“Come to me,” he instructs without emotion, making me feel very intimidated.
I crawl towards him slowly, keeping my head down so he cannot see my unease. The wine is rushing to my head, making me feel a little giddy and light-headed but I keep moving. When my hair reaches his crutch I stop, waiting for my next instruction. What does he intend to do to me?
He reaches for my chin. “Look at me.”
I do, resting my chin on the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. Our eyes meet, his are alight with raw desire mine, I expect, convey more trepidation than submission.
In a broken whisper, he explains. “You drive me fucking crazy. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t even think straight when we’re apart and it’s all because of you.”
In his confession, there’s a vulnerability which moves me, but it’s tinged with something else: suppressed anger. Has he been bottling this up the whole time we’ve been together? I try to shake my chin free, but he tightens his grip. It’s firm but not painful. Seeing me wince a little he releases it and strokes the reddened area softly with his thumb.
“Have you any idea how hard it is for me to operate when I feel as if I’ve lost all self-control?”
I can’t move and I don’t need to, his confession has me riveted to the spot.
“What happened in L.A. can’t ever happen again. It’s too high a price to pay for loving you.”
I try to sit up, pulling on his knees in an attempt to find a comfortable kneeling position. He removes my hands and places them by my side. Why won’t he let me touch him?
“The flight home gave me the time I needed to think, and it’s been eating away at me ever since.”
I have no idea what’s coming next so remain static, focusing only on his despairing face, offering my silent submission.
“I can’t let you speak because I know you’ll tell me everything is fine and you’ll bewitch me with your gentle assurances. But things are far from fine.” He pauses, looks away for some reason and turns to face me head-on. “I’m not the man you think I am.”
My face must show my astonishment. That single statement literally rocks me and I sway to the right. I go to speak but stop, my lips forming into that rounded O.
His fingertips brush against my lips. “You even had me believing I was this ‘Smartie’ guy.” He stifles a smug smile. “I wanted to be soft and yielding for you and I’ve tried so hard to suppress every urge I have to be dominant, but pretending to be that person nearly fucked up 16 years of seriously hard work.”
He takes my face in his hands. “I am a dominant man Beth, there’s no denying it. When I think of you, I imagine doing ... well, let’s not get into that now, other than saying we’re not talking about vanilla sex, even though I know it is the only flavour you’re comfortable with.”
His attention wavers as he considers the implications of what he is saying; his focus settles in a distant dark corner of the room where he can be alone with his thoughts.
Maybe I should be, but I’m not shocked. As inexperienced as I am, I’ve had my suspicions. But, now I’m fearful this could be an unforgettable night for all the wrong reasons.
He clears his throat and starts again. “I have certain needs Beth, and pretending I don’t is not good for my mental health.”
I find my voice. “So all this time it’s been a game, nothing about our relationship has been genuine?” He looks mortified and takes hold of my arms. I start to tingle, feeling his trembling grip.
“No, it’s been real and I suppose it has been a kind of game at times, but it just got real for me.”
“Lucky you,” I retort sarcastically.
“Yeah, lucky me. I am lucky, lucky to have found you. If I didn’t care so much, do you think I would have tried so hard to be the man you want?” He looks so despairing, I want to hold him. But I fear his rebuke.
I risk rejection and frame his face with my hands. “You are the only man I want Ayden.” Here we are eyeball to eyeball, holding onto each other as if our lives depend on it.
“I’ve tried so many times to tell you but I’m afraid I might not be that guy. How many times have I said I don’t deserve you? How many fucking times!”
“I don’t know.” My eyes glaze over with tears.
“I need more,” he asserts, his voice overflowing with emotion. “I just need more.”
“I don’t understand.” I pull back, helplessly confused.
He lowers his hands from my face and I do the same, watching him pinch the top of his nose and wipe his nostrils with the back of his hand. “I’ve trusted you. I’ve given my body to you. I need you to trust me enough to give your body to me.”
“I said I would gift myself to you, I said that,” I implore.
“But that was you teasing Beth, you playing innocent games with me. The difference is: I’m being serious.”
What he said in the car was absolutely true. I’m such a novice. To think I could satisfy a man like Ayden Stone? What was I thinking?
“How can you expect me to sacrifice all I am to be with you then go out and rule the fucking world? I can’t do it.”
My knees are throbbing and there’s a cramping sensation in my toes, but I’m not moving. I daren’t. “Is this what you wanted all along, to dominate me, to demean me, to hurt me?” I can’t hold back the tide of tears that has been threatening to burst from my woeful eyes; they cascade down my cheeks like a melting glacier.
He pulls me to him. “Oh Beth, It’s not like that. I love you so much. I want to give you everything, I always have. I want you to experience everything, with me. Baby, I would never hurt you.”
I sob into his neck. “I’m way out of my depth with you. I don’t know how to play these games.” I try to stand but he keeps a firm grip on my arms, he won’t release me.
“I know you’re hurting, it kills me to think I’m the one inflicting this kind of pain on you, but look at me Beth.”
I struggle to focus.
