“You know I can’t say I’m not interested.”
“Then why did you ask in the first place?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Because I wanted to know.”
“I’m not going to run off and leave you or ask for a divorce if you don’t want to play more often.”
We were interrupted by the waitress bringing our lunch. I was suddenly famished. The breakfast he’d fed me earlier was totally gone. I took a huge bite of the sandwich and glanced across the table to him.
“This sandwich is so good.” I nodded toward my plate, but from glancing at his, he’d ordered the same thing. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.
“Mmmm. Yes.”
We ate quietly for a few minutes. I was glad of the time to digest what he’d said, and I could tell Nathaniel was gathering his thoughts as well.
“Okay, so you’re not going to leave or get a divorce. But what would you have done if you’d felt this way years ago? Like when you were looking for a submissive?”
“I don’t think I can say for sure. So much of who I am is tied up in you and what we have. It wouldn’t be like that with just anyone.”
“True,” I said. “I’ll buy that.” I was comforted by his words, and ready to ask the harder questions. “Would you start off with more than just weekends?”
“Probably not. Dominance is a need for me, but I don’t want a twenty-four-seven submissive.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s take the rest of this week to think this through. I’ll come up with some ideas.”
“Thank you, Abby.”
* * *
“We aren’t going back to the hotel?” I asked, looking out the car window as we drove away from the restaurant. From what I could tell, we were headed in the opposite direction.
“No,” Nathaniel said. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. “You’ll have to be patient and wait to see where we’re going.”
“Men,” I mumbled under my breath.
He hadn’t put his collar back on me after lunch. I knew he hadn’t simply forgotten about it. He hadn’t recollared me for a reason. He also enjoyed teasing me. There was no doubt in my mind that he was thoroughly enjoying not telling me where we were going.
“It’s Delaware, right?” I asked. “It can’t be that earth-shattering.”
“Wait and see,” he said, eyes still closed.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Thank you.”
“I should have brought a book. I would have if I’d known we were going to spend half the day in the car.”
“We aren’t spending half the day in the car and even if we were, you’d get carsick.”
“True.” But it was fun being a brat sometimes. I glanced up, checking to be sure the glass divider between the back and front seats was up and the driver couldn’t hear us. “Too bad he can see us. If he couldn’t, we could find a way to make the time go by quicker.”
He finally cracked one eye open. “Are you bored?”
“No, just saying I might be by the time we get to wherever it is we’re going and that an orgasm or two would certainly make the trip go by faster.”
“You want an orgasm?” he asked in that you really shouldn’t have tone of voice.
“Um, maybe?”
“Oh, I think you do. So let’s take care of that. Right now.”
Exhibitionism I was into, but I really wasn’t sure I wanted our driver to see anything. “We just have to be careful. We can’t distract the driver and have him crash the car,” I said.
“Now you’re going to be all logical?” He shifted in his seat so he could see me better. “Let me worry about the details.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the details were.
“Normally, I’d just fuck you here in the backseat, but since you’re so worried about distracting the driver, I’ll have to give you an orgasm without touching you.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Now you want a fun orgasm? I thought you were only after a way to make the miles go by faster.”
“I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead.” Sassy was fun. Digging myself a hole to get out of was another thing entirely.
“I think that would be wise.”
So do I get an orgasm?
“The driver can’t see below your waist,” Nathaniel continued. “Lift the hem of your skirt and finger yourself.”
Oh, shit.
“I think I’m okay. Seriously. Don’t need an orgasm after all.” I looked out the window. “Look at that guy driving the motorcycle. He looks exactly how I pictured Santa when I was little. Minus the motorcycle, of course.”
“Unfortunately, you’ve goaded me into giving you an orgasm, so if you don’t have at least one in the car, I won’t let you have one the rest of the time we’re here.”
I gaped at him. “But that’s days!”
“Yes, I can do math. Maybe next time you’ll think before you speak.” He sounded smug. He knew there was no way I’d risk not having an orgasm for the remainder of our trip.
