15. Seth

SETH

When Bridget arrives,she is dressed just as I specified. In a dark blue dress.

Low cut to show off her cleavage and skintight to display her tiny waist and round hips.

As the ma?tre d' escorts Bridget to the table I've reserved for our business lunch, I rise from my seat to welcome her.

She is docile, eyes lowered, lips sealed.

Those lips…painted with a dark red lipstick I've never seen on her.

I can't shake the idea of her lip prints left around my cock.

Keep it together, Seth. Lunch hasn't even started.

I greet her with an open hand. "Hello, Bridget."

She takes my hand, lets me pull her close so I can kiss her cheek.

All outward appearances are friendly. Casual. If people we knew saw us together, they would think nothing of it.

Well, they'd probably be confused that we're even deigning to dine together since we have a decade's history of fighting like cats and dogs. But I am fine relying on their confusion to keep our entanglement hidden.

As I pull away, I am captivated by her scent. Sweet and floral, as always, her perfume and shampoo interacting to create a landscape for my senses I'd love to live in the rest of my life.

The ma?tre d' pulls out Bridget's chair for her.

My temper spikes, but I have to keep it in check. Of course, he doesn't know that it's my job to care for her in that way. She is my sub, yes, but there are things I will do for her regardless of that dynamic. Because I am a gentleman.

And because a tiny part of me would love for Bridget to think of me beyond the dynamic.

It was easy to fall into intimacy when we have promised each other a release we have been craving. But once she's trained, I want to make sure she wants to stay in my life as my sub.

And I won't be sharing her with anyone.

Which means I have to be good enough to be seen with her in the light of day as well as dominate her behind closed doors.

I'm getting ahead of myself, of course. There will be lots of…barriers.

But for now, Bridget is in front of me, and we are having a very important training lunch.

"Thank you for joining me today." I settle back into my chair.

"Thank you for having me." Her eyes are still downcast, a small smile on her lips.

My chest warms. "You may look at me when we are out in the world, Bridget."

Bridget's eyes rise to meet mine. Stunning green, complemented by her blue dress.

"And you may speak more freely," I add.

Her lips curl in a nervous way. She tucks a lock of her long dark hair over her ear. "Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize."

"I just want to show you that I am committed to this."

I bite my lower lip and give her a tiny nod. "I haven't doubted that for a moment."

She smiles again, shoulders rising with what seems like an inhale of pride. Such a sweet sub for me.

"Of course, there are rules for when we are out in the world, and I'd like to teach them to you."

"Yes, Si–" Her eyes widen. "Seth."

I can't conceal my smile.

Bridget giggles and covers her mouth. "Sorry. Force of habit, I think."

"Well, in public, Seth works just fine."

"Yes, Seth."

My cock jumps. When she is submitting to me, Sir sounds amazing, but so does my name. In all the years we've known each other, my name has come from her mouth either in trepidation or in frustration. Now it's said with respect, even enjoyment.

How can something make me so horny and so content at once?

To me, sex and domination have been a way to fill a void inside me. Not make me content.

Dominating Bridget does more than fill that hole. It adds a cherry on top of this fucked up sundae.

A server appears beside our table dressed in a tailored suit. "Good afternoon, can I get you something to drink to start with?" The server gives us both genial glances.

Bridget hops to attention, opening the skinny, leather clad drink menu in front of her. "Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't had a chance to–"

I grab the menu, snapping it closed and snaking it out of her hand. "We'll have a bottle of Dom Perignon. 1975, please."

The server glances at Bridget for a brief moment before assuring me, "Very good choice, sir."

He scuttles off quick to retrieve our champagne.

Bridget's eyes widen. "Do I want to know how expensive that bottle is?"

I chuckle. "Probably not." Close to fifteen thousand. But that's a drop in the bucket for me. Not to mention, she is worth every penny. "You will never order around me, Bridget."

She cocks her head to the side. So adorable. So pure.

"It is my duty to feed you. Is that clear?"

She gnaws on her lower lip.

"Don't be scared." I hold out my hand to her across the table.

Bridget places her palm in mine.

The small gesture makes my insides sing with something separate from deep, carnal desire. It's…sweet.

I don't crave sweetness.

I might now, though, as long as it's Bridget's.

"This is something I need as your Dom. You understand, right?"

"Yes, I understand, Si-Seth."

I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb, then remember we are in a restaurant in the middle of the day.

Sure, a hand hold and a kiss on the cheek are innocent enough. But anything more might be misconstrued.

I squeeze her hand, then retreat, pressing my hands to the tops of my thighs to avoid doing anything more stupid.

Her eyes skitter across the restaurant. Everyone here is engaged in their own business dealings, from the literal to the figurative. I doubt they're concerned with Bridget and me in the corner.

"If we go out to dinner with friends, that will make for some weird conversations with our friends," she says with a gentle giggle. "Especially if you do it in front of Sonia."

Fuck our friends. Fuck Sonia.

I lean my elbows on my table and clasp my hands, looking over at her in a dark and appraising way.

