by Love Belvin
“Oh—Ez-raaa!”
I exploded. That quickly, I was overtaken by a tsunami of sensations, all of my senses heightened with pleasure shooting straight to my groin. My pelvis jack-rabbited on his dick as I rode out my orgasm.
“We have to control them, kitten. They’re far more pleasurable when delayed,” he grunted as he pounded into me. “I promise.”
My feet were lifted from the floor and Ezra carried me effortlessly on the bed, arranging my legs over his broad shoulders and plunged into me. All of my senses transferred to my core. I couldn’t feel my toes, but could feel his thick ridges slicing into me, his hips rounding, intensifying his drives.
I felt it again.
My pelvis began vibrating, but I couldn’t do anything to propel or deter it. At the direction of Ezra’s plunges I hurled into another orgasm. This one I didn’t verbalize, I squeezed my lips together and let the bliss rush over me.
“Christ, Alexis!” he roared. “You have to control them!”
Ezra’s dives turned wild as be bucked into me in this uncompromising position. I just knew his thick frame would cause undue damage until he thrust deeply one last time before suspending. He tossed his head back alerting me of his release. His mouth opened wide to a silent cry and all I wanted to do was hold him while he shot his virility into me. Maybe it made me a freak, but I loved when he came inside of me. It was so damn intimate, and fucking hot!
I was completely sated. Slowly, Ezra released my stiffened legs. He rubbed circulation back into my limbs as I tried to gather myself.
“How am I supposed to control them? Who wants to?” I mumbled, incoherent post-sex state settling in.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, kneading my thighs. “I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you lots of fascinating things about your body and the power of your sexuality.” His words were delivered firmly with Ezra-confidence. That element held so much credibility with me now.
He didn’t speak to me much after that. He pulled me in to shower with him and afterwards we climbed into bed where he pulled me into his hard frame and held me until I fell into deep slumber.
The next morning, I awakened well after eleven. I guessed the time difference had finally caught up with me. There was no Ezra next to me, and although I understood he rose with the hens, I felt sad. If that wasn’t enough, I learned during my first trip to the bathroom that my period had arrived. That visit worked against other factors giving me the blues. Jet lag is a motherfucker. Unpacking my life into a new big house was hell. And I quickly learned I knew nothing about the man I was living with.
Ezra remained to himself, keeping to a regimen of working out, meditating through prayer, stowed away working in his office, reading tick ass books, and/or playing chess—on occasion inviting me to play. He did provide foot rubs a few times during the week of my period, and for them I was grateful. But that was it. I didn’t know what I expected; I’d never lived with a man before. One thing I could say is that I didn’t feel unwanted, he wasn’t rude. He just enjoyed time alone.
Hmmmm…
fourteen
Lex
“Thanks for your time today, Ms. Grier.”
I knew what that meant. It was the third time I’d heard it this week. After two face-to-face and one telephone interview, I was able to recognize the dismissal lingo. Melissa Smith of Passaic County Department of Social Services in New Jersey delivered the parting words.
I gave a brief nod. “Thank you,” I returned as I gathered my briefcase and purse, preparing to leave.
As I did, she waited for me, seeming bored and ready to move on with her day. The job was entry level, paying less than my previous. So why was I feeling like I was being turned down for my dream job?
Oh, yeah! Because it was my third in less than a week.
I took to the door, insistent on maintaining my dignity. She showed me out to the lobby and I kept a confident stride until I plopped into my scorching hot car and rolled down the windows. The best thing to happen to me this week was hearing from Ms. Remah and knowing she had been enjoying herself. That relieved me. That woman could be such a clam. Very few understood how soft and sweet she was inside.
I pulled out my phoned and sent a text.
Me: How do you bounce back from a shitty week of rejection while you’re on your cycle?
I started the car, and just when I prepared to back out of the park, my phone trilled.
Ezra: I don’t think my foot rubs are an indication of rejection. Sidebar: I see this one didn’t go well. Sorry to hear that.
Really?
I didn’t believe that for some reason. Although he asked about my job search from time to time, and in between his amazing foot rubs, Ezra had been rather indifferent about my plight. His inquiries felt contrived and obligatory.
Me: Let’s just say I won’t be traveling to the fine city of Paterson for work.
I pulled off and rounded the parking lot of the building to exit. At the threshold, a flash thought of making a trip to Harlem crossed my mind. I could check on my apartment. But then I’d possibly be annoyed by the new complaints of my father’s wild antics there.
I could check out Tasche before she gets ready for work tonight.
Hmmmm… I considered my options as I pulled onto the street.
