by Vera Roberts
I hoped this time around was more pleasurable than last night but I also didn’t want to go through that ever again. “I’m nervous,” I admitted, “last night was quite painful.”
He nodded. “I know but the more you do it, the easier it’ll become,” he smiled at me, “we need you to become more comfortable with your body and everything it can do. I’m sure you know it pretty well already with practice.”
“Practice?” My eyes narrowed at him. I hope he doesn’t mean if I…? “Playing with myself?”
Ian simply blinked at me as if I asked a question with an obvious answer. “Yes.” He read my face to look for confirmation but all he received was confusion. “You’ve never masturbated?”
“No, never.” I admitted. I don’t know why the thought makes me ashamed. I’m sure there are a lot of women who’ve never masturbate at all and they have happy sex lives. I’m also pretty sure the same people still use VCRs.
“You should. You’ll get to know your body very well.” Ian replied. “You’ll find out what you like and don’t.”
The thought of fingering myself didn’t sound appeasing to me. Nor did sticking some foreign apparatus in me. “Okay.”
I felt Ian’s glare as I became lost into my thoughts. He wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t do the homework he’d assigned. The look on his face was hard to read. He was either frustrated or…determined.
“Come inside.” He got up and went back to his bedroom, only to reappear a short time later. I followed him inside and stayed put in the living room. He had some large device in his hand I would later discover was the Hitachi. “Come here and take off your jeans,” he ordered me.
I did just that and walked up to Ian. He hoisted me up on the counter. He reached up and pulled down my panties, tossing them aside. His eyes had a devilish twinkle in them as if he knew he was up to no good and wanted me to come along for the ride. Somehow, I didn’t think I would mind riding shotgun (his).
He kissed me, sweeping his lips across mine before he softly played with my tongue. “Spread your legs,” he commanded and I complied. “Look at me.”
I held his gaze. His blue eyes were intense, his nostrils were slightly flared, and an erotic current flowed between us. I had a feeling he didn’t want me to look anywhere else and I wasn’t about to disobey him. It was so hot.
He turned on the Hitachi and placed it on my sex and I immediately yelped. “Take it,” he softly spoke. “Keep your eyes open and focused on mine.”
I nodded and bit my lip as the pleasure coursed through my body. He dragged the vibrator against my opening and held it there. It was intense. It was wild. It was everything.
He turned the vibrator onto a higher speed and I moaned, calling out his name as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I obeyed him; I didn’t remove my eyes from his. I felt every emotion and energy exchange between us like never before. He took me to a higher plane, to something unknown and erotic.
My sex fluttered on the first taste of climax. “Ian…” My voice came out light and wispy. “I’m about to come.”
“I know,” his authoritative voice drove me wild with lust, “I want to see how many times you’re going to.” He increased the speed again and I shrieked with a muffled cry as the orgasm washed over my body. “Good. That’s one.”
His lips crushed mine as he closed the distance between us. My sex thumped against the Hitachi and I squirmed on his counter. His lips trailed down to my neck and gently sucked on it while my arms wrapped around his neck. “Ian…Ian…” My legs uncontrollably shook and it felt like I had no control of anything anymore.
It was part of Ian’s game. He wanted to be in absolute control, a silent power exchange that only needed to be understood and not spoken aloud. I couldn’t get enough of it.
“Seeing you come is so beautiful,” Ian moaned against my ear, “you don’t know what it does to me to see you in such pleasure created by me.”
Coherent sentences simply couldn’t come out of me. I felt the heat rise in my belly. I trembled, heavily breathed, and squirmed on the counter. I was actually trying not to come again but my body betrayed me.
The orgasm ripped through my body like a current and this time I screamed out Ian’s name. Sweat formed on my body and my legs finally stopped buckling. It was so good and we were finally done.
That’s what I thought until I felt Ian turned the vibrator onto the highest setting. Apparently, we weren’t done. Not by a long shot.
“I don’t think I can come anymore,” I breathed against him.
“Yes, you can and you will.” He growled against my ear. “I want to see you fall apart against me.”
Moans and grunts came out of my mouth in all forms of pitches and registers. I couldn’t even recognize the raspy, breathy, and desperate moans came out of me. Who was this person? Where did she come from?
Ian’s free hand squeezed my breasts, tweaking the nipples while the other hand steadily remained on the Hitachi. My sex moved in tandem of the vibrator, wanting more of it.
“I thought you said you didn’t like toys?” Ian teased me. Damn him.
“I…I…” The words could barely come out of my mouth. “I like…th-th-this one…”
I felt powerless as I repeatedly begged him, crying out his name. I never knew such pleasure from a simple toy, yet it was beyond my wildest dreams. It was a conundrum of sorts – I wanted the torture to end but I never wanted it stop at all.
