Page 44 of The Facilitator, Part 2

“Nothing, it’s okay,” I said, completely losing my nerve.

“How about one small glass of wine outside?”

“Sure.” I shrugged my shoulders, deflated.

He poured two glasses of the white wine we’d had earlier. I prayed my stomach would accept it, and we walked outside. He took my hand and we continued to walk to the beach. We stood and watched the waves and the moon light up the shore.

“Ask me, Lauren,” he whispered. I turned to him. It took me a minute to gather my nerve.

“Mackenzie, will you marry me?”

He didn’t speak but he took my glass from my hand. He lowered himself to place them on the sand and continued until he was on one knee. I covered my mouth with my hands.

He pulled from his pocket a velvet case.

“This was my mother’s,” he said, as he opened the lid. “Yes, I’ll marry you, tomorrow if we could.”

In the moonlight, he took the ring from the case and I held out my hand. Yet again, I shed tears as he placed that ring on my finger. It was a little too big, but I didn’t care. It was beautiful. The white band held a square cut diamond framed by smaller ones.

Mackenzie stood and wrapped me in his arms. “I mean it. If we can get married in the next few days, that would be fucking awesome.”

“My mum…yes, see if we can do it.”

I was about to suggest my mum would be terribly upset, but then I remembered Mack’s words to me. He didn’t have the luxury of time, and we could always have a service when we got home.

“Let’s do it,” I shouted, excited. “Oh my fucking god.” I laughed as he picked me up and swung me around.

“Mrs. Miller, I’ve been fucking waiting for weeks for you to do that,” he said.

“You could have asked me,” I said.

“No, how many times have I told you. You hold all the power.”

“I need to call Gabriella, we need to plan something. Can we marry on the beach, here?”

Mackenzie laughed. “I have no idea. I guess we can find out tomorrow.”

I ran to the house and grabbed my phone. I dialled.

“Gabri…” my voice cracked.

“What’s happened, I’m coming to you now,” she said.

“Wait, it’s okay. Oh God, I’m getting married, next week if we can arrange it.”

I held the phone away; burst eardrums from her screech most certainly would have postponed any nuptials. I could hear Vivienne in the background demanding to know what was happening. Gabriella, between tears, told her my news.

“You tell her I will be with her first thing in the morning for a planning meeting,” I heard.

“Did you hear that?” Gabriella asked.

“I did, but this is just us on a beach, please?”

“I’ll try, no guarantees of course. You might need Mackenzie to charm her out of a huge white wedding.”

We both laughed as Mackenzie walked into the kitchen.

“I need to go, I’ll see you in the morning.”

I disconnected the call as Mackenzie scooped me up in his arms. Without a word, he carried me upstairs. He sat me gently on the bed.

“You know, this is going to be the first time of many that I fuck you as my fiancée. Naked, now.”

My stomach knotted as I rushed to remove my clothes. He walked to the closet and pulled down two ties. He scanned the room, and then he smiled slowly.

“Come here, Lauren,” he said. His voice had deepened, and I was immediately taken back to the club when I shared time with him and Veronica.

He placed his hands on my arms and he positioned me so my back was to the heavy wooden wardrobe. He took one tie and fastened it around my wrist. He raised my arm and looped the tie over a decorative finial on the top corner. He tightened it before repeating the process with my other wrist.

He was just inches away. I reached forward to kiss him; he pulled back. I stared at him. The intensity in his eyes, the dilated pupils, gave him a fearsome look, but I knew different. I held all the power.

“Kiss me,” I whispered.

He reached up and grabbed my throat, not tight, but enough to hold my head where he wanted it to be. There was nothing threatening in his touch, choking wasn’t my thing. He was dominating me, and that was my thing.

He lowered his face close to mine; his eyes were still open and his lips just millimetres away.

I could feel his breath and was sure he’d feel my ragged ones.

I closed my eyes in preparation for him to command my mouth, and then I moaned when he moved my head to the side, and his lips graced the skin just under my ear. His chuckle was low.