“This is the face of the man who loves you. I have always loved you, the promise of you; no more so than the moment I saw you in your prim and proper disguise. I knew if I was myself, if I behaved the way I always do, you would rejected me outright, and I couldn’t risk that because I knew, thirty minutes in, you were the one. I would have said and done anything to keep you, and I did.” He looks down shamefully at the carpet.
“I know, I’m a deceitful bastard who has to win, but it’s never been about the winning with you, not really. It’s been about not losing, not losing you. I won big time when you said you loved me: you’re the prize Beth. I can’t lose you.” He wipes away my tears with his tie and tips his head, trying to meet my eyes.
“Every day I thank God for you, you’ve taught me so much about myself, but I can’t keep up the pretence any longer. I just can’t.” He lifts up my face and I sense he is preparing to say the words that will end this heart-to-heart. “I need to know how far you are prepared to go to make this relationship work.”
Even though I’m still tearful, I can speak. “I don’t think I get to decide do I? It’s all about you. It’s about your needs, your expectations.”
“No, that’s not true. It’s not in my nature to please, but I want nothing more than to please you – not only in the bedroom but in everything; now, tomorrow and every day after that. But Beth, I have to know you feel the same about me or … or I’m fucked!” He pauses to take an invigorating breath. “The question is whether you want to please me?”
And there it is, the truth is out. It hits me like a bolt out of the blue. That one salient question, that’s what this is really about: a promise, submission, trust. I ask myself, do I want to please you?
He’s searching my face for clues, but I give nothing away. I begin to speak but stop before a single utterance can be heard and reconsider, while he strokes my hair with so much adoration I feel he may weep.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours? This time you have to tell me.”
I wipe my e
yes, inhale deeply and, speaking slowly, prepare to put the world to rights. “I want to please you too, Ayden. I’ve never wanted anything more.” I manage a confident smile and watch him visibly deflate; he’s been holding his breath for so long, letting it out causes his body to sag like a punctured balloon. He’s so relieved.
With sparkling eyes that glitter and light up the darkness, he announces: “Thank God.”
We wrap our weary arms around each other as if it is our last embrace. When we break apart after several minutes, I reach for his face, feeling the moisture on his skin. “Oh Ayden, what am I going to do with you?”
He nuzzles his tear stained face into the palm of my hand and closes his eyes.
15
After fixing my face, I return to our bedroom, wearing my new, baby doll nightie in white with matching thong. Filled with unease, I enter slowly, sensing a mood change in the room. It’s bathed in the warm glow created by two decorative wall lights above the bed, right and left above Ayden’s head. He’s used the guest bathroom, I can tell; his face has that just scrubbed look and he has a youthful glow. Even the way he smells from across the room is inebriating: this is the man I love.
He glances up from his iPad once, then again, noticing my seductive attire. I have purposely left my hair up, I want to look elegant, refined, untouched.
“Hey! I like the outfit,” he smiles softly.
I feel my breasts responding to his constant gaze; my hardening nipples begin protruding through the silk material. He can’t help but notice.
“Come to bed,” he instructs softly, pulling back the sheets to reveal the right side of his naked body.
How can I refuse? He’s beyond beautiful. Everything about him is virile and intoxicating: his jet black hair is damp and messy, his pectoral muscles keep flexing and moving as if he’s carved out of a flexible material, soft to the touch but as hard as granite. And those eyes, those penetrating sea green eyes, how they set my insides quivering.
I position myself next to him, we’re both sitting upright. I’m preoccupied with the aching sensation between my thighs, so powerful is the sexual pull between us.
He speaks first. “The effect you have on me is unnatural Beth.” He runs the forefinger of is right hand the length of my arm and it’s such an unassuming act, but even this has me squirming around on the velvety soft sheets. Not touching him is actually painful. I close my eyes, lost in my own private thoughts.
Without even facing me, his seduction gets underway. “I’m going to make love to you, because it’s all I’ve been thinking about from the moment you stepped into the car this morning and every morning before that.” He turns my face to his, eyes blazing, chest heaving. “Do you want me?”
“Are you giving me back the power of speech?” I ask, taking in his dreamy visage.
“I’ll give you anything, you know that.” His emasculation is humbling. What kind of dominance is this?
“Then, it’s only fair I should do the same.” I pull his mouth to mine; at first his kiss is soft, exploratory, but there’s a growing urgency. I feel it in his breath, the sounds he makes and in his steel like erection pressing into my hip.
With grasping hands, he fists my hair urging me to respond to his impassioned kisses while his tongue licks and penetrates me: he’s unstoppable.
Using his free hand he lowers me beneath his Herculean body so I can feel the full weight of him flattening me to the mattress. It’s all bump and grind: silk material against hard muscle, nails on bare skin, my saturated flesh up against his hard cock. Every nerve in my body is tingling, every breath a fight for survival. I want him so badly.
In fractured syllables he speaks. “You ... you need a safe word Beth, choose one. Not stop or enough or no. You decide.”
It’s impossible to think with him nibbling my ear and rubbing himself up against me like this. One word comes to mind. “Romeo.”
“What?”
“That’s my safe word, Romeo.” I feel him smiling into my neck.
