29. Bridget

brIDGET

The restaurant is empty,save a single table at the center of the floor.

Windows surround the room, including a series of skylights, casting every inch of space in warm pink and orange light from the Manhattan sunset.

What takes my breath away, though, is Seth. A vision in a slim fitting brown, plaid suit, complete with a tie and matching pocket square. Like he's just stepped off a runway in Milan, looking the appropriate amount of scruffy and suave at once, and his hair looks desperate for my hands to run through.

Damn, he looks so good.

He stands beside the table, holding a bouquet of roses because, of course, he is. And just because roses are cliché doesn't mean I'm still not swooning over them.

"Don't just stand there, Bridget," he says with a half-smile.

I realize I've been frozen in place, captivated by his presence, his beauty.

I haven't even said hello. But when he calls for me, I go to him. Try to remain steady and graceful, though excitement roils in my gut.

We haven't seen each other in a week. Since the night Seth told my father we wanted us to be together. Didn't want to give my father a full heart attack by leaving at close to midnight to spend the night with Seth.

It turned out to be good I didn't go home with him. We decided to take the time apart, build the anticipation to see each other, give us the clarity of mind to really determine if we still wanted to do this.

My feelings haven't changed. Not for a single moment.

When I reach Seth, so eager for a kiss, he slides his arm around my waist, the flowers cradled between us, and presses his lips so soft to mine I think I might die from how tender he is with me.

He pulls away first, catches my eyes before I'm able to look away. And he smiles in a way that I only started seeing over the past few weeks.

A smile that allows me to see his unsureness. His excitement. His hope. "These are for you." He lets out an awkward half laugh. "Obviously."

I take the bouquet in my arms, cradling them almost like a baby. "Thank you."

I've never smelled roses like these. The scent is so strong, yet fresh and natural. Not at all nauseating. "They're beautiful."

"Not nearly as beautiful as you."

I flush. Corny as hell. But I love it.

"Step back for me. Let me see you." Seth extends his arms to create my catwalk.

I back up and give him a pose.

He beams and takes a deep inhale.

I wonder if the blood is rushing to his pelvis as we speak.

"Turn for me."

I do so, slow and steady, so he can see every angle.

"My god, you look stunning."

"Deborah gave it to me." Of course, I'm wearing blue. It's his favorite, and I will do anything possible to please him, whether it's as small as a favorite color or as big as bending over right here and…

"Deborah…Angelise? Well, that was nice of her. What's the occasion?"

I bite my lower lip, holding in a smile. "I have news."

Seth's eyebrows jump. "Well, let's sit, and you can tell me everything."

Seth is, as always, a perfect gentleman, leading me to my seat, pulling it out for me. I mutter my thank yous and receive a soft kiss on the crown on my head before he takes his place across from me.

As soon as we sit, we are attended to by two servers. One takes my roses to keep in water while the other pours us both glasses of champagne. Seth's favorite, Dom.

Why am I not surprised?

"So, tell me everything." His demands are not forced, but I can always tell they are demands.

They send shivers down my spine. "Well, she was able to get me an audience with Cora Sherwood who is the current CEO of the Sherwood umbrella of brands. She was very interested in my pieces and by the end of the meeting, I'd signed a contract to be represented under the umbrella. Which means everything is about to change with my business. I'm going to have employees and a studio and marketing and–"

"That's fantastic, Bridget."

"It's…" I let out a long sigh. "Yes, it's fantastic."

"You deserve it."

I flush. "Well…"

"Don't discount it. You've worked hard for it. I know you've worked very hard to get to where you are. And without a degree at that."

I scoff. "Well, no one needs a degree to sew."

"Is that what you call what you're doing? Sewing?"

"No. It's more than that."

"So…" He holds out his hands.

I resist rolling my eyes.

"Say it. Say you're amazing."

Excitement flares in my chest. Who knew domination could come with a lesson in self-compassion? "I'm amazing."

Seth lifts his glass of champagne. "You're damned right you are."

I lift my glass too.

"To you," he says.

Our eyes lock. "May I add something?"

He nods once. "I'll permit it."

I giggle, but once my giggle fades, I lift my chin and breathe in deep. "To us."

Seth grins, then clinks his glass against mine.

Conversation over our luxurious dinner is…well, it's like a first date. There are pauses and blushes and questions we've never asked one another.