I still didn’t move.
“Lift the hem of your skirt and finger yourself. Now.”
I sighed, but raised the hem of my skirt so it came midway between my upper thighs.
“Higher,” he said.
I inched it up a tiny bit.
“Pull it up so I can see your pussy.”
I hiked it up so I was fully exposed. I glanced at the driver, but he was watching the road. From the way his head bobbed, I guessed he was singing along to the radio.
“There we go,” Nathaniel said. “Now finger yourself.”
I slid a tentative finger along my slit. Fuck, I needed some friction.
“Bet you’re so wet, my cock would slide right in.”
“Bet you’re right.”
“Close your eyes,” he said and his voice was firmer.
Public play was fun and it turned me on, but I liked having my sight. One of the areas I needed to work on was trusting him more in these type of scenes. I closed my eyes, but it took some effort on my part.
“Very nice,” he said. “You’re getting better.”
“Thank you, Sir. I want to please you.”
“You do,” he assured me. “Now, I want you to imagine we’re in the playroom. How are you situated?”
I loved it when he had me imagine a scene. I spoke the first image that came to my mind. “I’m bent over the whipping bench.”
“Interesting. Have you been naughty?”
“Yes, Sir. I called you a sadistic bastard after you wouldn’t let me come for a week.”
He laughed. “Then I’m going to have to be a little mean to that bare pussy.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, Sir.” Play and imaginary punishments were fun. Had I really been bent over the whipping bench for saying something like that, I wouldn’t be nearly as relaxed or as turned on as I was at the moment.
“I tell you to spread your legs wider,” he said, getting into the scene himself. “Expose yourself to me fully.”
I ran my finger along myself again, dipping a fingertip inside.
“What do I do to you, now that you’re at my mercy?”
“First of all, you spank my ass with the leather strap.” Fuck, there were times I thought I could come from just thinking about him taking the strap out.
“Yes,” he said. “And I make sure it’s nice and pink. I can feel the heat coming from your skin after. Then, just to prove your sadistic bastard comment, I bite each cheek and then place a kiss on it.”
“Ouch, that is bastardly.”
“Only because that’s what you called me.”
He spoke so smugly, I almost opened my eyes just to call him on it. But if I did, he might end the game and I was involved enough that I wanted to see where he took it.
“What do you do after the kisses?” I asked.
“Maybe I force you to have several orgasms.”
“That’s a mean on
e.” He’d done that a few times; it wasn’t my favorite. Being forced to have multiple orgasms was definitely an effective punishment tool.
“That would be the reason I used it. Or I could tell you not to come. Strap you down and use you only for my pleasure.”
I liked the sound of that better. I circled my clit. “Would you fuck me?”
“Definitely. I’d come up behind you, enter you with one stroke, and ride you until you wanted to come so bad you were crying. Fuck. I can imagine the feel of it.”
I could, too. His cock pounding into me tirelessly. My body spread out for his use. I circled my clit again. “Please, Sir. Let me come.”
“Not yet. I’m still having fun imagining all the ways I can fuck you.” There was a brief silence before he continued. “Maybe I pull my dick out, lube it up, and take your ass.”
“That would be painful after the strap.”
“Yes, but it’d all be for me, so I wouldn’t care. You’d be the one being punished.”
“Are you hard now, Sir?”
“So hard it’s painful, but I’m not going to drop my pants in the backseat of this car. I’ll deal with it.” He lightly brushed my knee and I jumped. “How are you doing?”
“Wishing it wasn’t my finger touching me.”
“Maybe so, but I’m certainly enjoying the show. Make yourself come. Let me watch.”
I worked my fingers faster. My interest renewed at the knowledge he watched and was turned on by it.
“Fuck yes, that’s hot,” he said as I pushed two fingers inside and rubbed my clit with my thumb.
“I’m pretending it’s your cock,” I panted.
“Right like that,” he whispered. “Stroke yourself again and know I’d push inside as hard and as deep as possible. Now come for me.”
