Unexpected Protector (Isthmus Alliance)

by Sloan Johnson

  The sun blinds me as it reflects off the snow blanketing the backyard. With no neighbors behind him and the bedroom being on the second floor, Tommy decided to remove the room-darkening blinds from his bedroom windows as soon as he quit his job. While I agree that the sun streaming through the windows is amazing most mornings, last night was yet another in a long line of late nights. I have nowhere to be today and it would have been nice to sleep in.

  “Get up, sleepyhead,” Tommy laughs as he exits the master bath. I can’t help but stare at him, thinking about what I would give right about now to lick every rivulet of water off his bare chest. I want to lunge out of bed and give the towel that’s draped low across his hips a sharp tug before dropping to my knees so I can feel the head of his cock tapping against the back of my throat.

  The first night we were together was so sweet and tender it brought me to tears. Even when I’ve had vanilla sex in the past, it’s been rough, fast and devoid of emotion. It’s going to take some getting used to having a considerate lover in the bed with me.

  The next morning, I caught my first glimpse of the Tommy I imagined, the dichotomy of Dominant yet gentle, demanding yet considerate. And, above all, I learned he’s a wonderful blend of cocky, intelligent and playful.

  “Did you have fun last night?” he asks me as we lay curled together under the quilt. He’s obviously unconcerned by the sight of handmade quilt will impact the otherwise masculine vibe of the room.

  “Mmmm,” I mumble. There truly are no words for how I’m feeling, and even if there were, this isn’t the time for them. I burrow deeper against his chest, reveling in the security of his body against mine.

  “Do you still think you’re unworthy?” Why does he have to go and ruin a perfectly good morning by talking? Seriously, there will be plenty of time for this later. He could have given me one morning to bask in the afterglow.

  “Not really,” I reply, not wanting to dig too deep within my own psyche. At this moment, I don’t feel undeserving because I’m too busy contemplating how to get a repeat performance this morning. Preferably, one that will last the rest of the day.

  “Not really? Well, then I guess I’m going to have to fuck the doubt out of you.” It’s not often that I hear the deep, level voice he takes on when stating a fact that’s not open for debate. I find myself wondering if that’s the voice that he uses with his subs and it causes a pulsating within my core that only he can ease.

  I roll on top of him, placing myself in a position of perceived power that I have no doubt won’t last long. “And tell me, how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

  I reach behind my ass, gripping his balls firmly in my hand. His eyes roll back as he groans in approval of my plans for the morning. Satisfied that I’m getting my way and in control of the situation, I start stroking his shaft, every stroke longer than the one before as he grows hard against my palm.

  Tommy’s hands squeeze my hips causing a delicious combination of pain and pleasure. “Are you being a brat this morning? Trying to take control of the situation?”

  I swing my leg back off his so I’m no longer on top of him. My plan to reposition myself so I can suck him until he comes is foiled when he pins me to the bed. “One of these days, I’m going to stop going easy on you. You’re going to be fun to break!”

  “Something amusing you, Holly?” He stands next to the bed, his hands resting on his hips, drawing attention to how easy it would be to have him naked. It doesn’t matter that all it would take is one quick yank; I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve given him the lead when it comes to anything sexual and I’m content with that for the time being.

  “Nothing at all,” I lie. No matter how hard I try, there’s no way I can wipe the smile off my face.

  Quicker than I can react, Tommy is on top of me and my arms are pinned above my head. “I don’t believe you,” he says firmly. Still restraining me, he bends down, taking my mouth with his, stoking the fire building within me.

  As much as it pains me, I have to put a stop to this. I know how I want things to go down today and I can’t go there without talking to Holly. In an ideal world, we’d be talking about this while both of us are fully dressed and not in the bedroom.

  I lean down, kissing her again before dragging myself off the bed. “Get up, Buttercup,” I laugh as she groans in protest. When I reach for the quilt, she pulls it over her head, holding onto it as if her life depended on it.

  “You’re an evil man, Tommy,” she whines. The top of her head peeks out from beneath the covers. “I really think I hate you right now.”

  “So you say. Get dressed and meet me downstairs.” I have to remove us from this situation before things get out of control.

  Other than Zeke’s Christmas party, we have nothing to do this weekend and I can’t think of a better way to spend it than with Holly, naked and blindfolded as I push her to the edge of her limits. We’ve talked casually about Domination and submission and she seems to be more open to exploring her submissive side. I’m honored that I’m the one she is choosing to share that with.

  By the time she gets out of the shower and downstairs, I am just finishing breakfast. If things go the way I hope they will, we’re both going to need the energy.