Doors have been unlocked the past couple of months, doors neither of us dared peer through.

Seth talks about his childhood, even refers to his dad a few times without getting choked up.

I tell him about life with my dad growing up. All the adventures we had, how hard he worked to make up for my mom's absence.

We talk about lots of things…but not a lot about us. And for some reason, that feels right. All Seth and I have discussed before is us. Our dynamic, our feelings, our wants, our needs.

The seal on our vacuum has been broken. Our friends know we're here tonight. So do our parents. A relationship can't just exist on what's between two people. It has to include the world beyond it as well. That means memories and feelings and plans, hopes, dreams…

By dessert, I am more head over heels in love with him if that is even possible.

To talk…just talk, feels like such a gift.

When after dinner espresso is delivered to our table, Seth makes sure to put several cubes of sugar in mine. It's the little things that make me swoon.

"I'd like the night to continue." He appraises me through the steam of his coffee. "Would you?"

I cock my head to the side. "If you would like the night to continue, I would like the night to continue."

Seth hesitates, then puts his cup down without taking a sip. He slides his hand across the table for me to take.

Though I'm confused, I do so.

"Bridget, listen to me carefully," he says in a low voice he's always saved for the Underground or the bedroom.

Out here, it seems serious. Captures my attention. My unease.

His hand tightens around mine. "We need to talk about what happened at the club."

Time slows. I try to smile. "You were there. You know what happened."

He shakes his head in a curt way. "That's not what I mean."

I swallow. "Th-then what?"

Seth engulfs my one hand with his two.

Blue eyes laser into mine so hard I have to look away. It's too intense.

My heart is starting to race.

"Have you discussed it in therapy?"

"Yes." I've had a standing therapy session every week since I returned to New York when I was twenty years old. I've doubled those sessions since the incident at the club.

"You are my sub," he says with gentleness. "I collared you. You have given me your trust. Your control."

I remain silent, trying to keep my breath steady.

"The last thing I want is to hurt you. You know that, right?"

"Yes, Seth. I know that."

He is quiet for a moment. "I need you to tell me what you need to make you feel safe moving forward. Do you want to pull back? Keep things more…vanilla?"

"Is that what you want?"

"That wasn't the question."

"But your desire matters as much as mine." A sub can go too far, but so can a Dom. We have committed to each other. There is an expectation. And a fear of letting each other down. The less we speak to it, the more the fear will grow. The more possibility there is for hurt.

Seth takes our clasped hands to his forehead. "More than anything in the world, Bridget, I want what will make you happy. It is…" He swallows. Thick and difficult. "It is my greatest desire."

I've spoken with my therapist about Seth. Now. I had been hiding it from everyone, including her. Let's just say she is earning her hefty fee since what happened in the club.

And though fear lives in the corners of my body, though the darkness of night hits different than it used to, though I have withdrawn from the crowded beat of New York to recover, there is one thing that hasn't changed.

"You are my Dom," I say. "And I know with every fiber of my being my body is safe in your hands."

Seth raises his gaze.

Are you sure? his eyes seem to ask.

"You are my safe place."

He kisses the back of my hand. "Promise me you will always tell me if that changes. I never want to be anything but your safe space."

"I promise."

"In the moment. Right when it happens. If you can."

"Always, Seth."

Seth's concerned expression gives way to a smile. "Then I would like to take you to the Underground tonight."

I bow my head.

The collar digs into my neck.

I never take it off and become less and less aware of it every day. It is a part of me.

"Yes, Sir."

I have realizedthat my desire for a Dom, my desire for Seth, is hand in hand with my desire to restage what happened to me with Zack in college. Though I had dreams of submission before then, that incident has always driven me to seek out the safety of a Dom who wants to control me from a place of love. Who will listen to me when I say the safe word.

I could never have known I would be resetting that clock when I went to the club that night that Zack found me. That the desire for restaging would become so potent again.

I want control. I want choice.

I still have that by choosing to give into Seth.

When we enter the Underground, we enter together. Any lingering stares we ignore.

For the first time, I'm not afraid word will get back to my dad. I already have what I want, and there's no taking that away from me.

We enter our usual room and the second the door shuts, I start the process of removing my clothes.

I reach around to grab the zipper on my dress, but Seth stops me, placing my hand back at my side.

