Page 112 of His to Possess
“She belongs to me,” I say in a louder voice, wanting everyone to hear me. “And tonight I’ll prove it.”
A spotlight comes on, lighting up the bed behind us on the stage. I grip Lilah around the hips and pull her to me as I walk back to the bed. Once I’m sitting on the mattress, I waste no time in bringing her over my lap.
“Ten strikes, I think,” I tell the room. “For displaying herself in front of all these strangers.”
She squirms across my knees and I smirk, loving how eager she is for me.
“The only question is, what shall I use?”
“A paddle,” one of the men says. “I want to see her ass turn red.”
“No, a cane,” someone else argues. “She’d look so lovely with stripes.”
She squirms again and I press a hand to her back, both to keep her still and to connect with her, to remind her that I’m here with her, that she’s safe. That it’s okay to enjoy the tawdriness of the moment, to enjoy feeling objectified and displayed, because I won’t let anything happen to her. We’ve talked enough about her fantasies for me to know she’s already wet. Every time I’ve suggested we have an audience, her pussy has dripped with desire for me.
Tonight, we make it real.
“I think she deserves my belt,” I say, and there’s a pleased murmur of agreement from our audience and a shiver from Lilah in my lap. I hope she’s thinking what I am—of that night in New York when she first let me push her limits, when she first told me she could handle more.
I pull the belt from my trousers slowly, wanting her to hear the sound of the leather sliding, to anticipate how it will feel when it meets her flesh. I move even slower as I pull her pink dress, so like the one she wore that first night, up over her arse. I have her angled so the men can see the curve of her, but no more. We might both get off on some exhibitionism, but I’m not ready for anyone to see the places that only belong to me. That’s not something I’ve ever given a second thought to with any other submissive. With Lilah, everything is different.
My girl shivers on my lap and I grin. So fucking perfect.
I only give her a single word in warning. “Count.”
The leather belt makes a satisfying thwap on her bottom, and she gasps before squealing out the word, “one.” I feel a rush of pride at her compliance, at her lack of hesitation. I reward her with another hard smack of leather again flesh.
“This sub needs to know that she belongs to me,” I tell the room, spanking her again. “She needs to know that she’ll never offer herself to another man again.” I feel the slightest simmer of anger at the words, at the memory of her up on a different stage, in a room full of different men. Dangerous men. Men who would have taken what was mine.
Never again,I think, bringing my belt down again, harder now. “Four,” Lilah gasps. She whimpers on the next strike. “Five.” The next time my belt makes contact, she cries out, jerking her hips to the side even as she gasps out the word six.
“Still.”
I wait while she takes deep breaths, gathering herself. After a moment, her body relaxes and pride courses through me. Such a natural submissive, and she’s all mine. I’m the luckiest fucking man on the planet.
“I almost lost her once,” I say, not caring that everyone can hear the way my voice catches. “Never again.”
The need to be inside her rises with those words, with the memory of that terrible night without her. I think about her standing on that stage, looking so afraid when I burst into the room. It was so close—a few minutes more and I could have been too late.
Then I think about her on the first night, the way I’d felt to see her wrapped up in that pretty pink dress, auctioning herself off to the highest bidder. I remember the hunger in those men’s eyes. The rage I had felt when anyone else dared to compete with me.
And that’s why I wanted to do this scene tonight. To wipe away the fear and uncertainty of those two memories. To remind us both that I won her, in the end. That I always will.
I toss the belt away, even though we haven’t reached ten. I don’t care about the rest of the punishment. I need to be inside her, claiming her in the most primal way I know how. I can still remember how frantic that urge had been back at Rendezvous, even though I knew it was wrong. How there was a part of me that wanted to take her virginity, her innocence, right then and there. To have her in front of all those men who would take her from me.
Tonight, I get to do that. Not because I paid a million dollars. Not because I pressured or manipulated her. But because Lilah chose me. Lilah trusts me. Lilah loves me.
I flip her onto her back on the mattress, moving into position over her. I hear someone chuckle at my sudden move, and I can guess what they’re all thinking. The famous Philip Matthews, best Dominant east of the Mississippi, completely under the spell of a submissive. I doubt there’s ever been a time when I abandoned a punishment midway through, not without a safe word being spoken. But I don’t give a shit. I need Lilah, and I don’t care who knows it. In fact, I want them to know it. I want everyone to know exactly what I’ll do to keep her as mine.
“Spread your legs,” I demand, my heart singing when she does. “Arms over your head. Hold the headboard. Don’t you dare fucking move or I’ll tie you down.” Her eyes glimmer with excitement at my threat, but I hope she doesn’t push me. As satisfying as tying her would be, it would take too long. I need her now.
I have my zipper down and my cock out in seconds. I brush a finger quickly through her folds, just to make sure she’s as wet as I imagine her to be. I grunt in satisfaction—she’s completely soaked, just like I thought. “Good,” I tell her. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Then I’m pushing inside her, so hard that her body slides up the bed. She lets out a little whimper, of pleasure mixed with pain, and the sound lights my blood on fire. I don’t give her a moment to adjust, to catch her breath. My hips immediately fall into a quick rhythm, stroking as far inside as I can get on every thrust.
“This is how I imagined taking you that night,” I mutter into her ear, making her cry out with the strength of my next thrust. “So rough and hard, so no one would doubt who owned you.”
“You do, sir,” she sobs. “I’m yours.”
