#joctavia

“Hmm…” Miller says. “I don’t know. Are you going to behave yourself this time?” 

“Yes, of course.” She’d promise anything to get those handcuffs off. 

“Say please.” There’s laughter in his voice. 

“Please, Miller. Please uncuff me.” 

She feels him fumble the key in the lock and the left cuff is off. A few seconds later, so is the right. 

“May I sit up?” she asks. She’s a little stiff from being on her knees for so long. 

Octavia feels his hands at the back of her head and the blindfold falls free. Even though the bedroom is lit only by a small light at the bedside, her eyes blink rapidly in the light. 

Miller’s hand strokes her hair. “Go ahead. Stretch. Take a little walk if you need to.” 

She sits up and her head feels light. She worries she might faint for a second. She rubs her wrist, which is an angry red. Miller sits down next to her and takes her other wrist in his hand, gently massaging it. 

“Did I fasten them too tight?” he asks. 

“Probably just tight enough.” 

He presses warm lips to her temple. “You know I never want to hurt you, right?” 

Octavia laughs. “Tell that to my butt.” 

“I mean really hurt you.” 

“I know.” The real potential for hurt with Miller isn’t anything physical, she thinks. Loving another person, especially one as bruised by life as Miller, carries great risk. 

He hands her a glass of water. “Here, drink.” 

Octavia swallows almost all of the water in just a few gulps. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she drank. On slightly wobbly legs, she stands up and stretches. She walks a few steps across the bedroom and stands in front of the mirror on the back of the door. Her bottom is bright red from the spanking, a sight that never fails to excite her. She shivers just a little, thinking of the belt cracking across her ass and Miller’s hand holding the belt. 

Miller comes over and touches her bottom. “Does it hurt a lot?” 

“It’s a good hurt,” she says. It will ache more tomorrow, she knows, but for now it’s a gentle, throbbing burn. 

“Enough talk,” he says. “Get in bed and lie down.” His spine straightens and his chin lifts as he slips into top mode. 

“Is that an order?” she says, with a grin. 

“Don’t make me cuff you again. I’ll do it if you’re not a good girl.” 

Octavia touches her chafed left wrist. That’s the last thing she wants. 

Miller slides in next to her. “I want you to be very still, Tavi. Let me do all the work.” 

She does her best to not move as he begins running his hands all over her, so lightly it almost tickles as he strokes her calves, her thighs, her belly and then reaches her breasts. He circles her nipples with his index finger and she has to suppress a gasp. Her body is so sensitive right now. Every cell feels like it’s crackling under his fingers. 

“I talk a lot about your ass, but your breasts aren’t bad either,” he says, his voice sounding strangled. Miller throws a leg over her body, straddling her, and bends to her to take a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it. 

“Oh,” she groans as he begins to suck in earnest. She feels that direct line from her breasts down her stomach to her pussy. 

He alternates breasts, his hands stroking her. Octavia wants to grasp his head and direct him but he told her to be still. Her fingers clutch the sheets beneath her. 

Miller lifts his head, his brown eyes seeming to bore into her. “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes,” she manages to gasp. 

He licks his full lower lip. “Good.” 

His lips trace a burning trail down her belly and she feels his warm breath on the curls between her legs. Instinctively, she spreads her legs wider for him, even though he told her not to move. The oxygen catches in her throat as she feels a finger slide between her folds. 

“You’re so wet for me, Tavi,” he says. “I love knowing that I make you so wet and slippery.” 

Sometimes she thinks that if she tried hard enough she could come just from the sound of his voice, saying things like that to her. There’s something about having spent more than a year as his cop partner, hearing his voice interrogating suspects, threatening gangsters, and now hearing that same voice telling her that he loves how he makes her wet. 

Her head thrashes against the pillow as he licks her with agonizing slowness, exploring every nook and cranny of her. She’s already dangerously close to coming. It’s not going to take much. His tongue finally reaches her clit, lightly flicking against it and Octavia finds it’s becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. 

“I’m really close,” she gasps, warning him. She knows he’ll probably want to tease her for what will feel like an eternity. But instead of stopping or slowing, she feels his fingers plunge into her. 

“Don’t stop, Miller,” she hears herself cry out, her fingers grasping at the sheets so hard it hurts. 

