Late Blooming Lily Read online

  "Shh," he said softly. "You'll get it, baby. You'll get it all. You're so tight, sweetheart, but I'm going to fuck you until you fit just me, forever. My little girl." He pushed his fingers in deep, twisting them, making her cry out.

  "Yours," she moaned, when she could find words again. "Rob, please…."

  "Good girls don't come without permission. Understand, baby? You disobey and you'll find yourself getting a cold shower and a trip to the woodshed." He withdrew his fingers then, giving her sex a hard slap, the sound obscenely wet and loud in the quiet room.

  It took a moment for her to answer with more than moans, but then Lily nodded, lifting her arms up above her head, letting him see her surrender. "Understand." She watched as he put on the condom, grateful to him for keeping her safe, for protecting her in every way.

  "Sweet girl," he praised her, then moved atop her, pinning her under the weight of his strong body as her legs spread further, welcoming him between them. His prick teased over her wetness for a moment, sliding over the hot flesh before, at last, he sank inside her in one long, slow thrust. Even gentle as he was in that first push, Lily could feel a sharp stretch because it had been a long time since she'd been with anyone, and all the air exited her lungs in a long, moaning gasp.

  "Good girl," he whispered. "Take it so well. Need it, don't you, sweetheart?" He began to move in strong, measured thrusts, watching each shadow of delight or discomfort on her face as he gauged her reactions.

  "Need it," she echoed in a high, whining voice. Her hands came up to grip his strong shoulders, her delicious weakness bracing itself against his strength. "God, Rob, so good!"

  He leaned down and kissed her roughly, claiming her soft lips again and swallowing all her beautiful noises. He wasn't being particularly gentle now, and Lily didn't want him to be—she wanted him to fuck her raw as he had promised, use her tender body to his pleasure, command her, tease and torment her.... Lily's hips were rising up to meet each hard thrust, welcoming the sweet ache his cock both created and soothed within her. Her head tossed on the pillow, her eyes closed as she slid further and faster into the pleasure he gave her. "Rob, please!"

  "Wait for it, baby," he grunted. "All you've got to do is obey, just be a good girl."

  "Ammm..." she nearly wailed, the pleasure coming very close to overstimulation now as she fought back the desire to let go, to disappear into that sweet abyss that he drove her further and further towards with every thrust. Rob pinched one of her nipples hard, and it felt like a burst of electricity going straight to her wet, hot core.

  "Are you?" he growled. "Are you my good girl?"

  "Yours, yes, yours, please, please," Lily begged, her whole body in constant motion as the energy swirled and built within her, aching for release. His voice only made it harder to hold on—he sounded so commanding, so gorgeous, so fucking sexy. Her breathing came in high, loud pants, and if he didn't give permission soon, no fear of punishment would be able to keep her from disobeying.

  He slowed his thrusts, just a little. "Open your eyes, baby. Look in my eyes and say it."

  Lily's eyes fluttered open, showing him the depth of her need and desire. "Yours," she whispered, staring up at the dark, passionately possessive face over her, locking gazes with him. "Your good little girl, Rob."

  He smiled, then nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Okay, sweetheart. You can come now." He returned to the punishingly hard, fast thrusts he'd been given her, now not holding back at all. Each stroke filled and overfilled her, and it was only a few seconds from when he gave his permission that Lily let out a high, keening sound, bucking so hard that he shifted his hands to her hips to hold her in place for his prick. Her body arched, and then curled around the sweet pleasure center that sent seismic tremors through her whole being. She had never come so hard or so long before as each thrust sent aftershocks through her, making her ripple over and over again.

  Rob was beyond speech by now, sweating and groaning, very close to his own climax as he pounded her tender little quim hard and fast, eyes closed and hands gripping her shoulder and hip hard enough to bruise. Lily, sprawled breathlessly against the pillows, was beginning to feel the roughness as discomfort, but she didn't care. She was his—she had said it, and her sore, exhausted body knew it for truth. She was his to punish, pleasure, fuck as he saw fit. Though her own desire was slaked, within her submission to his desire, she found one deeper still, one expressed through obedience, suffering even.

