*^*A Taste of Honey*^* ~ SoapyMayhem
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter10
**Conversation**
**Edward
Cullen**
"Lauren, get us some more coffee - then make yourself scarce,"
Emmett barked at the bottle-blonde who'd been fawning over me for the last
three hours.
"Do you need anything else, Mr. Cullen, anything at all?" Lauren cooed, seemingly unfazed by Emmett's
irritable-grizzly attitude.
"Just the coffee," I replied, chuckling incredulously at her
obvious behavior.
The moment she was out of earshot, I laughed loudly.
"Damn, Em. Where did you get her from? She's so fucking
annoying."
"They were running a two-for-one special at Idiots-R-Us," he
retorted dryly.
"Two-for-one?" I questioned, laughing, knowing he was
referring to more than just ditzy Lauren.
"Yeah, her and Tyler, that good-for-nothing, cocky-ass assistant of
Rosie's. I swear I catch that boy scoping my wife's tits on a daily
basis," he shouted. "I'd pay good money to watch Rose peg that
jack-ass."
Emmett, as hilarious as usual, had me laughing hysterically.
Rosalie pegging someone was not on a list of things I ever wanted to
see. I shivered in response, reflexively clenching my ass cheeks at the thought
of that kind of intrusion.
"Thanks for coming in, cuz. This day would have been a hell-of-a-lot
worse if you hadn't shown up," he admitted as Lauren sauntered in with a
silver tray and two steaming cups of coffee.
"You like it with extra sugar right, Edward?" she replied, running her long French nails over the
sleeve of my t-shirt. Her voice grated on my nerves, and I struggled not to
snarl at her.
"I can make my own coffee, thank you," I replied coolly,
eyeing her wandering fingers with disdain. She took the not-so-subtle hint and
huffed before walking out the door.
Lauren never even served Emmett's coffee, a fact that had me cracking up
again when his face turned red and he stomped over to where she left the tray.
"I oughta fire that ignorant bitch," he muttered, only causing
me to laugh harder.
Emmett and I sat quietly for a while, thumbing through page after page
of phone calls and emails - correspondence between the client and victim. I
tried not to let the content disturb me.
My thoughts turned to my baby girl and the agonizing state my cock was
in when I left this morning. Damn… I didn't think I'd ever wanted to fuck a
woman more than I had at that moment. She was going to drive me insane.
"You seem different," Emmett mentioned, startling me from my
thoughts.
"Huh?" I answered dumbly.
"Yeah, I can't put my finger on it, but there's definitely
something different. It's like you're more at ease with yourself -
calmer," he observed. I sighed, anxiously scrubbing my hand over my face.
I debated telling him about Isabella and how she'd awakened something
inside me. There was no way I was going to admit to the lovey-dovey shit I'd
been feeling the last few days, but I figured I could at least get his opinion.
"Well, you know I told you I had guests, right?" Emmett
nodded, waiting for me to continue. "Alice is staying for a couple months,
and umm… the girl who won Mom's scholarship is there too." I looked down
at the paperwork in front of me, knowing that if I looked up, he'd see those
sappy emotions written all over my fucking face.
"You're fucking jail-bait, Eddie?" he shouted, sounding both
shocked and impressed.
"Shhh… Fuck no. She's eighteen, and we're not fucking… yet," I retorted defensively.
Emmett let out a low whistle and shook his head in disbelief. "What
does that sweet, young thang think of your playroom? I bet she shit a brick
when you showed her that."
"I haven't… she's a virgin, Em - fresh out of Catholic school. I
can't… I don't… fuck…" I rambled anxiously.
"Shit… little one's got you by the short and curlies, eh?"
Emmett teased, moving a stack of papers to the side so he could focus his
attention on me.
"You could say that," I replied with a smirk. "She slept
in my bed last night."
"Seriously? Fuck. I need to meet the little minx that has Senator
'Hard-Ass' Cullen wrapped around her finger in less than a week. She must have
some kind of magic pussy."
