by Sienna Blake
“Maybe this isn’t enough for you anymore? Maybe we should–”
“Don’t say it.” I reach for his face. “It’s enough. I just… I’m sorry, forget I said anything.”
I can’t stand the thought of losing him. It would be like cutting off oxygen to my lungs. He is my air. I need to keep breathing. I don’t want to have to try to find a way to live without him.
I search his face. He still looks weary and uncertain. I step back out of his reach and his hands fall off my hips. Only then does he look up to me. I reach behind me and find the zipper at the top of my dress. I draw it down and let the silk fall off my shoulders and skim over my hips to the floor. I can see a flinch in his features like he is about to tell me to stop trying to cover up our problems. Quickly I unclip my bra and pull it from my body. His eyes widen in surprise. I have never taken the initiative to undress myself.
“How about… every time I want to touch you, I touch myself instead?” I keep my eyes on him as I run my hands across my stomach and up to cup my breasts. I pretend they are his hands. I brush the tips of my fingers across my nipples and the sensation makes my lips part to draw in a breath. His mouth parts as he watches me. I notice the creases in his forehead starting to soften.
I drop one hand down my stomach, slip it inside my panties and touch myself between my legs. This time I moan.
“Take them off. I want to see what you’re doing.”
I draw in a breath and my body trembles with a flush of nerves. Do I dare be so bold in front of him? I peel my underwear down off my body and step out of them. I stand back up slowly, legs pressed together to stop them from shaking, my gaze cast to the floor. My hand slides up my thigh to touch the spot just above where I am all wet.
“Open your legs.”
My breath hitches, but I do as he says, taking two small steps out to the side.
“Wider.”
I swallow. My eyes flicker closed because I feel braver in the dark. It’s in the dark that I’m taken to when I’m blinded and stripped for my Caden. I feel stronger. So I step out wider as I imagine Caden’s knees knocking my legs apart. I let my fingers slide right down between my legs, spreading my slickness all over me.
I hear him hum in approval from the bed, and knowing this is turning him on spurs me on further. In my mind and in this darkness, it’s his hands on me. My breathing becomes heavy as he teases me, rubbing me just the way I like it. His other hand brushes across my breasts. I moan as he dips a finger into me. God, it feels so good, but I need more. He slips in another finger and starts to move them inside me, grinding the heel of his palm against me.
“Look at me.”
I swallow, then let my eyelids open. He is watching me with hooded eyes from the bed. Suddenly they aren’t his hands on me but my own. He isn’t the one fucking me with his fingers, I am. I feel a flush of heat in my cheeks. Before I can withdraw my hands he growls. “Don’t stop. That looks so fucking amazing.”
I close my eyes and start to–
“Keep them open.”
I force my eyes open. He’s leaning back on the bed on his hands watching me, his tongue languidly licking around his mouth, his excitement evident in the strain of his pants. I can barely look at him as I start to move against myself again.
He groans and it sends a rush through me. I move with more confidence as the flush of shame is slowly replaced by a wave of pressure. I start to roll my hips from side to side as if I am dancing. I meet his gaze and the intensity shakes me to my core.
Soon, I am rocking my hips forward against my hand and the noises coming out of my throat are unrestrained. Caden’s eyes – and the heat and the fire in them – are almost all I can see. My legs are trembling as I climb to this peak and I’m almost… almost…
“Yes.”
His soft demand pushes me over the edge. My insides shatter and I am liquid stars. Unable to support myself anymore, I start to fall like dust and ash returning to the ground. But I don’t land. I smell wood smoke and home as he cradles me in his arms. I feel myself floating and floating. Then the softness of the mattress underneath me. The bed shifts as Caden lays himself around me and pulls me back into him as the feeling returns to my limbs.
I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are jade with lust and I can see he is itching to run his hands over me. He doesn’t yet. He waits. The only remnant of our argument is a small pinch at his brows.
