Page 75 of The Southern Submission

“I fucked upagainand no one will want me now. I’ll never make it as a real journalist,” she sobs, her voice muffled and thick with tears, her back heaving under my arm.

I rub soft circles against her skin as she cries. “Let it out, sweetheart,” I coax.

“I can’t do anything right and I’m a failure.”

“You’re doing so good. Keep going, baby.”

She needs this emotional release, and it turns out the physical pain from our play is a good way for her to connect and process her feelings. I’ve learned she’d rather keep everything bottled up inside, building walls and keeping me out, but I’m not going to allow that from now on. She’s going to deal with shit as it comes, and we’re going to do it together so I can hold her up and give her my strength when she doesn’t have enough of her own.

“I can’t even make it at a second-rate paper. I don’t deserve anything better.” She presses her face into her arms and bawls.

Okay. That’s enough of that self-defeating nonsense she’s used to tear herself apart. I scoop her into my arms and hold her to my chest, letting her cry into my shoulder as I soothe her. It’s time for me to build her back up.

“You’re one of the most talented writers I’ve ever read. Not only because of your work on the Haute List, which has always been entertaining and evocative, but for your real news stories that have managed to make even the most mundane subjects interesting. You have a brilliance for storytelling that goes beyond reporting facts or gossip. Millions of people read the Haute List because of your writing, not just your subjects.”

I kiss her temple and smooth hair away from her face. Hersobs have stopped and her tears slowed, but she still carries an aura of despondency that I need to eradicate with praise and a plan.

“You're not a failure. You’ll figure out what comes next in due time. You’ve been given an opportunity to pursue any avenue you want now that you’re not tied to the fucking Gazette where they wanted to keep you mired in mediocrity. Your time to shine is here, and big things are coming for you, my love.”

She looks up at me through red-rimmed eyes, her dark lashes wet and spiky. “The Southern Sounder offered me a job as a page six gossip columnist today.”

I smile brightly and place another kiss on her forehead. “See, it’s already looking up!” I’d connected with that paper earlier with an inquiry about a position for Ainsley on staff. She could easily write circles around everyone that’s currently part of that paper. I’m glad they reached out to her after all. It wasn’t guaranteed, but they do owe me some favors for a few stories I’ve given them first access to.

“I’m not going to take it. I don’t want to write gossip and resurrect the Haute List in newspaper form, and I don’t want to work for a paper that’s only interested in me because of my notoriety. I want to grow, not stay complacent in my mistakes.”

My heart swells at her integrity and dedication to doing what’s right. She has an opportunity to take a job that would be so easy, a natural next step, and a solid income, yet she’s not content to stay within the gossip sphere where she was unintentionally hurting people with her words. I’m so fucking proud of her for making this choice, as difficult as I know it must be when she’s so uncertain of her future. It doesn't bother me at all that the little bit of coaxing and string-pulling I did was for nothing. I’d rather Ainsley make this decisionherself and feel good about it than take a job she hates and feel like she’s contributing to the problem.

“The right opportunity will come along and feel like the perfect fit. You have something special that others will recognize. Wait and see. In the meantime, I need to fuck this perfect ass of yours and fill my favorite fuckdoll up with cum.”

Ainsley stares into my face with a confused expression. “You still want me after I’ve had a total breakdown?”

I lick her cheek, tasting salt and sadness.

“I like it when you cry,” I growl. “It turns me on when you experience true emotion and release those pent-up feelings instead of boxing them away and not dealing with the shit that comes at you. I especially like it when you come apart and the tears come with it. So, yes, Princess, I still fucking want you after your breakdown. Now, take off my pants like my good slut and show me you want me to fuck you like a whore.”

Ainsley slides off my lap and obediently works my pants free. I lift my hips for her and watch as her eyes grow hooded with desire when she sees my cock swollen and leaking precum for her again. She runs her finger down the line of barbells, making my cock twitch and I groan. She crawls back on the bed and points her backend my way, pressing her face down into the mattress, stretching her arms out in front of her so her ass is in the air and showing off the jeweled plug. One of her cheeks is cherry red and has an impression of my palm standing out in stark relief. This woman is so fucking hot. So mine.

“I’m ready for you, Daddy, come use my holes.”

My control was barely holding on by a frayed tether before her taunt. Now I’m at her back, fisting my cock and sliding into her wet cunt before she can finish her amused laughter. She groans at the fullness, grabbing the duvet cover and shaking with the unique feeling of being so full. She hasno idea what she’s in for.

“Not so funny now, is it, Princess?” I growl.

I roughly fuck her, bottoming out in her dripping pussy and she gasps with the fullness. I slide out to the tip, gripping her hips to slam her back down on my cock. She makes an unintelligible sound and claws at the bed, drool dripping from her plush bottom lip as her mouth hangs open. Good. I managed to shut off her brain and she’s out of her head with desire and simply feeling in a primal sense now.

I haul her up on her knees and against my chest, wrapping my hand around her throat so I can keep her close and kiss her while I play with her clit. Her hands come up to my forearm and behind my head, holding me tightly and keeping me as close as I can be as she kisses me back fiercely. Don’t worry baby, I’m not going anywhere.

I pull away from her mouth, dragging my lips to her ear. “You’re my perfect cock sleeve, here for my pleasure, and you’re not going to come until I tell you you can.”

I continue my brutal rhythm, her sounds growing more erratic and urgent as I slowly circle my fingers at her clenching pussy and squeeze her throat tighter. She’s desperate, her body closing in on the release I keep just out of reach. It feels so good to hold her here, edging the elusive orgasm she wants so badly, not able to take a full breath. I move my fingers faster.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Princess.”

Her breath stutters, cunt clamping down on my cock as she races to her climax, no sound releasing through the hold I have on her. I ease up my grip, needing to hear her beautiful sounds. She gulps in a breath and instantly whimpers her pleasure, an aphrodisiac to my ears.

“Just like that sweetheart. You sound so pretty coming for me.” My voice is guttural. Ifucking love the way she feels around me and how hard she makes me with her noises. I could get lost in a moment like this, give her anything she asks for, and more. She’s my queen. My goddess. The fucking sun I orbit.

“Payton,” she gasps, pulling me back to the moment with her nails raking down my arm as waves continue to roll over her.

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