Chapter Thirty-Eight

Hunter

I open the door slowly.

While my living area and my office are decorated in mostly antiques that I finished myself, my bedroom is another story.

It’s more contemporary, done in stunning black lacquer rather than natural wood.

My king-size bed is covered in a navy-blue down comforter, and my chest of drawers is the same black lacquer as the headboard and footboard of my bed.

Frankie’s eyes widen.

“Surprised?” I ask.

“Yeah, a little. I was expecting an antique bedframe and maybe a wardrobe. Definitely a highboy.”

“I just redecorated this room,” I say. “Now that I’ve met you, I think I know why.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I hadn’t changed my bedroom at all since Teresa. I haven’t had a woman in my bedroom since Teresa. I kept my physical pleasures solely at the club. Then, a couple of months ago, for some reason, I had the desire to change my bedroom.”

“Did you have antiques in here before?”

“I did. A gorgeous cherry bedframe, and a high- and lowboy. But it always…”

“I get it. It always reminded you of her.”

“Yes and no. Yes, because she was the last woman I had here, and it was because of her that I turned off my emotions and decided to indulge purely in the physical. But I also decided not to have a woman here. So I kind of detached from the room. I figured it was a place to sleep. Not a place to have sex.”

“The fact that you changed it means you were rethinking that position.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure I was rethinking. But…it may have just meant that I was going to meet you.”

Her cheeks go pink, and my God she’s so beautiful.

“So you believe in premonitions, then?”

“No, of course not. But I can’t help but wonder if the universe was sending me a sign. That maybe I would meet someone I wanted to share this bedroom with.”

“And do you want to share it with me?”

“I do. I want to make love with you here, Frankie. That’s not to say I don’t plan to take you back to the club, because I do. But for the first time in a long time, I want to bring a woman home. To my bedroom.”

“Do you have any toys here?”

“I have a few. I got rid of most of them after Teresa. They were too much of a reminder.”

“That you’ve never used on her…” she prods.

“No, the ones that I still have I never used on anyone.”

“Do you want to use them on me?”

I draw in a deep breath, trying to slow the beating of my heart, the aching in my hard cock. “I do, Frankie. I want to bind you to the headboard of my bed, and I want to spread your legs and suck the delicious cream out of your pussy.”

She sucks in a breath.

“Does that turn you on?”

She nods, chewing on her lower lip.

“This isn’t a feeling I expected to have.” I walk toward her, glide my finger over her cheek. “I’m having feelings for the first time in a long time, Frankie. I’m not sure why or what it is about you. You’re beautiful, of course. You’re smart and engaging. But there’s something else. Something that seems to call to the inside of my heart.”

“I’m feeling something similar,” she says. “And honestly, I didn’t expect to, so soon after ending things with Penn.”

“So I’m not a rebound guy?”

“No, Hunter. I don’t think you are. Because if you were, I wouldn’t be feeling what I’m feeling.”

“You would just want the sex.”

“Right. And you know, we’ve only had sex twice despite the fact that we’ve known each other for several weeks now.”

“I’d like to go for number three. Here. Tonight.”

She sighs softly. The sound goes straight to my throbbing cock.

“Please,” she says. “Please, Hunter. Make love to me.”

Oh, that magic word.

Please.

I walk to my dresser and open the top drawer. I pull out leather bindings. They’re actually safer than handcuffs.

“Undress.”

“Will you undress?” she asks. “I’ve never seen you. I’ve never seen your body.”

“I’ll decide whether I undress, Frankie. I’m the Dominant here.”

“Okay. Whatever you say, Hunter.”

“Good. Good answer.”

Normally I’d tell her to call me “sir,” but I love hearing my name from Frankie’s lips.

I take in her face, her smile, her beautiful hair that flows over her shoulders, that sumptuous body, and her dress that clings to her body. “Undress for me. Now.”

She leaves her pumps on. Good—she remembers. She peels the dress from her shoulders, easing it over her chest, and those luscious tits spring free.

Then she pushes it down over her flat belly, her slim hips, her milky thighs. Until it’s on the floor and she steps out of it.

She wears only a black thong now, and she turns around and seductively wiggles her ass at me.

My cock grows harder, especially as I remember spanking those creamy cheeks.

“Don’t be a tease, Frankie.”

