Hold Me by W. Winters

Ella

The feeling from this morning hasn’t left.

It’s the comedown from the high.  I fought for what I wanted, I won … but what is it that I’m left with?

I’m still under a conservatorship.  I’m still mandated to be in the confines of my home until I prove my mental stability to someone I don’t even know and only when Damon, and The Firm, recommends an examination be done.  I have no control over either.

And then there’s Zander, a man I intend to give what little control I have left.  A man who stirs up a number of feelings that I can barely categorize … especially since Damon made that comment.  It won’t stop echoing in my head.  Maybe I’m displacing the love I had for James onto Zander.

The leather journal with rose gold binding has two sheets filled with nothing but questions.

All I know for certain is that I don’t have any answers and that I’m a far distance away from where I want to be.  With all of the memories flooding me today, I long to go back more than anything else.

Back to a time before all of this was set into motion.

My phone buzzes with a text from Kelly. You’re supposed to hold it.

My gaze shifts to the nightstand where the smoky quartz has sat since Kelly sent it in the mail.

She adds, I swear it works.

I don’t have a single comment to make about the crystal and Kelly’s hippie-dippie solution to everything.  If I wasn’t on medication, I imagine she’d have gifted me pot as well.

I’ll hold it during my therapy sessions. My thumb hovers over the button, but before I can second-guess it, I send the message.

Perfect!She replies instantly and then asks another question about Zander.  What’s his shoe size? Her question forces a sly smile from me.

Kam must have reached out to Trish and Kelly and given them this number.  All three of them have been texting me today.  They’ve been asking about Zander and anything else … other than the obvious.  None of them have asked about what happened or how I’m doing in that respect.

The girls want to know all about him most of all.  The secret love interest. If only they knew the whole truth.

I’ll tell you tomorrow, I write back and Kelly replies with, I can’t wait.

Girls’ luncheons are going to be my new favorite, Trish says next.

Kelly piles on with, Seriously, this has been missing from my life.  Love you girls.

Kisses.

Setting the phone down on the dresser, I wonder how much I should tell them.  He’s still a secret … at least to most people.  They think he’s just a bodyguard from the private security firm I hired and I struggle with how much I should tell them.

At that thought, there’s a knock at my bedroom door.  He’s the only one who knocks … as if there’s a semblance of privacy in this home.  There are cameras everywhere.  I call out while peering up at the camera in the corner of the room.  It’s tucked away, small and insignificant, yet it’s one more indication that they’re always watching.

“Come in.” The door creaks open.

Damon told me Cade added motion sensors above the bedroom door. So they’re alerted to anyone coming or going.  He not-so-subtly hinted around the fact that when Zander and I are together here, they’ll stop watching.

I’m very aware that it will still be recorded.  It’s odd the sensation it gives me and how it’s so strikingly different from when I’m recorded alone.  One is troublesome and alarming, while the other is tantalizing.

With only the corner light on, and the evening sun filtering through the curtains, my prince is cast in shadows as he closes the door behind him.

My periwinkle silk nightgown is in complete contrast to his stiff white collared shirt and perfectly tailored slacks.  All but the top button is done. It does nothing to hide his muscular physique and the power that lies under the expensive fabric.

“There you are,” he comments as if he’s been looking for me.  I heard him come in.  I heard them talking.

“You weren’t here this morning,” I say and the statement comes out as an accusation.  There’s a flash in his eyes.  I know I’ve tested him.  But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“I had a few things to take care of.”  He considers me and I do the same to him. His gaze roams down my body and his posture changes, his hand seeming to ache at his side as he flexes it.  The door closes then with a final click and he stalks toward me, each step measured and quiet. Like a hunter to his prey.

I can’t help what he does to me.  How the air heats and each breath is harder to inhale.

Licking his bottom lip, he stops feet from me.  My back to the mirror at my vanity, I stare back at him, noting that I’m cornered.

“You’re disappointed?” he questions, seemingly surprised with a cocked brow.

I answer him honestly. “I’m not sure what to expect.”

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if you can have it.” He doesn’t let a moment pass before answering easily.  Checking over his shoulder, he decides to lean against the dresser, putting more space between us.

“Just tell you and you’ll make it happen?”

“If I determine it necessary, yes.”  His voice lowers, as does his gaze to where the button is undone between my breasts.  I’m more than aware that this nightgown leaves little to the imagination when it comes to my chest.

