The Exhibitionist (The Submissive #6) Page 6

  I walked into the bedroom and my mouth went dry at the sight of my nightstand.

  Usually bare except for a lamp, it now also had my black leather collar on top.

  Yes.

  After our first trip to Wilmington, we’d decided to make a few changes. Up until then, we’d only been playing about once a month. Compared to how often I wore his collar before the kids, it felt like a rare occurrence and we both agreed we weren’t fully satisfied. Now I wore his collar every weekend, with necessary low-protocol times built in because of the day-to-day routines with the children. With the move and settling in, he hadn’t collared me yet this weekend.

  But one of the other things we’d agreed to was the ability for one of us to ask for playtime during the week. Nathaniel’s method for letting me know he wanted to move into our Dominant/submissive roles was to place my collar on my nightstand.

  Though I had the ability to turn him down if I wanted, saying no tonight didn’t even cross my mind. Just the sight of my collar on the nightstand had me desperate to kneel before him and sent waves of arousal through my body.

  If I decided I wanted his collar, his request that I slip into something more comfortable really meant “get naked.” My fingers trembled with excitement as I unbuttoned my shirt and pushed my jeans down. Once undressed, I knelt in the middle of the room and waited.

  He entered minutes later.

  “Very nice,” he said. “I see you liked my suggestion.”

  “I decided it was much better than staying downstairs.”

  He laughed quietly and walked to the nightstand to get my collar. “I thought I might let you come finally, but that it would be on my terms if I did.” He buckled the collar around my neck. “Kiss my feet in thanks.”

  I slid forward and brushed my lips across first one foot and then the other. “Thank you, Master,” I said before moving back into my waiting position.

  “So polite this evening. Someone must really want to come.”

  I didn’t say anything. I believed that was fairly obvious.

  “Get on the bed. Face the headboard and hold on to it.”

  I moved quickly while still trying to be graceful and seductive. As I settled into position, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror to the right of the bed. I turned and watched as he got behind me.

  It turned me on like nothing else to watch him take me. To observe while at the same time feeling his possession. I groaned just thinking about it.

  He pushed down on my shoulders a bit, kicked my knees apart. The entire time I watched him in the mirror. He situated me the way he wanted and then caught my gaze.

  “You like seeing me get you into the position I want?” he asked. “Making sure your body is accessible and open for me?”

  “The only thing better is watching you actually take me, Master.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed. “I think we need mirrors in the playroom.”

  “I like that idea, Master.”

  “I thought you might, you wicked girl.” He rocked his hips against me but didn’t enter me yet. He cupped my backside and squeezed. “I want you to imagine something with me.”

  I was so impatient for him to fuck me, but I knew if I did as he instructed, it would be so much better in the end.

  “See yourself in the mirror?” he asked. I lifted my head and took in what I saw. Naked, bent over, and waiting for him to take me. I thought I looked sexy as hell. Of course, that was due in part to him. On his knees behind me with that look in his eyes, he made the very air in the room feel sexy. “See?”

  “Yes, Master,” I said.

  “Imagine we’re in front of a group of people. That you’re bent over and begging to be fucked in front of a group. Do you see what they would see?” He slapped my ass. “Do you?”

  “Yes, Master.” I could easily picture the three men we’d played in front of in Delaware months ago. Simon, Jeff, and a Dom I only knew as Master DeVaan.

  He slipped a finger inside me, ensuring that I was ready. “What do they see?”

  My eyes locked on our image in the mirror. He moved closer to me, cock in hand, and oh so slowly, pressed forward. Before us, we both watched as he entered me.

  “They see you, Master,” I said. “They see you taking me. Ohhh, fuck. Yes.”

  “You feel so damn good.” He ran his hands over my back, cupped my breasts, and stroked down to my hips. His fingers dug into my flesh as he held tight to my waist and thrust fully inside.

  I couldn’t tear my gaze from the mirror and I watched him pump in and out. In my mind, there were more than the three men watching. There were lots more and many were strangers. Watching Nathaniel move inside me turned them on.

  “They can’t keep their eyes off you. How your pussy takes my cock. Spreading to take it all. The men wish they could feel how tight you are.” His hips moved in a slow rhythmic stroke, going deep and retreating. “I’m fucking you slowly to give them more time to picture it. Love watching you stretch so you can take my dick. Next time I’m fucking your ass and I’ll have you watch that.”

  My body shivered at the thought. I loved watching him use my body for his pleasure and was certain watching him take me there would be a complete turn-on.

  “You like that idea, Abigail?” he asked, and instead of waiting for an answer, he picked up his pace. “But the truth is, no matter how vividly they imagine it, it’ll never compare to the real thing.” He paused, worked himself deeper, and then started again with short strokes.

  I arched my back, trying to get more of him inside me. When that didn’t work, I moved my hips in time with his thrusts. But he was still holding back.

  “Hold still,” he said. “See how my cock’s claiming you? Do you feel it?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He positioned himself for better balance and I knew I was in trouble. His eyes met mine in the mirror. “Hold on.”

  I took a tighter grip on the headboard. He pulled out just a bit and then thrust into me hard and deep and it felt so good. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips.