Bridget's body shifts with my gaze. Her muscles go rigid, and she sits a little taller.

"When we are alone, I don't want to talk about anyone but us, Bridget. Is that clear?"

Her cheeks flush. "Yes. I'm sorry."

I swallow. As her Dom, I don't owe her explanations on my rules. But I don't want to hide things from her. In a strange way, I want her to understand me. "All the mentions of our life beyond our dynamic remind me of…perversion."

Bridget's eyes grow sad.

"I've already had to do the mental gymnastics as a younger man of not feeling ashamed of what I liked."

Her brow furrows.

I nod. "You're confused."

"I am. I just can't imagine you being ashamed," she says in a soft voice I'd rather have right in my ear as my cock is inside her than across the table.

I knew her as an innocent young girl. I postured myself to be her intimidating older stepbrother to keep her away from me.

She wasn't supposed to know anything about me. To keep everything safe and sanctified. But she needs to understand we all struggle at one point or another. Even Doms.

"In my first sexual encounters, all I wanted was to control, to dominate, to make sure everything went my way. But I had to yield to vanilla encounters. I knew what I wanted but didn't know how to express it. Wasn't finding the right kind of women to express myself with."

The server comes over with the champagne, pouring the Dom Perignon into two glasses and then letting the bottle rest in an icy bucket tableside.

We freeze in our conversation, a beating heart between us.

The wonderful thing about servers at luxury establishments is that they make it a part of their job to be able to read a table. Our server disappears without trying to rush us to order our food, allowing us to pick up where we left off.

"Then, since I was old enough to try the Underground, I did. I watched scenes, much like you did. Only a few, though. Because I knew what I wanted. What I needed. And unlike you, I didn't have the desire to wait for the perfect sub." I let my eyes fall to the bubbles in my glass of champagne. "Didn't have the restraint to wait for you."

Bridget smiles.

I rest my forearms on the table and look her in the eye. "What I'm trying to say is, I have done my time feeling ashamed and when I'm with you, I don't want to be reminded of them." The people who won't understand. Will never understand."Clear?"

Bridget nods, eyes dipping low, the submission clear in her posture. "Clear."

I take my glass of champagne off the table. "Another rule," I change the subject with grateful ease. "You will always wait for me to do anything first. Except sit, of course. I will drink first, take my first bite of food."

"Yes, Seth."

I sip my champagne. Then, I look to her. She takes her glass, sips it too. A half-smile creeps onto my face, and I realize my pulse is racing.

I've exerted my dominance in the privacy of the Underground, but never out in the real world. Never thought I'd find someone I could do that with. And while I am keeping my composure, I am afraid I'll fall into cracks here and there.

"And Bridget?"

"Yes, Seth."

So good. So good for me. "If you break any rules out in public with me…" I let my words trail off and hang in the air.

Bridget squirms in her seat just a bit.

"I will keep track. And you can count on those punishments later."

Her pupils dilate.

Dirty girl.

I eye her champagne glass. Her lipstick has transferred.

Once again, I am thinking about her mouth on my cock.

I grab my champagne, knock it back fast, then push myself out of my chair.

Bridget's brow furrows.

I step next to her, place a hand on her shoulder, my fingers following the line of her collarbone.

My body concealing her from sight should anyone be looking at me, I slide my hand so the tips of my fingers are placed at the base of her throat, reminding her of her collar. Of her promise. "Follow me."

She does a double take to the table. "But lunch–"

I raise my eyebrow.

Bridget rises to her feet, her expression needy and intent on being the best girl she can.

I lead her through the restaurant to the black, marble-floored hallway leading to the single occupancy bathrooms. I open one of the doors and gesture for Bridget to step inside.

She is flushing all the way down her neck but does not question.

As she slips inside, I keep lookout to make sure we won't be spotted, and no one will come knocking. And once we are in the clear, I get into the bathroom after her, closing and locking the door.

When I turn, Bridget is leaned up against the bathroom vanity, her fingers clinging to the black marble countertop, bright bulbs haloing her.

She is an angel. My angel.

Though I have come here with a different intent, I can't resist her.

I close the space between us, cupping her head in my hand and kissing her as deep as I can.

Bridget gasps as I press her against the vanity. Hard. Not to hurt. But to show her my need.

I slide my tongue into her mouth, let it roll with hers.

For someone so inexperienced, her kisses indicate otherwise. Graceful and passionate.

The act of oral service is a lesson.

But sometimes a man cannot wait for a lesson to present itself.

Sometimes, he must act because the woman before him is so beautiful and so submissive and so eager to please him.

And he has waited so many years to have her.

No woman has ever made me lose control.

Bridget is the one exception.

I rip my mouth from hers, my hand gripping her hair tight.

Our noses are smashed together, we breathe as if trapped.

"Get on your knees." A demand. A plea.

"Yes, Sir."

Oh, fuck.

I didn't account for that. But we are behind a closed door…

Bridget falls to her knees before me, her hands folded in her lap, patient.

