Page 41 of QB Keeper
“Tanner, look at me,” I say through clenched teeth. He does, but I can see the desperation in his eyes. He’s hoping I don’t bring it all back up, and as much as I don’t want to relive that day, I need to know.
I raise my chin, finding all the confidence and bravery I can muster. “Say it. Say it out loud,” I order.
“Grace,” he replies, and I can hear his voice shake.
“Say it!” I yell. “Tell me you broke us for nothing! Because I didn’t go off to California anyway! I was so devastated by you ripping my heart out that I couldn’t even bring myself to leave Hope Harbor! I stayed, went to community college, and worked my way to the top at the boutique, all while hoping you’d come back for me, but you never did! I haven’t designed a single piece since that day, Tanner,” I say, seething at this point because I realize that his choice fucked us both so badly that we were left empty and alone because of it. “It’s dumb because I shouldn’t have given you an ounce of my life after you walked away, but you didn’t just take a piece of me. You tookeverything.And I fucking hate you for it.”
I release a shaky exhale, my eyes burning into him as I vibrate with rage. I need to get out of here. I will my feet to move. I beg them to, even. But when Tanner drops to his knees where he stands, I may as well have roots attached to me because there’s no way I’m going anywhere. I stand there completely silent, unable to breathe as he looks up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, bringing his gaze to mine. His shoulders are pulled low, and the regret for what he’s done is painted across his expression. “What can I do to make it better? I know I can’t fix it overnight, but I’ll do anything. I’ll give you anything you ask for. Just say it, Grace.Please.”
I want to tell him there’s nothing that he can do, but the truth is, I don’t know anything anymore. I know that I still love him, and that fact makes me even angrier, because I know that if I didn’t, it would be a hell of a lot easier to walk out of this room. To leave him here on his knees, begging me for forgiveness. But for some reason, I just can’t bring myself to go.
I stand there, staring at him as he puts his hands in his lap and bows his head.
It’s his submission. To me.
My mind is going in a thousand directions all at once, but I can’t put any solid thoughts together right now. All I know is that I want to punish him. I want to punish him for leaving me alone all these years and not finding the happy life he said he wanted. For making me wait and never coming back. And for making me feel all of these things I thought I was strong enough to let go of, but once again, are proving just how weak I really am.
I amso sickof being weak. I just want to take my power back.
“Crawl to me,” I say, my voice shaking. I expect him to hesitate or tell me no, but he doesn’t. He leans forward onto his hands, and hefucking crawls. I back up as he moves, not stopping until I feel the backs of my legs hit the throne behindme. I stay standing, waiting for him to reach me before I sit. This position, me in this big, beautiful chair, and him on all fours in front of me, gives me a feeling of control so intense, that it takes on a life of its own. I feel like a goddess in front of this man, who at this point, would do anything for just an ounce of my forgiveness. But I can’t just give it. If I’m ever able to move on from what he did to me, it’ll be because he earned it.
I slide my hands up my thighs, lifting the t-shirt that lies over them. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I don’t stop myself when my instinct tells me to grab the sides of my panties and slowly bring them down my legs. I lift my feet one at a time, pulling them off until the thin fabric is balled in my fist.
“Open,” I order. He sits back on his haunches, and as soon as he obeys, I shove the black lace into his mouth. His eyes slam shut, and he takes a deep inhale through his nose as he whimpers around them. I feel an overwhelming urge to make him pay for what he did to us. Seeing him like this, paired with the amount of power I’m feeling in this position has me so turned on, I can barely see straight. My head is telling me how wrong this is, but my body is saying something completely different.
I open my legs, allowing him to see my pussy, that’s probably leaking onto the velvet of the chair already. I wonder if he can tell how hard my clit is throbbing just by looking at it. It’s like I’m a completely different person as I bring my hand down and swipe my middle finger down my slit, watching his eyes as they widen.
“Do you miss it?” I ask, using my fingers to spread myself for him.
“Mhmm,” he mumbles into the fabric. His breathing is heavy and his face twists in pain when I enter my pussy up to my first knuckle, but he doesn’t look away. He just watches me play with myself. I want him to touch me so badly, but Idon’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from switching places with him, begging him to dominate me like I’ve craved since the day he left. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to do that with him, but right now? I’m too angry. I want him to hurt. I want to humiliate and break him like he did to me.
