Naia and the Professor Part 11

"What did he say?" Liam asked.

"When he was talking about me posing for him, he said something about asking your permission, like you would make that decision for me."

He remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"I like what we're doing, how we're playing, but I don't think I can do that level of control, not outside of s.e.x. It's not who I am and as much as you want me to really see your world, you need to know I can't go that far. I don't want that. Not now and maybe not ever."

When he didn't speak right away, her heart sank. Had she lost him? Was what he wanted so different from what she could give?

"I'm not looking for a slave, Naia. I never was. I expect submission in the bedroom and whenever we agree to play for whatever length of time we agree on. Together. That may all change over time, we may go longer, we may not, but right now, I'm good with how things are. I'm comfortable with your reactions; I think we fit."

"I love you." The words were out before she could stop them, shocking her.

His eyes remained fixed on hers. For a moment, she thought she might have made a mistake, gone too far. Was he just talking s.e.x or was it more for him too? Her throat grew tight and tears threatened.

"Naia," he began, turning her wrist over, tracing a pattern in her palm. "That took a great deal of courage."

"But," she cut him off and dropped her eyes to her lap.

He took her chin into his hands and turned her face up. "Let me finish," he said, reaching down, closing his mouth over hers for a brief kiss. "Have you doubted for one moment how I feel about you?"

"You've never said, not really."

He made a face. "You are either incredibly un.o.bservant or exceptionally insecure." He exhaled. "I love you, Naia White. I have for a very long time. I don't know how that fact isn't absolutely obvious to you."

She felt giddy, lightheaded. "You do?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled her into his arms. "Yes. I love you. Is that clear enough?"

"Yes," her smile was huge but her eyes were still filled with tears-the good kind.

"Or maybe I just have to keep showing you," he teased, lifting her hair off her shoulder and kissing her neck. He began by trailing kisses down her arm and to her breast. He was gentle at first, but when he moved to take the very tip of her nipple into his mouth, she closed her eyes and arched her back, wanting more.

He moved to the other breast. "Please..."

"Please what?" he said, drawing her nipple out with his teeth.

She only moaned.

His mouth left a hot trail as he traveled down her belly, pushing the sheet aside. "Spread your legs wide, I'm hungry," he ordered.

"Yes, Professor," she said, opening her legs farther. She closed her eyes when he sucked her c.l.i.t into his hot mouth. "Oh, yes..."

He tasted and teased with his tongue until she was hugging him to her, but he wouldn't let her come. Instead, he rose to his knees and flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips high into the air. She looked back and watched as he spread her open, taking in the sight of her. He then brought his face down, kissing her b.u.t.tocks, tickling the cleft between until, holding her lifted, his tongue flicked over the bud of her a.n.u.s.

"Professor!" She tensed.

His answer was to hold both b.u.t.tocks tightly, spread them further and lick again before straightening, his eyes dark with desire. "You may be an independent woman, but you belong to me, Naia White. Every inch of you. I'll have you any way I please any time I please, you understand?"

She nodded.

He reached for a condom in the nightstand drawer and pulled it over his c.o.c.k, then tickled her p.u.s.s.y with its head.

"Yes, I'm yours. I'm yours."

He thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt in one swift move. He held her like that, filled up with him, spread open, and, keeping his eyes locked on hers, he f.u.c.ked her.

All she could do was moan, "Oh ... I love you, I love you..." Her p.u.s.s.y contracted around his c.o.c.k, causing them to climax together, both coming hard and fast before collapsing onto the bed in each other's arms.

After showering, they walked to a nearby restaurant for lunch. Liam liked seeing Naia like this, happy and relaxed, wearing no makeup and her hair loose over her shoulders.

But he still had one more thing to address with her.

"You go back to the east coast on Tuesday?" he asked after they'd ordered.

"Yes, for three months. They've chosen my replacement so I have to get him going, introduce him to the clients, and make sure he's ready before I can take my new position. He can't start for another month or it would go faster.

"Three months more after ten years," Liam said. "It shouldn't feel like a long time but it sure as h.e.l.l does." He sipped his drink. "You're sure about everything?"

"Both eyes wide open," she said. "I want to be with you."

"My brother was right about one thing, Naia. I am a very possessive man. If we do this, you come to Denver as my wife, nothing less. You already know I'm not an easy man and I will demand a great deal from you, but..."

