He had never uncollared me so quickly and I wondered for a second if our talk about threesomes had been what changed his mind. Then he lowered his head and peppered kisses along the top of my breasts and I decided whatever changed his mind wasn’t important.
He was strong and commanding as my Dominant, but he was equally as passionate and loving as my husband and lover. Nights like this, when he took me slow and gently, almost reverently, weren’t very common, but I loved them just as much as when he took control of our joining. Either way, my body was always hungry for him.
Right before he entered me, he switched positions. “Ride me, Abby.”
And though being on top wasn’t my favorite, I moved to straddle him and lowered myself onto his cock.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “All feminine and strong.”
He took hold of my waist, but unlike the way he held me before, this time his hands were gentle. His goal wasn’t to control, but to simply touch me.
“I could watch you forever,” he said. “I’ll never grow tired of seeing you.”
“Good thing,” I said. “I’m never going anywhere.”
I moved up and down on him, mesmerized by his expression. His eyes were filled with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Lust, certainly, but something that spoke of his love and warmed me. Then he moved his hands up and fondled my breasts.
“Every inch of you is gorgeous,” he whispered sweetly, and I continued to move on him, working my hips to get the most friction where I wanted it. When he threw his head back and arched his back, I knew I’d hit the right spot.
“I love watching you in this mood, too,” I said. “Seeing you take a different kind of pleasure in me.” I stopped speaking as my orgasm built and concentrated only on the heat that came from our joined bodies.
“You make me come so hard.” His voice was a strained combination of lust, love, and desire. He reached down and played with my clit. “I want to see how hard you come.”
His hand was what I needed to push me over the cliff of my approaching orgasm. I sucked in a breath and let it wash over me. Nathaniel wasn’t far behind and he came seconds after I did.
Afterward, he pulled me down and kissed me. “I love you,” he said, spooning himself behind me.
“Love you, too.”
“Does Nathaniel have the kids?” Dena asked the next Saturday as she drove us to Julie and Sasha’s floral shop, the Petal Pushers. She’d called earlier in the day to invite me to go with her for lunch.
“Yes. They’re going to explore our land some more. Last time they went out, he showed them our apple trees.”
“Your kids are great.” Dena’s hand swept across her belly.
“You’ll be exploring with your own before you know it.”
“It’s hard to picture it. I’m still trying to decide what I want to do about my job after the baby comes.”
“You still have time,” I assured her.
“Yes, and I’m grateful I have the option to stay at home if I want to. I know not everyone has that.”
“You and Jeff will find what works best for you and your family,” I said to her.
“It’s scary to think about the future. I’m so afraid we’ll make all these plans and I’ll lose this one as well.”
“When you have thoughts like that, you need to remember what’s true. The ultrasounds have been positive and the doctors have all said there’s no reason to expect that whatever caused your loss before will affect this pregnancy.”
She nodded, but I knew she wasn’t convinced. And there wasn’t anything anyone could do or say to change that. Anyone in her position would worry, and only time and giving birth to a healthy baby would calm her fears.
A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of a storefront building in the downtown area of Wilmington. The display window was filled with white and light pink flowers, a reminder to those passing by that wedding season was approaching.
“I didn’t realize it was a restored building,” I said.
“Sasha said they were able to negotiate a great price because the seller didn’t want to deal with any of the repairs.” She pointed above the front door. “They actually own the second floor as well. Sasha’s living there.”
I opened the door and held it for Dena. When we went inside, we found a large room filled with light and the colors and scents of beautiful flowers. Julie sat in front of a computer and Sasha sat beside her.
They looked up as the door chime announced our arrival.
“Dena, hey. And, Abby. I wasn’t expecting you.” Julie moved out from behind the counter and gave us hugs.
Sasha stood and came over to where we were. She was shorter than Julie and her dark hair was styled with spikes. A hard wind would have blown her away. She was so thin she looked gaunt.
I held out my hand. “Hey, Sasha.”
“Nice to see you again,” she said, shaking my hand.
“Everything going well?” I asked, and she nodded.
Dena gave Sasha a hug. “Let’s just eat here instead of going out. I’ll order pizza. That’s what I’m craving today.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “As long as it’s decent. I haven’t had decent pizza since we left New York.”
“Are you a pizza snob?” Julie asked.
“After living in New York City for years, I’m most definitely a pizza snob,” I answered. “I’m not a snob about most things, but I can’t take bad pizza.”
Dena shook her head. “No worries, my first date with Jeff was at an Italian restaurant and they have wonderful pizza. Trust me.”
“We can go upstairs and eat once it’s delivered,” Sasha said. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
Thirty minutes later, we sat in Sasha’s apartment, eating a delicious lunch. Julie and Dena were as jovial as ever, but Sasha was more withdrawn. I wondered if it was because I was there or if she was still suffering from depression because of what had happened with the bullwhip.
“Everyone going to the play party next weekend?” Julie asked.
Dena had a silly grin on her face. “Yes, your place, right?”
Julie giggled. “My place, I like that.”
“I knew you would,” Dena said. “Jeff and I will be there.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
“I’m thinking about going.” Sasha spoke with trepidation and all three of us looked at her. “What? I talked with my therapist. I’m not ready to play or anything. Hell, I don’t even want to date. But I think it’s time for me to go to a party.”
“Have you spoken to any senior members about it?” Julie asked.
“Does Dena being here and listening to me count?”
“Probably not,” Julie said with a raised eyebrow to Dena.
“We talked about it briefly when I came by a week or so ago,” Dena said. “But I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d be interested in attending this soon.”
“What are the concerns about Sasha attending?” I asked.
“The last time she went, she had a panic attack,” Julie said.
Sasha shot a glare at Julie. “That was months ago.”
I couldn’t tear my focus away from the two friends. Since we would be joining the group, I was particularly interested in Julie’s reaction to Sasha mentioning attending. And, I’d admit, I felt a bit like a mother hen, especially toward Julie, what with her being so new to the lifestyle.
Julie walked to where Sasha sat on the couch and knelt before her, taking her hands in hers. “You showed up at my house after, crying, shaking, and told me you were never going back. I sat by your side for weeks with you giving only one-word, yes-or-no answers. I love you like a sister and I finally have you back. I’m scared if you go to the party, the real you will disappear again.”
“The real me won’t return until I reclaim that part of my life.”
“What if going sets you back another three months?”
“What if it doesn’t?” Sasha squeezed Julie’s