Quite the opposite. It’s so seriously hot that after his second shot I’m screaming, my head smacking against the wall as I hold onto his shoulders for dear life. I’m convinced I’m going to fall to the floor, even though this man I was stupid enough to fall in love with has me held fast against the wall for the sole purpose of pumping his cock into me.

The last thing I taste is his tongue on mine. The last thing I hear is his languished groan as he finally comes down from his orgasmic high. The last thing I feel is his cock easing out of me, leaving behind an emptiness I don’t want to acknowledge. An emptiness left gaping enough make the floor beneath me a mess. It’s me, it’s him – all right, mostly him – and it’s 100% us.

“Fuck it all,” Ian groans, slamming his hand against the wall as his head falls against my shoulder. “I’m in chaos.”

“Aw, my poor baby.” Even though I’m sore, even though I’m exhausted, and even though the hole Ian Mathers decided to stretch without any warning is making its own mess all over the place, I get back on my knees and wrap my lips around his softening cock. It’s the least I could do for my Dom.

He grunts from the overstimulation so soon after a hard orgasm. I’m gentle, avoiding his most sensitive areas as I clean him from his shaft and tip. He gets hard again a little, but not enough for him to take me again. That’s more than fine. As his sub, I’m more than happy to serve him like this without expecting any reciprocation.

Hey, I mostly do it out of love.

“Come here.” He yanks me up, kissing me, unashamed of tasting himself all over my mouth. Our lower halves may be too tired to continue, but our upper halves are more than eager to make love… regardless of how rough or ridiculous it may be. “Did you mean what you said about feeling guilty about being a woman?”

I can’t believe he’s bringing this up now, but I go with it. “You know what I mean…”

“Yeah, but if you weren’t a woman, we would have never found each other. So don’t feel ashamed about that, Katie. You being a woman is one of the best things about you.”

I kiss him again. This time I’m the one mauling his lips and scratching his bare skin.

It’s not until I see someone out of the corner of my eye that I pull away from Ian and smile at our voyeur.

“Like what you saw?” I ask Eva’s date, who is much more petite now that she’s not on the second floor. She looks to have come from the women’s room, and I don’t doubt she decided to stop and watch the show. “Tell your date all about it. For me.”

The young woman raises an eyebrow before scooting off.

“And tell her to fuck you half as good tonight!”

“Now, now,” Ian gently reprimands, pushing me against the wall again. “No need to be so intense… with anyone other than me.”

“I’ll be intense with whomever I please, sir.” The closer I feel to him, the more I want to test his patience. Especially in private.

“I’ll hold you that, my darling.”

He kisses me. The rest of the night is a blur I hope to never wake up from.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

IAN

 

“Sit still,” Kathryn says, scraping my razor up the side of my face. “I don’t want to cut you and watch you bleed all over my sink.

I’m trying to wash my hands without getting my rolled up sleeves too wet. This is what I get for telling her I don’t plan on shaving for another two days. I will have you know that Kathryn Alison is perfectly fine with my stubble when it’s rubbing against her pussy, but for some reason it’s not okay for watching a movie.

Honestly, I think she gets off on shaving me.

“I cut myself all the time. What’s the difference if you do it?”

Kathryn puts the razor down and wipes cream off my face with a white hand towel. “The difference is that this is my sink and I don’t want your DNA all over it. What’s going to happen if you turn up dead and the police see how much blood of yours is in my bathroom? Boom. I’m in prison.”

“You’re loaded. You can afford a good lawyer.” I shrug, taking the towel from her hand so I can finish up in her stead. She rolls her eyes and grabs the aftershave I keep here. Haha. I keep aftershave here. If you’re a man, then you know how serious that makes our relationship. I’ve got her tampons in my bathroom and I’ve got aftershave here. We’re practically married.

And my cat has a plethora of new toys whenever she sneaks into my bathroom and opens that cupboard. You ever seen a cat stalk around your house with a tampon in its mouth? It’s a trip.

“Besides,” I continue, as Kathryn smacks my face with aftershave, “I hear some good shit happens in those women’s prisons. Good lesbian shit.”

“You think I could run some BDSM ring in there?” Kathryn puts the aftershave away and picks up a hairbrush. She tackles her scalp with more force than I give her ass when I spank it. Ouch. “I could be the Monica Graham of the state pen. Get me some girls, some patrons who pay in cigarettes, and watch the cash roll in. As cigarettes, of course.”

“Of course.”

Kathryn pulls a wad of blond hair from her brush before tossing it aside. Tonight she’s wearing a white one-piece that sparkles in the soft lights of the bathroom. We’ve come back from dinner, her treat. I plan on treating her to something else later.

We give and take, Kathryn and I.

It’s been over a week since her debut in The Dark Hour. Since then, I’ve become the envy of every Dom I know – take that, Henry Warren – and she’s not seen a blip in her social life. Although she keeps mumbling something about someone named Dawn Lovett, whoever she is.

Things are going well. Kathryn and I have found balance in our relationship. She continues to submit to me on a semi-regular basis, sometimes planned in advance, and oftentimes as a byproduct of the mood we’re in. I’ve learned to give up control as well. Like letting her pay for dinner without raising a fuss. Hey, I can get used to free food.

She’s talking about me getting a tattoo on my shoulder, though. Something like “Property of Kathryn Alison,” and, uh, we’re going to have a long talk about that. I know how this works. You get a tattoo with your girlfriend’s name on it, and the next thing you know you’re getting an artist to somehow turn it into your mom’s name.

Oh, speaking of, my mom and dad are back together for the time being. Don’t get too excited. This is like the third time since the divorce. Kathryn and I have a friendly bet on who will cheat first. Although last I heard from the Queen of TMI, the older Mathers are shopping around the Château for a mistress like the Andrews have. Ew. I’m never going back there again.

“Once we have some time tomorrow,” Kathryn begins, flicking the hand towel against my shoulder, “we need to talk hotel business. My dad’s gonna jump all over my ass the moment the council approves the museum, and I need your input.”

“Oh, no, we’ll be working together even still!” Business is going well. We still get a few protestors, but most of them have shrugged and given up. Doesn’t help that half of them came in looking for a job. “Mayhap we shall find new places to copulate, Ms. Alison.”

“Why, Mr. Mathers,” she says, putting on a fake Southern Belle accent. With her dress and hair, I almost believe it. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re trying to compromise me.”

“Darling, you’ve been compromised every which way to Sunday by now. I don’t think you’ve got an orifice left for me to penetrate for the first time.”

“Not true. I’ve got a left ear.”

“When did I fuck the right one?”

“That one time I blew you and popped off your dick too late. Remember? Almost had a There’s Something About Mary moment.”