She grinned and couldn't help but giggle just a little. It was a nervous laugh though. "Professor Templar, are you asking me to marry you in your own strange, dominant sort of way?"

He seemed at a loss for a moment, but quickly recovered himself, his face relaxing into a smile. "Yes, I suppose I am," he took her hands in his. "I've waited a long time for this and I've never been one to do things half-a.s.sed. I meant what I said earlier-you're mine. In every way. In fact, I don't think I could let you go if you wanted me to. So, Ms. White, will you marry me?"

Tears slid down Naia's cheeks as she took his face into her hands. "Yes, Professor Templar. I will marry you, big, dark, and scary side included! Yes, yes yes!"

He kissed her. "You should know I want kids," he whispered, his tongue flicking over her earlobe. "Lots of them."

"Me too," she said. "I'm so happy." It came out choked as more tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You have a strange way of showing it," he teased.

Epilogue.

Naia situated herself on her knees in the living room. She'd gotten home later than she'd planned and hoped everything was as it should be. It was Thursday night, maintenance night. Their weekly ritual. However, between Liam's work and some unexpected travel on her part, they'd missed the last three Thursdays and hadn't been able to make it up. Tonight would take care of that though, Liam had promised that much. And she was looking forward to it more than she thought she should be.

It has been eight months since her move to Denver and the wedding was scheduled for the end of the year. Naia found herself settling easily into her new life with Liam; she felt at home. Work was going well, she liked her colleagues and the job itself challenged her. And, most importantly, things were moving easily along, very easily, between herself and Liam. Everything just felt good. They'd been playing for longer and longer periods and Naia found a certain peace in surrendering to him. Her submission had ventured out of the bedroom, but it had been so gradual and natural a transition she'd barely noticed. Liam was always respectful and loving and it just felt right.

In fact, she'd been the one to take Liam by surprise when she'd requested a weekly maintenance night. Both of them were busy and she not only wanted but needed the scheduled evenings that usually began with a full physical inspection, continued with a spanking-unless a more severe punishment was deemed necessary-and ended with incredible s.e.x. Although she didn't care for the nights she was not allowed to o.r.g.a.s.m; that was still difficult for her.

The headlights of Liam's SUV shone through the window as he turned onto the driveway. The car door opened to the accompaniment of dinging and a snippet of music. Naia's heart raced in antic.i.p.ation and she mentally ticked off all the things she'd done to prepare for the evening as well as all the things she hadn't.

She heard the front door open and close, his keys being placed on the table. Her heart picked up speed when footsteps sounded his approach.

"Naia," he said, setting his case on the couch and walking straight to her.

She met his eyes briefly.

"It's always so good to see you after a long day." He reached down to take her hands and lift her to her feet while kissing her softly on the cheek.

She dared another glance into his eyes. He was already aroused and she liked the idea that he, like she, had likely been antic.i.p.ating this all day.

"Hi," she said. It was all she could get out before his kiss covered her mouth.

Liam stepped back and held her at arm's length, looking her up and down. All she wore were white lace panties and black patent leather pumps with straps around the ankles. It was her maintenance night outfit, chosen by him.

He stepped back and took off his jacket and tie, then unb.u.t.toned a few b.u.t.tons of his shirt before rolling both sleeves up.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at you," he said.

She smiled. "Would you like a drink, Professor?"

"That would be lovely," he said, settling on the couch.

Without a word, she walked slowly to the bar, aware of his eyes on her as she did. She dropped two ice cubes into the gla.s.s and poured the whiskey before turning back to him. This was their ritual. She'd make his drink and stand before him while he drank it and conducted his inspection of her body. Tonight was no different.

He took the drink from her outstretched hand and thanked her. She stood so she was just inches from him and a.s.sumed his preferred position-legs spread to shoulder width, back straight, hands clasped behind her head. That part had taken some getting used to, but it felt good now. It never failed to arouse her, in fact, and he no longer needed to ask her to do it.

Ice clanked around in the gla.s.s, but she kept her gaze on the opposite wall.

"Take your panties down," he said.

Without question or a moment of hesitation, she pulled them to the tops of her thighs. She was fully aware that, depending on how closely he checked, she might receive a punishment tonight. She was banking on the fact he normally didn't miss the little details.

