2. – Miya
My lips were swollen.
I touched them repeatedly, sitting on the couch in the basement with the quiet surrounding me. They were so tender, I could barely move them. Each time I did move them, I felt parts of me come alive that I thought were already awake.
The fact that Jaxon could still wake me up filled my heart with hope.
And the fact that he could still turn me into a horny pained mess filled my light with dark.
Just the way I liked it.
I waited for what felt like hours in the quiet and dark basement. I hadn’t bothered turning on any lights. I was comfortable without them. When the lock on the door above clicked, and his feet took the stairs, slow and deliberate, I felt my lower half clench in anticipation.
Rewinding my expectations were hard. We’d gone from a place of order to a place of having him whenever I wanted. I’d never been to the place I was now. Utterly and completely at his will. At least before I had his heart.
Now I had his command.
It was insanely sexy. Already, I could feel a deeper connection. I wasn’t stupid enough to think it would be enough. It wouldn’t. Because as hot as it was to have him drive me crazy, it also proved a point I refused to acknowledge. He needed control, even if that meant slamming my heart into the ground.
I needed my heart, even if that meant spending the rest of my life picking up the discarded shattered pieces.
His shadow broached the last step. He flipped the light on and then there he was, a tray of food in his hands.
“Turn on the other lights,” he ordered quietly.
I reached over and stretched to tug on the light string from the lamp beside the couch. Warm light illuminated the basement. He set down the tray on the coffee table and sat down beside me. I wanted to touch him but knew that wasn’t in the rules anymore. I was his play thing. His vending machine of control. Every order he doled out, I dropped a little bit more power into his waiting palm.
He’d made turkey sandwiches and paired it with two cups of coffee and fresh fruit. I wasn’t hungry. At least not for food. I was trying—and failing—to figure out how the next month would play out.
Would it fix us or break us?
“Eat,” he ordered, no warmth at all in his tone.
I slid forward on the sofa and grabbed for a half of my sandwich, bringing it to my swollen, tender lips.
“I’ll ice and warm them when you’re done eating,” he promised when I flinched.
He watched me eat, his heated gaze trailing over me like his fingers. He left every inch of me achy and my head was floating in the clouds.
“Since we’ve just met, I think we need to test your pain limits. You look like you’re a disrespectful brat, and I can’t have that. Look at the ground,” he commanded when I turned to look at him.
Keeping my expressions off my face was hard. How was I supposed to hide what I felt? How was I supposed to pretend that falling in love with him was almost as hard as it was beautiful?
The sandwich went down without me tasting it. The fruit too. I drank my coffee with my eyes aimed at the liquid.
The moment I finished, he nudged my elbow. “Take all of your clothes off.”
I stood on wobbly legs and disrobed. I ached to look him in the eye, to have some sort of idea of what he was thinking. Instead, I kept them on the ground. Where he wanted them.
Where any submissive woman would keep them.
And I knew it was wrong, but I started to get angry. Why did I have to change myself? Why couldn’t Jaxon do the changing? I started concocting so many normal things for our next month together, it was hard to remain still.
Or maybe our next month wouldn’t be normal at all. Maybe I’d be the Mistress and he’d get a taste of having his eyes on the ground. But then I thought of Vega and realized I could never do that to him. Hurt him, rip his control from him.
Our next month would be sweet.
This one would earn it.
Once I was naked, I remained standing, unsure what to do next. He didn’t give me an order. He probably enjoyed my naked confusion.
He could pretend all he wanted, but he loved this. It was in his blood, and it always would be.
He got up without a word, as I stood there, returning a few minutes later. “Straddle me like you did upstairs.”
I immediately came alive, turning around and straddling his lap naked. His sweatpants brushed delicately over my clit and I tensed. An orgasm right now would be dangerous. His eyes narrowed on me, as if he could see it coming, smell it on the edge of his knowing nose.
“Put your hands on my face. Cradle it.”
Oh. I gently cupped his brutal, handsome face in my hands. My thumbs stroked his neck, and the stubble from his jaw tickled my palm. His straight nose looked kissable. I wanted to lean close and take his lips, pepper his hardness with soft kisses. Instead I remain still on his lap, lest I explode from the orgasm I felt tingling in my clit.
“Stay still,” he rumbled, lifting an ice cube from the bowl.
He loved this part. Playing with the parts he broke and making them feel better. The TLC was the best, and I moaned when the ice cube slid across my sore lips. He iced them until they were numb, and then he ripped open a bag and placed a warm cloth over them, and I closed my eyes in bliss. I stroked his jaw with my thumbs, the only way I could show him how I felt.
He repeated the process until my lips felt good again.
