Cute.
Leigh-Leigh.
He opened the note and read:
Olivier,
Our time tomorrow, on your knees in bed, Bluetooth in position, towel before you.
Entirely harnessed.
Full, please.
Yours as you are mine,
~Amélie
Shit.
Yeah.
In deep.
Yours as you are mine.
And suddenly, with a feeling he didn’t know if he’d ever felt in his life, he couldn’t wait for the morning.
* * *
Exactly as required, balls and cock harnessed, Bluetooth earpiece at his ear, plug up his ass, on his knees with the towel spread out before him, he made his call the next morning.
“Olly,” she answered.
“Like my presents, baby,” he whispered.
“Then please, my chevalier, turn on your plug then put your hands behind your head. First setting only, please.”
He grabbed the remote, did as told, and she guided him through it. Doing it swiftly because she undoubtedly thought their time was limited.
And he listened to her get hotter and hotter in his ear as she told him shit she wanted to do to him, shit he wanted, and she jacked his ass as what she was giving him made him automatically and desperately fuck the air in his harness that was tightening as his cock swelled inside it almost like she had her fingers wrapped around it.
“My stallion needs a tail,” she whispered when he was holding on by a thread, ready to blow. “Long, so when I have you in his position, your tail seated deep, and I’m pulling your seed from your cock personally, your tail will spread out behind your ass that’s full for me like the beauty all of you is to me.”
Without her command, at her words, his groan came deep and surprised as his body arched way back, shoving the plug deeper, and he shot his load across the towel on the bed.
He was still shooting when he heard the soft noises she made when she came.
At her noises, he kept shooting, jacking the remote to top speed before she told him he could, pumping his cock through the air, grunting through a prolonged orgasm (almost) the likes of what Amélie could give.
Though she was still giving it, she just wasn’t there.
When he was coming down, he shifted the plug to low and whispered, “Sorry, Mistress.”
“Can I take it from that you’d like a new toy?”
A tail up his ass? Fully her pony?
“Amélie.”
He said no more because he didn’t know what to say.
How that was her asking more from him than she already had, he had no idea.
But it was.
And the shit of it was, he’d come the minute she suggested it.
“Many things, Olly,” she started softly, taking him to the place she could sense he needed to be, and he turned the vibrations of the plug completely off, “even with what we have, what we give to each other, can remain a fantasy. You can like it in your mind, as can I, we can use it in times like these, but you can share you don’t want it in reality.”
“Am I at ease?” he asked. She’d called him Olly, but he wanted to be sure.
“Of course,” she answered gently.
Carefully, he dropped to a hip away from the towels, and then to his back, cocking his knees to accommodate the plug still seated inside.
And then he went where he wasn’t sure he should go, over his head once more, not knowing if he should ask this of a Mistress and also not knowing if he should ask it at this juncture with Leigh.
But he asked it.
“You ever have a pony, baby?”
She didn’t reply immediately and he felt his gut get tight.
“Not mine to have,” he stated quickly, his voice as tight as his gut. “Forget I asked that, Leigh.”
“I think we both can agree we’re at a place where this is yours to have, Olly. And no. I’ve never had a pony. Not like what you mean. I’ve often looked at tails to enter that into play but…” She hesitated before she went on, “Oddly, I think you understood even before me why I didn’t buy them.”
“And why’s that, Leigh-Leigh?” he prompted when she didn’t share.
He knew the answer but he needed to hear it.
“When I found him, to earn that honor, he needed to be magnificent.”
His gut relaxed and at the same time warmed.
“I’d like to give you a tail, Olly. Only if you think you’d like it.”
“You give me what you want, baby.”
“Do you think you’ll like it?” she asked, and fuck him, he could hear uncertainty from his Amélie.
It was cute.
It was looking out for him.
Even when she had it all together, when it came to him, it was still so fucking her.
“I think you can make me like almost anything.”
The uncertainty was still there when she murmured, “That wasn’t a wholehearted affirmative.”
“Leigh, you want to give the honor of tailing me, no doubt you’ll make it rock my world. So I love it that you’d discuss this with me instead of springing it on me but you take care of me, if you’re right there or you’re over a phone. I trust you, sweetheart. So give that to me and doing it, let me give you something.”
She sounded surprised, and unnerved, when she returned, “You give me something, many somethings, many somethings that mean the world to me, and you do it constantly, Olly.”
“You get me,” he said low and firm.
“Ol—”
Okay. Maybe she didn’t.
“You know you give me more, Amélie. You know I’m only me with you.”
Fuck, was he giving her all this?
Fuck.
He was.
And he kept doing it.
“Only time, even with the others before you, I was able to just be me.”
“I’m … I honestly don’t know what to say, mon amour. With this, it’s me who’s honored.”
“Good, ’cause it’s an honor.” That was again low and firm. “One you earned and I’m glad you did.”