She turns back around and faces me, her gorgeous nipples hard and ready to be bitten. “Am I a tease?” she asks innocently.

“I think it might be better if you don’t talk.”

“Really?”

I yank her toward me, sit down on the bed, and pull her over my knee, bringing my palm down on that beautiful ass.

“Oh!” she cries out.

I slap her again, this time on the other cheek.

Then I watch as the sweet pink bursts forth from her dilated capillaries.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” I growl.

She opens her mouth but then closes it abruptly.

Good girl.

I pull her up, kiss her lips, and then set her on the bed. “I believe I will undress for you, Frankie. I’ll undress for you, stand before you naked, and shove my cock down that sweet little throat of yours.”

She doesn’t react, which surprises me.

Is it possible she wants this as much as I do?

Then I remember… The first time we met, I told her I had a fantasy of her kneeling before me, her mouth spread open while I fucked it.

I’m about to make that fantasy come true for both of us.

I don’t have a spider gag at home, so she’ll have to hold her mouth open herself.

And honestly? Even though I love the look of a woman’s mouth being held open by a gag? A mouth feels so much better without it, because she can form her lips around my cock and increase the suction.

My God, I’m pulsating just thinking about it.

I need to calm down, breathe in, breathe out. If I don’t, I’ll explode way too soon.

Damn. I’m acting like a freaking schoolboy around her.

Does she even know her own sex appeal? She was with that dick for so long, I wonder if she does.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” I ask.

“Occasionally,” she says. Then she slaps her hand over her mouth.

“It’s okay. You may speak. I asked you a direct question.”

“Well, like I said, occasionally. Penn used to say I was pretty. Maybe once or twice he said ‘beautiful.’”

“He should’ve told you every day,” I say. “Every day, he should’ve woken up, looked at you, and wondered how he got so lucky.”

She sighs. That soft sound sets my dick on fire. “My God, Hunter. You take my breath away.”

And with those words from her mouth, another chunk of cement falls from my heart.

I could fall in love with this woman.

If I let my guard down, I could so easily fall in love with her.

“You’re beautiful too,” she says. “Did any of those women tell you that? Allison? Teresa?”

My cheeks warm. “Not really.”

“They should have.” She rakes her gaze over me. “That dark hair that’s just a little bit shaggy. Those gorgeous brown eyes that are nearly black. And your eyelashes, Hunter. Women pay good money to have eyelashes like that.”

“I assure you I’m nothing compared to you.” I unbutton my shirt, watching her gaze at me with desire in her eyes. I tease her a little this time. I go slowly, exposing my skin inch by inch.

Finally I part the two halves of the shirt, slide them over my shoulders, and let it fall to the ground.

It’s her turn to suck in a breath. “My God. You truly are beautiful. A work of art.”

Her words embarrass me a little. I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful. It’s not really a word I’d use to describe myself, or any other guy, for that matter. I unhook my belt, pull it out of my pants, and toss it onto the floor.

“Kneel before me,” I say.

She pauses a moment, but then she drops to her knees.

I should get a pillow for her knees. The small rug by my bed won’t give her much cushion, and her knees will begin to ache.

But I don’t.

Because I don’t want to stop.

I unbutton my pants, unzip them, slide them over my hips, along with my boxer briefs, and my dick springs out, so ready and willing, so throbbing and hot, and so ready.

She gapes at me.

“You know how large I am. I’ve been inside you, Frankie.”

“I know. It’s not the size, Hunter. It’s the beauty.”

Beauty. That word again.

No one’s ever said my cock is beautiful. Magnificent, yes. Never beautiful.

Of course, she shouldn’t be talking.

But already I know this relationship is different. I’ve been a demanding Dominant. Normally I don’t let my sub speak while we play. A lot of times I don’t allow her to touch me.

But here, now, I crave Frankie’s touch.

And that fear I’ve been feeling for so long? Fear at wanting what I shouldn’t want?

It’s dissipating.

Which of course leads to a new fear.

I don’t even know if she shares my proclivities. She’s curious, of course, but will she be able to be a full-blown sub? The kind of sub I desire?

I walk toward her, ready to shove my cock into her mouth, but before I do, I cup her cheeks, tilt her head so she’s meeting my gaze.

And I realize, as I look into those gorgeous silvery blue eyes, that it doesn’t matter what kind of sub she is or whether she turns out to be a sub at all.

All that matters is her.