His words spurred me on and with another pass of my fingers, I came with a shudder.
“Always so beautiful,” he said. “Love watching as pleasure takes over your body.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I sighed as the postorgasmic bliss swept over me.
“Of course, we still have a while to go before we get to our next stop.” There was mischief in his voice. “I could do this nonstop.”
“But you won’t since I’m really not being punished, right?” Being forced to make myself come was not how I wanted to spend the car ride.
“Mmm, probably not. You can open your eyes now.” He wore a wicked grin when I opened my eyes. “But I reserve the right to change my mind.”
Fortunately, he was only playing with my mind and he finally reached over and pulled my skirt down. With a wicked smile, he took my fingers and sucked and licked them clean. After he finished, he kept my hand in his. My body was warm and relaxed following lunch and my orgasm. My eyes began to droop and before long, I nodded off.
“We’re here,” Nathaniel said, shaking my shoulder gently.
I blinked awake. “We’re here?”
“Yes, too bad you fell asleep,” he teased, whispering in my ear. “I really wanted to make you come a few more times.”
I had no doubt if he really had wanted to that badly, he would have woke me up. But I loved him playing with my head.
I stretched leisurely. “Then I’m glad you let me rest, but I’m terribly curious about where we are.” I popped my head up to look around. “All I see is a parking lot. Cool, but you know, they have these in Wilmington.”
“Wench,” he joked, pushing me playfully. “I didn’t bring you here for a parking lot.”
He slipped out his side of the car and came around to open my door. He held out a hand. “Come here.”
I stepped out. “Nice parking lot.”
“You’re tempting me to put you back in the car and go with my multiple orgasm plan.” But he squeezed my hand and led me a few steps so I could see around the building we were near.
“What do you see?” he asked.
I looked around and stopped in my tracks. “Is that the ocean?”
“Yes.”
I threw my arms around him. “You brought me to the beach.”
“I thought you might miss it.”
I loved the fact that our estate was so close to the water, but it wasn’t until I saw the ocean that I realized how much missed not seeing it every day.
I stood just looking for a few minutes, until he finally said, “Come on.”
Hand in hand, we walked across the street toward the public access. A wooden boardwalk curved a path through tall beach grass and led to the most inviting-looking sand.
“We should have brought our bathing suits,” I said as we made our way onto the sand.
“But that would have given my plan away.”
We were at a quiet end of the beach, and there were only a few people near us. We kicked off our shoes and I dug my toes into the sand, enjoying the feeling of being barefoot.
“Wait a minute,” he said when I would have started walking toward the ocean. He held my collar in his hand. “You’re missing something.”
I bowed my head as he fastened it around my neck. He pulled back and gave me a kiss. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Master.”
We strolled down to the water’s edge and dipped our toes into the surf. I inhaled deeply. “I love the sea air.”
“It’s so refreshing.”
A family of four—mother, father, and two little boys—jogged by us, trying desperately to get a kite airborne. The youngest boy looked to be Elizabeth’s age and he brought up the end, yelling, “Go, kite. Go!”
All the yelling in the world didn’t help though and the kite never made it more than a few inches off the ground.
I shook my head. “I always sucked at that. Never could get the hang of flying a kite.”
His gaze followed the family and his expression grew wistful. “I remember flying a kite with my dad. He was the best, never had any trouble. Mom used to laugh at us because we’d be in the backyard weaving in and out of the trees. She always said she didn’t know how he managed not to get it stuck. I told her it was magic.”
My heart ached as it often did when he spoke of his parents. Even after all these years, it still hurt to think of the boy Nathaniel was and how it must have been when he lost his parents.
“I imagine it was pretty tough not to get the kite tangled up in the trees,” I said.
“Yes. They weren’t quite as tall as they are now, but they were tall enough.” He turned back to me, his expression still somber. “I never flew a kite again after they died.”
I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Words were unnecessary and couldn’t change anything or bring them back. In that moment