  As she walks into the kitchen, I sit and stare. It’s been two months since the incident and I’m amazed at her progress. Her shoulders no longer slouch forward with insecurity. She moves through the house as if it’s her home. This morning, she’s humming as she enters the room.

  “So let me get this straight,” she says in her most authoritative voice, crossing her arms over her chest. I wish she hadn’t done that; now all I can think of is her perfect tits and how great they look pushed high and together like that. And how much better they would look if they weren’t covered by her thin tank top. “You had me in your bed, you were naked, and you thought breakfast was more important?”

  I cross the room to her, stopping when our bodies are almost touching. I stare down into her doe eyes looking up at me. Before speaking, I take in the life I see in them that hasn’t always been there. “When you put it like that, it sounds bad.” I draw her body close to mine, feeling her heart beating against my chest, her toned stomach pressed against the semi-erect cock beneath my sweatpants.

  “Well, it kind of is,” she laughs. “After this past week, I didn’t take you for the type of man to turn down a naked body when it’s in your bed, ready and waiting for you.”

  I’m not sure how to take that statement. I know what she’s saying because this week has been the hottest of my life. It’s been like there’s a new, unwritten rule in the house that says we must be naked if we’re both home. But something about the way she phrased her response curls my toes. I’ve never been the type of man who will bed any willing woman. In fact, even during play, I’m very particular about where the limits are set because intercourse is something I associate with a depth of emotion that not everyone achieves.

  Limits, right. As I ponder her words, I remember this is what the morning is all about. I turn her around, leading her to the breakfast bar without letting go of her body. I know we look ridiculous, me trying to shorten my steps to accommodate her smaller frame, but I don’t care. No one is here but the two of us, and even if we were in a room full of people, I would willingly look like a fool knowing that it’s worth it to make her happy.

  Once our plates are full and we’re both settled in, I decide that it’s time to get talking because the real fun won’t happen until that’s done.

  “What are your limits, Holly?” No sense in beating around the bush. She chokes on her coffee, sending a spray across the granite counter top.

  “Do you always bring up things like this with a woman before she’s fully awake?” she asks once she catches her breath.

  “No, I have to admit this isn’t usually the type of thing I talk about over a meal at all.”

  “Wow, I guess I should feel special,” she says sarcastically. I narrow my eyes, issuing h
er a silent warning. I know, without a doubt, that her mouth is going to get her in trouble. I’m also certain that we’ll have more fun because of that pretty little mouth of hers.

  “You should, but not because of that. So, are you going to answer the question or do I need to beat it out of you?”

  I’ve had a lot of “interesting” conversations over breakfast. Most of them were in the middle of the night after hours of partying, and none of them have left me speechless the way this one has. It’s not even nine o’clock on a Saturday morning, the sun is pelting us through the French doors and we’re both painfully sober. It would be so much easier to talk about this if I wasn’t.

  Making it harder is the fact that, until Tommy, I had managed to avoid even considering the fact that I might be submissive. I wouldn’t believe it now, but the more I poke around online, the more I realize he’s right. Every link I click to a journal entry talking about submission makes me crave his Dominant touch. Every picture I study causes me to think about what it would be like to be put in those positions or situations.

  Even with all of that, I am having a difficult time putting what I want and what I am completely opposed to into words. I look at Tommy and see his seductive eyes imploring me to come up with an answer. I dig deep, trying to think of things that, without a doubt, I would never try.

  “Blood play. There will also be no golden showers, no shit, nothing disgusting like that.” I expect him to laugh because I can’t imagine he’s into any of those things either, but his face remains expressionless. Honestly, those are all things I can’t see how anyone is into, but hey, to each his own. “Oh, and fisting. I don’t care if you want to see how many fingers you can shove inside of me, I’m actually looking forward to that. But if you think there’s any way you’re going to ram your arm, or even your hand inside my cooch, you’re fucking insane.”

  “Okay, that’s a start. What else?” He rests his ankle atop his opposite knee and I begin to feel as though we’re in the middle of a business meeting.

  “Pain. I’m not a pain slut.” Administering pain is one thing, but I don’t think I could receive pain, especially from someone I’m starting to feel an emotional connection to.

  “Interesting,” he says, reaching to refill his coffee. He stares out the kitchen window, not saying anything else and that makes me nervous. Have I just said the one thing that’s going to stop this before it even starts?

  “Is that it?” he asks me, reaching over to clear my dishes. How is he able to talk about this as if it’s nothing major?

  “Animals. I’m sorry, but there will be no bestiality anywhere near me. I’m strictly a human on human type of girl. Other than that, I can’t think of anything right now, but I would like to reserve the right to add things to my list as I learn more,” I add, not wanting to find myself locked into this short list of limits. I’m sure there is much I haven’t even discovered yet and not all of it is going to turn my insides to goo.