  It was all the encouragement he needed. He withdrew again and pulled my hips to meet his thrusts. “Eyes open and on the mirror. Watch me ride you.”

  I shifted my eyes to our reflection, and the sight of him working his hips to get as far inside me as possible, the way his muscles flexed, his entire body moving with one goal, was almost enough to send me over the edge.

  He was beyond talking now, his entire being focused on his body and what it wanted. My orgasm continued to build and I looked at where our bodies joined. He was hard and long and the sight of him pounding into me, and the way I opened for him, was quite possibly the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. His hands gripped my hips even harder as he repeatedly drove into me. He held still and shifted his hips again, hitting the spot he knew would set me off. He spoke only one word.

  “Beg.”

  “Please, Master, let me come. Please. Please.”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh … holy … fuck!” I panted, and my orgasm, so long denied, crashed over me, shaking my body. It seemed to last forever, rolling through me in wave after wave. I savored every second of it, transported in a way I hadn’t been before. When my breathing calmed, I whispered, “Thank you, Master. Thank you.”

  “I’m going to come so hard.” He was still pumping in and out of me. “Turn around. I want you to swallow.”

  He pulled out and I barely had time to turn around before he pushed me down on the bed and within seconds, he thrust himself into my open mouth.

  “Yes,” he hissed. He pumped in and out two or three more times and then held still. “Fucking swallow all of it.”

  I gulped hard, not wanting to spill anything. He finally stopped coming and slipped from my mouth. With a heavy sigh, he lowered himself down to the bed and took me in his arms.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

  “I think I will install mirrors in the playroom
.”

  “I like that idea, Master. But you know, the mirrors were hot and it was a turn-on watching, but the real thing is hotter.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “That wasn’t real? Because I feel like I ran half a marathon.”

  “Not that part, Master. I mean the part about people watching.”

  He smiled and pushed the hair out of my eyes. “Little did I know when I took you at the Super Bowl that you would turn into such an exhibitionist.”

  “I like it when people watch, Master.”

  “Yes, I’m learning you like it very much.”

  I settled back into his arms. “The Super Bowl, the men in Delaware, the play parties. Especially the parties at our house, Master. I like it all. There’s something about being watched, but knowing no one can touch me, that is such a turn-on.”

  “Tell me,” he said, and his voice was serious. “Is a threesome something you want to experience? Something like the afternoon we had Jeff over, but with the third being more active?”

  I had to think about that. The novels I read made it sound interesting and hot and fun. I’d enjoyed the afternoon Jeff was invited to play with us. But that was a long cry from someone other than Nathaniel touching me sexually.

  “I don’t think so,” I answered honestly. “I don’t think I’m ready for more than just you at the moment. Right now, this very second, there’s only one Dom I want to serve and only one Dom I want to control me.”

  “You’ll let me know if you change your mind?”

  “Of course.”

  We stayed silent for a few minutes. His hand stroked slowly up and down my arm and I turned my head to kiss his shoulder. He lifted my chin and captured my lips with his. His mouth was so strong and yet he somehow managed to convey his love and adoration with his kiss. I turned, facing him, and wrapped my arms around him, kissing him again.

  He moved forward, lowering me to the bed, his hands moving to my neck and unbuckling the collar.

  “Wait,” I said. “I thought—”

  “Not this time,” he whispered against my lips.

  “Why?”

  “Because I decided that what I want to do now is make love to my wife.”

  He had never uncollared me so quickly and I wondered for a second if our talk about threesomes had been what changed his mind. Then he lowered his head and peppered kisses along the top of my breasts and I decided whatever changed his mind wasn’t important.

  He was strong and commanding as my Dominant, but he was equally as passionate and loving as my husband and lover. Nights like this, when he took me slow and gently, almost reverently, weren’t very common, but I loved them just as much as when he took control of our joining. Either way, my body was always hungry for him.

  Right before he entered me, he switched positions. “Ride me, Abby.”

  And though being on top wasn’t my favorite, I moved to straddle him and lowered myself onto his cock.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “All feminine and strong.”

  He took hold of my waist, but unlike the way he held me before, this time his hands were gentle. His goal wasn’t to control, but to simply touch me.

  “I could watch you forever,” he said. “I’ll never grow tired of seeing you.”

  “Good thing,” I said. “I’m never going anywhere.”

  I moved up and down on him, mesmerized by his expression. His eyes were filled with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Lust, certainly, but something that spoke of his love and warmed me. Then he moved his hands up and fondled my breasts.

  “Every inch of you is gorgeous,” he whispered sweetly, and I continued to move on him, working my hips to get the most friction where I wanted it. When he threw his head back and arched his back, I knew I’d hit the right spot.

  “I love watching you in this mood, too,” I said. “Seeing you take a different kind of pleasure in me.” I stopped speaking as my orgasm built and concentrated only on the heat that came from our joined bodies.

  “You make me come so hard.” His voice was a strained combination of lust, love, and desire. He reached down and played with my clit. “I want to see how hard you come.”

  His hand was what I needed to push me over the cliff of my approaching orgasm. I sucked in a breath and let it wash over me. Nathaniel wasn’t far behind and he came seconds after I did.

