Holiday 5

Looking out the large bay window of their living room he could tell the morning would be crisp and cold. He could see the fog swirling over the bridge and the grey cast of the sky gave him a slight shiver. It was a Monday, and a holiday, he wouldn’t be working today. He’d risen early and dressed in khaki Dockers and a black cotton pullover sweater. The sky reflected in his blue eyes making them stand out even more than usual, especially on a day that looked as stormy as this one would turn out to be. Recalling this bad news about the weather he was doubly glad he didn’t have to face it to get to work. But as for her … a different story. Her boss was an idiot and insisted there were no such thing as “paid holidays” … she would be facing the elements this February morning. Silently in his head he cursed her employer and wished she would call out, knowing she wouldn’t. She was too reliable for that … too loyal, even when there were no reward for her devotion.

She came from the hallway and brushed passed him toward the kitchen. A quest for coffee he guessed correctly, as he watched her pull her favorite mug from the cupboard and fill it with cream and brown sugar, and then, the brew from the pot. He turned and leaned against the cold window frame, then crossing his arms across his chest as he studied her. She’d dressed a bit more casual than usual today. He imagined it were her silent protest to being forced into the office on a holiday. A slight defiance. It was so her. She was wearing a deep crimson colored dress. All soft linen like a rich wine flowing down her body. Short sleeved and knitted fine with a square neckline. It hardly clung to her form at all, just gave hints of her hip curves and stopped an inch above her knees. It had a sweater that matched exactly which she’d already hung by the door to pick up on her way out. Her stockings were silk and hardly shaded her ivory skin tone, it looked as if she weren’t wearing them at all. And modest black shoes with hardly a heel, but they gave off a classy shine. Soft brown hair was loosely clipped with a silver barrette in a fanlike fashion. Wisps were already falling along her nape and over her ears. She looked exquisite and smelled even better. He wished again for more time with her today.

He knew she was running late as well. Not like her at all. It surprised him but he wasn’t about to shun the extra time with her. She’d been working most of the weekend as well, trading her rightful “off time” to visit clients in jail and others in their own private homes. A lawyer … he still couldn’t believe he’d married a lawyer. And even more startling that this intelligent, sassy, silver-tongued champion of the courtroom put all of her trust in him the minute she was home. How did that happen? How could someone so independent and so brutal among her peers submit to him as she did? God, what made her tick? He knew he’d never understand it, he was just grateful for what they’d had.

While fixing her cup of coffee she had the feeling he was watching her. Nothing new, he usually was. Not thinking much of it she reached up to her shoulder and straightened her bra strap, it kept slipping but she didn’t have the time to change it and didn’t want to risk wrinkling her dress in the process. She absently brushed a strand of hair from her face and sipped more of her drink. From where he stood at the window he locked his eyes to hers. She froze in place and a small smile turned up the corners of her mouth, sensing the connection. “What?” She asked? He didn’t reply with words, but uncrossed his arms and entered the kitchen. He walked straight up to her and put his hands around her waist and then leaned in to kiss her. A soft brush of his lips on hers and then straight to her ear where he whispered softly, “Stay with me today.”

More than anything, she wished she could. But there was a hearing scheduled for Wednesday and she needed all the time she could get to run information past her client. Make sure everything was going to patch together. She couldn’t afford a day off. And the managing partner in her firm wouldn’t allow it anyway. She was trapped. She had to go. But he felt too good wrapping himself around her to deny a quick embrace this morning. Barely five feet tall she needed to stretch herself as much as she could to lock her hands around his shoulders. He was a bit over six feet tall. She tightened her arms up around his neck and kissed under his ear in turn. “You know I can’t … “

“Oh, I know you could … if you wanted to,” and his arms tightened about her waist.

“It’s not about ‘want’,” was her reply.

“Everything is about want.”

She sighed. He was right. About most things, and definitely about this. And she did want. Enough to hug him closer and press herself to his body. Feeling her begin to melt he slipped his hands down her body and caressed the backs of her thighs with just his fingertips while his mouth sought out hers. He loved the taste of her tongue, even with coffee. Her mouth tasted like sweet, creamy espresso. He couldn’t complain. But now that he’d deepened their kiss she began to pull back, to try and untangle from his arms. “Mark … please, I can’t.”