His arms slide around me, his lips graze the lobe of my ear. "Let me," he says, hoarseness already enveloping his voice.

I allow him, though it feels strange after all the encounters we've had down here that he is the one removing my clothes. Still, I love the feeling of him unzipping my dress, unclasping my bra, rolling my underwear down my legs until all my clothes are a pile at my feet.

"Sit." He directs me to the settee.

I sit down at his direction.

Seth follows me, takes one of my ankles into his hand and slides the shoe off…then the other.

I try not to stare, but I am rapt by the way he is rapt by me.

When my feet are flat on the floor again, I make a move to put up my hair.

"Please." He opens his palm for the hair tie.

I place the small black loop into his palm.

Seth circles the couch and begins to collect my hair in his hands. The tips of his fingers massage my scalp.

I hold back a moan.

Feels so good the way he touches me. I've missed it.

"Since you now wear your collar permanently…I will put up your hair for you as our opening ritual. Does that satisfy you?"

"Yes, Sir."

It is a miracle Seth doesn't cause my scalp to yelp in pain, like he's practiced doing this so many times. Once my hair is tied back, Seth slides his arms under me and lifts me up, bridal style.

I yelp.

"I've got you," he says in a soft voice.

Seth places me on the bed. "Sit. I want to show you something."

I cross my legs and watch him.

We have been here a thousand times before. Me naked. Him fully clothed.

Seth stands beside the bed, slides off his jacket. Undoes his belt. I expect he's about to release his erection and take me.

It will be the first time we will have just vanilla sex, but I can understand the desire. The inability to resist. To wait until after the scene.

The belt comes off. So does the tie.

And then, he begins to work the buttons of his dress shirt until that comes off too.

A few moments flat, and he's left in an undershirt and briefs.

A view I have not yet known of him.

And then he grabs the hem of his T-shirt.

I suck in a breath, my body tensing.

His body tenses too, and he freezes, only a small patch of skin exposed. "I…uh…" He shakes his head, erases whatever he might have thought about saying. "I'll just do it."

Seth pulls his shirt up over his head and reveals the expanse of his chest.

I've only ever felt it, hard under his shirt.

What I notice first isn't the toned muscles or the dark hair peppering his sternum and pecs.

It's the jagged, purple scar that spans from the left side of his navel, all the way to his ribs. The skin is snarled and angry, looks like it might hurt.

"Is that from…" I speak without thinking, an accident.

But Seth seems nonplussed, his eyelids lowering. "The accident. I didn't notice until I got to shore, I'd been gouged by something. Not sure what it was or how I didn't bleed out completely." Seth touches the wound. He shuts his eyes tight. "I guess he was right to tell me to go on, but it still doesn't feel that way."

"Sir?"

His eyes shoot open, body jolting. "Yes."

"May I touch, please?"

Seth's brow threads together for a moment. His expression is…skeptical. But eventually, he gives a single nod. "Yes. You may."

I lean forward and, as his hand moves away from the scar to make room for mine, I allow my fingertips to slide along his skin.

So, this is why he's always wearing a t-shirt. Even at the beach. Why I've never seen him naked.

"It's ugly," he says, more disgruntled than sad.

I shake my head and kiss the top of the scar. Keep moving down the line. His skin is warm, and his smell is something I have gotten so used to and yet still manages to drive me crazy.

I trail kisses down the scar, traces of whatever lipstick remain on my mouth transferring onto his skin.

Something between a groan and a whimper emerges from the back of his throat.

I want more of those sounds.

I nuzzle the scar before running my thumb against the ridge. A piece of him. A perfect piece of him.

"Be a good girl, Bridget," Seth huffs.

Already on my mind.

I slide off the bed, onto my knees, and move my mouth to the trail of hair that begins under his belly button, continuing the trail of kisses until my lips meet the waistband of his underwear. "May I–"

"Yes," he grunts before I can finish the question.

I pull the waistband of his underwear down until his cock springs free, before it can arc completely out, my mouth is on it.

I've done this a handful of times. But never had the complete experience.

This time, I'm determined to give my Sir all he deserves with my mouth.

I engulf him just below the ridge of the head of his cock.

My tongue swipes at the bead of precum that has already formed.

Seth grabs my hands and places them against his hips. "Touch me."

I moan as I sink him further into my mouth, curling my fingers around his hips.

