally to take care of every need as she surrenders her control. We’ve laid the foundation for this kind of trust through countless sessions where I’ve listened to her and shown her that while she submits to me, she’s in control. A single word from her stops our play or changes the direction it takes. She has all the power in our scenes, dynamic, and relationship. Everything I do is for her pleasure, care, and protection.
“It’s a good thing I brought this, isn’t it?” I pull a butt plug and a tiny bottle of lube from my inside suit pocket and place them on the table next to her.
“What? Here? You can’t be serious.” Her eyes are wide in disbelief. To Ainsley, this suite is basically a public space. I’m pushing her boundaries by asking her to submit with strangers on the other side of a thin sheet of glass and in the suites next door.
“I’m quite serious. I want you to have something to clench around when I spank that perfect ass.” She’ll love the feeling just as much as she’ll get off on the implied humiliation of someone looking inside and catching us in the middle of our scene. While she’s not an exhibitionist, she loves to be degraded, and we’ve discovered it extends beyond just the dirty words that do it for her.
I take off my jacket and begin rolling up my sleeves, initiating the scene with the familiar action. She stills, entering her submissive headspace in preparation.
“Take off your panties, give them to me, and put that in your ass.” I place a kiss against her temple, ready to watch.
“What about…” She gestures nervously at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the arena and the hockey game below. There are seats right outside our balcony with fans cheering wildly, though our suite is soundproof and it’s only a muffled roar in here.
“Don’t you want to show off what a good fucktoy you are for me and how badly my slut wants my cum?” I ask with an amused chuckle.
She shakes her head and glares at me, the brat coming out when she was prepared to be such a good girl to get what she needs. “Yellow,” she says, using her safe words before we’ve even begun, making me smile proudly. “We’ll have security banging down the door when they hear me screaming from you turning my ass red. I don’t want the embarrassment of having to explain what we’re up to.” She stands her ground, and I know this is a boundary she won’t back down from. I cup her chin and smooth my thumb over her cheek, so in love with this feisty little spitfire.
“The glass is one-way. They can’t see in, but we have a perfectly clear view of the ice. As much as I love your incredible body, I won’t be sharing it with random strangers.” I assure her. “It’s also soundproof. Notice how we can barely hear the crowd out there even though they’re insanely loud? No one is going to bang down our door because I’m banging you like a screen door in a hurricane.”
The suite was designed with my needs in mind. As much as I’m an exhibitionist, I won’t share a single intimate moment with my girl with anyone else. And I plan on having plenty of moments with her at games going forward.
She relaxes, realizing her privacy will be maintained. She smiles as she begins to strip, her fears alleviated.
I lean against the wall while she undresses, enjoying the view as her skin is revealed. Seeing Ainsley naked never gets old. She sends my desire flying with the briefest glimpse of her body.
She picks up the plug and pauses, holding up her left hand, my ring shining next to it. “My engagement ring matches my butt plug.” She giggles and shakes her head. “You really think of everything. Only you would ensure all my jewelry is my favorite color.” She pops the cap of the lube, coating the plug before bending over and pressing it against her ass, accepting it slowly while I watch.
Fuck me. I start naming every player on the Hydras roster to keep myself from getting too worked up from watching. She hands me her panties and I run the silky material under my nose while she watches. I’m intoxicated. Addicted to Ainsley, this little hit not nearly enough for me. I need her . I add the scrap of silk to my jacket pocket and turn back to her with a hungry look. I unfasten my belt and pull it off quickly with one hand, snapping the leather. Her mouth goes slack as she watches, eyes unfocused, entering subspace where she’ll experience this session in a deliriously floaty state.
“Hands,” I command.
She presents her wrists to me, and I wrap them with the belt. She’s so beautiful, her wrists bound and my ring flashing on her finger. Fuck, that looks good. I step back and take in the sight. It’s permanently rewiring my brain to experience an even deeper love for her I didn’t know existed. I unknot my tie and slip the silk from my neck, walking around Ainsley as she trembles in anticipation, her nipples pebbled against the temperature in the room.