"Shut-up, asshole," I chastised, trying not to laugh - mostly
because I was pretty sure Isabella's pussy wasmagic.
"You're having Rosie and me over for dinner as soon as she gets
over this stomach flu shit," he decided with finality.
"Fine… whatever."
A few hours later, Emmett finally seemed to be caught up enough that I
could leave. It was nearly three, and I had a half-hour drive back to the
estate.
To say I was eager to see Isabella was a gross understatement.
All I could think about was getting her in my bed again, but there,
lurking under the surface, was the fact that we still needed to have "the
talk."
My chest constricted painfully at the idea that Isabella might be
disgusted with me when she learned the truth. I had to handle this delicately.
The things I wanted to do to Isabella were… fuck… beyond erotic, but I had my
limits, just as she would if we were able to make a go of this.
I needed a game plan. There were so many ways I could introduce her to
the lifestyle. Simply handing her my list of limits was probably not the right
way to go about it.
To Isabella, toys I enjoyed using for pleasure and teasing could seem
like torture devices. Floggers, for instance - I had a couple and they were all
relatively soft, meant to caress the skin, to tease and entice, but with all
the religious imagery that surrounded Isabella throughout her life, she might
imagine Jesus being beaten with a whip or cat-o-nine tails - tearing and
ripping the tender flesh. I couldn't bear for her to think I'd ever hurt her
like that.
I would hardly call myself a sadist. Hurting Isabella was the last thing
I wanted. Now, that wasn't to say I didn't mix a little pain with my pleasure -
spankings, biting, nipple clamps, rough fucking, and wax play, for instance,
but I wouldn't dare punish her the way I had Carmen, my previous Sub who
thrived on pain and humiliation. I just couldn't see myself treating Isabella
that way, much less either of us enjoying it.
My baby girl was the kind who needed to be cherished and savored.
When I walked in the doors to the estate, I wasn't sure where to begin.
I called out for Isabella a few times but got not answer.
Her bedroom was the first place I looked. I almost turned away when I
realized she wasn't there, until I noticed the rumpled blankets and stack of
books on her bedside table - Submissively
Yours, Master's Possession, His Dark Temptation, and The Claiming. A few of those, I recognized as erotic photography
books and the rest looked like trashy BDSM romance novels. I wondered about the
content of the books and whether Isabella had read any of them. That was when I
noticed the bookmark placed about a third of the way through Master's Possession.
Unable to quell my curiosity, I quickly snatched the book and flipped to
Isabella's marked page. Skimming through, I realized the characters had just
finished a scene together and that the Master was bathing his Submissive. I
flipped back to the actual scene and braced myself for the worst.
I was pleasantly surprised by what I'd read, as the scene wasn't much
different from one I might find myself planning.
First, I'd
take my time tying Isabella up using soft ropes, all the while bringing her to
orgasm over and over. Then I'd have her take me with her mouth, and holy shit…
I'd love to fuck her ass. Though, I myself would have fucked her pussy first.
Shit… just
thinking about it made me hard as a goddamn stone.
The fact that the scene hadn't been too extreme and that the author had
accurately portrayed proper after-care was a relief, especially knowing
Isabella had read it.
Damn, I had to have her, and I just couldn't wait anymore. We needed to
have that talk.
I steeled myself before heading to my office.
I heard her in there before I saw her. Too bad my little dream of
finding Isabella waiting naked for me in the playroom wasn't a reality.
She was humming along to a tune I didn't recognize and rolling a coat of
paint onto the wall.
Her mahogany hair was mussed up and in a high pony-tail, while her
shorts, a pair of worn cut-offs, were almost obscenely small. My mouth watered
at the sight of her black, paint-splattered t-shirt. It was gathered and
knotted at the side leaving a nice pale sliver of skin, that I wanted fucking
lick.
Unable to contain my need, I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms
around her middle. The action forced my painful hard-on to press against her
ass and lower back.