She made a noise he’d never heard, like a feminine growl he felt in his balls, and when she spoke, he felt it somewhere else completely.
“I’m finding this immensely frustrating because I’d very much like to kiss you right now, darling.”
He started chuckling, doing it to fight the sensation that seemed to be wrapping his chest, and through it said, “Good, ’cause I’d like that, too, very much.”
There was a smile as well as a sweet hotness to her purr of, “Hmm.”
He stopped chuckling and was grinning at the ceiling when she went on, no smile, her tone still sweet but serious.
“We’ll enjoy ourselves together next week, Olly. But while we’ll play at my ranch, I’d also like to ask you to think about us taking the time to have … a chat.”
Oh, they needed to have a chat.
The thing was, Olly didn’t know if he was looking forward to it or dreading it.
But he needed to give it to her. He needed for both of them to get out where they were so they could figure out where they were going.
And he needed that so he could sort it in his head and be sure to protect her in their future.
He didn’t know if they had one. He knew that he didn’t want this to end. Just thinking of it sent a stabbing pain in his side like someone sunk a blade in his ribs.
He also knew it’d be hard work, undoubtedly painful work, and perhaps too much to ask from both of them to get there because, when she found out who he was, what he did, there were ways he wouldn’t fit in her world outside the club that she would feel.
Though, he figured he’d feel them more.
It was going to be Olly who’d need to make all the compromises, compromises that to a man like him would be sacrifices.
So they needed to go over that and make that decision.
But before that, before they went there, he needed to
weigh what she gave him along with all the other. Not the orgasms but her cute and her sweet and her taking care of a friend or worried about another sub or asking him how much time he had so she could take care of him without making life difficult for him. And he had to weigh that against what their future could be and how he knew down to his bones he didn’t fit in hers at the same time he wasn’t sure how she’d fit in his.
Not Mistress Amélie and Olivier. That worked fucking great. He felt it. He knew it. She took him there and he was settling into it. And touching that kind of freedom, learning to let that go in his mind, finally, after having it fuck with his head for so long he barely remembered a time it wasn’t doing that, he’d owe her huge.
No, it was everything else.
So during this chat, it might mean the end. And he fucking hated that.
But if that’s what it led to, he needed to give that to Amélie because she was digging under his skin and doing it deep.
However, he had a feeling he was already under hers.
She was right, they needed more time together before their chat so they could come to terms with what that chat would bring.
Because it also might not mean the end. Olly just needed to lay it out for her so she’d know who he was and where he stood and they could both have the information they needed to find their way in whatever the future was going to bring.
“Yeah, we’ll have a chat,” he agreed, unable to keep the unease out of his voice. “Definitely.”
“I must let you go, darling,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” he lied.
He could talk for an hour, two, four, and he was feeling that lie. Feeling that she didn’t know what he did, how he was at the Honey under scholarship or that he’d come to that club green.
She didn’t even know his last name.
And in feeling all that, Olly was finding it was time to share all of it too.
Fuck.
“Would you like more tomorrow morning?” she asked.
That was it. That was his focus.
He had her.
For now.
And he’d take all she could dish out while he did and give her all he could in return.
“Yeah, gorgeous.”
“Okay, Olly, but only tomorrow. No more after. Not anything, sweetheart. I want you prepared for when I have you next.”
Yeah, he’d take all she could dish out while he had her.
“Fabulous,” he muttered, both not looking forward to that at the same time knowing the payoff would be huge, leaving his cock be so she could take care of it when she had it again.
There was a smile in her voice when she said, “Tomorrow, my Olly.”
“Tomorrow, Leigh-Leigh.”
My Olly.
Fuck.
Yes. Goddamned yes.
He was under her skin.
And in thinking that, he remembered something Jenna had told him, giving the knowledge to him not hiding that she wanted to get what she was explaining from him.
This being that a good sub subbed. Gave up everything, gave over everything, trusted implicitly. And when they got what they got in return for that, they shared in every way they could that they liked what they were getting, how good it felt, but most, how much it meant. And doing all that, he or she controlled their Dom, owned their Dom, for that Dom would live to push those boundaries so they could give their sub everything.
Olly had a feeling he was there with Amélie.
And he liked knowing he was there, a lot, maybe too much.
He just needed to get the shit sorted in his head if that was actually too much.
Or if it wasn’t.
If too much wasn’t too much.
If instead it was everything he needed to be free.
Of a lot of things.
AMÉLIE
Thursday morning, at precisely the time Olly had been calling so she could play with him over the phone, Amélie paced the hotel room, her phone in her hand.
She had to catch a taxi in one hour to go to a business meeting. She’d decided, if Olly was unavailable, it was the perfect time to get these nuisance meetings out of the way.
Definitely a much better time than having to leave town when Olly wasn’t unavailable due to work commitments, instead she was, meaning more times of separation.
