“Yes,My Angel,” I answer. “Anything.”
“Why do you call it ‘cupcake’?”
“What?” My tone relays my total confusion. My eyebrows are drawn down, and I’m looking at her like she’s lost her mind, or maybe I have, as I’m trying to figure out what she’s asking me.
“Just a few minutes ago, when you said you wanted to feel my cupcake. I just wondered why you call it that,” she asked, embarrassed and not looking at me.
I search my memory.When did I say I wanted to feel her cupcake?Then it hits me and I burst out laughing. My whole body shakes and I can’t stop it. She’s just so damn cute and this is the icing onmycupcake.
“I actually said, ‘Let me fill you, cupcake,’” I answer, emphasizing the words. “But now that you’ve given me the idea, I actually like it. Now I can have my cupcake and eat it, too,” I explain with more laughter.
She blushes bright red but laughs with me. “Well, I’m glad I’m so amusing to you,” she says playfully, pretending to be offended.
“You areveryamusing to me and I think that’s a great idea. Now, when I want to see that beautiful blush color on you when we’re in public, I will just remind you of how much I love your cupcakes,” I half-tease, knowing full well that this term is now sticking with us for good. “I like icing on my cupcakes, too,” I add for good measure. She buries her head again but I feel her body shaking from laughter.
Coaxing her from the water back to the beach where our clothes wait is a bit more challenging. She is convinced that as soon as she steps foot outside the water, a hoard of people will come around the bend and see her. Being ever the gentleman, I stay low in the water as far as I can go, then jump up and run to the rocks. After grabbing our clothes, I run as fast as one can run in the Pacific Ocean and dive into the water beside her. We manage to get dressed and find that putting wet clothes on underwater is actually easier than putting wet clothes on out of the water.
Good to know for future reference.
We walk back to the hotel in soaking wet clothes, talking, laughing, and just generally enjoying each other’s company. My arm is draped around her shoulders and her arm is wrapped around my waist. I lean over to her ear and whisper, “Don’t forget,My Angel, you are all mine now. There’s no turning back.”
Instead of tensing up, like I expected her to, she leans into me even more and wraps her other arm around me, circling my waist. She stops walking and positions herself directly in front of me. When she tilts her head to look me in the eye, I see it glistening in her eyes. I know the look, I know the expectations her mind has set, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. She loves me.
“I don’t want to turn back, Dom. Iwantto be yours. I don’t ever want to leave you. Thank you for being so understanding with me,” she says earnestly. “I’m sorry for letting you down at first,” she says while fighting back tears. “I never want to disappoint you again, Dom.”
I stroke her face and lean down to kiss her tenderly. “You didn’t disappoint me,My Angel. That’s part of my responsibility—to help remind you, guide you, and teach you. I agreed to that when I agreed to this lifestyle. There are two areas where I am alwaysDom—the bedroom, or wherever bedroom things may happen, and in my business. Remember that, and most anything else will work itself out naturally.”
“Okay. I can do that,” she answers. “Does that mean I can’t kiss you first?”
“No, not at all. I love when you’re affectionate with me. What I mean is, you need to learn to trust that I won’t hurt you—physicallyormentally. Anything I do to you will bring you great pleasure, if you just submit to me and relax.”
She hugs me tightly and her hand darts to her face. I know she’s wiping away tears, comparing me to that fucker who hurt her. If I ever get my hands on him, hewillknow what real fucking pain is. Hewillknow what it’s like to be submissive at the hands of another who only wants to cause harm. Hewilllearn his fucking lesson.
We draw curious looks from people as we walk by in our fine clothes, soaking wet and plastered to our bodies, but neither of us really cares. In my life, if I have learned anything, it’s that people will think good or bad of you based on their own experiences, their own beliefs, and their own prejudices. I’m not changing who I am to try to fit someone else’s mold, so the only opinions that matter are from those whom I love and who love me. Since none of these people fit into that category, Sophia and I stroll across the sand to our cottage like we own the place.
“My Angel, it’s time for a hot shower, don’t you think?” I ask her in my bedroom voice as we enter our temporary abode.
“Oh, yes, Idefinitelythink a hot shower is in order!” The gleam in her eyes lets me know that she’s also ready for round two.
Giving her my naughty grin, I quickly toss her over my shoulder and sprint to the master bathroom. She squeals with laughter and playfully swats me on the ass before grabbing it and squeezing it in her little hand. This surprises me at first but I quickly find that I like it. Actually, I fuckingloveher hands on me in any way I can get them. Once in the bathroom, I set her on the counter and turn the shower on to let the water get warm.
Situating myself between her legs, I cup her face in my hands and gingerly kiss her lips. Then I work my way along her jawline and all over her neck. There are certain places on her neck that cause chill bumps to spread down her arm and leg on that side of her body. It’s fascinating to watch her body’s reaction and I do it several times over.
Sophia is watching me curiously as I stroke the most recent round of chill bumps on her arm. “You like that, don’t you, Dom?” she asks, her tone that of being proud of bringing me such strange pleasure.
“I do like it—a lot. It’s like you’re connected to me, Sophia. I can touch you or whisper to you and your body instantly responds. It knows you’ve always belonged to me.
“Let me get you out of these wet clothes, baby. You must be freezing and I’m playing with your chill bumps. That’s not very gentlemanly of me, is it?” I ask with a smile as I remove her wet shirt and bra. “Now I canreallyenjoy looking at you. It was a little hard to get a good look with you plastered to me in the water,” I say with a wink at her.
“Can I help you out of that wet shirt?” she asks shyly. “I didn’t get a good look at your tattoo or your awesome body with you crushing me to you in the water,” she retorts with a smile and squenches her eyes at me.
I put my hand on my chin, as if I’m in deep thought, and reply, “I really can’t think of a single instance where it would beinappropriatefor you to take my clothes off of me.” I drop my voice an octave and finish, “Have your wicked way with me,My Angel.”