“Look at you,” I mock. “Such a little slut on your knees, begging for the pussy you threw away.” I add a second finger, pushing them both inside until my palm is flush with my hot, wet skin. I pump in and out, warmth beginning to coil in the pit of my stomach. “The tables have turned, haven’t they?” I breathe. He nods his head, leaning forward slightly, but I put my foot on his chest, pushing him back.
“Uh uh,” I scold. “No touching. No smelling. Just sit there like a good boy and suck on my panties while I make myself come.”
I’ve never touched myself in front of anyone. I suggested it to Cash once, but he was always threatened by anything that made me feel good that wasn’t him. It’s the same reason I was forced to hide my toys in a box under the bathroom sink. It only took one knock-down, drag-out fight about them for me to never acknowledge them again in front of him. He referred to it as ame problemthat I needed a little extra help getting off during sex with him. He even told me I needed to talk to a therapist when I suggested trying out different types of bondage or impact play. So, I made it easier on us both by faking orgasms, leaving him in bed while I went to the bathroom to shower, and taking care of myself while he unknowingly slept like he didn’t have a single fuck to give.
Sometimes it was easy. All I had to do was stroke my clit and think about being tied down and fucked to get myself off. Other times, I’d end up on my knees and elbows, on the floor with a vibrator in one hand and my throat squeezed in the other. In the really desperate situations, I’d close my eyes and bring myself back to the lighthouse, coming almost instantly when I imagined a familiar voice in my head, demanding meto get there. I tried my best to block him out, especially since he was gone and I was with Cash, but I’ll admit I don’t feel nearly as bad about it knowing that I was more than likely being cheated on for the entirety of our relationship.
Now that I’m looking at the face I desperately tried not to see every time I touched myself, knowing he’s really here, on his knees for me, I know it won’t take much for me to go over the edge. So, I keep my fingers moving in and out, using my other hand to rub my swollen, sensitive clit.
“Oh my God, yes,” I moan, putting on a show. Tanner’s teeth are clenched around my panties that are hanging out of his mouth, and I can feel how hard he’s breathing as puffs of hot air ricochet off the skin of my thighs. Beads of sweat gather at his temples as he tries his hardest to stay focused on my pussy, barely even blinking while he watches me fuck myself. I can feel my resolve crumbling every time I look at him, and I know I won’t be able to go without letting him touch me for much longer. And to be honest, I don’t want to.
“You want to feel it?” I ask. His eyebrows pinch in as he nods his head quickly, clearly unashamed at how desperate he looks below me.
“One finger,” I tell him, spreading my legs wider. He wastes no time, reaching up and sinking his pointer finger in alongside mine, causing a delicious stretch as I adjust to the new intrusion. I try to hold in my moan, but it’s in vain because just knowing a part of him is inside me is so overwhelming, I have to recite the state capitals just so I don’t explode right now.
We work together, bringing me to the precipice faster than I’ve been able to do on my own, probably ever. I’m moaning and grinding into our hands, unabashedly using our fingers to coax my desperate pussy toward release.
“I’m so close,” I grit out. “Do you want to feel my cunt suck our fingers in when I come, Tan?”
The corded veins in his neck are visible as he swallowsroughly, trying to reel himself back in so he can reply. “Mhmm,” he whines into my panties, making my walls involuntarily tighten against us at the sound. I can hear the angst in his voice and breathing, and even though I’d love to keep him inside me, I also want to make him feel even an ounce of the ache I’ve felt for him since he walked away.
“Too fucking bad,” I say, catching him off guard when I shove him back, knocking him off balance. His finger slips from me just as my orgasm hits, my inner muscles contracting around mine as I come on a loud scream. My eyes are closed, and my body is shaking as I work myself through it, only opening them when I’ve finally started to float back down to earth. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest as I look at Tanner, who’s still kneeling in front of me with my panties hanging from his clenched teeth. His posture is slumped forward and his eyes are glazed over with unshed tears of frustration. He looks so small and defeated, but I can’t bring myself out of this power-hungry state long enough to show him even a semblance of mercy. At least, not yet.
I lean forward, gripping onto the soaked lace and carefully pulling it from his mouth. I swipe my fingers, that are still wet with my cum, gently across his top lip, allowing him a small taste of my pleasure. He immediately darts his tongue out, lapping it up like he’s dying of thirst and it’s the only drop of water for miles. My eyes lock onto the motion, and I have to suppress my moan as the reminder of what his mouth is capable of triggers an aftershock that makes my pussy muscles spasm again.