“I want you to be here when I wake up … at least if we,” I clear my throat, composing myself and remembering who the hell I am.  “If we fucked the night before, I want to wake up beside you.”

The strength in my tone raises Zander’s gaze and he nods. “I will make sure that happens moving forward.”  I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he answers. Nodding slightly, I place my phone down on the vanity next to my hairbrush.

There’s something liberating in that simplicity.

In the quiet, he rumbles, “I missed kissing you.” The warmth returns with full force.  My guard is crumbling; I feel every piece fall and I don’t care.

“Is that all you missed?” I say, teasing him without thinking much of it.

“Come here,” he commands me in a whisper.  It’s easy to obey.  His hand finds the small of my waist, pulling me in for a chaste kiss.  It’s simple, all of it is so easy and so bare.  Yet I crumble and heat at his touch, feeling more vulnerable with every fraction of a second.

The feel of his kiss still pressed against my lips, my eyes closed and my blood warming, I push out the words that have wreaked havoc on my mind while he’s been gone.

“Damon suggested I may be displacing some of my feelings.”  I push them out as quickly as I can, too scared to open my eyes until the last word is spoken.

He doesn’t answer and slowly, I peek up at him through my lashes.  The only movement he makes is to run his thumb up and down my side.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I know I feel things … I don’t know what you feel.”

“You’re feeling uncertain?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm,” he says and his acknowledgment is a rumble from his chest.  He pulls me forward, into his chest, to kiss the crown of my head, then he whispers, “You still want me?”

“Yes,” I answer easily, my eyes still open, staring down at his chest.

“Good,” he answers and pulls back, letting cool air filter between us to look down at me. “Even if you don’t want me for forever, you damn well better know that I want you right now.”

“And tomorrow?” Peeking up at him, I feel nothing but vulnerable.

“I’ll want you tomorrow too. So long as you want this, I will be here.”

I’ve never felt so needy before.  So fragile with a man.  James happened slowly.  We were friends first and falling for him was unexpected.  The security was there.  By the time I realized what I felt, I knew he felt the same.  This … this is nothing like that and it’s terrifying.

“I’m afraid … you don’t really want me.  That you’re only here because you think I need you.”

Zander’s inhale is audible, and it’s heavy and suffocating all at once.  His expression is just as alarming.  It’s as if the air around him has darkened and a different side of him has taken over.  With a single step forward, he towers over me.

“If I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t be here, Ella.” The disappointment is obvious in his piercing gaze.  “How could you possibly think I don’t want you?  It’s fucking embarrassing what you do to me.  How I can’t even think when you’re around.”  Taking my hand in his, he presses my palm against him.  “I’m hard as fuck thinking of how I’m going to punish you for that insecurity.”

His touch is like fire, the air engulfed in flames around us.

“You missed being punished, didn’t you?  When you opened your mouth to greet me and instead you complained.”

My gaze dances between his broad chest and his hand.

“I’m sorry,” I admit.

He smirks at me. “No you’re not.”

“I—”

“You wanted to test me.  To push me.  To make me prove myself.”  My body heats with a knowing feeling as he takes a step forward and I take one back.  Then again.  And again.

“It’s called topping from the bottom.”  My lower back hits the vanity. I grip it on either side of me as Zander lowers his lips to my ear and whispers, “Did you think I’d let you get away with it?”

“Z.” I swallow thickly, not knowing what to say.  “I was upset and unsure.  I’m sorry.”  It’s not that I fear a damn thing in this moment.  Not him leaving, not a punishment.  That’s not why I’m sorry.  I wish I could take it back, because I know it hurt him.  That flash in his eyes, that disappointment.  “I would take it back if I could.”

“You are my submissive, and you were disrespectful.” His admonishment is spoken slowly.  “Get down on your knees and show me how sorry you are.”

I’m almost shocked by his disapproval, by the harshness of his tone. Shocked so much that I freeze until he lowers his lips to mine, his eyes still open, staring through me as he demands. “On your fucking knees right now.  Get on the floor.”

I fall instantly to my knees, my cheek brushing down his thigh until I’m eye level with his groin.  As my fingers fumble with his zipper, he pets the back of my head and then strokes my cheek with a single finger.  “That’s a good girl.  Make it up to me.”

