by May, Linnea
He collapses over me, careful not to put too much pressure on my sore skin and we remain like this, panting and slowly coming back to reality.
And then, much to my surprise, I start sobbing again.
Four
I am embarrassed at myself, but I cannot help it. The urge to cry is too strong for me to withhold and my attempt to do so only leads to me shaking and trembling beneath him. I need it.
He withdraws himself and quickly opens the knots on my wrists and ankles, slowly unfolding my body when he is done. I am still sobbing as he softly turns me around on my back and picks me up as if I weigh nothing to place my head on the soft pillows at the head of the bed. He pulls the blanket from underneath my body and covers me with it, completely wrapping my shaking body before he joins me, laying next to me and putting his arm around me.
He holds me in a firm grip, pulling me close to him and lets me sob for a while without saying a word. I calm down eventually. My breathing eases and I am finally able to relax my drained body, wrapped in his warm, comfortable embrace.
“Are you okay?” He whispers, gently pushing my chin up with his index finger so I am looking up at him.
I smile and nod. “Yes, Sir.”
Another apology is on the tip of my tongue, but I remember just in time not to say it.
“I was worried there for a moment,” he says. “I have never seen someone cry like this during their first time.”
I smirk. “It’s what I wanted, Sir.”
“So, you enjoyed yourself.”
“Yes, very much.”
“Are you sure it was not too much? Your screams were music to my ears, but I wonder if you just couldn’t remember the safe word.”
“I could,” I hastily replied. “I wanted it. Exactly like this. There was not a single moment in which I didn’t know I could end it at any time and use the safe word to make you stop. I just didn’t want you to.”
“Good,” he says, sounding relieved. “I had a great time and I am happy to hear that you did as well. It is all that matters.”
I let out a deep and long sigh, enjoying the relaxation that is taking over my body. I am comfortable and warm, wrapped his arms and the softest bed sheets that have ever covered me. The skin on my back is still burning faintly, but by now it feels more like a warm hug than actual pain.
It is strange for me to feel this comfortable in the arms of someone I have just met. I have always had little problem to fuck people I didn’t know well and was no stranger to the occasional one-night stand hook up. But I have never enjoyed cuddling, relaxing in someone else’s arm afterwards. I have never had a relationship that lasted long enough for me to build up the trust and intimacy I thought I needed to feel comfortable in a man’s innocent embrace. And here I am, completely relaxed, happy and wishing to be nowhere else but here, in his arm. It almost scares me.
He softly caresses the skin on my upper arm, slowly skimming down to my elbow and along my forearm until he reaches my hand. He clasps my hand and tenderly squeezes it.
“You have such delicate skin,” he murmurs. “I almost felt sorry for assaulting you this bad. But there is just nothing more beautiful than marks on a beautiful girl’s pale skin.”
I smile. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I should thank you for allowing me to play with such an exquisite body,” he says.
I blush at his overuse of compliments. What on earth does he see in me? A man like him, gorgeous, sexy, toned and well endowed with all the money in the world. He could have anybody, buy anything and anyone, yet he wants me. For now, at least.
“You know I want to do more to you,” he says after a while. “I have been looking for someone like you for quite a long time.”
“Someone like me?”
“Yes, someone who wants this. A beautiful soul that needs me to sculpt her. Break her delicious body into a thousand pieces and reassemble her,” he whispers. “I can feel your hunger. You want this more than might be good for you. Your desire is dangerous - it might lead you into the wrong hands. I want to protect you, give you what you need without shattering you.”
His words make me tremble with lust and excitement, and I feel like he wrapped me in another warm blanket at the same time. God, he is perfect. He is everything I have been looking for. I cannot believe how I lucky I am.
“I would take care of you. With everything I have.” He continues.
I look up at him, suddenly remembering the deal he has mentioned before. “Are you talking about paying me again?”
He smiles and subtly shakes his head. “No. I am not paying you.”
“You know what I mean,” I say.
“I do. I would love to put you in a place where you can live your life the way you want to. I hate for my sub to be restricted in their wishes when they don’t have to be.”
“They?” I frown, even though we have never talked about being exclusive and there was no reason to assume we would be.
My scowl makes him laugh. “You wouldn’t be my first sub, little girl. But you would be my only one for as long as you are mine.”
I cannot help but smile at this promise. “Okay, good.”
“If you are up to it,” he says. “You still have to say yes.”
I hesitate for a moment. He is still holding my hand, now softly stroking my skin with his thumb.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I want to play more. I want to be your sub. I really do. I trust you and I would love to learn with you.”
“Good,” he sighs. “But…?”
“But I don’t want you to pay for my studies.” I clarify. “I would not feel comfortable with that.”
He grunts and lets go of my hand. “You should know that this is a all or nothing thing for me. You either accept to be my sub and let me take care of you the way I see fit - or we’re not seeing each other again. Ever.”
My eyes widen in shock. I look at him, not trying to hide my indignation. “Are you serious?”