  “Of course,” he says calmly. “I will never make you do something you truly don’t want to do. I will push you, I will try to introduce you to things you may not have tried before, but that’s it. Do you trust me?”

  That might just be the dumbest question of the day. Of course I trust him. If I didn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t be living here with him. Actually, no, I’ve lived with plenty of people I didn’t trust, but that was a different time in my life, a time I plan to never revisit.

  “Yes, Tommy, I do.”

  He slides his stool closer to mine, bracing my face in his hands before he leans in to kiss me. His touch is filled with passion and reverence. Every time we’re together, I feel the connection between us, but as his teeth gently nip at my lip, I feel something more. Whatever is happening between us, I have no doubt neither of us will ever be the same after it ends. But for now, I’m going to enjoy what’s being offered to me.

  “I’m glad to hear that, Babygirl,” he sighs. Unless I’m mistaken, it seems as if he was genuinely worried about my answer. “Now, are there things you’d like to try?”

  If his first question was hard, this one seems impossible to answer. How do you admit to someone that now that you’ve opened your mind to the idea, you want him to tie you up and spank you? Or that you love it when he takes away your sight because it puts you into a state of pure ecstasy?

  I feel my cheeks flush as I formulate my answer. That’s not the only part of my body heating as we sit close enough that our knees are touching. He cocks his head to the side. “Well?”

  “Spanking,” I say, my voice barely audible.

  “What was that? You need to speak up.”

  “I want you to spank me,” I whisper a little bit louder. I don’t recognize my strained voice.

  “Spanking how? You said you weren’t into pain, but now you’re saying you want me to spank you. Do you mean lightly, teasing you as I run my fingers through your pussy. Or are you willing to let me push you to your limit, spanking you hard with my bare hand or possibly a belt, thrusting my fingers into your throbbing core until you come so hard your juices are dripping down your thighs?”

  Hearing him list the different ways he could turn my ass red brings my body to life. I feel myself growing wetter with every suggestion, not wanting but needing to feel the sensations he describes.

  “I want that,” I admit meekly. As I sit next to him, our bodies barely touching, I resist the urge to climb into his lap, pushing fabric to the side and taking what I need at this moment. “I need you to show me that pain can be pleasure.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks sincerely. “I can respect the fact that you said you don’t want pain. I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy inflicting it to an extent, but if that’s not something you crave, it won’t be fun for either of us.”

  I look him in the eye, wanting him to see and feel the sincerity of my words. “You might be the only man I have ever trusted enough to explore that with.”

  He wraps his arms around me, nearly pulling me off my stool. “I’m honored that you feel that way, Babygirl. What else?” He urges me to continue. I shift in my seat, feeling a damp spot forming in my panties. If the thought of him doing these things to me affects me so deeply, I’m going to be slipping over myself when he’s actually touching my body.

  “I want you to tie me to the bed.” I can’t look at him as I go through my list of desires. “I want to try things like floggers and crops. I don’t know if I’ll like them, but I would like to try.”

  “Okay, that’s good. Anything else?” The way he commends me for speaking my mind warms my heart in a way I can’t explain. The part that really scares the shit out of me is I’m scared there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to elicit that reaction from him.

  “Um, I think that’s it. I need you to go slowly with me, Tommy.” Yes, I’ve seen a lot of more hardcore BDSM, but in this position, I feel completely new and inexperienced. I hope Tommy understands this and is willing to start at the beginning and build up to more.

  “Always,” he promises me. He lifts me off my stool into his arms. My feet are off the ground, my eyes meeting his. “I really like you, Holly. I think what we have could be fanfuckingtastic, but you have to promise to always talk to me about what you’re feeling.”

  I nod, my throat constricted by the emotion I’m not used to feeling.

  “Good girl,” he whispers in my ear before drawing the lobe into his mouth, sucking and nipping it. He continues working his way down my neck, biting my collarbone harder than I’m used to. I jerk in surprise, but not in pain.

  “Don’t stop,” I beg him. My mind doesn’t seem to process the fact that he’s on the wrong end of my body to make my core clench tight. I never knew before now that it’s possible to be driven to climax without any direct contact with either my nipples or pussy. I scream his name as my head falls back, eventually allowing my head to come back to rest on his shoulder.

  “Such a responsive girl,” he praises me as he holds me close to him.

 
“What about you?” I ask when my breathing returns to normal.

  “What about me, Babygirl?” He tilts my head the opposite direction, giving the other side of my neck the same erotic attention.