  Afterward, he pulled me down and kissed me. “I love you,” he said, spooning himself behind me.

  “Love you, too.”

  “Does Nathaniel have the kids?” Dena asked the next Saturday as she drove us to Julie and Sasha’s floral shop, the Petal Pushers. She’d called earlier in the day to invite me to go with her for lunch.

  “Yes. They’re going to explore our land some more. Last time they went out, he showed them our apple trees.”

  “Your kids are great.” Dena’s hand swept across her belly.

  “You’ll be exploring with your own before you know it.”

  “It’s hard to picture it. I’m still trying to decide what I want to do about my job after the baby comes.”

  “You still have time,” I assured her.

  “Yes, and I’m grateful I have the option to stay at home if I want to. I know not everyone has that.”

  “You and Jeff will find what works best for you and your family,” I said to her.

  “It’s scary to think about the future. I’m so afraid we’ll make all these plans and I’ll lose this one as well.”

  “When you have thoughts like that, you need to remember what’s true. The ultrasounds have been positive and the doctors have all said there’s no reason to expect that whatever caused your loss before will affect this pregnancy.”

  She nodded, but I knew she wasn’t convinced. And there wasn’t anything anyone could do or say to change that. Anyone in her position would worry, and only time and giving birth to a healthy baby would calm her fears.

  A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of a storefront building in the downtown area of Wilmington. The display window was filled with white and light pink flowers, a reminder to those passing by that wedding season was approaching.

  “I didn’t realize it was a restored building,” I said.

  “Sasha said they were able to negotiate a great price because the seller didn’t want to deal with any of the repairs.” She pointed above the front door. “They actually own the second floor as well. Sasha’s living there.”

  I opened the door and held it for Dena. When we went inside, we found a large room filled with light and the colors and scents of beautiful flowers. Julie sat in front of a computer and Sasha sat beside her.

  They looked up as the door chime announced our arrival.

  “Dena, hey. And, Abby. I wasn’t expecting you.” Julie moved out from behind the counter and gave us hugs.

  Sasha stood and came over to where we were. She was shorter than Julie and her dark hair was styled with spikes. A hard wind would have blown her away. She was so thin she looked gaunt.

  I held out my hand. “Hey, Sasha.”

  “Nice to see you again,” she said, shaking my hand.

  “Everything going well?” I asked, and she nodded.

  Dena gave Sasha a hug. “Let’s just eat here instead of going out. I’ll order pizza. That’s what I’m craving today.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “As long as it’s decent. I haven’t had decent pizza since we left New York.”

  “Are you a pizza snob?” Julie asked.

  “After living in New York City for years, I’m most definitely a pizza snob,” I answered. “I’m not a snob about most things, but I can’t take bad pizza.”

  Dena shook her head. “No worries, my first date with Jeff was at an Italian restaurant and they have wonderful pizza. Trust me.”

  “We can go upstairs and eat once it’s delivered,” Sasha said. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

  Thirty minutes later, we sat in Sasha’s apartment, eating a delicious lunch. Julie and
Dena were as jovial as ever, but Sasha was more withdrawn. I wondered if it was because I was there or if she was still suffering from depression because of what had happened with the bullwhip.

  “Everyone going to the play party next weekend?” Julie asked.

  Dena had a silly grin on her face. “Yes, your place, right?”

  Julie giggled. “My place, I like that.”

  “I knew you would,” Dena said. “Jeff and I will be there.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said.

  “I’m thinking about going.” Sasha spoke with trepidation and all three of us looked at her. “What? I talked with my therapist. I’m not ready to play or anything. Hell, I don’t even want to date. But I think it’s time for me to go to a party.”

  “Have you spoken to any senior members about it?” Julie asked.

  “Does Dena being here and listening to me count?”

  “Probably not,” Julie said with a raised eyebrow to Dena.

  “We talked about it briefly when I came by a week or so ago,” Dena said. “But I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d be interested in attending this soon.”

  “What are the concerns about Sasha attending?” I asked.

  “The last time she went, she had a panic attack,” Julie said.

  Sasha shot a glare at Julie. “That was months ago.”

  I couldn’t tear my focus away from the two friends. Since we would be joining the group, I was particularly interested in Julie’s reaction to Sasha mentioning attending. And, I’d admit, I felt a bit like a mother hen, especially toward Julie, what with her being so new to the lifestyle.

  Julie walked to where Sasha sat on the couch and knelt before her, taking her hands in hers. “You showed up at my house after, crying, shaking, and told me you were never going back. I sat by your side for weeks with you giving only one-word, yes-or-no answers. I love you like a sister and I finally have you back. I’m scared if you go to the party, the real you will disappear again.”

  “The real me won’t return until I reclaim that part of my life.”

  “What if going sets you back another three months?”

  “What if it doesn’t?” Sasha squeezed Julie’s hands. “Don’t you see, I have to find out. I have to try. I see you and Daniel and how happy you are and I think, That’s due in part to me. I’m the one who urged you to join the group and I’ve watched you grow into a satisfied submissive and find peace with it. So call me jealous or greedy or whatever you want, but I had that once and I want it back. I need it back.”