He let out a sigh and released her. Not really willing to let her go. She’d spent too much time away lately. Where was his time? Suddenly it occurred to him that he’d never have time with her unless he made it happen. Though he didn’t really prefer to demand things of her it was becoming difficult to avoid this. She wasn’t giving of herself, he’d been letting her slip on too many occasions. His own fault really. That was about to change.

She left the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom, he knew she was brushing her teeth and would be applying her lip gloss. Last minute things before leaving him for the day. The entire day! After a whole weekend without her as well. No, this couldn’t happen. He picked up her cup and began rinsing it in the sink. Even though she’d only taken three sips and the liquid was still piping hot, he knew she was done. In the years he’d known her, she’d never once finished a cup of coffee.

Oh, and about unfinished things, frowning, his mind returned to the night before. When she’d finally come home from the office (extremely late) she was drained. But that didn’t stop her from climbing into bed next to him and kissing him, spooning against him and holding herself to his body. Having not seen her for over a day he was instantly aroused and when he turned to her to return the affection she pulled her mouth away from his. Even turned on her pillow a bit. At the time he felt sympathy for all of her long hours … for how tired she must really be and he spent a better part of an hour caressing her hair and kissing her temple until she slept.

Today he felt rage. He felt teased and led on. Now that he thought of it he suddenly couldn’t recall their last truly intimate time. Last week? Last month? When had she taken on this new client anyway? He was so determined to let her be successful that it was wearing even him down. What about his need after all? And for crying out loud, it was a holiday still. Suddenly he had a need unlike he’d felt in a great while. A need to just ravish her. Something he hadn’t done in an extremely long time …

***

She was coming down the hall preoccupied with the task of clasping her wristwatch in place when she heard his muted voice as she reentered the living room. It stopped her in a dead panic under the threshold.

“Hello, Mr. Kendall? Good morning, I’m calling for Belle … Yes she will be in but I’m afraid she’s running awful late, her car is acting up …,” he paused, listening.

In shock she cried out at this untruth falling on her employer’s ears, “Mark!”

Cold blue eyes pierced hers from across the room and he held up his index finger silencing her. In addition, he gave his head a slight shake, warning her to not push further. She bit her lip, knowing he was serious. She listened as he picked up the thread of the conversation … “No, I don’t think it’s too major, probably just the cold has frozen it up overnight …,” he was quiet again a few moments and she watched in slight horror as a wicked grin she knew so well began to play across his face and his amused eyes held hers as he told her boss, “Yes, I am absolutely certain I’ll have her all fixed in no time … All right then, thanks.”

He hung up the phone on the table by the couch and crooked his finger at her. Two more words uttered. “Come ... now.”

In a daze she did as he bid. Walking slowly up to him and once she arrived she cast her eyes down toward his feet. Noting he was barefoot. For a moment all of it struck her as absurd. The thought gone in an instant when he caught her chin with his fingers and leaned down to kiss her again. Immediately she pulled back and he caught her wrist firmly in his hand. “Don’t,” he said, “You will not deny me or tease me again.” His other hand found the nape of her neck keeping her still as he crushed his mouth on hers, now more clinical, she tasted of toothpaste. Still not bad, but nowhere nearly as sexy as the coffee flavored tongue he’d enjoyed not ten minutes before. Still, she was his, he devoured her mouth anyway.

After a long moment he moved his hands to her hips and spun her around pulling her back tight to his chest. Dropping his lips once more he found the flesh of her neck and began to suck. He knew she detested marks there, something she’d always protest … others possibly knowing he adored the skin of her throat. Feeling his mouth assaulting her neck she began to wiggle away to avoid having a mark from his sucking. She was no match for his strength. He tightened his arms holding her captive. Now he said, “If you continue to fight me I’ll leave a mark on you that would embarrass even a 16 year old cheerleader after the prom.” She whimpered knowing this was not a false threat and immediately relaxed in his grip. He let out a chuckle of satisfaction and nipped her throat hard, one small bite, just for good measure. To remind her of this promise. Just a small bite, it would probably bruise her ivory skin and that would be with her a few days, but at least it wasn’t the sucking she so adamantly hated. He smiled again as she groaned in despair. This was better, now they were playing his way.