"I love..." he began, brushing a finger between her thighs.

She swallowed.

"That you're always ready for me," he continued. Her face burned red, a reaction she seemed not to be able to rid herself of. He reached out a finger and tested the skin. "Tsk, tsk," he said.

He'd noticed. Of course he would.

He leaned back in his seat and waited.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Eyes on me," he said.

She met his gaze. "I was too late to make my appointment. It won't happen again," she said. Liam preferred her waxed every few weeks rather than shaved. He claimed her skin felt softer and although it hurt, she'd kept it up. This time, she'd not made her appointment soon enough before the studio filled up. "I have an appointment on Sat.u.r.day, Sir," she said, not wholly sorry. She'd be punished, she knew it. But the truth was, she wasn't entirely dreading punishment. She also had ideas for the evening, although she still wasn't sure if she'd have the guts to go through with them.

He finished his drink and set it down.

"We won't miss maintenance nights going forward," he said. "I accept my share of the responsibility and I promise I'll be keeping a closer eye on things. Now, between this and the three weeks we've missed, I'm going to give you a punishment tonight. Make up for time lost. Do you agree?"

"If you think that's best, Sir," she answered, although she wanted to scream Yes.

"Do you believe you deserve to be punished, Naia?" he probed as he always did on these nights. "Eyes on me," he repeated the command.

It was easier to look away.

"Yes, Sir," she said, although she trembled a little. As much as she wanted it, pain was pain.

He seemed pleased. Finishing his drink, he set the gla.s.s aside and reached a hand out to her. "Over my lap, let's get you warmed up," he said.

She draped herself over his thighs, her hands on the floor to balance herself, her b.u.t.tocks lifted.

He took her panties further down her thighs but didn't take them off completely. She liked the feeling; it was as though she were even more exposed than had she been totally naked.

"I think," he began, caressing her b.u.t.tocks. He hadn't spanked her in three weeks and she missed it. "You're ready to take some strokes of the cane," he said before the first spank landed on one cheek.

She held her position but couldn't help clenching her b.u.t.tocks before relaxing again.

The second one landed, but she remained still. It didn't hurt so much as leave a quick sting, but she knew it was just the beginning.

"What do you think? Are you ready for the cane?" he asked.

Yes, she was ready for the cane. She wanted it.

He continued to spank her, alternating between cheeks before moving to her upper thighs. That always hurt the most.

"Naia?" he asked rubbing her b.u.t.tocks while he waited for her answer.

"Yes," she began, realizing she hadn't responded. She'd been thinking about a caning for weeks now, wondering how it would feel, wanting to know the sensation, wanting the pain. She'd come to find a rhythm in the hurt and Liam always managed to take her right to the edge but kept her from tipping over. "Yes, Sir. I'm ready for the cane."

Through the material of his pants, his thick c.o.c.k pressed against her belly and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s bounced with the strokes while he, without a word, resumed her spanking. She'd had much harder ones before and understood this was only preparation for what was to come. Although the antic.i.p.ation wouldn't allow her to get into the head s.p.a.ce most spankings could get her to. Memories of the first caning she'd witnessed months ago still played vividly in her mind. She'd seen more at the club in the last months and it had become one of her favorite scenes to watch. She might even say it was fast becoming an obsession.

Although a few tears had slipped from her eyes, she didn't fully cry during the spanking and before she knew it, he stood her up and stripped her panties off altogether. She'd learned not to reach back to cover her bottom but to allow herself to feel the residual burn after any punishment and tonight was no different.

"Let's go upstairs," he said.

She walked ahead of him up the stairs and to their bedroom. Once they reached it, she stood at the foot of the bed and resumed the position she'd held earlier with her hands at the back of her head, waiting for his next instruction. He retrieved the cane, one very similar to the one used that first night at the club. She'd never felt its sting; he'd never pushed her to it, knowing it was one of her limits. Here she was tonight though, both wanting and dreading the fact that she'd soon become all too familiar with the object.

"How many strokes do you think you deserve, Naia?" he asked, holding the cane casually in his hand while he came to stand inches from her. She could already see the bulge in his pants and the dilating of his pupils.

"Um, one Sir?" she asked, knowing full well it would be more than that but also knowing him well enough to start low.