Holy fuck. I was a
goner.
"I missed you, baby," I groaned, my breath heavy against the
shell of her delicate ear. Damn, this girl felt so right in my arms, and though
I'd been here for half an hour, it wasn't till I held her that I actually felt
like I was home. Maybe that should have scared me, but it didn't.
"Mmm… that feels good… I missed you too," she sighed softly,
leaning into my embrace.
Slowly, my hand wandered her stomach and hips until I slipped it between
her legs to rub the denim seam of her shorts. Her thighs clenched on my hand,
and she moaned loudly as my lips met her smooth, warm neck.
Fuck… she tasted so good I couldn't help but suck and nip at her skin. I
wanted to fucking mark her as mine.
Harder, I pressed against her and sucked her neck until I knew things
were getting out of hand. I was about ready to tear her shorts off and fuck her
against the wall.
Reluctantly, I pulled away, loving the little grunt of frustration that
escaped her plump lips.
I know,
baby - me too.
"Isabella, it's time for our talk," I barely managed to say
through the haze of lust that filled my voice.
She turned to look at me, her face flushed and eyes dark. Fuck, she
looked as horny as I felt.
I clenched my fists and gritted out a lusty command. "Meet me in
the kitchen in fifteen minutes, and wear something that doesn't make me want to
strip you naked and fuck you against the wall."
Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a little 'o.' I raised a brow at
her silently, willing her to respond to my command - just a little test of her
instincts.
She didn't disappoint.
"y-Yes Sir," she replied nervously.
I left the office and went to my bedroom to change my clothes. If I was
going to show Isabella more of me, she needed to see me in full "Dom
mode." The jeans and t-shirt I was wearing weren't going to cut it.
I slipped out of my pants and underwear removed my t-shirt. Then I
grabbed a pair of black slacks that fit a bit tighter than I normally wore and
a black button up dress shirt that I only buttoned about halfway, left
untucked, and rolled up the sleeves. My hair was a mess, as usual, from pulling
at it anxiously on the drive home. I shook it out at bit but left it a little
disheveled.
I wasn't quite ready to show Isabella my playroom yet, but I needed to
give her an idea of some of the toys I'd be using on her so she could acclimate
to the idea of my dominating her. Confident that she was no longer down the
hall, I made my way to the playroom to get a few items.
Just as I finished laying out all the toys, Isabella walked into the
kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans and tight blue blouse. I still wanted to strip
her naked and fuck her against the wall, but she could have worn a potato sack
and it wouldn't have changed that fact.
Once I'd finished ogling her, I noticed her eyes were wide and she
seemed to be frozen, just standing there staring at the sight before her. It
wasn't quite the reaction I was hoping for, but it was better than what I'd
thought or expected. At least she hasn't
run away screaming… yet.
"Have a seat, Isabella," I ordered softly, motioning to the
chair across from me. I noticed my hand shook a little from the welling
anxiety. God, I was a fucking nervous
wreck.
She seemed to snap out of her trance a little - just enough to follow my
command.
"Would you like to ask me questions first, or would you prefer it
if I just talked - told you about myself?" I asked quietly, hoping she'd
opt to do the asking.
"Umm… maybe you could tell me a little. Then could I ask
questions?" she asked nervously.
I wanted to hold her hand - as if it would give me strength, but she was
too far away. There was also the fact that it might put too much pressure on
her. I needed her honesty.
"Very well… I guess I should start by telling you about myself -
some things you wouldn't know by reading an interview or biography." I
began hesitantly. "When I was growing up, I was… I guess you could say…
promiscuous. Not because I was a player or obsessed with sex, but more because
I was always trying to figure out why I every time I had sex, it felt like
something was off or missing. At one point, I even wondered if I was gay, but
you can attest that that's not the case." I smirked at her, laughing a
little at the memory of my experimental days as an undergrad. She smiled and blushed.