“Close your eyes, Princess.”
She does, and I wrap it around her head, tying it into a blindfold. I lead her to the black leather sofa and bend her over the back, balanced on her tiptoes, her restrained arms stretched over the seat cushions.
“Did you drink more water than coffee today?” I ask patiently, my Daddy voice making her quiver.
She’s quiet for a moment. “Not yet.”
I bring my palm down across her bare ass, watching as she clenches around the plug and gasps. The first one is always a shock to the system. I tsk.
“What about your affirmations and meditation? Did you do those?” I ask, running through her short list of tasks I’ve assigned so she works through her biggest struggles and deals with her anxiety. It’s part of our dynamic that extends outside of our play sessions and the bedroom. It’s another way I'm able to care for her.
“I journaled for my meditation but not the affirmations,” she says.
I slap her ass again, making her jump and wiggle against the couch. The wiggles help her overstimulated system deal with the pain, but she’ll settle in soon enough.
“Telling yourself you’re a strong, capable woman who kicks ass, is an incredible writer, and has a hot body shouldn’t be difficult when it’s all true,” I remind her with a rumble to my tone that she loves, given the way her back arches and one knee pops, her foot coming off the ground and smoothing along my leg, needing connection. Normally, I position her on my lap in some manner so we’re touching for intimacy during the pain, but tonight she needs to experience this on her own.
“It’s hard to take myself seriously when I say those things,” she protests.
I surprise her by tugging on the plug in her ass, getting a moan and quickly swatting a cheek when she relaxes. She yelps and grinds against the sofa, looking for friction. That’s my good fucking girl.
“You’ll do better next week or you won’t get my cum, and I’ll make you do the affirmations to me instead of by yourself,” I threaten, rubbing my palm over the pink handprints blooming on her ass.
She whimpers, unhappy about the ultimatum. “Fine, I’ll do them.”
I bend down and bite her delicious cheek. She squeaks but quickly presses back against me when I stay low, pulling her open and lapping at her soaked core. I groan at the taste as I eat her from behind until she’s squirming, teetering on the edge. I pull back, denying her the orgasm she’s searching for because she didn’t complete her tasks, but I’m willing to reward her for agreeing to work harder.
“Mmmm, that’s my good girl,” I growl against her. “ Somehow, my fiancée tastes even better than my girlfriend did.”
She’s moaning and writhing, pushed up onto the back of the sofa with her arms so she can grind against my face. I stand and press her back down over the sofa and spank her ass again. Her cry is one of total pleasure and she widens her legs, looking for friction for her clit. I press the plug with my thumb and drive two fingers into her silky cunt, stroking her as I slap her ass again, feeling her clench around me. “There you go, baby, you’re so close.”
“More, please, Daddy,” she whimpers.
“You’re so sweet and obedient for me when you want something, Princess. But I want you dripping and pathetic. Make a mess and show me what my future wife looks like begging to come wrapped around my fat cock.” I spank her again and she cries out, pleas for more and harder falling from her gorgeous lips in a beautiful chorus of passion while her pussy clutches my fingers as she loses control.
“Oh, fuck,” Ainsley whimpers, her legs shaking as I stroke her through her release. She’s dripping now, just like I told her, my hand coated in her mess. It takes everything not to drop to my knees for her again and lick her clean like a juicy Georgia peach.
I pull my fingers out of her spasming cunt and suck them clean. I wrap my arms around her and yank her against my chest, letting my hands roam along her warm skin. I trail my fingers up to her face and pull the blindfold from her eyes. She turns her face toward me, blinking as I remove the belt from her wrists.
“I want you free for what’s next. Go stand in front of the glass and let me look at you.” I step back to give her room to move away from the sofa and instantly miss the warmth of her against me. I’d attach this woman to me if I could. Let her sit on my lap and warm my cock through all my meetings, cling to me like a cute little koala bear, hold her in my arms so I can smell her neck or hair when I need a hit of her intoxicating scent. Fucking obsessed is what I am, and damn proud of it.