He doesn’t stop. She feels him suck at her clitoris, his fingers fucking her hard, in and out in a steady rhythm. She wants to obey his order not to move but she can’t help herself, her hips bucking against each thrust, until yes, oh my god yes, yes, yes, she feels herself coming apart with deep, fierce contractions that go on and on and on until she feels like she might pass out. 

Finally, he stops and so does she. “You came close to murdering me,” Octavia says, opening her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she’d closed them in the first place. 

“I’m not done yet,” he growls. He lifts his head from between her legs and the expression on his face makes her shiver. 

Miller touches her clitoris with his tongue again, and she’s so over-stimulated it almost hurts at first. She’s about to tell him to stop when she feels his finger press against her asshole and then slowly slide inside. This creates a new form of sensation, somehow deeper and fuller. If it were a color, as she sometimes imagines when he’s spanking her, it would be a rich royal blue, maybe even purple. 

One finger becomes two and then two become three. Octavia never thought it could feel this good to have his fingers inside her ass.  This kind of play has always felt dirty to her in a bad way but it doesn’t tonight. It feels like the most natural thing in the world for him to fuck her there with his fingers, his tongue circling her clit. It seems like they’ve been doing this since the beginning of time. 

His fingers pull out of her and his tongue stops moving. “What…” she starts to protest, propping herself on her elbows to see him get out of bed. She’ll murder him deader than dead if it’s all over now. 

Miller opens the drawer of the table and as soon as she sees what he pulls out of there, a thrill runs through her. She knows exactly what he’s going to do and instead of it being a scary idea, it just makes her break out in goosebumps in anticipation. 

Standing at the side of the bed, he hands her a condom and a bottle. “Want to do the honors?” 

She sits up and rolls the condom over his cock with practiced fingers. She squirts a dollop of lube in her hand, rubs her hands together to warm it up. Miller makes a small sound in his throat as she takes his stiff, latex-covered cock in her slippery hand, sliding the lube on from root to tip and back again. She loves the feel of him under her fingers, so thick and hard. 

He pushes her hand away. “Enough of that.” 

She laughs. “Hands and knees, master?” She refuses to use words like “sir” and “master” with him because they seem demeaning to her but she does enjoy teasing him every once in a while. 

He shakes his head. “No. I want to see your face, Tavi. On your back.” 

She dutifully lies back. Miller grabs a couple of pillows from the bed. “Lift your hips,” he whispers and slides them under her bottom. 

He straddles her and kisses her for a long, lovely moment. “You ready?”

Octavia nods. 

Miller wraps his hands around her calves and lifts them until they rest on his shoulders. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” he says. 

She feels the head of his cock press against her opening and she braces herself for the pain to come. But there’s only a mild, steady burn he slowly slides inside her ass. “My god,” she gasps, squeezing her eyes shut. She feels the deep sensation of him filling her again. 

He touches her cheek. “Eyes open, Tavi,” he orders, his hands grasping her legs. “Be a good girl and look at me.” 

Her eyes flutter open to see his face, the expression unexpectedly tender. “Oh, Miller.” 

Miller starts thrusting in her, gently at first. It burns a little but that only makes her more excited. Definitely purple, she thinks, as she feels his cock slide in and out of her ass. This feels so much more intimate than regular sex as Miller is the only one who has fucked her like this. She feels like he owns everything about her. 

She keeps her gaze steadily locked on his golden brown eyes and his face, which has become beautiful to her in the months they’ve been lovers. He has to let go of her leg several times to push his hair out of his eyes and it makes her want to laugh but she doesn’t dare. She’ll have a private laugh later. 

“You’re so tight, Tavi,” he exhales, bending to kiss her. “I wish I could tell you how fucking good this feels.” 

Octavia nods, grasping his strong shoulders. She also wishes she had the words to describe to him how she’s feeling—pleasure and pain so strongly comingled that she doesn’t know which is which anymore. All she knows is that she’s never felt closer to Miller than at this moment. And she’s never wanted to come more. 

“Can I touch myself?” she whispers. “Please?” 

“Yeah, sure. You’ve been very, very good.” 

She feels him withdraw from her and she groans in disappointment. “What are you—?” 

