The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter 82

Brooklyn was shivering as she met his eyes. She didn't want to ruin her progress. She felt she had been doing so good, now that he was willing to help correct her deficiencies. Now that he was willing to use a harsher hand to correct her behavior.

"No, Sir." She confirmed for him, since she knew he like to hear her words. "I don't want that."

"Then go be my good girl, and do what I told you." He ordered, pulling his hands away from her body and straightening his clothes, tucking his cock back into his pants. She whined in disappointment as she watched him. He flashed her an indulgent grin, with a raised eyebrow. "Don't worry, Babydoll. You'll get your fucking in a bit. Go on, now."

She nodded. Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked to the bedroom, each step punctuated by the jingle of the bells hanging from the clamps, keeping her back straight, resisting the urge to turn her head to look at him over her shoulder as she heard him shifting and rising from the chair. He heaved a sigh, and she like she had disappointed him somehow. As she turned around the door jam, she stole a quick look, seeing him with his hands on his hips, head down, staring at the pile of items she had bought. Just as she moved so she would no longer be able to see him, she saw him give a soft shake of his head.

She felt her stomach sink, wondering how she had disappointed him. He had said he had plans, real plans for tonight. He had made reservations for a nice place, and she had forced him to cancel them. Spectacularly so, but still. Perhaps she had upset him and disappointed him by making him change his plans for the night.

Granted, she thought as she turned around to sit down on the bed, scooting back to lay down, pulling her knees up, catching the heels of her shoes on the edge, so that she was in the position he had described, opening her legs to feel the cooler air of the room rush over her still hot and wet pussy, granted, she wasn't disappointed by the change of itinerary. She much more preferred what they were doing now.

This was what she had been needing from him. Weeks of it, she had been in need. What did she need of a fancy dinner, intended to woo and soften her resistance to his advances? She would lay and spread for him, if he simply looked at her. If he snapped his fingers at her, she would drop to her knees. If he placed his hand on her head, she would bow it for him. This was the need she felt for him. This was how she needed him. She needed to be able to give into the submission that had been beaten into her since she was first able to understand. No other person on the face of this earth was capable of making her want it, as he did.

She adjusted her head, keeping her hair from pulling, arching her neck against the heavy leather surrounding it. How strange it was, that she felt freed by him, even as he bound her. The comments about the collar were... odd. Strange, in a way. But there was a grain of truth. He was supposed to be the one to choose a collar for her. She had overstepped her bounds, picking this one out. But like she had tried to explain, badly maybe, it was for their play. It was a symbol of her submission to him. As much as she wished she could wear a daily reminder, something more concrete than the necklace he had been so proud to give her, she knew it would raise more questions than either one of them were willing to answer.

Some things were just for them.

She shivered a bit harder, before her body began to settle.

Waiting, like she was, was almost as nerve wracking as waiting for him on her knees, ready to share everything in the box.

She heard the clank of the wine bottle on the counter, in the silence of the apartment. The slosh of liquid. Steve cleared his throat, cursing softy, before he sighed again. His feet were soft, but sure, as he came down the hallway. She looked down her body, towards the door as he filled it, the back light showing his still clothed figure. Resisting the urge to lift herself up, to open her arms out to him to beckon him to her, she lay still, measuring her breaths, as her body reminded her it was still hungry.