  At last, he slammed himself fully inside her and came, groaning and growling as his own pleasure consumed him. He lay atop her, within her, for a long, shuddering moment, then lifted his head and drew in a deep breath. He kissed her lips briefly, softly, and rolled to the side, sprawling on his back and disposing of the condom. "Jesus, Lily," he gasped, pulling her to him so that she was curled comfortably on his shoulder. "You make me feel like a teenager. I haven't come that hard in... ever," he concluded at last.

  "I'm glad you fuck better than a teenager," she giggled, kissing his jaw. "But I know. So good. I was so scared I wouldn't be able to last... would you really have done that to me? Punished me again?"

  "I would," he said, "because you have to know I stick to my word, baby. But I sure am glad you held out. I can't say which of us would've hated it worse." He stroked her hair with clumsy affection. "Such a sweet little girl."

  Lily made a little, grateful sound, snuggling in as close as she could. It wasn't just the pleasure he'd given her, in fulfilling all her desires. It was more. There might have been a hurricane shaking the house, but in his arms, there was a pure peace that she'd never known before, as she surrendered all her fretful worry to his strength.

  She was safe. "Stay?" she whispered.

  "Right here, sweetheart," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout a thing."

  Chapter Four

  Lily was normally a light sleeper, and often saw the dawn from the wrong side when her restless body forced her from bed. But that night, she slept deeply and completely, as peaceful as a child. She didn't wake until past dawn when she felt a warm hand stroke the line of her throat. "Time to get up, baby girl," Rob said.

  Lily made a little noise in the back of her throat, then smiled, even before she opened her eyes. "Hi," she whispered, blinking up at Rob. His hair was damp, and he wore only his jeans. She moved towards him without any particular intention, burrowing into his bare chest and snuffling a little. He smelled like her lemon verbena soap, but still like himself too, like something masculine and tantalizing.

  His arms wrapped around her tightly and he kissed the top of her head. "Morning, sweetheart. Come on, sun's up and the coffee is on. I have to get back to the spread soon, and we need to talk."

  "Not a bad talk?" Lily pleaded, her sleepy mind frightened by the rather ominous words.

  "Nope, nothing bad." He swung her easily out of bed and onto her feet. Then he put her from him just a little. "Let me see your little rear, baby."

  Lily turned away, letting him examine his handiwork. Looking over her shoulder, she could see herself in the reflection from the cheval mirror in the corner. Her bottom was still red and bruised, though most of the bruises were light, with only a few darker ones where Rob had really driven into her tender flesh. She reached down with a curious hand, and the surface felt uneven, with little, tender ridges where the edge of the brush had left welts.

  Rob nodded when he was satisfied with his inspection, and drew her back in for a brief hug. "Better be a good girl today. My little sweetheart has delicate skin—you bruise really easy."

  A little more awake now, Lily felt uncomfortable and didn't respond quite as easily and naturally as she might have the night before. "I will," she said, unsure of herself, of taking the fantasy of dark hours into daylight. What would it mean, what they had decided? She had called herself his—what madness was that, to give herself to a man she'd known for only two days? But she covered her confusion in finding her favorite chinoiserie silk dressing gown and tying it around he
r.

  Downstairs, she poured coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table, hiding a wince as her poor sore butt hit the hard chair. God, she'd be feeling that all day—and the thought made her shiver a little. She stirred a little sugar into her cup, waiting for him to speak. That, at least, had not faded with dawn light, the ease with which she let him take the lead.

  But Rob surprised her, reaching out to lift her chin so he could look at her face. "What are you thinking, Lily?" he asked softly.

  She looked into his face, the honest kindness and affection there, and it made her brave enough to say. "I don't know. I really don't. Everything last night... it was so fast. So perfect. Just like a dream. I guess I just don't know what dreams look like in the daytime."

  He nodded. "I know. But a lot of your dream—your story—those were daylight things. Rules and chore lists and the like. And if this is what you really want, then... it's not a thing you can have in parts. You said you didn't want a game, Lily. You said you wanted it to be real. And that means you have to trust me whether the sun is up, or down, or eclipsed, or anything else. Real doesn't go away when we're not crazy with need for each other."

