From the corner of my eye, I catch her wince. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I just wanted to see you dominate, is all.”
“I can dominate you later tonight if that’s what you need, baby.”
Her hand squeezes around mine. “I guess that will do,” she says playfully.
“Glad I could accommodate.”
We sit in silence for a second before she asks, “What was my dad talking to you about?”
“You,” I answer. “He wants me to encourage you to go back to school.”
“Oh yeah? Are you going to?”
I stop at a red light and look over at her. “No, but I am going to say you need to do what you want to do with your life, despite what other people might want for you.”
“Uh-huh, and what do you want for me?”
“If I had it my way?” I point at my chest and start driving again. “You’d be naked, primed, and ready for me every time I get home.”
“So, your mistress?”
“I prefer the term sex wench.”
Her head tilts back as she laughs. “Oh, sorry about that. You want me to be your sex wench?”
“With a pussy like yours, yeah, I really fucking do.”
She chuckles, and I love seeing that smile on her face. “So where are we headed? I thought we weren’t supposed to be seen in public.”
I turn down a dark alleyway and say, “Don’t worry, no one will see us.” I park in front of a back door, and when she glances over at me, I can see the trepidation in her eyes. “Trust me?”
“Of course,” she says.
“Then follow me.” We both get out of the car and meet at the front of the hood. I take her hand and then walk up to the door where I knock on it.
A slot at the top opens up, and a man takes me in. “Mr. Posey,” he says. “Good game tonight.”
“Thank you,” I say as he opens the door and gestures down a long, barely lit hallway.
Wylie clings close to me, and as we make our way down, she whispers, “Is this a sex dungeon?”
“No.” I laugh as we reach a door where we’re greeted by a balding man with a thick mustache.
“Mr. Posey.” He shakes my hand. “I’m Harold and will be assisting you. We’re so pleased to have you with us tonight.”
“Call me Levi,” I say and follow Harold into another room, this one much smaller and with a table and three chairs. In the center of the table is a large velvet box. Wylie looks all sorts of confused, so I turn toward Harold and ask, “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.” Harold bows his head and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
Turning toward Wylie, I take her hand in mine and look her in the eyes. “I wanted to do something for you, something to show you my dedication and commitment to you. And now that I know how you feel about me . . .” I turn her hand over and draw a circle on her palm. “I want to give you something that says that you’re mine. If you’re open to it, of course. I won’t be offended if you’re not ready for anything like that but—”
“I’d love it,” she says with a smile, probably sensing my nerves because fuck, am I nervous.
I want this, I know I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about what she might think about it. That she might think it’s a horrible idea and want nothing to do with it.
“You . . . you do?” I ask, hope springing in my chest.
She cups my cheek and says, “Yes, I’m yours, Levi. If you want to give me something to represent that, then please, give it to me.”
Fuck, I love this woman.
So damn much.
I lean my forehead against hers and press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’m so relieved to hear that.” Then I tug her onto my lap where she fits comfortably. She plays with the hairs on the back of my neck as she beams down at me.
“Why are you relieved? You were there when I said I love you.”
“I know,” I say. “But remember, this is all new for me.”
“This is new for me too,” she says. “And we’ll go through it together. But yes, whatever you have waiting for me, I want it. I want you.”
“Good,” I say as I reach for the velvet box. “Because I really want you to have these.” I open the velvet box revealing quite a few gold and silver bracelets, all incredibly thin.
“Oh my gosh,” she says as she looks through them. “Are these . . . bracelets?”
“Yes,” I say.
“But they don’t have clasps.”
“Because they’re permanent bracelets,” I say. I look her in the eyes. “It’s a way of me being able to tell people that you’re mine.” I pick one up. “You can take your pick. Some are generic, but there’s one with my initials intertwined into the design and one with my number. If you don’t like them, I can always get you something else. Maybe something less permanent—”
“I love these,” she says as she studies the one with my initials closely. “It’s beautiful. And the one with your number . . . and maybe this one.” She picks up a generic one, but they look amazing together when she places them on her wrist. And because the number and initials are so subtle, her dad won’t even know. “I love these so much. Am I allowed to get three?”
Relief washes through me as I say, “Get as many as you want, Wylie.”
She pauses for a moment and gives them a long look. She even moves some around, grouping them together to see what works best. After a few minutes, she settles with the original three and cups my cheek.
“I love these so much. Thank you, Levi.”
“Of course.” I rub my hand up and down her back. “I’m glad you like them.”
I lean in and offer her a kiss, which she takes, and I get lost in her mouth for a moment. I forget about the responsibilities around us, the trouble with her father, and the idea that all of this could be taken away with one wrong move.
Instead, I revel in the feel of her arms around me, in the passion in her kiss, in the gratefulness and love in her eyes.
When she pulls away, she tugs on my bottom lip with her thumb and says, “I’m so sucking your dick tonight.”
I let out a roar of a laugh just as there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I call out.
Harold walks in and asks, “Are you ready?”
“We are,” I say. “Wylie has picked three bracelets.” Harold walks over to the right of the room where there’s a small side table that he rolls close to us.
“Wonderful, and she understands they’re permanent?”
“She does,” I say, looking into Wylie’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t want them any other way,” she says, giving me another kiss that I gladly take.
“I love them,”Wylie says as we lie in bed, naked.
The moment we got home, she led me straight back to the bedroom where she tied my hands up—which I fucking loved—and pulled out my favorite vibrator. She made it pulse against my balls as she stood above me and stripped down to nothing in an erotic dance that had my dick bobbing for release.
She teased me by bringing her pussy to my mouth so I could lap at it, then she’d slide down my body, using her breasts to rub against my skin, and occasionally play with my cock. But she teased me, fucking terribly, with her mouth, her tongue, her hands. She brought me to my apex several times before stepping away and fingering herself, making herself come with one of my many toys. And then she’d start the process all over again, give me a small taste, rub her body over me, play with my cock, and pull away.
It was the best torture I’ve ever endured. I had precum all over my goddamn stomach, and when she finally let me come, she released my hands and let me come all over her tits and neck.
I was one happy motherfucker.
I run my finger over her bracelets and then kiss the top of her head. “I’m glad you like them. I like seeing them on you, knowing what they symbolize.”
She turns toward me and sits up so her chest rests on mine, and I can look her in the eyes. “Have you always been a possessive man?”
I push some of her hair behind her ear. “I think a part of me has. Protective instincts have always been there. But possessive over a woman, never. Not until you.”
She softly smirks. “Is it weird that I like that? That I enjoy the fact that you’ve never been with anyone else? But you find the need to be possessive over me?”
“No,” I say. “I think you like to be cherished, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I do like to be cherished. I like to feel special, and no one has made me feel that way besides you, Levi.”
“Which is fucking ridiculous,” I say. “All those idiots before me have no idea what they missed out on. Their loss, my gain.”
She moves her fingers over my chest, something I’ve come to love with her. She has no problem touching me intimately, showing me affection, and she communicates what she wants to do to me. I couldn’t have asked for anyone more perfect.
“I told Sandie about the bracelets.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “What did she say?”
“That I can’t ever let you go.”
I run my hand over her back and let it rest on her bare ass. “You need to keep Sandie around. She’s really smart.”
“She is.” She glances down at her finger playing with my chest hair as she says, “Are you going to tell your friends?”
“I want to,” I say. “It’s been killing me to keep this a secret. We’ve been playing together for a long time and tell each other everything. But this is different. I don’t think I’ve ever kept anything like this from them, but . . . I’m worried. I don’t want anything getting back to your dad.”
“I don’t either, but . . . I also want to figure this out because I don’t want to hide.”