It was a message, I realized. Take it. You take what I give. I decide, he was saying. I decide who you see. I decide where you go. I decide if you move. I decide if you breathe.
I got it. I stopped fighting.
He released me. He even let me take a break, catch my breath. For barely a few seconds, though. Then he drove back in.
This time, he allowed himself to enjoy it, no longer proving a point. Holding my head in place, he fucked my mouth. “Like that,” he told me, his voice rough and threadbare. “Just like that.”
His strokes were deep and fast and demanding, but no longer a message. Now he spoke what he wanted me to hear in raspy clipped phrases. “It’s hard to forget about me now. Isn’t it? When I’m balls deep. In your mouth. When I’m throbbing. Against your tongue. When I’m using you. The way you’re made to be used.”
“Mm-hmm,” I moaned against his rod. I was made for exactly this. To please men like him. To please him. I wanted this. Even as his thrusts became erratic and his tip knocked against the back of my throat, I wanted to give. Wanted him to take. Wanted him to use me. Wanted him to see that I did know my place. Wanted him to see that I liked my place.
It excited me even. I was desperate to have him finish. Have him explode in my mouth. I’d swallow it all, lick up every drop knowing it would be a gift. I was wet and aroused in anticipation of sucking him to the very end.
But, just when I was certain he was about to come, he pushed me off of him.
I tried to reclaim him, but he put one hand on top of my head to keep me still and used the other to jack himself to the finish. When he came, he aimed it at my breasts, covering me with his milky seed, bathing me in long spurts of cum. Marking me. Claiming me. Reminding me once more that I was his. Telling me loud and clear that he expected that I act like it first and foremost from now on.
He didn’t let me clean him up. It was a punishment, after all, and he denied me even this gift, picking up my shirt to wipe the last beads off of his cock instead.
It only turned me on more.
“Maybe now you can remember who you belong to,” he said, as he tucked himself back into his suit pants, in case I hadn’t gotten the memo.
I pinned my eyes to the floor. “I remember.”
“My dinner plans could take a short time or could take several hours. Regardless, you’ll be waiting for me in my bed by ten. It would be preferable that you’re naked.”
My head jerked up. “I’m not going to dinner with you?”
He was standing at the mirror by the front door, straightening his hair and tie. “No. You’re not.”
I scrambled to my feet, ready to beg for him to change his mind. I needed to meet his ranch staff, but it was more than that. I needed him to claim me to others as completely as he’d claimed me in private. I needed to prove I could be his in the way he wanted me to be.
But before I could voice my plea, he turned back to me. “How would it look that you were at one man’s house in the afternoon and then at dinner with me? It will look like I can’t keep my woman in control. Until you can act accordingly, I can’t claim you publicly as mine.”
Everything inside me deflated. His declaration proved he knew me well. He knew what I wanted and he refused to give it. This was the true punishment of the afternoon. This was the thing meant to hurt me most, and it did.
He put his hand on the doorknob but paused to say, “And, Emily, clean up, but don’t get yourself off. I know you want to, but it’s for me to decide if you deserve it. Right now you don’t.”
He left, and I knew he was right. I didn’t deserve it.
CHAPTER 20
I took a long shower to clean up and cry. Mixed with the hot burst of water that fell over me from the nozzle, my tears were easier to ignore. I kept my eyes closed and put my face in the stream so the salt-laced drops would wash away. If I tasted them, I’d have to acknowledge them. If I acknowledged them, I’d have to acknowledge their source.
The water was cold by the time I’d finished, but I still had a few hours before I went to Reeve’s. I poured a glass of wine. I nibbled at a salad. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I gathered myself and headed out. It wasn’t yet seven, but he’d said to be in his bed by ten. Waiting in his room, surrounded by his smell and his things, was better than waiting at home alone.
I needed gas so I stopped at the Corner Mart and went inside for an iced coffee. After filling a cup, I stopped to peruse the magazine aisle, chewing on my straw as I picked out familiar faces on the covers. Someone came up behind me and without looking up, I stepped forward to let the person pass but instead he just moved in closer to me. Too close.
I went rigid.
Heavy breath came at my neck followed by a low whisper at my ear. “If you’re being watched, don’t turn around. Just nod.”
I spun to face him. “Jesus, Joe. You scared the shit out of me.” Paranoid that maybe I’d been followed by Reeve, and not wanting to be seen with Joe, I glanced out the window, looking for the black car from earlier. Over my shoulder, I asked, “What are you doing here, anyway?”
Joe picked up a Hollywood Star and began flipping through it. “I wanted to make sure you were all right after Sallis left you today.”
Great, now I had two people following me. “I’m fine. I told you I was fine. Everything is fine.” A person who was really fine probably wouldn’t have to say it so many times.
“So you said. But I needed to verify that your ‘fines’ weren’t coerced. It was the responsible thing to do.”