“Romeo it is.” He leans into my ear. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking hot you’ll never have to say it.” So confident is he in his assertion that I believe him. A smouldering look of pure, unadulterated desire pins me to the bed: I am his for the taking.
From under the pillow he slides out my silver scarf. “I’m going to fasten your hands to the bed frame.”
It’s an erotic threat that has me writhing in anticipation beneath him.
“ … I’m going to lick every inch of you until you come. And then slide inside you.” He leans over me, our noses are almost touching. “Do you understand?”
I can barely speak, I’m so needy. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good girl.”
With eyes that have morphed into his signature colour, he reaches above my head and ties my hands to the bedframe to create a wide V shape, all the time pressing his steely cock into my thighs and then my stomach. It’s more than I can take. I’ll willingly submit to anything this man wants: my body is his.
“Now I have you where I want you, let’s begin your first lesson.” He eases off me and slides down the bed, leaving my stomach and panties exposed below my crumpled nightie.
I try to lie still, but it’s impossible. Catching sight of his predatory stare does something to me, I can’t look away. He’s slips his hands underneath my arms, why?
“Let’s sit you up so you can see how I’m pleasuring you.”
What?
He raises me up until I’m almost sitting upright; two fluffy pillows are stacked behind my head. He slides off the bed, reaches for the iPod remote and music starts to play. I know the song, I recognise the guitar intro, he’s found it on my collection of 80’s hits. It’s Lullaby by the Cure. What a strange choice?
It isn’t until he begins his performance that I realise: it’s a stroke of genius. With every beat, he crawls onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs, running his hands up my shins, across my knees and along my thighs. His eyes never leave mine.
The beat picks up, he’s licking his lips and my already breathless body is starting to quiver, longing for the touch of his lips on mine. As the Spiderman comes, so does he, climbing my torso like a prowling cat. I forget about the scarf, and it isn’t until I try to touch him I am reminded I’m being restrained. But, my beautiful Ayden is so engaging, and so stunningly gorgeous in this primal state that I’m happy to forget.
I watch him lift my nightie higher with his teeth and have to accept this spiderman is having me for dinner tonight. I can’t contain a gasp. This is beyond erotic. He follows through with his hands, causing me to arch my back slightly, wanting, needing more.
As he covers my mouth with his, he begins to tear away the front of my nighty with both hands.
Oh my God!
Every one of my senses is being stimulated: taste, touch, smell, sight and now the sound of my nightie being ripped off me. As he reveals my navel, my rib cage and then my breasts, he blows softly and every hair on my body stands to attention.
“We don’t need this do we?” With his powerful hands he tears the front of my nighty in half, revealing my bare breasts and hardening flesh.
Oh Christ!
I have to look away, this is too much.
“Look at me Beth.”
And I do.
“Your breasts are perfect. These hands are made to fit every part of your body. See.”
I look down and watch him fondle, squeeze and suckle on my breasts. I almost convulse and tug again on my restraint but I’m not really trying to free myself, it just looks that way.
“Stop Ayden. This is too much,” I plead. He doesn’t stop. I keep watching. Inside, muscles are clinching, my clitoris is throbbing, begging to be stroked. “Stop.” I can’t take any more. Giving in to the sensation is my only option.
Is this what it’s like to be dominated?
The music fades and, as far as he’s concern
ed, it’s mission accomplished. He has me well and truly saturated from head to toe and in all those aching places in between.
With blazing eyes that cause my insides to incinerate, he presses into me. “Are you ready to submit?” He whispers softly, allowing his tongue to linger on the soft, sensitive skin beneath my ear.
“Yes. God yes.” I answer finding it hard to speak, overwhelmed by an aching desire to feel him inside me.
He takes hold of the clip fastening my hair and snaps it open, dragging his fingers through the ringlets so they frame my face and tumble around my shoulders.
“You’ve grown into a beautiful woman Beth. You’re home to me: I have to be inside you.”
Yes, yes …
He moulds his mouth over mine and kisses me so passionately I think I might faint: there’s no escaping that seductive tongue.
“Give yourself to me Beth,” he urges, descending my body, not waiting for a reply. My flexing hips and groans of pleasure are reply enough. I watch him as he advances southwards and I hear myself panting: it’s the most erotic moment of my life.
“I’m going to use my hands on you until you come. Watch me!”
Watch you!
With that, his right hand slides between my abdomen and my panties and it keeps going until two fingers are buried inside me. We both gasp.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” The in, out movements have me lifting and writhing, making me squeeze my thighs against the palm of his left hand as he struggles to keep me still.
“I said I was going to kiss you all over and I will, but you have to come for me first. Can you do that?”
I try to close my mouth to speak but can only manage a nod.
“Say it.”
I groan much too loudly. “Yes … yes.”
“Good.” He seeks out my clitoris with his thumb and an involuntary whimper leave my lips.
“I can feel you flexing inside, squeeze me.”
I do.
“Again.”
I do.
“Again.”
I do, until I’m at the point where I have to come against his fingers, but he stills ... bringing me back from the edge of orgasm.
Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play Page 33