Now I’m too aware of my curiosity about Caden. This feeling has grown so big that it barely fits the box I’ve built to contain it. It takes a great force to push it shut and click the latch. A sense of dread waves through me. It’s only a matter of when – not if – the latch will spring.
When – but not now. For now, it’s contained. What Caden and I have is enough.
I lift my arms above my head in an offering of submission.
In the darkness behind my blindfold, I hear Caden speak. “Where should I start?”
I am laid out naked with my wrists tied to the headboard. I arc my back and shove my breasts out towards him. There, please?
Instead he chuckles. “Patience.”
This man is good at testing my patience. I contemplate tearing at my bonds. They are just silky ties after all. Surely I could rip through them if I were strong enough.
He closes his teeth around the flesh of my upper arm, just enough until it is almost too much. I cry out and he releases me. Where his teeth leave a dull ghost of pain he brushes something which feels like soft velvet, causing a crackling of sensation to run along my skin. It’s so light it’s almost painful. What is it?
I feel a light slap on my inner thigh, then the softness again. More crackles under my skin. My body continues to heat as he places curt slaps and bites across my body, down my arms and my legs and along my side, and follows each one up with a stroke of this soft thing, each caress growing longer and longer. The sensation is so soft and yet it sears me. My body reacts against it by clenching tightly.
It’s only when it kisses along my jaw and I smell the distinct floral scent that I know that it’s,
“A rose,” I gasp.
“Yes. It’s open and pink and soft. Just like you.”
He licks across my nipple. The cold air against it makes it pinch into a bud. Then he bites it hard. I moan under my breath. Finally the rose trails across my breasts.
I feel the heel of his palm strike my clit in a firm slap. I gasp. Under his hand the dull pain bursts out like a small firework. The rose travels over my hips, which buck involuntarily, then down between my legs. The mixture of pain and searing lightness is so exquisite I could cry.
“Please,” I pant, “again.”
He continues to tease me across my body, my breasts, my clit. Hard and soft, pain and pleasure.
On and on until my head is spinning and I can’t think straight. I need him so badly that I start to whimper. I am tugging on my binds so hard I’m sure I would feel pain around my wrists if I could indeed feel anything above this desperate need for him. I am begging. Crying. At this point I don’t care I just need–
I moan with relief when he shifts on the bed to kneel between my legs. The rose leaves my skin. I hear a soft plucking noise. As he thrusts inside me, petals drift across my body like silken rain.
Hard and soft.
Pleasure and pain.
This is Caden to me. This is what I love.
When our love making is over, I lie under the darkness of the blindfold, my body feeling like warm mist. Every time I am here like this with Caden I feel a strange sense of peace. I’m no longer a broken girl, a lonely soul, a scared runaway. I just… am.
I can hear Caden across the room, putting on clothes as he always does after we finish. I can smell him from here, all man and wood smoke and the musk of sex. It gets stronger as he nears me. I wriggle against the silky sheets for my audience. I can hear his little hum of appreciation as I feel his eyes travel all the way up and down my body.
“I’m tempte
d to keep you here just like this.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
He laughs softly. “My insatiable kitten.”
“Only with you.”
Yes, only with him. He does something to me that no one else does. The scent of his hair and the shape of his arms and the timbre of his voice. Like he was designed just to unlock these parts of me. I may be broken, but I am no longer closed off.
The mattress shifts as he sits by my side. He lifts the blindfold from my eyes. I have to blink and wait a moment before my eyes adjust. I can’t help the smile that rushes across my face. He has wrapped himself tightly in a white bathrobe. He has my favorite look on; all hooded eyes and lopsided grin.
I feel the ties loosen and slip away. He leans against the headboard and pulls me against him so I’m nestled with my back against his chest. His arms wrap around me. Using his thumbs he caresses the marks around my wrists where I pulled against my restraints.
“Cade?”
“Hmmm.”
