Her Possessive VET || COMPLETED||✔

16

Delaney

Three hours later I’m face down on a portable massage table which was in our royal penthouse suite when we arrived.  I wasn’t expecting it, but apparently Donovan sure was.

He’s planned this out to the very last detail, which is why my favorite musician, Wynton Marsalis, invited me onstage and even sang a song for me.  Strangely enough he never made eye contact during the whole thing and he dedicated the song to Donovan and I.  Once he did that at the end, showing that he knew Donovan’s name, I realized why he refused to look in my eye.

He knew who I belonged to and was just being nice because of whatever strings Donovan pulled.

And the second he comes back into the main room with his bottle of oil he pulls down the “sting” that is the zipper on my dress.

I hear a grumbling in his belly as I come up on all fours as he slides the dress straight off my back.  I have nothing on underneath.  Nothing.

He inhales deeply and I turn just in time, looking over my shoulder as I see his eyes roll back in his head until they close.

When his lids reopen he just looks at me with a lazy kind of peace.  “Face forward,” he commands, and I carefully lower myself back down onto my stomach, putting my face in that little donut hole thing at the top just before I feel his meaty paws slide warm oil up and down my back as the smooth sounds of jazz play from the speakers in our suite.

The concert was incredible and I’m blown away by Donovan remembering not only the kind of music I like but also my favorite musician.  I’d say we got lucky that Wynton was in town, but then again I know this was all meant to be, so I doubt luck actually played into it.

Wynton even invited us backstage after the show and played one additional song for us, telling us how perfect we looked together and posing for pictures with us.

It was truly a magical night, although the wizard wasn’t the performer on stage.  It was the man who cast a spell on me years ago.

Donovan.

His hands slide up and down my back, applying just the right amount of pressure as all the tension in my back just melts away, the same process playing out a few moments later on my shoulders and neck.

I feel like a wet noodle, completely pliable to his touch.  And like a noodle I just want him to put all of me in his mouth and suck me right up, claiming all of me…not that he hasn’t already.

His hands continue to move around my body for what must be an hour, although I lost track of time long ago.

I notice that when he gets high on my hamstrings and around my butt there are audible groans which I can hear over the music and despite the fact that all the blood is in my face and my ears aren’t really positioned to pick up on his tone.

But it’s there.  It’s very much there.

Not just his tone, but what it represents.  His need.  His want.  His desire.

And mine is there too, which is why the insides of my upper legs are practically sticking together already…and it’s not from the oil.

“How do you feel?” he asks after another long period of releasing tension and stress I didn’t even know was in my calves and feet melts away.

“Light as a feather.”

“Good, because I’m going to pick you up now and take you to the shower where you can wash off.”

“And what are you going to do?” I ask mischievously.

“I’m going to the other shower to wash up too…before I explode.”  He pauses.  “And then I’ll see you again in the bedroom.”

His tone is so gruff and matter of fact.  I want to smile, but even with my face down I don’t.  I know how hard giving me that massage must have been for him.  As a matter of fact I felt it on a few occasions when he leaned over me.  Yeah, it was hard…very hard.

“Okay,” softly escapes my lips, which still taste of him.

On multiple occasions when the camera panned toward us in the front row at the show he claimed my lips possessively.  When most guys see a camera they back away or try not to do something that will be preserved for all of history.

Not Donovan.  The camera was like a signal to him to show the world who I belonged to, and equally as much who belonged to me.

We’re perfect for each other, and as I feel his arms slide underneath me, picking me up just as he promised, I know we’re minutes closer to belonging to each other officially, for the first time and forever.