Now that she was lax in his arms he decided to seek some answers for her recent detachment at home. He gently kissed her shoulder and then her cheek as his hands caressed her arms softly. Then he folded them around her clasping her hands in his. He spoke tenderly as he lightly fingered the platinum band on her left hand. “What is this?,” he asked.

“My wedding band,” she whispered.

He nodded, “And what does it mean?”

She stammered, “Our marriage, our love and devotion to each other,” she risked touching his hand in exactly the same spot, a feather touch to his matching, yet slightly wider band. “Our lives.” She finished.

“Yes,” he said. Then slowly he slipped his fingers up her forearm and gently over her elbow, then the smooth skin of her bicep to her shoulder. Slowly, he slid his fingers along her collar bone and gently pressed the skin in the center hallow of her throat. After a moment his fingers tripped up a fraction of an inch higher and connected with the similar platinum choker she wore. “And this?,” he asked.

His fingers now pressed firmly on her throat he felt her swallow hard. Yet, there was no answer. “Well?,” he inquired?

She stammered, “My collar.”

He nodded, “And it means?”

The words slipped out almost easily, yet she felt some resistance each time he asked … “That you own me.”

“Very good,” and his lips returned to her shoulder and he lightly nibbled there. Feeling the difficult part was over her head lulled back against his shoulder, moaning with the first pleasure since this encounter began.

“Now,” he pulled his lips away briefly to say, “if you could only choose one and not have the other, which would it be?” He indicated his point of her choice by returning one hand to her wedding band and the other toying with the choker around her neck, the one mistaken everyday as just a trendy piece of jewelry.

This question caught her off guard completely. Was it a trick? Could there be a wrong answer? What did he want to hear? A long moment passed. He didn’t rush her. Simply, he returned his lips to where he’d bitten her earlier and began to suck despite his word to spare her that. The tender flesh ached as his tongue flicked over it, making it even more difficult to come up with a response.

Again she swallowed hard. No lawyerly skills could help her here. It was a point blank question. The would be no arguing and, hopefully he wouldn’t be objecting. She’d had no rebuttal planned. She decided to just tempt fate, see what awaited her.

Taking a deep breath she croaked, “My ring.”

“Oh?,” he asked? “You’d rather be married to me than enslaved by me? Why’s that?”

Her answer: “Because you are my life, and even if we didn’t exist … this way, I’d still want to be with you. Because you make everything right … “

“Good girl,“ he said. He knew what she was referring to. That they’d have loved each other even if one of them hadn’t possessed this quirk that made her submit to him. Or if it should turn up in the future that he couldn’t command and define his control, or she could no longer submit, for whatever reason … there would still always be the love and the trust, and therefore: the marriage. She would choose her ring.

But she was continuing on, “Although if I could really have my choice, I’d choose to keep both.”

At this he laughed, “Well of course it’s hypothetical, neither ring nor collar are going anywhere. So now the question is, why are you teasing me? Why are you being such a stubborn witch lately?”

“I haven’t … “ A quick nip to her shoulder and she was silent once more.

“Yes,” he went on, “you have. It will end now, you will remember me today and how you’ve been treating us.”

With that, he was done talking. He dropped his hands and began raising up the hem of her dress, exposing her legs to him. The cream lace tops of her stocking revealed. The type that held themselves up. He then started to grind his hips into her backside. He then stepped forward forcing her towards the couch and bending her over the arm. He exposed her ass to his view. She wore a crimson thong, and it was velvet. And she had the nerve to suggest she wasn’t teasing him? His anger, his lust, began to flair. With his foot he kicked her ankles apart and slid his hand up her inner thighs. Now he was not gentle, now he was seeking. Roughly pushing the thong out of his way his fingers ran along her smooth lips. Wet. She was soaked. Yet she denied the fact she’d held out on him?