  "I do trust you," she said, honestly. "I just... I'm not sure I trust myself, Rob. What if this thing I've built up as so beautiful in my head is just horrible and weird? What if I mess up and you hurt me and then it's all gone?"

  "I will never hurt you, Lily," he answered. "Discipline you, yes. Punish you, yes. But nothing that happens between us is going to need a trip to the doctor or leave a lasting mark. If it does, it will be me who's messed up, not you. I can't pretend this isn't new to me, too. I've spanked a girl or two, but I never found one like you—one who wanted all of it, all of this. Who would trust me to hold her in my hand like a perfect, precious flower." He stroked her cheek. "To me, that's worth trying for. You're an educated, sophisticated woman, Lily, and I went to agricultural college, and I can't pretend some part of me isn't as perplexed about this as the worry I see in your face. But we're not young folks anymore, honey, and if this can be... if you can give yourself to me and let me hold you fast and protect and love you, then I'm willing to try. Are you?" His gaze was strong and challenging.

  "It's just—so many things! I only meant to be here a couple of months, Rob, just to clear the place out and get it ready to sell. What happens when I've done that? We're not young folks, like you said—you've got your ranch, and I own an apartment in Seattle. I have friends, and I have a business to run. How does that work?" It wasn't a rejection but an honest question. She continued, her voice quavering a little. "You said... love. Love me."

  "I did," Rob said tenderly. "And if I knew a better word for all the things you make me feel, I'd use it, because love is an easy word and a hard thing. But I want to hold you in my arms for a million years and keep you safe, baby, and if that's not love, then I might as well give up on it altogether because that's all I want." His voice shifted to sternness. "You didn't answer my question, Lily. Are you willing to try? To obey me, to trust me to want what's best for you, even when you don't like it? To give yourself to me completely? No half-measures, Lily. I ain't saying rules won't change over time as I learn you better, but you have to keep to my word, or this doesn't mean a damn thing."

  There was a long silence as Lily struggled with all the things inside her that were screaming at her to run, to protect herself, to go back to Seattle and not leave herself so vulnerable and foolish, a middle-aged woman taking on the role of an obedient little girl.

  But his words were stronger than those screaming voices. Keep her safe. Keep her safe forever.

  "Yes, Rob. I'll try. Please."

  He let out a long breath then, like he'd been holding it, and he smiled. "My special girl. Ready for rules? I'm going to keep my sweet little girl real strictly, just like she needs."

  Lily shivered slightly. "I'm ready."

  Rob shifted in his seat, and then drew a battered little notebook out of his back pocket. Flipping past veterinary appointments and notes for feed orders, he found a fresh sheet and tore it out. "The first rule, most important, I ain't going to write down because it's got to be written in your heart. You obey me. Always. No matter if you think it's stupid or wrong. We can talk about things, Lily, but you'll do as you are told, or I'll make the spanking you got last night seem like a couple of love slaps."

  "I understand. I'll obey. I promise."

  "Good girl. Now. You don't leave this place unless you tell me where you're going. It's lonely out here, and the roads can be bad. I need to know where you are, always." He scribbled down the words with a stubby little pencil. "Agreed?"

  "Agreed." It was a sensible rule.

  "Next. You will always tell me the truth. No lies between us, baby."

  "No lies," she agreed. It was another sensible rule, and wouldn't be too hard, she hoped. She wasn't in the habit of dishonesty.

  He paused for a moment, eying her up and down. "How many meals a day do you eat?"

  Lily bit her lip. "Do cheese sandwiches count as meals?"

  "I think you know they don't, sweetheart. You'll make three proper, balanced meals a day, whether I'm here with you or not. Understood?"

  "Yes, Rob." It wasn't as intuitive to her as the others—Lily had survived many years on her rather bland and limited diet after all—but it was a good one.

  "Good girl. Any special health issues I need to know about?"

  Lily had begun to shake her head when she realized it wasn't quite the truth. "I get headaches," she offered. "Nothing really bad, and the neurologist says I'm fine. Just, I tend to get wrapped up in my work, and I don't even notice I'm hurting until I'm done."