“What do you eat for breakfast?”
I can feel him chuckling behind me. “Why? You want to cook for me? You know I can’t stay for breakfast.”
“I know. I just…” Will I sound silly? I sigh. “It just feels weird to be so close to you and not even know what you eat for breakfast. I guess I just wanted to know.”
He relaxes behind me. I think he understands. “Oats. Sometimes with fruit. Eggs if I have more time.”
“Do you read the paper?”
“Yes.”
I smile. Any piece of information I get about him makes me smile. It’s like every time I know a little bit more about him, he becomes a little more mine.
We finish our routine. I shower first, alone. Then he does. He takes in his overnight bag with him so that he can dress before he comes back out again. Just as the bathroom door unlocks a small hope blips in me that maybe this time he won’t have dressed yet or maybe he has left his shirt off. Every time, when he steps out fully dressed, my heart sinks.
We settle in to sleep with him behind me, one arm wrapped over me. In the soft dim shaded silver with moonlight filtering through all the open windows, I can’t fall sleep tonight. I stare at the silhouette of the dining table and the small kitchenette. I see myself cooking eggs for Caden at the stove. He would come up behind me and nestle his nose in my hair and whisper good morning. We would sit down together and I would slip the paper by his plate and look at him across our breakfast table. He would smile back at me and reach across for my hand.
Stupid girl. It’s no good for me to wish these things. It’s no good for me to dream. The images dissolve and a sadness falls over me like snow. We aren’t normal people. We aren’t a normal couple. And we will never be.
I’m startled out of my thoughts when Caden’s breathing deepens into the rumble of a light snore. He has fallen asleep before me. He has never fallen asleep before me. He’s a light sleeper and he always seems to wake as well if I ever wake in the night. Suddenly I’m completely aware of him behind me. I can feel his chest pressing at my back with every inhale and his breath moving my hair with every exhale.
I want desperately to know what he looks like when he’s sleeping. I could turn and look at him. Just look at him. Just one look. No harm in looking, right? I wouldn’t be breaking any rules…
I start to turn, slowly, shifting minutely so as not to disturb his arm laying over me then pausing so as not to wake him. I tense up when he shifts. My heart is beating heavily but steadily. He mumbles something. I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. He’s going to wake any minute now. Any minute now.
I hear him mumble again. He seems to settle. He didn’t wake? When I hear his breathing even out again, I count five full excruciatingly slow minutes before I open my eyes and start to move again. Slowly, slowly, he comes into view as I turn to face him.
If it’s possible, he’s even more beautiful when he’s asleep. The hardness of his jaw has softened and his lips fall into a relaxed pout. He looks young and vulnerable. I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. This big loving bear of a man is mine. My Cade. I want to press my lips to his. I want to touch his face. I want to brush the hair from his forehead. But I don’t. Surely it will wake him.
My gaze travels down his thick neck and to his wide chest. I have never laid my hand on his chest but even through this thin dark t-shirt I can see the fullness of his solid muscles. The skin that peaks out from the top of his shirt teases me with the start of dark curls. My fingers flinch out, but I hold them back. I am aching to touch him. But I can’t. I shouldn’t.
Rule number two: He can touch me, but I can’t touch him.
Why the hell not? a voice in me demands. He’s mine, surely I can touch what’s mine.
No. No. Those are the rules. Remember the rules.
I stare at the patch of skin I can see at the top of his shirt. I wonder what the skin there would feel like. Hard yet smooth, I imagine. I can’t tear my eyes from his skin. Do I dare?
Just one touch when he’s asleep. Just one. There’s no harm in that, is there?
I check his face. His eyes are still closed. He sounds like he’s still asleep.
Just one touch. He would never have to know.
I’m barely breathing as I bend my elbow and lift my hand. My movements are torturously slow, a contrast to the rapid increase of my heartbeat. Slow. Controlled. Closer. Closer. I pause an inch away from his chest. Did his breath hitch? My eyes flicker between his face and his chest. No. I don’t think he’s awake. His breathing is steady and he hasn’t moved.