On Ian’s kitchen counter, with his windows open, his neighbors heard me climax for the third time that morning.
I wrapped my arms around his neck so hard, I put him in a headlock. I shrieked and cried as the third orgasm crashed into my body like a giant wave. I was dizzy, breathless, and completely incoherent and bumbling. I’m sure I also drooled over Ian’s expensive shirt.
He picked me up and carried me back to bed and laid down next to me. He snuggled next to me as my head rested on his chest. I felt the soft thump of his heartbeat while his fingers threaded through my curls as sleep found me.
Ian was my everything. And I was his.
Eight
The Saturday benefit came and it was already different. Instead of getting ready at my apartment, I got ready in the spare closet at Ian’s penthouse.
My glam squad came through like the champs they are and I looked like royalty. My curly locks were dressed up in a loose, messy bun and my face was once again beat to the gods. I was dressed in a Pamella Roland blue sequined gown that was a bit see-through at the bottom. I immediately felt a little self-conscious about the gown. Before I wouldn’t have cared because I was only Ian’s assistant.
Being Ian’s love put me in a different category of expectation.
Tonight was going to be the night where I would make my debut as his girlfriend. Every person he would introduce me to will know that. I was terrified but a little excited at the same time. I wonder if Ian as a boyfriend in public would be any different than he was before?
We could only wait and see.
“This is the first time you got ready here,” the MUA, Mario, commented. He was a short Latino male with a face better beat than mine, “I’m assuming things have progressed between you and Ian.”
The same people have been getting me ready for the past two years and it was always at my apartment. It was the first time I got ready at Ian’s home and everyone knew the change. It was rare Ian invited anyone who wasn’t family to his home and even family didn’t make many appearances. I can honestly say the other night was the only time I was over here other than our first introduction. “We’re together now.”
“About damn time,” My hairstylist, Shelly, muttered. She was a woman with pale skin and colorful tats all over her arms. “You two are the biggest definition of blue balls.”
“Shelly!” The fashion stylist, Joy, replied. She was a black woman with jet-black hair and a voice so soft, it was practically a whisper. “You know how Ian is.”
“I know how Ian is,” Shelly replied, “and I
know he doesn’t just do this for any woman unless she’s super special. I know he started to do something for that artist but canceled everything.”
My heart plummeted to the floor. Sydney.
I should’ve known Ian liked her more than he led on. Hell, he probably loved her for all I knew. I began to wonder if the other night was just him being with me because he couldn’t be with who he originally wanted.
Now I began to regret everything.
“This is different, though,” Mario commented as he worked on putting the fake eyelashes on me. Maybe it’s a good thing my eyes were closed because I was seriously about to start bawling. “He really likes Dominique.” He applied an eyelash and blew on my eye. “Because Lord knows I’m not a cheap bitch.”
I would’ve smiled but Ian bought Sydney a loft. While I’m sure Mario’s price was pretty expensive, it wasn’t comparable to a million-dollar L.A. loft.
I kept silent as my squad finished working on my look. Just when I was excited about our future, I was harshly reminded I was simply getting the “Ian treatment” so many others had received before me. I already didn’t want to go out despite it being our first official outing as a couple.
Why do I constantly set myself up for failure only to be surprised by the results?
~~~~~
We’d arrived at the gala, did the customary meet and greets with other rich people who cared more about being photographed than they did about the cause they were supporting. Ian spent a good portion of his time promoting Sydney and her upcoming art exhibit; slyly working it into every conversation with everyone.
Meanwhile, I calmly sipped champagne and mingled with the equally bored Botox-filled socialites. At least the champagne tasted a lot better. Someone got the message.
We sat down at the table, Ian immediately had to leave to talk business with someone else, and yadda yadda yadda, I don’t care. I nursed the champagne glass in front of me and thought about what Michelle said. Did Ian do everything just to see how long it would take him to get inside my panties? So he could claim his first virgin? Why did I get my hopes up?
“My favorite girl is here!” Emma sat down beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I could tell she was already liquored up and was probably on her third glass.
“Hey Emma,” I plastered a smile on my face, “what’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that sour-ass pout on your face,” she pointed out to me. She looked around to make sure no one could listen in our conversation before she continued, “spill it.”
“Sydney,” I mentioned.
“Sydney, Sydney, Sydney…” Emma shook her head. “Who?”
“Ian’s muse.” I told Emma, “One of my glam squad members told me he was planning on parading Sydney around like this before we hooked up and –”
“You two finally did it?” Emma gasped with wide eyes.
“Yes, and shh!” I looked around. I didn’t want TMZ to make me an overnight celebrity. “Now I regret it.”
“Regret it?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I should’ve paid more attention how Ian treated women he loves. If I had, I would’ve never given him the time of day,” I shook my head, “it was clear he was in love with Sydney.”