  Rob frowned. "I see. You think it's okay to be careless with your health, young lady?"

  "No," she answered in a meek little voice. "I don't mean to be."

  "That's exactly what careless is," he returned sternly. "From now on you'll mean to be careful. How long can you work without a headache?"

  "I...I usually get one after about three hours with no break, or if I go all day, ten hours or so. But, Rob, it's my work. I have clients, and I can't disappoint them. I've worked so hard to build my business. I can't let it fail because I'm too weak."

  "You'll be a hell of a lot weaker if you ruin your health over it," he retorted. He sat thinking for a moment, tapping the pencil against his lips. "You don't have anyone to help you with the paperwork and such?"

  She shook her head. "I tried using a virtual assistant for a little while, but it was more trouble to get her to understand how to do things than to just do them myself."

  "Well, baby, you got two choices. You can hire someone to help you, or you can take on fewer clients. But you won't be working at your desk more than six hours a day, and you'll take a break every hour. At least ten minutes." He looked at her pointedly. "Understood?"

  There was a long, mutinous silence. She didn't mind giving herself to him—that was easy for someone who placed so little value on her own person. But to let him take away decisions about her business, her work? And yet... he was right. The headaches, when she didn't manage them well, could easily cost her a full day's productivity or more, and at her age, she needed to guard her health carefully. "Yes, Rob," she said finally.

  "Good girl," he said quietly, reaching out to squeeze her hand, showing he knew what that had cost her. "I reckon your sore butt will make that rule easy enough to follow today. I want you to sit on a hard chair while you work so you'll remember exactly why you need to obey."

  She blushed at that, knowing she would feel his marks on her, his discipline, all day. "Yes, Rob."

  They ran through a few more rules, but they were nothing too hard—no more impractical shoes, no arguing with him in public, no touching herself without permission, and an early bedtime and wakeup for nights when they were apart.

  "Won't be too many of those, I reckon," he chuckled. "Can't think of many things I'd rather do than love on my sweet little girl at night." Scanning over the rules o
ne last time, he nodded briskly, and turned the sheet over. "Now chores. Looked over the house some, and seems you've got a lot of work ahead of you, young lady. Do you have an apron?"

  "An apron?" Lily blinked a little. "I... uh... I think there are a couple hanging up in the pantry?" She'd never used an apron in her life, unless you counted a utilitarian painter's smock.

  "Get 'em out and let me see," he ordered, leaning back and sipping his coffee.

  Lily went to the pantry and took out the three rather faded and musty but clean aprons there, holding them up for him to see. He pointed at a white pinafore edged with slightly yellowing lace—like something out of Alice in Wonderland, sized for an adult woman.

  "That one. You'll wear it while you do your chores so you don't forget that no matter whether I'm two miles away or two hundred, you're always my little girl, always under my hand and my rule."

  Lily agreed, blushing at the unexpected excitement that gave her. Rob sketched out a list of chores and gave them to her. "We'll see how you do with these. I'm going to let you manage your own time for now, sweetheart, but if chores aren't getting done, or I'm not pleased with how you're doing, you'll get a strict schedule to help you mind better."

  "I understand," Lily said in a soft, submissive voice. "I'll be a good girl."

  "You better, young lady," he warned her sternly. "I've got a lot of work to do today, but I'll be taking some time in my woodshop to make a paddle just specially for my little girl."

  The threat sent a wave of heat through her, and Lily had to swallow before she could respond. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'll be good. Promise."

  * * * * *

  Lily cooked breakfast for them both before he went back home, leaving her with numerous kisses and warnings to behave herself, along with a promise to return for dinner. When he was gone, Lily stood in the kitchen, feeling unhappy and alone. She knew they both had responsibilities and couldn't spend every hour together, but she felt so small and vulnerable having given herself to him, and it was hard to negotiate those feelings by herself. She thought about working on her current project, but changed her mind, picking up the chore list and holding it tightly in her hand, like a talisman. She would do those first, since he seemed more interested in limiting her work hours than making sure she got enough done, and he wouldn't be pleased if she neglected the tasks he'd given her.