I uncurl my fingers and brush the collar of his shirt, lightly. I thrill with the forbidden contact. But I still haven’t touched him. I reach out further until my fingertips brush at the hair at the base of his neck.
He moves so fast my body jolts. His fingers clamp down on my wrist so tightly I swear it almost breaks. His eyes open before they narrow.
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice pools like blackened liquid in my ears giving me chills.
I gape but nothing comes out of my mouth.
“I said, what the hell are you doing?”
For a moment I can’t speak. My body and my heart are frozen in ice and I’m numb except for where he’s gripping me. Gripping me tighter than he has ever gripped me before. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens.
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper as I fight the urge to cry. He’s hurting me. He means to hurt me.
“You’re hurting me, Jacob.”
“I’m hurting you? You’re fucking hurting me, princess.” He slams his left hand against his chest and it makes a sharp deep thudding noise. “Right here. You’re hurting me right fucking here.”
Caden looks down to my wrist. As if he just realized it, he snatches his hand away. “I didn’t mean to.” The darkness fades from his eyes. It’s replaced with a ghost. The glare he gives me is so unkind it crushes me. “What were you doing?” he asks again. The volume of his voice has lowered, but his words are short and clipped and it pinches at my heart.
“I just wanted to look at you. You look so peaceful when you sleep.”
His eyes narrow even further. He knows I’m lying.
“Turn around.”
I do. He doesn’t throw his arm around me or tuck me into his body like he usually does.
“I thought you understood the rules. I thought I could trust you.” His voice is hard and devoid of warmth. I fight the urge to shiver.
“You can.” Shit. I’m an idiot. Stupid, stupid girl.
“Why would you try to go against me?”
I want to scream at him, “Because this urge to know you grows with every night we spend together. Because I wear this curiosity under my clothes and it’s rough and itches at my skin. Because I burn with unfairness that you can see me and touch me but I can’t see or touch you back.” But I don’t.
“I would never deliberately hurt you. Never. But if you break my rules again… it would have to be over betwe
en us.”
“Over?” My voice shakes. No. Over a stupid rule? That doesn’t even make sense.
“How can I be with you if I no longer trust you?”
I go cold with fear. He can’t leave me. He can’t. I’ll die. The emptiness and loneliness that was there before he came into my life will yawn wide open and swallow me and I’ll starve in this desert of my own making.
“I won’t do it again.” I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that I can keep this curiosity at bay.
“Go to sleep.”
I don’t argue. I lay there terrified. Terrified because I can feel that this need to uncover Caden is growing into something I can’t contain anymore. Even at the risk of losing him forever. Am I sadistic? Am I so messed up that I am trying to sabotage the only happiness in my life?
Strangely enough, the risk of losing him just makes the need to get inside his life that much stronger. The more I know about him, the more I need to know. I can see this vicious cycle tunneling out into my future, turning back upon itself over and over until it disappears into a single point. A single fixation.
I can only pray that the next time I break his rules, I won’t get caught.
4
By morning, like always, Caden is gone. As I wake alone in this Midnight Falls cabin, I am left scrabbling for a ghost and clutching at sheets that have already gone cold. For a moment I wonder if I have dreamed him up, if Caden is only a figment of my imagination. I feel the lovely tenderness between my legs and the slight soreness around my wrists and I know he’s real.
I shut my eyes as the wave of emptiness rushes in. I miss him already. I try to force myself to sleep so I can go a little longer without the sinking, bludgeoning knowledge that he has gone and that I don’t know when I’ll see him again.
Sleep doesn’t come, not when the pillow smells of his hair and the sheets smell like us. The scent of rose petals release into the air around me as I roll over them and crush them. A sharp need tightens my belly as I remember how the roses came to be scattered around the bed last night.
