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I nod through gritted teeth. I am going to take it or do all I can to get myself there. Grandmama will be there and I know Dahlia is pulling out all the stops to make sure she can be there at the finish line too. I’m not holding my breath; it is not a big event by celebrity standards, but there will be cameras, TV coverage, and a sky sports highlight throughout the day. It is a risk for Dahlia, and Mr. Suit is not too fond of the idea. But I have a feeling Dahlia will get her own way.
For a woman who has submissive traits in the bedroom, she certainly knows how to get things done her way outside of it—and all with a smile and southern class. I am in awe of her constantly. That is not something I try to hide in the slightest and I worry my feelings are too clear. I wonder if it is only a matter of time before we both sit down and had a conversation about what we are doing and what our options are.
I punished myself through a grueling training and then spent hours studying my rivals. Going over and over my tactics. I was going to do this. I could feel it in my bones that I was ready and I knew the tingles of love that I felt were only adding to my confidence in my ability to win.
The early morning sun sneaks through the curtains and stretches out on the pillow next to Dahlia. Slowly creeping closer until it finally caresses the softness of her cheek, prompting her sea-green eyes to flutter open. She blinks herself awake and smiles at the sight of the gift next to her. A clutch of wildflowers smiles back at her tucked carefully under the ribbon wrapped around the simple, white box.
She sits up, her red hair, messy from sleep, brushes her shoulders as she pulls the gift into her lap, fingering the velvet petals of the flowers before bringing them to her face, inhaling their sweet scent. She sets them aside and tugs the emerald ribbon, releasing the bow. Taking a deep breath, she lifts the lid from the box. Her smile widens as she reads my note. I watch her from the bathroom door but I don’t make a sound, just drinking in her delight and watching the flush spread as she whispers my words.
“Wear this for me today, my love. It’s not nearly as beautiful as you, but it’s the best I could do. I can’t wait to see you tonight!”
I watch her as she rises to get ready. She has a big meeting today, and she chooses her outfit carefully. The dress caresses her curves like a lover, but the hemline is long enough to be professional. The neckline dips enough to invite the eye, a teasing peek at the bounty beneath the viridian fabric.
She realizes I’ve been watching and almost shyly thanks me for the gift. There’s no time to talk, but we know we’ll be together soon. She walks with confidence as she leaves the penthouse, adding a sultry sway to her hips. Her hand raises to finger the charm on her choker. My choker for her.
I have a plan for her today. She has promised me a special night before my race, but I feel like she deserves some attention from me. I am resting my body; my day will be spent in front of the widescreen cinema display, so I have plenty of time to give her attention.
I give her space, time to settle into her day and her meeting. Knowing my charm lingers on her skin. That she will feel the brush of my choker against her throat every time she moves.
I call her around lunchtime. The phone rings and she answers; I can hear her smiling brightly at my voice on the end of the line. I waste no time on small talk, instead adopting the tone that makes Dahlia shiver. “Lock the door, baby, and take those panties off. Put them in your bag. You won’t need them again today.”
I hear Dahlia gasp, but without question, she sets the phone down. I imagine her standing to lock the door. She’d lean on it for support while pulling her dress up her pale thighs, hooking her thumbs under the lace, and peeling down and stepping out of the panties. I am positive she did what I ordered and they are now stowed in her purse. In just a minute, she has brought the receiver back to her ear, and I know she has followed directions well. “Good girl,” I murmur, and I swear I can almost feel her pulse racing through the phone.
Dahlia takes a deep shuddering breath. “Spread your legs for me… trail your fingers along your inner thigh. Start at your knee and slowly drag your nails higher”
She whimpers, I know she yearns for my touch, I know she will follow my instructions. “Touch yourself. With one finger. Tease yourself.”
Her breath quickens and I can hear the shift of fabric. “Rub your clitoris,” I encourage through the phone. “Good girl, tease yourself. I hope you are wet for me.” Deep, quickening moans are her only reply.
“One finger, baby. Just one. Push it inside yourself.” I imagine Dahlia arched against her hand, wet and aching for me. “Two now … get there, baby.” Her pussy will tighten around her fingers as she curls them forward. Her thighs will tremble. I’m sure her breathing is telling me she’s getting closer.
“Now… stop, my love. Wait. No orgasm until I see you.” She gasps and whimpers, but I know she obeys. “Yes, Alexa,” she answers, and I can hear the need in her voice.
“But take a taste, taste your sweetness for me.”
I can hear her finger swirl around her tongue, the smack of her lips as she sucks, and I feel tingles between my own legs.
Fuck, she is so sexy.
I wait for her to return to the bedroom. I’ve enjoyed watching a movie while she was out and now I want to watch her undress; I want to be a voyeur to her sexiness and she does not disappoint. She reaches behind her, pulls the silver zipper down revealing the smoothness of her skin. First one arm, then the other slips from the sleeves. Her hands slide over her breasts, cupping them, teasing her nipples, thumbs brushing against the sensitive buds until they strain against the midnight lace. She reaches back again, releasing the clasp of the bra. Shrugging thin straps from freckled shoulders, the thin fabric falls to the floor.
My eyes are wide as she urges the dress over the curve of her hips, down until it joins the bra on the floor. She bends to gather the garments, laying them neatly across the back of a chair. Shapely calves lead to creamy thighs, hips that beg to be gripped, and rosy pink nipples that need to be kissed. She admires herself briefly in the mirror before removing her fingers dancing along her collar.
“I prepared the bathroom for us,” I say softly, and she turns with a raised eyebrow.
“It was my turn to treat you.”
I stand slowly, pushing the door open, letting it swing wide. “You treat me all the time,” I murmur.
Dozens of candles light the warm room, filling the air with the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla. Fragrant steam rises from the clawfoot tub in the center of the room as bubbles float lazily on the surface of the hot water. Music plays from the speaker in the corner adding to the calm of the evening.
I feel her follow me; I know she feels the tingles as do I. I gesture with my head to the floor and she kneels there quietly, patiently awaiting a vision of beauty and submission. Her delicate hands rest on the smoothness of her thighs, palms up, offering herself to me. A satisfied smile curves my lips, my heart swells with pride. My woman. My sweet Dahlia.
I step forward and reach a hand down to caress her face. The look of trust in Dahlia’s eyes makes my pulse skip. I offer her my hand and pull her up into my arms, fitting her curves easily to mine. I tangle my fingers in her hair and bring her closer, inhaling that soft sweet scent before brushing my lips gently over hers. Savoring the moment, I slip my tongue between her lips seeking the sweetness of her mouth. Quiet moans pass between us as the world falls away.
Unable to resist, my hands roam her body, caressing each dip and curve of form as our tongues dance. I nudge her legs apart and press my thigh between them, chuckling softly at the warmth I find there. Nipping at her lips before breaking our kiss to meet those wide green eyes. “It’s been a long day… let me take care of you.”
I guide her to the tub and help Dahlia lower slowly into its soothing heat. Her sigh as the water envelops her is my first reward and I let it linger. Smiling, I move behind her to gather her long red hair and secure each silken strand into a messy bun atop her head. My lips press against her pulse and my breath tickles her ear as I whisper, “Mine.”