He nods. “Dead serious, baby girl.”
“But why is this so important to you? Why do you insist on paying for an expensive Master’s degree that - at least as far as my parents are concerned - might be a complete waste of time anyways?”
“Because I can,” he says. “Because I want to. Because it makes me happy to see my sub thrive in doing what she wants to do. And I can tell you would be unhappy otherwise. Why would I want an unhappy sub?”
I don’t know what to reply to that. I know paying for my schooling would be nothing for him, moneywise. He is as rich as one can be and supporting me would not hurt him one bit. But I just cannot convince myself to be okay with this.
“So to clarify,” I say in a low voice. “I either get to play with you and have you pay for my degree or I won’t see you at all?”
“That is right,” he replies.
I sigh. “I can’t decide that right now.”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “But as long as you haven’t decided there will be no more playing. You’ve had your test run. You have an idea what you would get yourself into.”
“Do I?” I ask and smirk at him.
He mirrors my look. “Yes, baby girl.”
I remove the blanket between us and get closer to him, skin on skin, subtly rubbing myself against his warm body. Somehow, his definitive demeanor has turned me on. I wanted more, even if it was just a little bit.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I think I might need a little more to get a better taste…”
He smiles. “Your tears haven’t even dried yet, baby girl. I am not going to do any more to you tonight.”
I look up at him with pleading eyes and skim his perfect chest with the tips of my fingers, slowly running down to his pelvis.
He reaches for my hand and stops me. “I am serious. If you want more, say yes to my proposition.”
“You are mean,” I whisper.
“Maybe,” he whispers, showing no pity on me. “But it’s the way I do things, you’ll have to get use
d to that if you are to become my sub.”
“What if I have my own way of paying for school?” I ask.
“Do you?”
I gulp. “Well, not exactly, but maybe… There’s a scholarship I applied for.”
I don’t have much hope in that regard, but after all, there is still a slight chance that this might happen.
“So you are trying to continue on your own?” He asks. “Have you already enrolled to a program?”
He got me there. “I do have a place.”
“What major?” He wants to know.
“Public Policy.”
“And what do you want to do with that degree when you’re done?”
“Now you sound just like my parents,” I mumble.
“No,” he objects. “I am not scolding you, I really want to know. You seem like a person with a plan. There must be a reason, an idea behind your wish to obtain a Master’s when most people are perfectly happy with a first degree.”
“Well,” I hesitantly reply. “There’s a few options I could imagine for myself. But I think the most interesting would be to become a policy analyst and work for a think tank or NGO - or maybe even the government. I would like to advise politicians on making smart decisions for the public, but work behind the scenes.”
He chuckles. “So, you don’t want to become president?”
I frown at him. “No. I would like to do the actual work, not just representing.”
He laughs and squeezes me tightly. “You’re cute.”
“Cute? Are you making fun of me?”
He shakes his head in defense. “God, no! I think those are wonderful and reasonable goals. And I would really like to help you achieve them.”
I remain silent and look down on the bed sheets.
“You know you absolutely need a Master’s degree to get there.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you refusing this chance I am offering you?”
I look up at him with a determined expression. “Because I want to get there on my own. I might get the scholarship. And if not, I will work and save up money so I can afford it on my own at some point.”
“But you already have the place,” he argues. “You’d just waste time with working in meaningless jobs. I admire your determination - but I still think you’re not acting wisely here.”
I frown. I am starting to get mad at him. Maybe, because I know he is right. I could just accept his offer and be rewarded with both, a satisfying sex life and the possibility to obtain the degree that I need to get where I want to be in.
“Besides,” he adds, smirking at me. “It’s not like I wouldn’t make you work for it. I will train you and it will become more challenging as time passes.”
I smile. “I would hope so.”
“Think about it, baby girl,” he says. “For now, let’s clean you up and get out of here.”
I look at him in question.
“I’m sorry, I can’t spend the night,” he explains. “I will have Frank bring you home - but let’s take a bath first.”
Now, that sounds like a brilliant idea.
Five
Despite my hopes for more, a bath actually is all that is left to happen that night. A good one though. Despite my many attempts to seduce him, he remains strong in his decision not to play any more before I make up my mind.
But he joins me in the bathtub, smiling triumphantly at the faint marks that start to show on my behind and soothing me as the hot, soapy water causes my skin to burn all over again. The intimacy and feeling of closeness between us is uncanny. As I lie in his arms, soaking in hot water, surrounded by bubbles and a floral scent, it is hard for me to believe that I didn’t even know this man less than 24 hours ago.
“This is crazy,” I randomly whisper.
He wraps his arms around me from behind and gently kisses my neck. “Yes, it is.”
I turn around to look at him. He looks back at me with the utmost affection. I am pretty sure he feels it, too. This eerie closeness. The unexplainable feeling of having known each other for years, when it has just been a few hours. It is wonderfully confusing.