And then he set everything aside, grabbed my jaw, and brought me forward, biting and sucking on my lips until they were even puffier and sorer than before. I tried to cling to the little bit of pleasure hovering above all the pain, but it was hard. It hurt past good. But it pleased him. I wanted to please him. I wanted us to be more.
When he was testing my pain threshold I figured he’d be spanking me. Not breaking my lips open. I was seconds from using my safe word when he pulled back and picked up an ice cube.
His dark unfathomable gaze seared through me like a knife as he tended to me. His cock was so hard I could feel it straining against my leg. So close to my pussy the heat of him and the heat of me met somewhere in the middle, creating a fire between us.
“We’ll keep going until you use your safe word. Don’t use it until you absolutely must.”
He iced and heated my lips, and then returned to them, deep groans emanating from his chest as he sucked on my swollen flesh. I dug my nails into his jaw, on the cusp of running and coming when he groaned from the pain.
“Love,” I cried out the moment he went in for thirds. Pain had started to win. It made everything bitter and ugly.
“Okay,” he murmured gently, licking once more at my overworked flesh. He spent the next half hour icing and heating my lips. When he was done, he cupped my face and brought our foreheads against the other. “You amaze me, sweet girl. I think you’ve earned yourself and award, don’t you?”
I wasn’t gone enough to answer that question the way he suspected I would. “If you think I do, Master.”
His eyes sparkled with mirth. “You’re catching on quickly. Your pick. Oral or fingers. Which would you like?”
That’s it? I thought, disappointed. I kept it off my face as best I could. I wanted to be with him. Skin to skin, hip to hip. But I did need to come. My clit felt as swollen as my lips. The lust between us was a fog of desire I couldn’t see through. “I’d love your tongue on me, Master.”
He nodded, pleased. “I’ll eat your sweet cunt in my bed. Go upstairs and lay on all fours. Ass and cunt in the air. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I could hardly make it out of the room without turning back to him. He had metaphorical strings tied to my limbs, and he pulled them well. I made it upstairs and crawled onto his bed. The afternoon winter light lit up his entire room. I could feel the shred of warmth in the sun on my face as I got on my hands and knees. I spread my thighs apart and listened to my heavy breathing.
I felt him before I heard him. His presence commandeered the room. Traced its way over my heart. He rested one hand on my ass and palmed me.
“This is an award for taking my punishment so well. You can come once. I suggest making it last.” The bed depressed, and then his fingers were spreading me apart and baring my pussy to him.
I bit down on my lip, but that hurt too much, and the pain and pleasure sent me into hyperdrive. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted this to last. I didn’t think it would. Not with how intensely he’d teased me already. My excitement was dripping down my thighs and my lower half was a bunched livewire waiting to explode.
“How long do you think your clit would last if I did to it what I did to your lips?” He pressed a kiss to my clit from behind. My thighs shook with the effort of holding back my reaction. “Hmm?” he rumbled, making sure to do it as close to my clitoris as he could.
“Not long,” I said, my voice so thick with want I didn’t recognize it.
I wanted this forever. To jump for my pleasure as he held it over my head. I knew if I caught it that it would be magical and worth the struggle. It was convincing him to let me have it that was the problem.
“You should give yourself more credit,” he chastised.
He pressed a long, wet kiss to my clit.
I tried.
I really did.
But I exploded, moaning unhindered into the forest outside his window. He sighed in disappointment behind me, and then flicked his tongue over my clit a few more times, sending me into a pathetic orbit. When my orgasm dulled, I peered through my hair to find him glaring down at me in displeasure.
“You know what this means, don’t you?”
I shook my head.
“On top of turning your clit into a pink little pillow, we’re going to train you to enjoy the ride and not only the ending.”
I didn’t move, hating how upset he was with me. He’d wanted to award me, and I’d given in to lust so fast, I didn’t even enjoy my orgasm. “I’m sorry, Jaxon,” I whimpered.
His eyes flashed, and his heavy hand came down on my ass. “Who the fuck said you could use my first name?”
I missed my Jaxon so strongly in that moment, I knew lasting this entire month with only his monster would take every ounce of strength I had. “No one.”
He dropped his hand against my backside without restraint once more. I cringed, arching my spine. The sting of his hand had me gasping for air. “No one? I’m the only person in the room, Miya. And even if we were in a room filled with people, the only person who matters should be me. You’re on your own for the rest of the evening. Think long and hard about your submission.”
I crawled off the bed and onto my feet, sad for no good reason. “May I ask you a question?”
His sharp gaze landed on me. “What?”
“Will I not be sleeping with you?”
He gaped at me. “My submissives do not sleep in my bed. They sleep in the basement. Go.”
One month. I could do this.
I would do this.
And then he’d be at my mercy in thirty days.