“Slut!” he barked and brought his left palm down hard on her hip. Another mark. Then he reached that same hand up and unclipped her hair, admiring the way it spilled down only for a second before grabbing a handful and wrenching her head backwards. He knew he was hurting her, having already bitten and bruised her neck, then the slap and now pulling her delicate throat. But he couldn’t help himself. Apparently it didn’t matter much to her either because she began to grind herself against his right hand, his fingers still poised against her sex. She wanted it, he knew she did. “Beg,” he commanded.

“Please,” only a whisper.

“Louder,” his fingers began sliding against the full length of her slit. She was leaking cream now. He rubbed his hard shaft against her ass for good measure. Teasing of his own kind now. He smiled at the thought.

“Please, please,” she was panting now.

“Such a slut,” he said, almost disgusted. “Is this how you ask?”

“More, Sir, please, more.” She couldn’t help herself from arching up. Searching out his fingers to contact inside of her. Finally he pressed her clit hard, making her shake. He’d had enough toying with her now … now was for him.

Roughly he spun her to face him and turned forcing her body back into the easy chair. He slipped his hands under her ass and tore the thong removing it in one swift motion. That done, he grabbed her ankles and knocked her legs open wide spreading her thighs far over the arms of the plush chair. Fingers of his left hand found their way back into her wetness while his other hand pulled down on her neckline, pushing her bra down and exposing hard nipples. He pinched her left bud making her gasp.

Suddenly the cold he’d felt in him all morning became scorching. He removed his sweater, pulling it over his head and reveling his smooth chest and the stomach she loved. His narrow hips that she found so sexy. He raised a knee between her thighs and settled into the chair with her. Unable to resist she brought her fingers to his front, brushing his hardness and then toying with the slim trail of soft blondish hair below his naval. She then flitted her fingers over to the side and applied pressure to his abdomen right where his bladder was. Even when he was about to claim her, still she drove him insane. Would the battle for power ever end with her? It must. He would win today.

“Open me,” he growled, and she did, instantly popping the button open and tearing the zipper down. Within a moment she had her fingers in the band of his boxers, freeing him. He pushed his fingers inside her once more and then pulled them from her depths and forced them into her own mouth and gave another command: “Suck. And don’t you dare make a sound.” She did all he said. He lowered both hands to her hips again and raised her body up to his kneeling form, spreading her wider, wedging his hips against her inner thighs. She was now writhing in need, he couldn’t stop her from that. His own lust taking over he forced himself into her tight core, the heat and wetness enveloping his shaft. “Mine!“ he uttered as a growl rumbled through his chest. Then he stayed still a moment, buried in her while he breathed out a low deep moan. With half lidded eyes he watched as she thrust herself against his still body. Unable to hold his need any longer he started to pound into her. Her legs were so wide apart he knew he was sinking to her ultimate depths. He knew he was hurting her now as well. She was too little, and this position made her vulnerable to the pain. This knowledge spurred him on even further, also aware that she’d obeyed his demand for silence. His nails began to dig hard into her hips, scratching her white flesh raw. She was hardly breathing out. He grinded against her harder, trying to get her to moan, yell, call out, shriek. Knowing he would fail. She would remain quiet. He was pleased by this. Though he was unable to hold out long … for she had already held out on him long enough, his desire was too great. He really didn’t mind though, it was for him anyway. And it was approaching and fast. His head fell back as he tightened up, his fingers clutched her to his hips, bruising her now in the process. It was too much for him to control. Growling again he lurched forward once more, and again, a final third time and he was there, erupting into her trembling form.

He collapsed into the chair against her. Finally she made a noise. She’d been panting and was now exerted, parched. His weight upon her she leaned up to his chest and began licking the sweat from his muscled torso. He was still deep inside her, but she’d become numb to the pain. As always his senses recovered quickly. He slowly disentangled his body from her and slid back. She was leaking the life he’d just poured into her. Standing now he tugged her wrists, pulling her forward off the seat. She knew what he wanted and settled on her knees in front of him, taking him in her mouth she suckled until he was clean of both their juices. His eyes were closed and he was enjoying her soft gentle touch. Finally he’d had enough. He smiled at her and stepped back. Releasing again from another warm part of her body. “Good,” he breathed. “You are done for now.”