But almost. “Oohhhh…”
“Yes, baby. Sir likes to fuck your pussy in the morning, doesn’t he?” It was a rhetorical question, one that made her moan. “Because it’s my pussy, isn’t it?”
“Yes Sir…ooohhh.”
“Mm. I know you like that.” His deft fingers traced around her hip, then trailed down the front of her mons to spread her slick pussy lips. She bit her tongue to keep from begging, and then to keep from blurting out a babble of thanks as he stroked her clit and tingling fire raced up to her pelvis. She arched her back, her hands opening and closing on the iron bars.
“Don’t let go. Obey me, even if it feels really good.”
“Yes Sir.” She felt breathless by now, quivery with lust.
“Because that’s what we do, little girl. I instruct and you obey.”
“Yes Sir.”
You’ll answer when I speak to you. You’ll address me as Sir.
Of course, he didn’t require her to call him Sir all the time, or answer formally, or even obey every word he said. Sometimes they interacted like regular couples, laughed over movies, shared stories about their day. Sometimes when he was giving her self-defense lessons they got silly and started to wrestle like puppies, and yes, she even bested him sometimes, although she knew he let her. Sometimes they just sat together and made out like teenagers.
No, she knew when she had to obey and use proper address by the
voice
. Dom voice. She dreamed of the voice now.
It was so much better than the dreams she used to have, nightmares of the things Barry had done to her. Those nightmares came a lot less seldom now that she slept in Dave’s arms. No more sleeping on the floor on a hard, cold pallet, or worse, in a locked metal cage. The only cage she was locked in now was the cage of his arms and his body. He curved around her now, holding her close, alternately stroking her clit and pinching her throbbing nipples.
“Oh, oh, oh…” she panted, unable to smother the frantic noises.
“Shhh. You’ll get Cerby wound up.”
Sophie tossed her head back and forth and sealed her lips together, but Dave only intensified his skillful manipulation of her sensitive nub. Her pelvis ached as she twisted back against him, then she felt everything unravel. Blessed release. She turned her head into the pillow to muffle her cries as the waves of pleasure shook her, made her jerk in ecstasy. Her hands gripped the headboard so hard she was always surprised afterward that she hadn’t left imprints in the iron. Dave pumped his own orgasm into her, shaking the bed and growling into her neck. They both shuddered, coming to rest in the aftermath.
When they opened their eyes again, Cerberus was standing at the foot of the bed staring at them.
“Relax, boy,” Dave said. “She likes it, I promise.”
Sophie giggled and let go of the headboard, turning her head for Dave’s kiss. As he turned from her to throw away the condom, she reached down and buried her hand in Cerby’s fur.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you? You’re such a sweet boy.”
As she scratched behind his ears, the dog made a groaning sound not unlike the sounds Dave and Sophie had been making moments before. He inched up the comforter, closer and closer, until he’d insinuated his hundred-pound body between Sophie’s and Dave’s. Dave rolled his eyes.
“You’re lucky we love you so much. Bed hog.”
Cerby grunted and turned pleading eyes on Sophie.
“I know, he’s a big beastie sometimes, isn’t he, Cerb?”
They both laughed as Cerberus buried his muzzle under Sophie’s arm with a sigh.
“I think you have a friend for life.” Dave scratched Cerberus’ ears for a moment before he threw back the covers. “Up and at ‘em, Sophie. It’s beautiful out. I feel like a hike today.”
* * * * *
Sophie smiled over at Dave as they walked along the dusty path. He held her hand, swinging it beside him. She took a deep, cleansing breath. He was right, it was far too gorgeous a day to stay inside. Dave hated to stay inside. He loved nature, fresh air and exercise, so they spent at least part of every weekend outdoors. Sometimes they went geocaching, a kind of communal treasure hunt that thrilled the child in Sophie, and sometimes they just hiked and enjoyed Atlanta’s lush woods.