She takes wobbly steps to the window and turns to look at me with a devilish smile. There’s my bratty baby girl. So much for the obedient good girl. She got off and now she’s testing boundaries.
“Show your future wife how you crawl for her, Payton.” She’s confident, holding out her hands and beckoning me closer.
Oh, girl. She’s waving a red flag in front of a bull with that request. I’d do anything for her. All she has to do is ask, but we haven’t engaged in power exchanges much due to the demands of our dynamic and her comfort levels. I’ve always been the Dominant, the top, in our relationship because she needed it. But this? I can fucking do this.
I drop to my knees, feeling the hard floor beneath the fine wool of my trousers, keeping my eyes on her as I crawl to my fucking queen coming into her power now that she’s wearing my ring and agreed to become my wife. It doesn’t take me long to cross the space and end up at her feet, where I bow and kiss up her legs from her toes to that glorious pussy that has me so enraptured I’d do anything for her. I’m so fucking hard with this switch in our roles. I’ve known she’s capable of topping, if she wanted to, since the night we went to Dionysus and she looked like my hot teacher fantasy, but she’s always enjoyed bratting and submitting to me more.
I stay on my knees as I bury my face in her pussy and show her how I worship the single greatest thing in my life. She rocks back against the window and grips my hair, a moan escaping her as I spread her thighs wider and nudge one of her legs onto my shoulder for better access. I feast. I know her body so well at this point that each moan, every tensing of her muscles, and each intake of breath that she holds feels like my personal map to unlocking the pleasure chest waiting for me. Her legs go rigid, shaking as a release grips her and travels from her pointing toes to her center and goes off like the Fourth of July with her needy screams and bucking hips that grind into my face. I suck her clit and take her through the climax, easing her down with soft licks to her pussy, and wait for her hazy eyes to open and find mine with a shaky smile.
Now it’s time to flip it back to what she needs and continue our work to get her out of that beautiful, busy brain of hers and help her let go so she can quietly experience the feelings, new situations, and emotions that are overwhelming her. I have to top the top that suddenly rose up in her. I stand and spin her, pressing her against the window, her wrists raised above her head in my fist. She gasps, the cold glass a shock to her flushed skin and sex-disoriented brain.
“You liked me worshiping at your feet, didn’t you, my queen?” I ask, kissing her neck as she presses against me.
“Yes.” She sighs, her warm breath fogging the icy window. “You’re beautiful on your knees for me, my love.”
I groan into her hair, my hands moving down to my pants. I unzip and push my boxer briefs down far enough to free my cock. “You know I’ll get on my knees for you whenever you want, Princess, but I think you’re desperate for my cock and you want me filling his greedy cunt more. I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy and wreck you tonight.”
She whimpers when I lift her up, holding her with one arm, and slowly pull her down onto my cock so she feels each of my piercings, a moan slipping from her lips when our hips meet. She leans her face against the glass and presses her hands at shoulder height as I wrap her legs around my hips for support so I can hold her waist and pump into her tight cunt with abandon. She’s small enough for me to throw around and use like the fucktoy I love and I take full advantage. I angle her hips back, slamming into her before pulling out to the tip, her breath fogging up the glass around her face as she cries out with each thrust.
“Oh my God,” she screams, her pussy clenching around me as I bottom out.
“Take it, baby, fucking own me with this tight pussy, my beautiful, filthy whore. You feel so good, my favorite set of holes.” I’m holding it together by a thread, keeping up as much of the degradation and praise that makes her moan and grip me tighter, but I’m not going to last long the way she’s strangling my cock. Seeing her pretty pink pussy stretching around my cock every time I slam into her and her engagement ring flashing when her hand moves is unraveling every thread of control I possess. This glorious woman is mine.