“Turn over.” 

Octavia doesn’t think, just rolls over onto her hands and knees. 

“Damn, that ass of yours, Tavi. It’s almost too much right now, pink and pretty and…” He enters her again, this time so fast it hurts as he stretches her. 

She doesn’t really understand any of this, why Miller is the only person she’s ever trusted to do this to her. Before him, she’d slept with plenty of people. When she was young, she went out almost every weekend and picked out someone to fuck as experience, adventure. But she was never able to let go completely like she does with Miller. With him, she’ll do anything. 

With one hand, she grabs onto the headboard and the other hand finds her clit, swollen and aching for contact. Just as she begins to circle it with her first two fingers, Miller’s hand slaps her ass. “No fair,” she says. 

“Just reminding you who’s in charge,” he says and smacks her again. 

Octavia loses her grasp on reality again. Even though her eyes are open, the room grows dark. She can only register sensation—the thrusts of his cock in and out of her ass, the pain of his hand striking her cheeks, her own fingers on her clit. Mars could mount a full assault on Ceres right at this moment and she wouldn’t even notice. Somewhere, off in the distance, she can hear herself making whimpering sounds, and Miller answering her with throaty groans. 

“Come for me,” he mutters. “It’s time, Tavi.” He stops spanking her and grabs her hips with his strong hands. 

She presses her fingers into her clit, crying out as the waves break inside her. Her orgasm feels different from every other one she’s had in her life. Dark, dark purple, she thinks, as the contractions move from her clit down to her ass, so powerful that she starts shaking  and almost collapses on her face. 

“Oh yeah, oh yeah,” Miller is saying, as if repeating a sacred mantra. He’s fucking her so hard it probably is hurting her but in the afterglow of her climax, she isn’t able to experience it as pain. 

“Come for me,” she says, daring to order him for a change. 

She feels one last desperate thrust of his cock into her and then hears a long string of mostly unintelligible words from him. His fingers are digging into her hips so hard that she’ll probably have fingertip bruises. 

He finally stills. Her hands give way beneath her and she falls to the mattress, taking Miller with her. The weight of him feels like it might crush her but she doesn’t mind as she feels the rapid rise and fall of his chest on her back. 

“Can’t breathe,” he gasps. “I think I’m dead, Tavi.” 

For several minutes they just lie there, breathing together. 

Miller rolls off her and off the bed. “Be right back,” he says and she hears his footsteps padding to the bathroom. She rests her cheek against the mattress, feeling oddly light, like she could fly away off into that other dimension. 

She feels the mattress give as he sits down on the bed.  He starts lightly scratching her neck and then her upper back. He does this sometimes to help get her out of her head and come back to reality. 

“You still in there?” he asks. 

She lifts her head and smiles. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

His fingernails scratch circles and figure eights on her shoulder blades. “That was something else,” he says. She feels his breath warming her neck. Miller’s hands move to her bottom, which is throbbing a little. “I have just the thing for that but let’s take a shower first.” 

Octavia lets him help her up off the bed. She feels like she’s having an out-of-body experience, there but not there either. Her butt hurts, her legs ache, and she’s never felt better in her life, like she downed three shots of vodka and smoked a good bowl of hash. 

In the bathroom, Miller turns the shower on. “Only thirty percent left,” he notes. “I think I’ve been using up a lot of your water.” He steps in the shower and reaches out his hand to her. 

The cool water feels wonderful on her overheated skin. She tips her head back and lets the spray hit her face. This must be what rain feels like, she thinks. Miller gently and thoroughly lathers her up with her vanilla-scented soap and then rinses her off.  She’s still a bit lost inside her head and passively lets him dry her with the towel, as if she’s a child after a bath. 

“Are you okay, Octavia?” His eyes look a little worried. 

She nods. “I’m just tired. You wore me out, Miller.” 

The smile on his face is wicked. “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Not bad for an old man,” she says, poking him in the shoulder. She loves to tease him about their twelve-year age difference. 

He helps her into bed, settling her onto her stomach. “Just relax,” he says and walks out of the room. 

In a minute, he returns with a glass of water and something wrapped in one of her dishtowels. 

“What's that?” she asks. 