I undo my belt and pants, then pull them down to release my cock and, fuck, it's harder than I realized.

Bridget's green eyes widen.

I wrap my hand around my member and stroke it. Slow and gentle. "You do this to me. I want you to remember that you do this to me."

She nods.

"You've never had someone in your mouth." I am not fully confident that is the truth. Virginity is one thing. All the elements surrounding it…

Bridget shakes her head.

"But you're eager to have me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

I push away a smile.

With two fingers, I guide her chin up.

Our eyes meet.

I push my cock against her lips, slide it across her mouth, letting my precum coat her lips like gloss. Then, I sneak my thumb up to her lower lip, pull on her lower jaw. Her lips part, skimming the head of my cock.

"I will not force my cock in your mouth." That's an unnecessary exercise of power. Besides, for it to be enjoyable for us both when I fuck her mouth, it requires training. A lot of it. It will happen one day, but not today. "I just want you to enjoy it. Explore."

Bridget nods.

Her tongue darts out, and she swirls it around the head.

I brace every muscle in my body to keep from losing it.

Her pink tongue against my reddened member is more beautiful than I could have imagined.

For a moment, she adjusts to the feeling of me on her tongue. The corners of her mouth adjust.

"Want you to know how I taste." I sigh. "How it feels… Take your–"

My eyes flutter shut, pleasure coursing through me. "Take your time."

Bridget follows my instructions to a tee. She runs her tongue down my length, using her fingers to pull and prod. And though her touch is clumsy at first, it feels amazing.

Just to have me in her palm is such a beautiful feeling.

"You're doing so good."

She kisses the tip of my dick.

"Take it in your mouth, baby. And look at me while you do."

Bridget adjusts her gaze to meet mine.

"Oh, fuck…" I murmur.

Her mouth parts and engulfs the head of my cock. Tight lips.

Almost as good as her pussy.

Almost.

But this is not about pretending or replacing what I could feel between her legs. It's an act of surrender.

On one hand, she is surrendering to me. To pleasing me.

And I am surrendering to the pleasure she wants to give me.

I reach out and press a hand against the wall, the other hand stroking her hair as she works the head and next few inches with her mouth.

Do not thrust. Do not buck.

It feels so good I just want to fuck her face, but I need to be strong. I need to let her do it in her own time.

Funny enough, I'm training Bridget, but I'm training myself too.

My cock throbs, skewering me with pleasure.

"Yes, good girl. You're such a good girl."

Bridget moans around me.

"Christ, fucking hell," I mutter.

Her lips vibrating around me adds another level of pleasure that makes it even more difficult to hold onto my composure.

Bridget's speed increases. She takes me deeper. Deeper.

My hand clenches against the tiled wall, my fingernails threatening to rip out the grout with how hard I'm trying to keep control.

Her excitement reaches a boiling point, and she moves to take me all in.

"Wait–"

Bridget gags, her body convulsing, a beautiful fucking sight.

But it surprises her, and she releases me from her mouth to cough, to try to steady herself. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"No, baby, don't be sorry."

Baby is not in our lexicon. But it's familiar and endearing. I wouldn't mind Bridget being my baby.

I am so taken by Bridget. Her beauty. Her intelligence. Her elegance. Her need.

"That's normal. I'm big, and taking me all in will require some training," I explain. "You did nothing wrong, okay?"

"Thank you, Sir."

I wrap my hand around my cock that is now stained with her lipstick, just as I wanted. It aches for release. "Look at me and open your mouth."

Bridget does so.

"Tongue out."

Her tongue lolls onto her lower lip.

I start pumping my cock.

Shit, it's not going to take much. "You want me on your tongue?"

She nods.

I nudge my cock onto the cradle of her tongue and continue. "I'm going to come into your pretty mouth." I try to remain measured. "And you'll swallow every bit of me."

Bridget can't speak, but she nods once.

Her glimmering eyes look up at me. Like I am somehow her everything…

I ride the thought.

My hand moves faster and faster until my insides heave, and the orgasm arrives, harsh and unyielding. I bite down my cry as my cock spurts into her mouth.

And knowing my come is landing on her tongue, that she is accepting me into her, makes me come even more until my cock has jerked and tremored to completion.

Her eyes flutter shut. She swallows. She smiles.

She's mine.

"Lick me clean, baby."

Bridget does not hesitate, wrapping her hand around the base of my ebbing cock, lapping up the little bit of cum on the tip. She is precise and detailed.

She doesn't want to be done.

My good, good girl.

Without speaking, we return to the table as if nothing happened.

The server returns and, just as I explained, I order Bridget's food for her.

No salads for my girl. Only the best. Filet mignon, broccoli rabe, risotto, not to mention an appetizer of caviar for us to share.

She deserves it.

Neither of us can stop fucking smiling.

For Bridget, it makes sense. She is always sweet to everyone, always willing to face the world with optimism.

I'm not a person who smiles. I've had too much taken away from me to smile much.

With Bridget in my life, though, I think I'm going to find reasons to smile again.