He presses on my hands hard.

His hand wraps around my ponytail. He tugs, only enough to cause a twinge in my scalp, to remind me that he is in control. I am here to serve him.

And I am more than happy to.

His hand remains on my hair as I explore him, lap him up, tighten my mouth and relax it.

He hardens more and more until he is hard as stone.

I push him as deep as he will go, hollowing out the back of my throat so there is room for all of him.

My body jerks with a gag, but I press on, taking as much as I can.

A "fffff" sound" emerges from between Seth's lips and teeth, extends for a while before he growls, "Fuck."

His belly heaves with breaths. "I'm going to fuck your mouth, pet."

I nod.

Seth's hips start to move toward my mouth each time my lips slide down his shaft.

"Touch yourself," he grunts.

I press one hand against his scar to steady myself as I reach down to my pussy.

My fingers coast through my slickness with more ease than I expect.

My clit is inflamed, angry I've left it unattended to.

"Let me know how you feel."

I moan with him in my mouth.

Vibrations thrum through me and into Seth.

He bucks hard, his cock going deeper.

I balk, but don't stop. I neither want to, nor could I, considering how tight his hand has grown on the back of my head. He's using it for leverage as he fucks my mouth.

As his speed increases, so does mine. My sensitive bundle of nerves is already an inch away from release, so I keep teasing the space around it.

I cannot come until he tells me to.

"Look at me," he says, hard, from the back of his throat, like it is life or death.

I pull my eyes up to his.

Even from this strange angle, Seth is sexy. The hardness of his body, the intensity of his gaze, his piercing blue eyes.

I swallow the head of his cock a bit more, eyes pricking with tears.

His mouth is drawn in a tight line. Controlling himself.

I sometimes wonder how fast he would come if he wasn't in charge like this.

It would be a compliment if it were fast.

His tense, almost angry expression breaks, his eyebrows twitching upward, his jaw loosening. "Bridget…"

I blink and a tear rolls down my cheek.

Seth places his other hand against my cheek, can feel the way his cock presses into the side of my mouth. "I love you."

I moan without thinking.

How is that such a turn on?

"I love you so much," he says once more before his eyes twitch closed and his jaw falls open further.

A shallow gasp bursts from the back of his throat, and his cock twitches once in my mouth.

I grab his thigh, continue sliding my mouth up and down his cock and riding my hand simultaneously.

His fingers tighten on the back of my head. He drags my lips almost to the base of him.

He's shaking as he holds me in place. His hips jolt.

And then I feel the burst of heat in the back of my mouth, saltiness slicking the back of my tongue.

"Come with me, Bridget," he growls, nails digging into my scalp.

It only takes a few swipes of my fingers over my clit to send me spiraling too.

I groan around him, my eyes rolling up to meet his again.

His cock tightens a few more times in my mouth, releasing every last drop.

I swallow all of it, relishing the way he becomes a part of me.

Seth slides out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed.

I am a mere rag doll, trying to recover from the way he used me.

He spreads my limbs out long on the bed.

I can't help but admire his naked form as he works. I hope he never hides it from me again. At least not in the name of anything but pleasure.

Once I am laid out to his liking, Seth stops. Takes in my body. Every inch. A delicate smile appears on his lips.

He lays himself on top of me and nuzzles his face into my neck. His hands cradle me at my lower back.

I could lay here forever. I will if that's what he wants.

"When I say I love you, you can always say it back without permission."

My lips pinch into a smile.

I would have said it back if I didn't have your cock in my mouth…

"In fact, you can say it first as much as you like too. I'd…like that."

I spread my hands down his shoulders and biceps.

His body loosens with my strokes.

"I love you, Sir," I say, then brush my lips across the crown of his head. "I love you, Seth."

Seth moans into my neck, the sound almost like a combination of relief, pleasure, and contentment.

He kisses the front of my throat, above my collar. "Mine."

Kisses again. Lets his teeth brush my skin as he sucks.

He stays until I'm sure he's made a mark. Then he moves his mouth below the collar. "Mine."

Another kiss, another scrape of teeth.

After the third one at the center of my collarbone, it's clear that Seth is going to continue this pattern until he has marked every part of my body with his teeth.

And I will relish every single mark. Every single time he claims me with the word "mine."

Because it's the truth.

Forever and ever, I am his.