That wouldn’t do.
She was ignoring what that said about how deep she was with Olly and instead obsessing about calling Olly.
He’d phoned her once just to talk.
The other times he’d phoned and made it clear he wished to play.
He’d also sounded strange when she said she wanted them to have a chat at her ranch. It was a strange she didn’t like. It seemed wary, hesitant, and Olly was neither of those, not while he was communicating.
That could mean anything.
But Amélie’s overactive mind was centering on only the possible meanings that were dire.
They’d had their last phone date yesterday morning. It had been fulfilling for them both. She’d then ordered him to prepare for their reunion by abstaining.
She was not expecting him to call.
That didn’t mean she didn’t want him to call.
However, the minutes were ticking by, she’d soon have to leave, and she wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice. It had been twenty-four hours (and fourteen minutes).
That was fourteen minutes too long (it was actually about twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes too long but she wasn’t admitting that).
“Blast,” she whispered, stopping her pacing and dropping her head to look at her phone.
She touched the screen, found his listing in her contacts and felt an instant, irrationally intense desire to have a picture of him in the little circle by his name.
“Now I’m acting like a besotted teenager,” she muttered to herself.
This did not make her stop her finger from touching the button to make the call.
She put the phone to her ear, listened to it ring, and again began pacing.
She halted abruptly when Olly’s voice came through, sounding deeper and husky, oddly like he’d still been asleep when he should be up by then, preparing for his day.
And her belly clenched when he answered with, “My Mistress feels like bein’ sweet.”
She stood staring unseeing at the shiny toes of her nude Louboutin pumps, completely at a loss of what to say.
He thought she’d phoned to play.
He wanted her to be phoning to play.
Did that mean he didn’t want her phoning just to connect, not through play?
“Leigh?” he called, sounding more alert, more himself.
Her head snapped up. “Olly … um, Olivier, yes…”
She wasn’t prepared to offer him what he clearly wanted.
It was highly likely she could be in the mood for Olly at a moment’s notice.
But there was something dragging at that mood as worries assailed her that he didn’t want to hear from her unless she intended to, as he put it, “jack his shit.”
When he’d phoned just to talk, he was worried about how she’d been when discussing her parents.
Perhaps, as it could for any human being with a modicum of sensitivity (and Olly had more than a modicum), this worry overrode his boundaries. But just for that.
Only for that.
“Leigh-Leigh,” he said softly. “You okay?”
“I … uh … I…”
God, she was stammering.
Spit something out, Leigh! her mind shouted.
“If you … if you’re in the mood—” she began.
“Leigh, talk to me,” he ordered. Now fully alert, his voice had taken a tone she’d never heard from him. Demanding. Authoritative. Inflexible. “Is everything okay?”
Entirely contradictory to her sexual nature, she felt a pleasant shiver skid over her skin at his tone.
Entirely consistent with the female she was, the man in her life exhibiting a fierce protectiveness at th
e hint something might be amiss with her, she felt that shiver gather, giving her a warm, sweet feeling in her throat.
Like she’d just swallowed a healthy dose of fine whisky.
“I’m out of town,” Amélie blurted.
“Fuck,” he bit out then spoke again swiftly, concern coating every word, “What is it, sweetheart? Something happen to a friend? Someone in your family?”
She closed her eyes.
There was her sweet beast.
She took in a deep breath, feeling the release of the tension that was beginning to make her feel sick to her stomach.
God, she should have been far more sensitive when Mirabelle was going through this as her relationship bloomed with Trey.
The breath she took was a breath she needed to take but she knew she took too long to take it when Olly demanded, “Leigh, baby, tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“I just wanted to let you know I was out of town. For business. There’s nothing wrong. I was just calling to, well … let you know,” she finished insipidly.
She closed her eyes tight.
His words sounded in her head.
Leigh, talk to me.
She shook her head sharply.
What is it, sweetheart? Something happen to a friend? Someone in your family?
Damn.
Everything from him meant everything.
Was she falling in love with a man whose last name she didn’t even know?
That staggering thought barely came before she realized he hadn’t said anything.
It was her turn to call his name.
“Olly?”
“Here, Leigh-Leigh,” he said quietly.
“I just…” Speak, Leigh! “I’m in San Francisco. There were some meetings I was putting off. I thought with you tied up with work, now would be a good time to see to that. I’ll be back for our date at the club on Monday.”
“When’d you leave?” he asked.
“Yesterday afternoon,” she answered.
“Was this sudden?”
She shook her head even if he couldn’t see her. “I decided to go on Monday and started making the plans then.”
“And you couldn’t tell me when we talked on Monday?”
Her eyes slid out the windows, where she had a lovely view the Golden Gate Bridge, doing this while she reminded him, “We were doing other things when we spoke Monday.”