“In love?” Emma scrunched her nose. “I’ve known Ian for a very long time. I wouldn’t call what he did as being in love.”
“He bought her a million-dollar loft!” I countered. “When a man buys a woman property, he loves her.”
“Maybe other men do that,” Emma shook her head, “not Ian. He’s in love with what Sydney represents for him and the Ferguson dynasty, not necessarily any personal feelings. Trust me when I say he’s more in love with her art than with her.”
Maybe Emma had a point. Ian was still the owner of the loft until he transferred the property to Sydney’s fiancée. I get the feeling if Ian wanted Sydney, he would’ve kicked her out of the place already when things didn’t work out.
Still, the thought didn’t sit well with me. Ian had spent a lot of money on me, don’t get me wrong. But there’s a big-ass difference between a few thousand and a few million. “I don’t think he’s even spent that much on me, period!”
“Au contraire,” Emma shook her head, “Ian’s spent way more money on you than her. Way more.”
I think Emma is bullshitting me but a part of me wants to believe her. “You have a price tag for such claims?”
Emma daintily wiped her mouth and leaned towards me. “All of the jewelry you own, Domi, are worth millions. The Lorraine Schwartz jewelry you’re wearing right now? It’s two million dollars.”
I almost dropped my champagne glass but managed to catch it in time. My mouth hung lower than a rapper’s chain and I struggled to form a coherent sentence, well, just like the same rapper. I naturally touched the diamond necklace and the matching teardrop earrings dangling from my ears. “On loan, right?”
Emma shot me a, ‘bitch, please’ look and shook her head. “The Fergusons don’t rent when they can buy.”
I suddenly felt super out of place. Ian taking me to all of these galas started to make sense. He was preparing me for the future, possibly ours. The room suddenly became smaller and I felt suffocated.
I was used to shopping at the mall, getting take out from some Mom and Pop’s joint that was so hidden, you would probably miss it twice even though you’re staring right at it, and settling it with a long marathon night of Netflix and lonely feelings.
Now, I’m going to go from Payless Shoe Source in the mall to Manolos on Park Avenue. Hell, I’ll still shop at Payless. They have some great shoes there!
“Domi,” Emma stared at my face, trying to see if she needed to call over another waiter for a round of drinks. She did anyway. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I finally smiled. “I’m still getting used to everything with Ian. I think it’s going to take some time.”
“Some advice if I may?” She asked and I nodded. “Don’t. Just when you think you know him and what he’s about, he’ll surprise you.”
I took Emma’s advice to heart. Ian had surprised me several times all over. Maybe I just need to stop trying to figure him out.
~~~~~
“Are you feeling better?”
Ian’s accent jolted me out of my thoughts as the driver took us back to his home. We barely spoke at the gala because Ian was too busy hobnobbing with others and I kept myself entertained with Emma.
I knew he meant if I felt better towards him. I know he felt the coolness emitting from me earlier and he was patient enough to leave me alone in my thoughts. “Yeah, I am.”
“Good, good.” He rested his hand on my thigh and gave it a light squeeze. He turned to me and turned my face towards his, pulling my body closer to him. I guess he also didn’t like the wall-like distance between us in the small space.
He once again put his hand in the familiar resting space, at the small of my back. His fingers splayed over my behind and he lightly tapped it. “You’re the only woman for me, Domi.”
I slightly smiled. There aren’t many secrets between the Fergusons. “Emma spoke to you?”
“Sydney is just my muse and nothing more.” He hesitated, wondering if he should reveal everything or keep much of it private and vague. It’s not like I need or want to know details. “I’ll be traveling with her this upcoming year to promote her, but that’s it. We have a lot of love for art in common. I respect her and Dean. They’re about to get married very soon.”
“They are?” I was truly happy for them. I was also very thankful it meant Sydney was no longer a threat.
“Next week, to be exact, at their home. I’m catering the affair and I want you to come with me as my guest.” His fingers splayed across my gown. “I also want you to be present with me when Sydney does the performance art piece.”
The idea was to watch Sydney and Dean have sex while A-list director, Bobby Whalen, filmed it. It sounds pornographic – and it is – but was going to b
e artistic and not vulgar. I’ve never even seen porno and I’m about to watch it perform in front of me.
What a world I’m in.
I suddenly felt a weird tension emitting from Ian. Was he not happy Sydney was about to get married? Did he have sudden regrets about us? Why do I always think the worst? Damn, I even annoy myself. I looked up at him and found him smiling back at me. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He swept his lips across mine and I felt a heat rise within me. I don’t think I could ever get used to how meticulous and deliberate his lips are. They were soft and wet, so tender and full. The same lips that kissed me all over the other night and pleasured me until I couldn’t take it anymore.