My phone sounded again.
Ezra: Come home. I have something I want to show you.
At the red light, I tapped the phone as I thought. Biting my lip contemplatively, I typed my response.
Me: OMW
Thanks to mild traffic, I was pulling into the garage over forty minutes later. I dropped my briefcase and purse on the bench in the small foyer outside of the kitchen and I immediately heard music. Familiar music. Music that brought sex to mind.
“Ezra…” I called out as I followed the music.
I passed the kitchen, his office, and even looked out on the deck in the back. No answer and no Ezra. I stopped and realized the source of music was behind me. I made my way back toward the garage and on the other side, an unfamiliar door was open. And there flowed the eclectic and subdued sounds of Alina Baraz and Galimatias, bringing to mind my sensual discoveries of my husband’s treasure. My heart began to beat against my chest. I glanced around the room… for what, I didn’t know. Slowly, I padded toward the open door in the dark corridor and was immediately met by the scent of fresh carpeting that grew the closer I drew to the door.
The steps were carpeted, a soft black cushion and the railing leading down the stairs was brass, the walls gray. As I neared the landing, Ezra’s big body, built with graceful athleticism, bared from the neck down to the lowest part of his waist, waited for me. His beard its usual dark rich wiry mass and his thick eyebrows nearly hid his impassive eyes. To my immediate right was a deep purple pillow, close to the wall. There is where he motioned for me to stop. Abruptly I did, but my eyes continued to rove over the massive space around.
The black carpet ran the entire finished area, the walls a mild gray when the sun shone into the windows. But what was odd was the furniture, or stations. At the far end of the room, from as far as my sights could travel, I saw a bed—a massive bed with a black leather tufted headboard. Some of the dimples had metals coming out, and I couldn’t make out what exactly they were. There were two large black wooden chests of drawers near the bed. On another wall were two armoires pushed together with black snake print framing them and the center was tinted glass that I couldn’t see through.
I saw objects I couldn’t quite identify that were black leather and could be furniture, but I didn’t know. One resembled a flat gym bench and another an inclined one. The walls were relatively empty, but artful in an odd sense. The paint appeared velvet and that decor sufficed.
Shit!
I panicked when I saw along the ceiling was a track with chains and long metal spikes running practically the entire length of the room. My eyes shot over to Ezra for answers. For what felt like minutes, our eyes danced. This time it wasn’t a battle of w
ills, it was him assessing the possibility of me hauling ass. Eventually he raised a remote to mute the music.
“I need you to remove your shoes,” Ezra rasped.
My regard went to my heels then over to his bare feet. I toed out of my shoes and he reached for my hand. Call me crazy, but I gave it to him and we walked further into the spacious area. The aromatic experience intrigued me: fresh paint and carpet mixed with that of organic Ezra began to make my head spin. My eyes went wild after we neared the bed; turning the corner I could see a gigantic mirror mounted directly across from the bed. It reflected the reality of my situation: me timidly being led by Ezra’s aplomb muscular stature. My eyes raked to the right.
“What is this?” my vocals trembled with concern.
I watched as Ezra examined the room similar to how I had.
“Our sandbox.”
“Sandbox?”
“Yes, beloved.” He turned in to me.
“For what?” I hiked a brow.
“For our sensual pleasure. I told you I wanted to bring your mind to a level you never knew existed, fill it with sensual variety.”
My mouth opened and shut. For a while I was stunned into silence. “I don’t even know how to respond to something like that.”
Ezra took a deep breath and for the first time down here, I sensed a smidgeon of anxiety. I didn’t know if that reaction should have relieved or concerned me.
He rubbed the back of his head. “I prepared myself all night to provide you full disclosure.”
I snorted. “Full disclosure? Full disclosure should’ve been provided way back there where we met!” I thumbed behind me.
“Sweetheart, this type of revelation back there would’ve never gotten you here.” His thick brows rose in adamancy. “Listen, Alexis, I don’t want to be insensitive, but I have to be clear on my intent when I married you. I needed a woman with an open mind and a yielding spirit. You have all of those. I couldn’t be explicit with all facets of me and my interests because I needed to be able to trust you to that—”
“You mean marry me so my discretion could be expected.” I qualified.
I may not have totally known what this room set up was about, but I damn sure understood it was something wrong. Something that made it clear, once again, that I’d made a bad call marrying a man I didn’t know. A horrible one.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“What?” I yelled, not able to understand how he could hear my thoughts.