And even though Sophie had lived in the area nearly her entire life, and Dave had only moved there recently, he knew every picturesque, wooded area in the entire greater Atlanta area, beautiful parks and trails that Sophie had never known existed. They had been to several since they met, but this particular park, Overton Park, was Sophie’s favorite.
The trails weren’t too long or difficult to reach, but they were densely wooded so you felt as if you were in the deepest forest even though you really weren’t. Now, in early fall, the shedding trees reached up to the sky in stark, zigzagging patterns, branches of orange, yellow and red leaves crowded together far above. One thing Sophie had always loved about Atlanta was the absolute profusion of trees. Trees flourished in every part of the city, even encroaching on interstate ramps and busy roadways. In the summer heat, this same bright path of limbs would be cool and dark under a thick canopy of leaves.
Today they were taking a steeper path into the densest part of the forest. Cerberus bounded ahead of them down the unfamiliar trail. “Here, boy. Come back!”
Cerberus blissfully ignored his master’s order. Dave looked over at Sophie with a lopsided grin. “At least one of you is obedient.” Sophie didn’t answer, basking in the fondness she saw in his eyes. Who could have imagined her life would be so different from one year to the next? Last year she had been at the depth of her darkness, the time when she really thought she might die. But here she was, alive and kicking.
“I love you, Dave,” she said in the silence of the bright afternoon. She immediately blushed. Where had that come from? The look he gave her banished her fears. He stopped on the path and took her head between his hands, lowering his lips to hers. He kissed her softly at first, then more roughly. His hands clutched her close, pressing her to his front. She felt his lips against her ear, a caress and then a whisper.
“I love you like crazy, Soph. I really do.” He slipped his fingers through her hair and massaged her nape in that possessive way that melted her. “Are you happy with me?”
“God. Yes. I can’t even explain…” She peered up at him, feeling dangerously emotional. He smiled, kissed her again and drew back to gaze at her.
“All I care about is that you’re happy. Please remember that. If you ever don’t feel happy with our relationship, you need to let me know.”
“Yes, I know.” He told her that at least once every week, and in the beginning he’d said it daily. Her heart was so full of love and gratitude for him, for the positive changes he’d brought to her life, changes she was responsible for too. On her own, she’d enrolled in some night classes, math and chemistry refresher courses. Dreams she had banished forever were suddenly alive again. Going to medical school seemed possible. He made her feel she could accomplish anything.
They were still gazing into each other’s eyes when Cerberus came bounding back through the brush, carrying a branch twice as long as he was. The gravity of the moment was broken, and Dave released her with an affectionate squeeze. He took up his camera case and started fiddling with lenses and settings. Sophie watched him, fascinated by the quick dexterity of his fingers. She never wanted him more than when he was taking photographs. There was something about the way he moved, or the way his eyes seemed to capture the surroundings as effortlessly as his camera did. He looked up at her then.
“You today, Sophie. It’s time.”
Oh crap.
He had wanted to photograph her for a while, but the idea of it terrified her and she had held him off with excuses. She didn’t want to see herself in the mirror of the lens—Dave’s ruthless lens that captured every detail.
“I look awful today. I’m not dressed for modeling.”
“Hmm.” He smiled at her hiking clothes, thermal tee and faded jeans, with a glint in his eye. “That doesn’t matter. You’re going to take them off.”
Her mouth dropped open. “No. No way.”
He turned away, shrugging. “We’ll see. Come. Follow me.”
Ugh. Dom voice. Sophie lifted her chin and walked after him. Cerberus dogged her heels, dragging his huge branch along the ground. She wouldn’t panic yet. He wouldn’t do anything to humiliate her. He was an unrepentant sadist but humiliation and exposure weren’t his thing, although he surely realized he could hurt her terribly that way. Well, she had no choice but to trust him. After all he had done for her, she owed him this. She would be brave.
He led her along a path that arched up into an even denser area with some wild shrubs and bushes. They climbed up and ever farther away from the main area of the park. The way the trail was situated, they would have plenty of warning before any other hikers came upon them. It gave Sophie some semblance of comfort.