He lifted my chin and ran his tongue down the side of my neck, and across my collarbone.

He lowered until the tip of his tongue grazed over my nipple.

Before I could prepare myself, he bit down and held.

He held until the numbness took away the pain.

He held some more and then he released. I threw my head back as the tingle of returning blood rushed over my skin, and he captured my moan just as it was about to leave my lips.

His tongue swiped over mine, his teeth nipped at my lips until they swelled, and he kissed me hard.

I missed his heat when he pulled away. I opened my eyes to watch him walk to a chest of drawers, where he opened the top one. He ran a stocking over his hand, letting the silk material fall through his fingers like liquid. He picked up another.

Mackenzie placed his hands on my sides, as he lowered to a crouch.

He ran his tongue down my stomach, circling my navel, twirling through pubic hair.

I throbbed, waiting for him. His hands slid over my hips and down my thighs and then he pulled his head away.

I wanted to sob. My body was humming for his touch; every nerve ending was coursing static over my skin, needing, wanting him.

He grabbed an ankle and slid my foot to the side; he tied it to the foot of the wardrobe. He did the same to the other. I was secured in the same way I would have been had a St. Andrew’s Cross been behind me. I rested my back against the cool wood and I could have been in heaven.

I openly and willingly succumbed to him.

I heard the clink of a buckle, the swish as a belt was pulled from the loops of his jeans, and my body thrummed in anticipation.

I gently shook as I watched him wrap the buckle end around his fist. I sucked in a breath and I felt the end gently flick against my stomach.

I cried out his name as those flicks became stronger.

A pattern formed. He flicked in circles, ever decreasing and lowering until he was nearly where I wanted him to be.

My clitoris throbbed, wetness coated my inner thighs, and I could smell my arousal, so strong and powerful.

When he flicked against my pussy, I was sure I would come. I arched my back as much as I could.

“What do you need, Lauren?” he whispered. Just his voice, that commanding low tone caused my arousal to spike.

“I need more,” I whispered.

“Like this?” The belt licked across my stomach and I cried out. I shook my head; it wasn’t enough.

“Like this?” The sting to my thighs was nearly there. I shook my head.

The second harder whip to my clitoris toppled me over the edge. I screamed, not caring the wardrobe was banging against the wall as I flung my head back. Mackenzie dropped to his knees; he licked and sucked that orgasm from me. It was his and he was taking it.

“This cunt is mine. Say it, Lauren,” he growled between licking and sucking.

I could only mewl in response.

“Say it!” he shouted enough to startle me.

“It’s yours, all of me is yours.”

I had never felt a sensation like it when he closed his teeth around my clitoris. It both stung and burned, it was delicious and awful, it produced shudders through my body and down my legs, and I could have come again.

“My cunt is yours!” I shouted. The relief I felt when he pulled his head away weakened my knees.

He gently licked, flattening his tongue across my opening, and then blowing so very gently to soothe me. He stood.

His chin, his lips, were slick, and he smelled of me as he closed in.

The tang of metallic, acidic, bloodlike arousal wafted over me, and every brain cell fired off a message at the same time.

Although between fight and flight, I was in such a heightened state of arousal it paralysed me. He ran his tongue over my lips.

“Taste yourself,” he whispered. I did. I licked his lips, the tip of my tongue trailed over his chin, his slight stubble scratched.

“I want to taste that again,” I said.

He pushed two fingers inside me, twisting and pumping until he was sure they were coated. He removed them and pressed down on my lower lip. I opened my mouth and sucked them in.

“Your taste is addictive, isn’t it?” he growled. I couldn’t answer him.

“You’re addictive,” he whispered.

With that, he pulled his fingers away and the end of the belt got to work.

Sweat ran down between my breasts. His chest had a sheen as the heat in the room turned to humidity. The combination of smells was overwhelming: erotic, and musky. I took a large lungful of air through my nose, inhaling the scent. The fusion aroused me further.

A slight draft wafted over my body and I opened my eyes. Mackenzie had stepped away. I watched as he unzipped his jeans and let them fall. He stepped out and then cupped his cock with his free hand.

