The Exhibitionist (The Submissive #6) Read Online Free PDF Page A

first. As her inner muscles squeezed me, I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer. I gasped as I released inside her.
Fuck.
It’d been a long time since I came so hard. We were both still and breathing hard for a long time.
    Finally, I drew her close and kissed her. “You made me so proud tonight.” She sighed and burrowed into my arms, mumbling something under her breath I couldn’t make out.
    “What was that?” I asked.
    “Love you.”
    I smiled. “Love you, too.”

Chapter Three
    ABBY
    T he following weekend, I made my way to our bedroom, running the obstacle course comprising moving boxes, bubble wrap, and tape. The packers we’d hired had been busy all day getting together the items we planned to take to Delaware. Most of the boxes were half-filled, though a few had already been taped up. Several empty ones lined the hallway. But no matter how much they held, they all had one thing in common—they were brown.
    “I’ve decided brown is my least favorite color,” I announced to Nathaniel as I finally made it into our room.
    “The most boring of all colors,” he agreed. He stood beside the bed, going through an open box. “Did Elizabeth settle down?”
    “Yes, she wants to know when Jeff and Dena’s baby will be able to play and she didn’t quite grasp there were still seven months until he or she is born. And then she wanted to know how the baby got into Dena’s belly in the first place.”
    Nathaniel laughed. “I wasn’t expecting that conversation just yet. I thought we had a few more years.”
    I rummaged through my drawer, looking for pajamas. “You’ve got ten hours. I told her to ask you in the morning.” He stopped laughing and I giggled at his expression. “I’m kidding. I told her we’d talk about it later, that it was too late tonight. Have you seen my blue-striped pajamas?”
    He nodded. “I put them in with the winter clothes yesterday. They’re in a box somewhere.”
    I shut the drawer closed with more force than was necessary. “Everything’s in disarray. Nothing’s where I can find it.”
    It was a slight exaggeration. We weren’t packing everything. And
we
technically weren’t packing anything. We’d hired a company to do that for us. But it still didn’t take away from the fact that I couldn’t put my hands on my favorite set of pajamas when I wanted them.
    “In about another hour you won’t need pajamas anyway,” he said, taking the box off the bed.
    He was right, of course. It was a Friday night and he’d collared me a few hours ago. We were experimenting with lower protocol outside the playroom. A useful thing, since thus far our scheduled collar time had consisted of boxes, trying to get the kids to sleep, boxes, taking Apollo outside, and boxes.
    “But I’d like to wear something comfortable until then,” I said, and then quickly added, “Sir.”
    I needed a few hours in the playroom. Needed to let him take over and make all the decisions. I felt stressed and frazzled. When I got that way, there was one thing guaranteed to make it all better: kneeling at Nathaniel’s feet.
    My phone buzzed with an incoming e-mail. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and sighed when I saw it was from Meagan, my boss. A few months ago, the blog I wrote detailing my submissive journey came to the attention of a large media network. They offered me a job writing content for the women’s sexuality section of their Web site, as well as posts about BDSM for their late-night talk show on women’s health. Occasionally, I’d also appear on the show to answer questions.
    I scanned Meagan’s e-mail. The topic for Monday night’s live episode had been changed, thanks to a particularly virulent case of the flu hitting several of the guests scheduled to talk. That meant the blog post I’d prepared wouldn’t work.
    “Damn,” I said. “I told her we were moving starting this weekend. A new post will take a ton of research. I don’t know how she expects me to fit four days of work