In a single yank his cock juts up.  Thick and hard, the veins running down his length and drawing my eye. I don’t waste a second before licking the bead of precum from the smooth head of his dick.  My tongue runs along the seam and the act makes him hiss.

I lick his length for lubricant before wrapping my hand around him.  He’s got enough girth that my hands are too small to fully wrap around him, so I use both, stroking him and rocking myself as I do.

“Give me that mouth of yours.”

With both hands pumping the base of his cock, I wrap my mouth around his head and press my tongue along the bottom side.  “Good girl.  That’s it.”  I moan around his length, sucking and feeling my own desire build. I’m hot for him.

He groans, “Goddamn,” breathily which only fuels me further to please him.

Every little sound he makes, the hitches in his breathing, the deep moans—they all push me to move faster, to please him and get him off.

“Take more of me,” he says, pushing himself deeper.  I swallow down as much of him as I can, until I gag.  Sputtering on his cock, I have to pull away.

As I heave in a breath, he grabs the back of my head. The head of his dick pushes in deeper and deeper.  Arching my neck so he can take over, I let him guide himself as my hands move to the back of his thighs to steady myself and keep me upright.

Fisting the hair at the nape of my neck, he keeps me still as he thrusts himself deeper.  My eyes sting as he cuts off my breathing.  My nails dig into the expensive fabric of his pants.

As he pulls out, I heave in a breath, staring up at him.  His jaw is clenched tight as he groans in pleasure.

“Your mouth is good for two things, my smart-ass girl,” he tells me and pulls away.  Leaving me breathing heavily, with a primal need that stirs a burning fire within me.

“Stay,” he commands, backing away, zipping his pants although he’s still very much erect.

I’m left alone on my knees on the other side of the bedroom, catching my breath as he opens the bedroom door.  My lips part a moment in protest, until he comes back into view, a duffle bag in hand that he sets onto the bench at the foot of the bed.

“Tonight we’re going to play,” he informs me.

“I want to play.”

His short laugh is nearly condescending.  “I’m aware you do, my little rulebreaker.”

“I’ll show you everything I’ve brought first.”  He unzips the bag.  “You can veto anything you aren’t interested in, and I’ll make a note of it.”  He turns to look at me over his shoulder, and it’s only then that I realize I’ve tiptoed up behind him to get a better look.

His gaze is assessing, so much so that I take a hesitant step backward.

“Where did I leave you?” he questions in a murmur, gentle, yet cautioning.

Slowly I lower myself back down, one knee at a time.  His piercing gaze ignites something between us.  “That’s my good girl,” he comments with a smirk.  Turning his attention back to the unzipped duffle bag he tells me, “I’m looking forward to playing with you tonight.”

The first item he hands me is a soft leather blindfold in deep burgundy.  It’s simple with matching silk ties, but feels luxurious.  It’s certainly not cheap. His compliment brings a warmth to my chest when he says, “The color suits you.”

“Thank you.”

Taking it back from me, he sets it gently on the corner of the bed.  It’s unmade and it’s the first time I’ve even considered making the bed since I’ve been home.  Before my thoughts are allowed to wander, he tells me, “You respond well to praise.  It’s kept me from degrading you.” I don’t miss how he gauges my reaction.

“Degradation, like calling me a whore, spitting, and all that?” I question, not sure how it makes me feel anymore.  It’s been a long time since before James.

“What do you think of all of that?”

I take a moment to consider it.  Even in my wildest days, it was mild and I was too intoxicated or well past any limit where I would object.  Every touch heightened the high.  It was different then.

I’ve been called a lot of things, like “little slut” and “my whore.”  I remember a time when I loved degradation, it was a part of the scene.  It’s a kink that I never imagined would leave me.  If a man used it outside of the bedroom, it was obviously different.  But within the confines of four walls, it’s different because I know I’m going to get mine and when it’s all said and done, they’d kiss me and tell me what a good girl I was.  That was so long ago, though.  A lifetime ago.  “At one point I enjoyed it.”

“But now?”

“I really just want to please you.”

A huff of humor leaves Zander and he says, “Well that makes two of us.”  He doesn’t waste any time pulling out the second item.

“Matching tape.”

“Tape?” The hitch in my voice gives away my hesitancy as Zander holds out a roll of shiny tape in the same deep burgundy shade as the blindfold.

“It only sticks to itself,” he explains, pulling the end free and holding it out for me to feel.