“Just a little something I picked up after I so cruelly abandoned you.” He hands her the glass and she lifts her head to drink it down. 

“More pizza?” 

Miller laughs. “Nope.” He places the towel on her bottom and she feels soothing cold. “I found a pharmacy still open and bought one of those cold packs. Threw it in your freezer when I came back.” 

“Mmm…it feels good.” It warms her to know that he can be thoughtful sometimes. 

He lies down next to her, on his stomach too. He wraps one arm around her waist and pulls him closer to him.  She breathes in the scent of her soap on him, brushes her cheek against his whiskers. She still hasn’t had the guts to tell him, but she loves this man. Against all logic and reason, she loves him. 

“It means a lot that you trust me to do that to you,” he says softly. 

“I do,” she breathes. 

“I trust you implicitly, Tavi,” he says, his fingers stroking her back, “but I don’t think I’d trust anyone, even you, to hurt me like that.” 

“I know.” She lifts and turns her head and kisses him. 

A few weeks ago, after a whiskey or two too many, he told her about the children’s home, how the caregivers mercilessly beat their young charges for the smallest infractions. Miller was only four years old when he was taken there after losing his parents. She can’t imagine how it felt to be that young and vulnerable, thrown into an institution and punished almost every day. 

It explains a lot about Miller. Sometimes she wonders if he enjoys dominating her in bed because it gives him the control he so utterly lacked as a boy, but she doesn’t care to delve too deeply into the psychology of it. If they both enjoy what they’re doing, why bother. 

Miller pulls the comforter over them and turns out the light. “Keep the pack on,” he says. 

“Yes, sir.”  Her eyelids are growing heavier by the second as sleep crooks its little finger at her. 

She feels him roll onto his side. “Hey, Tavi?” 

“Yes?” She’s already halfway asleep. 

“I feel bad about your water.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“About using it up all the time. Maybe…what if I transferred my water account here? I hardly ever use mine anymore.” 

Her eyes open in the dark. This is serious business. Moving his account to her apartment is a big commitment, maybe more important than getting married here on Ceres. 

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “Why not?” Right now everything seems possible with Miller, even merging their water rations. 

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” he says, his voice sounding drowsy. 

She closes her eyes again, feeling sucked into the whirlpool of sleep. Just before she goes completely under, she hears Miller say something else, but she has no idea what it is, except that it’s good. 

Octavia falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

* 

The next time she opens her eyes, the bedroom is light. Octavia automatically glances at her clock and gasps when she sees that it’s 09:32. Shit, shit, shit, she’s late for work, she’s late for everything. And then she remembers that she has the day off and there’s nowhere in particular she needs to be. 

Miller’s not in bed with her. He must have left for work. 

She gets out of bed and stands on legs that ache a little, which makes her smile, remembering last night. She touches her bottom, which feels a bit swollen but doesn’t hurt as much as she’d expect. The cold pack must have helped. 

Octavia pees and brushes her teeth, looks at herself in the mirror, her hair wild and kinky but her eyes bright. She likes what she sees. 

As soon as she steps out of the bathroom, she smells it. Coffee and something else, something…could it be? 

Miller is sitting at the kitchen table, wearing only his shorts and reading something on his terminal. “Morning, gufovedi,” he says, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Am I smelling what I think I’m smelling?” she asks, hands on her hips. 

He walks to the oven and opens it with a flourish. Inside is a pizza, the cheese bubbling. It looks like real cheese to her eyes and it sure smells like it, too. 

“What? How?” she says, laughing in astonishment. “Did you go all the way back to Mario’s last night?” 

The dimples on his face deepen. “Yep. Thought we could start fresh with a new pizza.” 

“You’re nuts,” she says and kisses him. 

Five minutes later, the pizza is ready and they sit down. Octavia burns her tongue on the nuclear-hot cheese but keeps on eating anyhow. What’s a little burn when there’s fresh mozzarella to be had? 

Within seconds the pizza is almost gone. There’s just one piece left and, by all rights, it belongs to Miller. With a grin, she grabs for the piece, tossing it on her plate. 

“That’s my piece,” he says. “If you eat that, you’re in big trouble, girl.” 

“Exactly,” she says, laughing, and takes a big bite.

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