Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(62)
He decided then and there he was headed straight back home to Marcie before dropping off the painting and hanging out with Nate. He’d press his soft brat into the mattress, bury himself balls deep inside her. No frills, no demands, other than being connected like that. At the moment, that was all he wanted. Then he’d make her lunch, and put together enough to feed Nate.
Cass was right. If it was Marcie, he would have made her walk twenty blocks and she wouldn’t have had a prayer of making it without climaxing. He would have fed off that desperation, as she became more and more helpless to control her acceleration to peak.
But then, he’d always been ten times the bastard of any of them. That was what made him the luckiest man of all. He wouldn’t ever forget that. It was his promise, to Cass, to Marcie…and to himself.
The Card Game
Rachel tested the temperature of the water with one extended hand, feeling the flutter of air off the flow. It also gave her the chance to turn her fingertips this way and that, to admire the manicure she’d obtained with Cass and Savannah earlier in the week. The pearlescent gloss had a simple white feather stroke on each nail. Very minimalist and yet organic, the kind of thing that she liked and was reflected in the mostly Japanese style décor of their home.
Jon had liked the manicure, too. Last night, he’d tied her wrists to the armrests of a wooden kitchen chair so he could study her nails as he knelt between her spread legs. He’d kissed each finger, both wrists. Worked his way down her arms, along the outer curves of her breasts. Pressed his mouth to her navel, then traveled down to her clit so he could lazily draw circles on it with his tongue. After he did that long enough that her hips were jerking up from the seat, he’d decided to run soft ropes over her upper thighs to hamper such movements.
He went back to teasing her clit, only this time he used a feather, and some kind of oil that made her shudder to remember it even now. He’d barely brushed it on before she was climaxing, straining so hard against her bonds he’d spent a lot of blissful aftercare time, massaging and soothing those abrasions.
Coming back to the present was a slow, dreamy glide. What was around her only added to the sensory pleasure of the memory. She loved the grotto Jon had built, turning the screened back patio under their deck into a water feature, such that she felt like she was stepping out of the house and into a secluded lagoon.
They’d visited an island retreat last year. The open-aired cottage had a private stretch of beach for a front view, and a grotto for a bathing area in back. The stone alcove provided subtle crevices for soap and shampoo. Multiple jets and falling water mixed together to create the best of both natural waterfall and modern-day shower. The liquid fell into the deep pool beneath the grotto’s shelter.
Upon their return, Jon had designed her one that naturally included a few tailor-made improvements. Such as embedded eye-bolts for restraints, and those multiple jets could be angled in some interesting directions. He’d also moved one of their large Japanese maples to form a canopy that started beneath the arch of the grotto and extended outward to drape over the pool. He’d attached drip lines to it so that when she wasn’t using the grotto for bathing, it could be a different kind of water feature.
When the drip lines were turned on, it created a gentle rainfall into the pool. She could curl up in one of the nearby lounge chairs and enjoy it while reading or catching up on her work stuff from either her yoga studio or physical therapy job. Periodically, she would look up from that to check on the daily busy antics of birds, squirrels, or an occasional deer or two in the backyard. Their mix of natural landscaping and Rachel’s garden was an inviting transition to the several acres of woods that surrounded the house.
This was her life today. Thinking of what it was now, versus what it had been, for so many years, she closed her eyes and leaned against the smooth bank of rocks. Jon had ensured they had no sharp edges. It was part of his wizardry, but not the most important part of it to her.
Proving what was, she felt his arms slide around her and melted back into his arms. His mouth found her throat above the banded silver wire collar she wore, evidence of her Master’s ownership. She always wore it at home.
“Aren’t you supposed to be kneeling?” he asked.
“You arrived early.” She smiled as he dropped a hand and gave her bare ass a pinch, then she bit her lip as his clever fingers slid forward over her smooth cunt and stroked. Petted her for the simple pleasure of touch, rather than a probing demand for sexual response, though it accomplished both ends.
“Mouthy sub. I decided I’d much rather take a shower with you sooner than later. The alternative is fighting with that engineering disaster Peter dropped on my desk Friday. Save me from college-trained engineers who don’t have enough mechanical experience to change a tire. I can get ten times better drafting work out of the plant foremen who actually know how something is machined.”
He cupped her breasts. “Good thing I have an obedient sub to distract me from my frustrations.”
She dropped her head back, pressing her ass against the front of his jeans. Since it was the weekend, he wore them and a worn, button-down shirt he’d never buttoned, because he’d gotten distracted earlier in the day. At breakfast he’d come up with some idea and disappeared into his workshop muttering to himself, making her smile into her tea.
She could go see him at any time, and he’d welcome her company, but she liked giving him his space and time to pursue his projects. She worked in the garden, or on her painting, since she was taking a watercolors class. Sometimes she meditated, watched a favorite TV program, called and chatted with Dana… No matter what she was doing, and he was doing, she felt connected to him.