At last he stopped in a sheltered area where five large trees rose close together from the root-riddled ground. Between the roots, leafy bushes had taken shelter, creating what Sophie, as a child, would immediately have seen as a fort or secret clubhouse. Dave led her to the center of the trees. She waited for an order to strip, but he only stepped back and looked around, perhaps framing the scene in his mind. Then he told her to sit, arranging her beside an overgrown shrub.
“Just relax.”
He backed up, looked at her a moment, then lifted his camera. The black lens obscured his face and disquieted her with its impersonal blankness. She looked away.
“Look at me.”
Sophie looked up reluctantly. “Do you want me to smile, or…?”
“You can look however you feel. If you don’t feel like smiling, don’t.”
Sophie kept her face raised to him with an effort. She felt too tense to smile but she didn’t want to frown either. A moment later he stopped and pulled out a different camera. This one had an even bigger lens, and he loaded it quickly with 35mm film. The
click
,
click
,
click
of the film advancing in the camera sounded loud in the stillness. Cerberus gnawed carelessly on his stick a few feet away.
“Why don’t you shoot Cerby?” Sophie suggested, in a last-ditch effort to avoid the lens.
“I’ve taken a thousand photos of Cerby. Now I’m photographing you. Is this really so difficult?”
She shrugged. “I just don’t understand the point.”
“The point is that I’m in love with you and I want to photograph the woman I love.”
“But you see me every day. Why do you need photos of me?”
“Because I’m a photographer. I see photos of you in my head all the time, and so I’d like to have some in real life.”
Sophie pursed her lips. “I’m not photogenic.”
Click, click, click.
He photographed her anyway, despite the petulant look on her face.
“Enough. Don’t make me cut a switch, girl. Because I will.” He went back to fiddling with the camera settings, so Sophie gave in to the urge to roll her eyes. He looked up a moment later and smiled at her. “Give me your shirt and your bra.”
She gave him a look but complied. He laid them over his shoulder and crouched down in front of her. She hugged herself, hunkering down behind the bush, although it wasn’t really dense enough to hide her. He began to snap photos again. She expected him to order her to stand and expose herself, but he didn’t. Just
click, click
,
click
.
“Look at me.”
Sophie dragged her gaze to the camera. She couldn’t really look at him. All she saw was the scrutinizing lens. Barry had never photographed her, although it would have been an effective torture. No, he played harder games. Was this a game? She didn’t smile as she stared at Dave’s camera, and he didn’t ask her to smile. After what seemed like hundreds of clicks but probably wasn’t, he stopped to reload.
“Hanging in there?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Are you too cold?”
Just lie and say yes.
But she couldn’t lie to him. He would know.
“Not cold. Just feeling a little exposed.”
“I’m almost done.”
He clicked the film door shut and crouched down again, closer this time. He held the camera like he held her when he loved her—assured and focused, but with a gentle touch.
Click, click, click, click.
“Stand now, Sophie. Just stand there behind the bush. Take your jeans and panties down but don’t take them off. I won’t photograph you from the knees down.”
Great. That was reassuring. She only paused a moment before she obeyed. He watched dispassionately, observing her as his subject and not his lover. She undid the button of her jeans and drew down the zipper, taking a deep breath to work through the feelings of nervousness. They were snug jeans so she had to do a kind of dance to shimmy them down over her hips. She stood and faced him, lowering her arms to her sides. She tried to be open to him. He had told her many times that he found her scars beautiful, a mark of her survival and strength. He hated when she tried to hide them, when she covered herself and felt ashamed, so she tried hard not to feel that way. Or at least not to look as though she felt that way.
She sensed the weight of her breasts in the cool open air, and her nipples tightened to an almost painful hardness. He drew in a breath and looked at her for a long moment before lifting the camera to his eye. As his fingers adjusted the controls—the zoom, the focus—she felt used by Dave in a very hot way. He ravished her with the camera. He seized her image again and again, his finger clicking on the shutter. She thought she understood now about those cultures that believed photos might steal your soul. He snapped two, three times more, then lowered the camera in an abrupt motion.