And I take that feeling home. He is sitting next to me on the back seat as Frank is driving us. And he does something, I never would have dared to do by myself. He takes my hand and doesn’t let go of it the entire drive.
I cast him a confused but happy smile as he does it, but he looks away, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with me.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say as we arrive in front of my house. It is not even midnight when we arrive, a lot earlier than I would have thought.
“Thank you,” he says, now looking at me with expectant face. He reaches inside his jacket and produces a little card that he hands over to me. It is the size of a business card, but there is nothing written on it except for a cell phone number. No name, no company or any affiliation.
“My private number,” he explains. “You can reach me there. Any time.”
I look at him, somewhat intimidated. “Okay.”
His private number. I am pretty sure he does not give this one out to anybody. His trust is humbling.
“I am looking forward to hearing from you.” He adds.
I nod. “Yes, sure. Thank you. Really.”
He nods, accompanied by the most handsome smile known to human kind. This man…
I say good bye to Frank and leave the car rather hastily. Not because I feel the urge to get away from him - on the contrary - but rather, because I am scared of saying yes. It has been on the tip of my tongue for the entire evening, especially while we were soaking in the giant bath tub. And I just cannot say yes, yet. I need to think. To gather my thoughts, be smart, be rational.
Liz is still up when I enter the apartment. She comes out of her room as soon as she hears me close the door.
“Uuh!” She exclaims as she sees me. “My, my. Where have you been, looking so fancy? I haven’t seen you wear that dress in ages!”
I smile sheepishly. “Out.”
I am annoyed at myself for not thinking about what I would tell her. If I would tell her anything. Liz has been one of my closest friends for years and I know her to be quite liberal - maybe even more than me - and pragmatic. If there was anybody, I could tell about what had happened today, it would be her. I assume.
“Out?” She presses. “Where? With whom?”
I get rid of my scarf and stroll to the kitchen. “Do we have some wine left?”
Liz follows me and cocks her head. “Yes. Why?”
“I need some.”
“You’re making me curious,” Liz says, grinning from one ear to the other while she places herself at the table. “Give me a glass, too.”
I pour us two small glasses of what is left of our white wine and join her at the table.
“Okay,” I begin. “This needs to stay between us.”
Her eyes widen in anticipation. “Yes, sure!”
“I was out with Mr. Jones. Nathan Jones,” I finally dare to say. “He invited me for… a drink. And a little more.”
Her jaw drops. “What? No way!”
I take a sip of my wine and nod. “Yes.”
“So, wait,” she follows up, visibly excited. “Don’t tell me you slept with him?”
I feel my cheeks blush as I opt for another sheepish smile. “Yes, I did. And it was fucking amazing.”
“Girl!” Liz yells, raising her hand for a high five.
I raise my left eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Oh come on, if guys can do it, why not us?” She asks. “You slept with a freaking billionaire! A hot one, I might add.”
She has a point there. I give her a high five and immediately return to my slightly embarrassed demeanor afterwards.
“So, will you see him again?” She presses. “Does he want to date you - or what?”
I shrug. “It’s not that simple, actually.”
“How’s that?”
I look at her. And as I look into Liz’s curiou
s and somewhat naive eyes, I suddenly make up my mind. I will say yes. I have known all evening. Everything inside me is screaming for this man. I need to see him again, to play with him, be trained by him. I want to be close to him. Closer even than he might want me right now. The thought of saying no feels wrong on so many levels. I feel like I would cheat myself - and him.
And I would say yes to his offer. I have to, anyways. But I will try to negotiate an agreement that I could feel comfortable with. There must be a way to make this work, even for my own morals and the bad conscience that would accompany the deal in its most current format.
“Cyn?”
But what would I tell Liz? And my parents? And anybody else?
Good friend or not - I couldn’t tell her. Not right now at least.
“Well,” I reply eventually. “It all happened really fast. We just met today. I don’t know. I just said yes, because he asked and well, as you have mentioned - he is incredibly hot. And very convincing.”
“He asked right after your job interview?” She asks with a naughty grin.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Wow,” she giggles. “Told you! He has a reputation.”
“Maybe. It was fun though.”
Liz raises her eyebrows. “Be careful. Don’t lose your head over someone who might just be playing with you. Who knows how many other young, female applicants he has nailed this week.”
I nod. “Don’t worry. It was a fun night. I don’t regret it no matter what will happen next.”
She smirks. “Yeah, you look like you did.”
We say good night shortly after. Of course Liz didn’t let me off the hook without an interrogation about the events of that night. I minimize the details and don’t mention anything about what actually happened inside the hotel room. She seems satisfied nonetheless, high fiving me at least two more times during my story.
I shut myself to my room and lie down on the bed, retrieving the card and my phone from my purse to add him as a contact.
And then I stare on my screen. Contemplating. Is this a smart move? I am tired, drowsy and even a bit tipsy. And still dazed by our play. I can still feel the burns of his flogger on my skin. Should I wait till morning?