“Oh, Daddy, right there, please don’t stop,” she begs, her legs tightening around my hips in our contorted position.
I support her weight on my thighs and move a hand to her clit, circling as I continue to fuck her. Soon, she cries out and clamps down on me, her orgasm rolling over her like a tidal wave and dripping down my cock as she squirts . Fuuuck . The tight grip and the knowledge that I did that to her send me barreling over the edge. Pressing her against the window, I barely catch myself on one hand, burying myself balls deep as I come harder than I have in my life.
“Fuck,” I swear, holding her tightly as my cock jerks and she squeezes me dry. When I can see straight, I carry her back to the sofa and fall back into it, Ainsley in my lap, still on my cock, with our cum spilling around our thighs. I love the way she wears it.
“I hope you pay the cleaning crew well,” she quips dreamily, her breaths coming in fast pants as she leans into me. “We made an absolute mess out of that window and the floor. If that happens when we get engaged, I can’t even imagine what the mess will be like when we get married and I’m your wife.”
My wife. I want that. I laugh and hold her closer, stroking her hair and nuzzling her neck to start our aftercare. Of course she’d make jokes after the best sex and most explosive orgasms we’ve experienced in our three years together. That means I did my job. She’s processing and no longer overwhelmed.
“Let’s get married now. I want to call you my wife as soon as possible.”
She sits up and turns to look at me, shock replacing the sex haze on her face. “ Right now , when your cum is still sticky on my thighs?” she questions.
“Tonight, tomorrow, as soon as we can make it happen in a way you’re happy with. I need you as my wife and I need to be your husband more than anything.”
Talk about post-nut clarity. I came so hard I realized I don’t want a fiancée. I need to start this chapter of our lives immediately.
“What about my family, the dress, and all the traditional things that weddings need?” She worries her lip until I pull it free.
“What about us is traditional?” I challenge. “Our relationship started out fake to appease my family. We have the kinkiest sex life and you’re my collared sub, calling me Daddy while I use your perfect set of holes like the fucktoy you are. You wrote an anonymous gossip blog calling my family out on bullshit with our business for years before you were finally outed for it while dating me. None of that screams white chapel wedding with a reception at a country club where Meemaw leaves before the DJ starts playing Ludacris, but I’ll do anything you want if it makes you happy.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need any of that.” Her lashes lower and she peeks up at me like she’s sharing something secret. “I do want a pretty dress and a delicious cake and the location to be meaningful to us, though. What about at the lakehouse? Just our families and closest friends. A ceremony at sunset and a reception by the pool.” She sounds wistful like she’s thought about this.
“That’s perfect.” I can see the picture she’s painted and I want that, knowing it’ll make her happy. “What’s our first dance song?” She’s probably thought of that, also. She begins to shiver now that we’ve cooled down. I reach for my jacket and pull it over her like a blanket.
“‘Never Let Me Go’ by Florence and the Machine,” she answers softly. I’m vaguely familiar with the song, but if she likes it, it’s perfect. Hell, I’d dance with her to a banjo rendition of a Taylor Swift song if she asked me to.
“I like the way that sounds. A lakeside wedding with you in a beautiful dress in front of the people we love.”
“And cake.”
“Can’t forget the cake. Chocolate, I assume?”
“Of course.” She stiffens against me and I feel her hard-earned relaxation fleeing. “God, there are so many details and things to consider even if we do it quick and simple.” Anxiety pitches her voice higher.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll have a team on it tonight if you want. The only thing you need to do is make sure the dress you want to wear fits. I think Paige has a place she loves that does fast work.”
“Haute Belle,” Ainsley says absently, picking at her cuticles. “ We could do this fast and not worry about the details? It would be everything we wanted without the stress?”
“Yes, my love. I’d make your dreams come true. Say the word and you’ll be my wife.”
She looks up at me with eyes full of trust. “I want to be your wife. Let’s do it.”
And that’s exactly what we do.