He slid his hand up and down, all the time staring at me. If the sight of him—one hand pleasuring himself, the other with the leather belt wrapped around it and hanging by his side—was the last my eyes would see, it would be enough of an image to last my lifetime.

His cock was rigid, the veins so prominent as the blood pumped. It pulsed a little in his hand and the shine as pre-cum wept onto his thumb had me moan some more.

His stomach muscles tightened and he threw his head back. His jaw was so tense, his teeth clenched as his cum spurted over his hand, and he milked his cock for all it would give me.

“That’s mine,” I said, not recognising my voice at all.

He slowly brought his head forward and smiled, a dangerous smile. He was still, slowly, running his hand up and down his cock as he stepped towards me.

“This is yours?” He held his hand up, and his cum coated his fingers.

I nodded, completely unsure what he was going to do next.

“If you were faced away, Lauren, this would make a useful lubricant to fuck your ass. Instead…”

He placed two fingertips on my lips, and as before, I sucked his fingers clean.

I licked his cum—still with a hint of me in the mix—from his hand, from his palm, and his moan as I did so hit my very core.

He palmed my face, smearing what little was left on my skin as he kissed me.

I was sure he would taste himself and that thought was so dirty I ached with desire.

Mackenzie untied my ankles and the relief I could give myself by squeezing my legs tightly together was wonderful. Pulses of pleasure rolled through my stomach. He unhooked the ties from the finials and I was freed.

“Turn around,” he said, clearly not done with me. “Place your hands on the doors.”

I was in the frisk position just as the sting of the leather across my arse had me cry out.

Again, and again, he flicked the belt. Again, and again, I demanded more.

When I cried out needing to come, he stopped.

I turned my head sharply to look at him.

He picked me up and carried me to the bed, deposited me roughly on the top and he sat astride me.

He grabbed my wrists and held them above my head.

“Do not move from that position,” he said.

I didn’t respond; he’d know my answer. Right then he could do what the fuck he wanted, as long as a fuck was included.

I was desperate for him to be inside me.

I didn’t have to wait long. He shuffled back and raised my hips a little.

He was none too gentle when he pushed inside me.

Holding himself above me, he fucked me so hard the solid wooden bed rocked against the wall, and its legs screeched on the planked floor.

That sound was drowned out by my moans and his growls.

I know I came, I felt it. I felt every muscle tense, heat and ice prick at my skin, and my body shook. I also knew I passed out, again.

I woke some hours later and all I could smell was that damn aloe vera Mackenzie was so keen on for his aftercare.

Of course, I missed all the aftercare, but I knew I was cleaned, any redness or stings were soothed with the cooling lotion, and he would not have left my side.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me and the sun was halfway raised.

I reached out and touched him. When he turned, he held his phone and I was unsure of the look on his face. My stomach fell.

He turned his phone to me.

“I had to,” he said.

I was looking at a picture of me. The sheet was low on my stomach, covering my lower half.

My head was turned towards him, my eyes closed, and my hair fanned out around me.

My lips were obviously swollen and my cheeks were still flushed.

I was just post orgasm, I thought. But it was my hand crossed over my body and rested on my chest he was showing me.

The hand that displayed his mother’s ring. It was a beautiful photograph.

“I’m going to get that printed and framed,” he said.

“Just make sure no one else sees it.”

“That will be in my private collection.”

I pushed myself up on one elbow, expecting to wince but feeling surprisingly sting free, perhaps his precious aloe vera was working a treat.

“Your private collection?”

“I want a picture of every process you go through when you come. It’s a sight I never want to forget.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I want us photographed, Lauren, and I mean professionally.”

“Having sex?” I said, sitting upright.

“Making love, fucking, having sex, everything. And I know exactly where and who.”

I held up my hand to have him pause.

“Is this on your list?” I asked.

“No, I only ever had one thing on my list. That will be completed the minute we are legally married. But I think it’s time we both started a new one.” He winked and I laughed.