"So… yeah, it took me a few years to figure out what I needed, and even longer to accept that
what I needed didn't make me a bad person or some kind of deviant. I needed control, and once I figured
that out, everything just seemed to make sense. I could focus and be satisfied,
knowing that I was being who I was meant to be," I explained, leaving out
the part about how Tanya nearly destroyed that sense of self-assurance. What
took me years to come to terms with, I'd almost lost in one afternoon with her
harsh words.
I looked to Isabella, noticing she had about a million questions behind
her eyes. I wanted to answer them, but now that I'd started talking, I needed
to get it all out.
"I'm what some might call a Dominant, or a Dom for short, but I'm
nothing without a Submissive - someone with whom I have mutual trust and an
agreement to stick to one another's predetermined limits - what we want to try,
are willing to try, or are not willing to try. Trust is very important, as well
as finding someone with limits close to my own. These toys are a few items I
enjoy using, and I'd like to think that I'm skilled with them, though it has
been a while, I must admit." Isabella blushed when I motioned to the toys
in front of me. Goddamn - I wished I
could read her thoughts at that moment.
The stunned look that previously plastered itself to Isabella's face had
slowly changed to a look of understanding and intrigue, both of which made me
feel much more hopeful - not to mention the fact that she was still sitting
there.
"I suppose you have a million questions for me?" I gathered
from her questioning eyes.
She bit her lip and then nodded.
"Do you umm… want me to be your... Submissive?" she asked
anxiously, wringing her hands together and averting her eyes.
"Baby girl… I… I'd like you to be so much more than that," I
began, "but yes, I would love it if you were my Sub."
"What do you mean by 'Be more than that'?"
"I mean, I want to date you - publicly, and for you to be my
girlfriend. I don't care about your age, or what anyone else thinks. I mean,
unless you do, and if you did, I would understand. Because I am old enough to
be your father, and you might not want people thinking I'm you father or some
shit -"
"- Edward," she interrupted, putting an end to my embarrassing
rambling. "I don't care how old you are. I was worried that you would, but
no, I really don't. I also can't believe that you'd want to claim me in public,
but hell, who am I to stop you?"
"Isabella. You are beautiful and so fucking smart, baby girl. I
would be crazy not to want you beside me," I replied seriously. Her age
didn't matter to me, though had she been a year younger, that might have been a
different matter altogether.
She smiled, but it diminished quickly. Her face suddenly became neutral
- emotionless. I was waiting for it - that specific question. As smart as she
was, I knew she'd ask.
"You won't hurt me."
It was a statement, not a question as I'd thought.
I'd expected - "Why would you want to hurt women?" or "Do
you get off on beating women?" but no - as with everything else about
Isabella, she was unpredictable.
"What makes you think that?" I hedged guardedly.
"It's just a strong feeling I get, and I just can't imagine that
the same person who held me last night like I was something precious would
intentionally hurt me. Maybe that's naïve, but that's how I feel. Would you
hurt me, Edward?" she replied softly, her question almost rhetorical.
Unable to keep myself away from her, I moved from my chair, closing the
distance between us.
"Never, baby girl," I promised, cupping her cheek as I moved
to my knees in front of her. "I would never intentionally hurt you."
She smiled and leaned forward, letting me kiss her soft lips. I moaned
into her mouth, before remembering how much I still needed to discuss with her.
I punctuated our deep kiss with a small peck on her lips before pulling away
and moving back to my chair.
It occurred to me that I'd actually been on my knees in front of
Isabella, and that fact somehow didn't bother me in the slightest.
"I'm sure you have some more questions, right?"
"Well… umm, yeah… what the heck is that thing?" Isabella
replied, pointing at the shiny red object that sat in front of me. I knew my
eyes were sparkling with mischief.
"That my dear, Isabella, is called a butt plug, and I'm sure you
can guess what I'd like to do with it," I explained with a wide smirk
plastered on my face.
No comments:
Post a Comment