Chapter One
Hanna
I heard him moving around the room but kept my eyes down, my hands clasped behind my back. The cool air caressed my bare skin, making my nipples tighten even harder than they already were. I'd been kneeling like this for only a few minutes, but in the playroom, time seemed to stretch and bend in all sorts of ways. There weren't any clocks in here because when it was time to play, Cross always made sure we didn't have anything else planned for the remainder of the day.
He liked to take his time.
It was hard to believe that we'd been together for nearly five months. I'd come to Hollywood to get some distance from my parents and to spend time with my older sister, Juliette, but I hadn't planned on staying. Not exactly, anyway. All I'd known was that I hadn't wanted to go back to Zanesville, Ohio to spend the rest of my life managing the family business and taking a backseat to my perfect brother, RJ.
Then I'd met Cross Phillips, the thirty-year-old billionaire who'd introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle and stolen my heart. I'd been attracted to him from the first time I met him, and his presence during my sister's abduction had only solidified my feelings for him. Four months ago, after my sister had been found safe and the people responsible were in jail, Cross had given me a collar.
Though I was still new to the lifestyle, I understood the level of commitment that came when a Dom gave a Sub a collar. It was a mark of ownership. Not like some freaky sex slave thing where he controlled every aspect of my life, but rather a way of letting others in that world know that I was taken.
That collar, a delicate silver choker designed to look enough like a necklace that I could wear it in public, was the only thing I had on at the moment. I wore it as often as I could, even if it didn't always look right with what I was wearing. He hadn't asked me to keep it on all the time, but I loved watching his slate gray eyes light up when he saw me with it on, especially when he hadn't asked for it.
Today, however, he'd sent me a bouquet of irises – my favorite flower – with a card that had given me clear instructions. Well, clear to me anyway.
Put on my favorite outfit as soon as you get to my place. I have a special evening planned.
I'd spent the rest of the day at work completely distracted, my pussy throbbing in anticipation. I knew all too well the sorts of decadent things that awaited me in Cross's playroom.
Even though I still technically lived with my sister, I spent enough time at his house to have space for my own clothes. I also had my own key. I used it to let myself in after work, then I'd done as he'd asked.
His favorite “outfit” was my collar. Nothing more.
So when he'd arrived home, I'd been waiting in the middle of the living room, wearing only the thin chain.
There were times when Cross wanted me hard and fast, but tonight would be one of those times he dragged things out. We'd eaten dinner with him only removing his jacket, tie, and shoes. I was completely naked. When we'd finished, we cleaned up, and only then had he touched me. Barely a brush of his lips against mine, but it was my signal – we were about to begin.
That had been ten minutes ago, and I was starting to get impatient. Cross could be demanding at times, but when he decided he wanted to take things slow, nothing could change his mind. I'd tried in the past and had ended up getting spanked hard enough to make sitting at work the next day decidedly uncomfortable.
So I waited, listening to him moving around the room, getting things ready for whatever it was he had planned. I couldn't see him, but I could picture him clearly. His tall, muscular frame. Unruly white-blond hair. A classically handsome face that was a touch too rugged to be pretty. And a dimple that made me go weak in the knees when he smiled. Hell, just looking at him was enough to make my legs lose their strength.
I felt him before his feet entered my line of sight. When I saw his bare legs, I knew he'd stripped, and my stomach clenched. As gorgeous as he looked in everything he wore, his nude form was the sort of thing artists would fight over. I desperately wanted to look up, to let my gaze travel up his muscular legs to that narrow waist and all the deliciousness in between, but I knew I had to wait for his permission.
“Look at me.”
I almost sighed in relief. For me, the anticipation was always the worst part. Well, that, and when he wouldn't let me touch him. I hated that.
When I raised my eyes, I took my time, savoring every inch of tanned skin, toned muscle. By the time I reached his face, my pulse had quickened, my breathing increased. When my gaze met his, I almost forgot to breathe.
“Open.” The command was ragged, telling me that this wouldn’t be some gentle sensation play or a bit of bondage. Cross wanted more, and I wanted whatever he would give me.
I opened my mouth, clenching my hands as I fought the urge to touch him. When the head of his cock slipped between my parted lips, I shivered. He ran his fingers through my wild curls, fisting them as his heavy shaft slid across my tongue. My hair had grown a bit since we'd first been together, mostly because he liked holding it, pulling it. I liked it too.
“Put a hand on my hip,” he ordered.
I obeyed, keeping my other hand behind my back. I knew what was coming, but he said it anyway. That's how we did things. He'd tell me what he planned to do, giving me the chance to use my safe word. I hadn't used it yet, probably because he always prepared me, but he loved taking me to the edge of my comfort zone, and then giving the smallest of nudges.
I also loved listening to his voice describing all of the things he wanted to do, he was going to do.
“Two taps on my hip if you can't say your safe word,” he instructed. “Nod if you understand.”
It wasn't easy to nod with a mouthful of cock, but I managed. My tongue twitched against him, eager to explore.
“I'm going to fuck your mouth.” It sounded almost conversational, the way he said it. “Create some suction, but don't do anything else.”
I nodded again to show that I understood. Then his hand tightened in my hair, and he began to move. He started slow, gauging how far I could take him. I took slow breaths through my nose, then felt the urge to gag as the tip of him reached the back of my throat. My fingers curled into his hip, and he paused. When I didn't tap out, he kept going, holding my head in place as I automatically struggled against him as he went deeper.
“Relax, baby,” he murmured. “You can do it, I know you can.”
Some part of my mind still wanted to argue when he said things like that, but I knew he had a sixth sense for this sort of thing, for knowing what I could handle, for just how much he could test my limits. So I let him fill me completely, let him hold me there for several seconds before pulling out. I coughed and gasped, feeling a burning in my throat, but when his cock brushed my lips again, I didn't even hesitate.
This time, he wasn't so easy, but he also didn't go as far. Instead, he held my head tight and rocked his hips, thrusting in my mouth with shallow, brisk strokes. I had no control, could do nothing but suck on him as he fucked my mouth, but I never once considered ending it. I trusted him. He was in control, but I had the power, and that dynamic was what made us work.
Without warning, he pulled out and took a step back. “Up.”