“It’s like PVC tape?”

He nods in response to my question.

“Any objections?” he asks and his tone is neutral.  “I know you want to please me, but you should know it would piss me off if you didn’t object if you wanted to.”

Shock at his darkened tone drops my bottom lip slightly.  My eyes widen and he stares down at me with a seriousness.  Kneeling in front of me, he drops the roll into my hand, lowers his lips to my ear and whispers, his warm breath trailing down the curve of my neck, “I want to feel you come on my dick as many times as you possibly can before you safe word.”  My breathing quickens as he leans back, brushing the hair from my face with a casualness that downplays the perversion he just spoke.  “It’ll make it harder for me if you lie right now.”

“I was nervous because it’s tape, but it won’t stick to me, like duct tape would.”

“Not at all.”

Gripping the tape tighter, I ask him, “How do you plan to use it?”

“I’ll bind your legs, so they’re bent and you’re easier to position however I want, and your hands and arms … I haven’t decided yet.”  His words drift off and his eyes roam down my body before he looks back up at me.  “Or maybe some other binding. Do you have a preference?”

“No.”

“Then however the hell I want.  I may tie you to the bed frame.  Strap you down so you can’t move an inch while I fuck you …”  Leaving me with the vision of my wrists being cuffed to the bedposts with this tape, Z turns his back to me, fishing for something in the duffle before pulling out a pair of small silver safety scissors.

Nodding, I hand him back the heavy roll, his fingers brushing against mine and eliciting a rush of adrenaline and heat.  “Then no objections.”

A shiver runs down my back with my hair tickling along my shoulders.  Every little touch feels heightened knowing I’ll be bound and blindfolded.

The apprehension is an aphrodisiac.

“What should I call you?”

Zander’s brow arches.  “Like when we’re in here … when we’re …” A long exhale leaves me, my chest rising and falling with the newly found heat.

“You call me Z,” he answers easily.  Although I’m well aware he’s toying with me.

“That’s just a nickname.”

“Like ‘my little jailbird,’” he comments affectionately.  He wears a simple smile yet somehow, there’s pride hidden within it.

“I really—” I start to say love.  I was going to say love it when he calls me that.  Little bird was cute.  Jailbird, though … I love it when he calls me that.  Swallowing down my admission, I clarify, “I mean, should I call you Sir when we’re in a scene … or something else?”

James like it when I called him Sir.  And I loved it.  I loved being in a room with him, knowing he could do whatever he wanted and that by the end of the night we’d both be sated and even more in love with each other than we were the day before.

“Two things.  The first is that we will always be in scene.  There isn’t a moment where I will hesitate to reward or punish you.  Is that understood?”

“Yes.”  The word rushes out of me with more want than I previously knew existed.

“Second.  I’ve barely touched you, Ella.  I only just tasted you last night.  Honorifics like Master and Sir are earned.  It means something more than … the name of an avatar in a game.  It’s like a collar.”

“How do you earn it?”

“A collar or an honorific?” he questions, the devilish look in his eye turning me on even more.

“We can consider it when you don’t hesitate to tell me what’s on your mind.  When you trust that if I’m asking you a question, it’s because I want nothing but the truth.  That my opinion of you and our relationship will remain as it is regardless of what you tell me.  That I’ll protect you from all things, including all that insecurity, all that fear, everything and anything that could keep you from being content.”

All I can do is whisper, “So serious.”  His thumb graces my lower lip, trailing along it until I part my lips as Zander slips the tip of his thumb into my mouth.  His pointer curls under my chin and he tilts my head up, staring deep into my eyes.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble,” he warns. Then he informs me, “We’re only getting started, Ella.  I have yet to break you in and toy with you.”  A wicked grin plays along his handsome face.  My heart pounds harder as he drops his grip and brushes the hair from my face.  “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to breaking you in.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, but even more heat pools in my core.  Longing for him to touch me there.  No, needing him there.

My desperation urges a soft sound from my lips. It’s not quite a moan, and merely an audible exhale.  Without breaking my gaze, Zander groans deep in his chest, “The fucking sounds you make…” With a gruff sound he turns away from me, tossing the duffle bag with more force than necessary to the floor.  It doesn’t escape me that there is more in it, but I’m not given a moment to question what it could be.

Instead, Z commands me, “Get on the bed, I’m ready to play with you.”