“This…” he gestured around the room. “…what I’m about to share is not that bad. If you would let me explain, I’m sure you would agree. Alexis, I would never do anything to hurt or endanger you. Your body is now just as much my responsibility as it is yours as far as I’m concerned.” As if he could read my thoughts he assured, “Believe me. I treasure everything there is about you and have more to lose if this thing doesn’t work than you. I’ve put my every sole belonging on the line, legally, to gain your trust and assurance. This shouldn’t change that.”
“Well, why the pomp and circumstance? Why the preamble? Just tell me. Please!”
I was growing anxious, the walls beginning to close in on me.
“I used to participate in bondage, dominance and sadomasochism…years ago.”
My chin dropped, eyes stapled onto him. “BDSM?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?” I nearly shouted. “Like dabble and experiment or…”
“I was so taken by the lifestyle that I studied and trained others.”
“What the fuck—”
“You may be disarmed by this news, but you will be mindful of your language when speaking to me,” Ezra warned coolly.
I did a double take at his audacity, but quickly recoiled. There was something damn hot about being rebuked by that exposed, bared toffee swollen muscled, dusted chest. I had to get it together. This was some heavy shit I needed to deal with. Tasche told me about the old Korean dude she left the club with that tied her to a pole and wore a mask as he dripped wax on her back while he fucked her. There was no damn way I would have that.
I shook my head. “You want to hurt me while you fuc—” I quickly corrected myself. “Have sex with me? Why?”
Ezra grimaced as he gestured around the room again. “Does any of this indicate pain?”
“But BDSM is pain, Ezra!”
“That’s only a segment of the lifestyle. I don’t prefer the pain outside of an occasional spanking. And that”—his eyes turned hooded—“I can teach you to appreciate. I have a strong inclination that you’d really enjoy it if you open your mind and trust me to guide you into it.”
I buried my face in my palms. Why was I fighting my arousal while discovering the man I married was a damn freak? “I’m so confused.” And exhausted from a week of rejections and having just finished PMS’ing.
“Let us start with why you’re confused, beloved.”
“I don’t know. This seems wrong and I’ve…conceded to so much already, Ezra! And it makes…” I couldn’t.
Ezra took a step back, locked his hands behind his back and lifted his chin in the air. “You’re intrigued…and aroused.”
My eyes jumped to his face with incredulity.
“It took almost two weeks for me to earn it, so you see why I refuse to have you digress in trusting in me.”
“I married you. Fuck trust!” I hissed, appalled.
Ezra stepped into my personal space and spoke gravelly in my face. “Marriage and trust are two mutually exclusive items. You can easily have one without the other and arguably have a successful relationship with either. It all depends on your covenant. My belief warrants the prior and my proclivities require the latter. For both I need you and your complete submission to me. It is paramount for this to be successful…for the both of us.”
And there was that word again. Submission. I thought we’d gotten past that. Our sex had been more than great. It’s fucking superb! Why were we back here on this topic again and why did we need all of this equipment?
“What do you have to gain?” I hissed again, cagily.
“Your complete trust and submission. Those two elements would provide endless gifts, beloved, during sex and outside of that aspect of our relationship.
“And what do I get out of it?”
“You once told me you had little luck with men getting you to orgasm, even with your guidance. I will give you that and more. I’ve already made good on it, which is why it was so important for me to get you there in Kamigu. Now that we’re past learning your ability to orgasm, I want to take it further and teach you how to multiply and intensify them. The gift of not having to think or request your needs, but having them met and then some. Incredible sex. Minimally, that is what I’m offering.”
My shoulders plunged in despair again. Tasche still had marks on her back from those damn candles. What was I even considering? I wasn’t clear on this proposal because I’d didn’t know shit about BDSM except it was for freaks. It sounded dangerous.
“I won’t hurt you, Alexis.” My head whipped up. “I will stimulate you, I will pleasure you, and push your limits, but I do not endeavor to hurt you.” I could see the earnest wrinkle in his brow line as he pierced me with an unfaltering gaze. “And I know you wanna give it try,” he growled.
And that unexpected departure from his formal vernacular is what unarmed my defenses. That and the fact that I didn’t like backing down from a challenge, not one like this. I was sincere when I agreed to trying something new. With the dismal outlook on finding a job and having my father home and in my apartment, up to only God knows what, I once again, found myself in a place where I wanted an escape. I wanted to put away the old Harlem girl and venture to something new—only if it was as good as Ezra assured.
“What do I have to lose?” I asked.
I could almost see the weights of relief rolling from his shoulders. Those pools of chocolate darkened again.
“If you give an old college try, you have nothing to lose, kitten
,” he urged with a rasp.
“But what is all of this, Ezra?” I needed a starting point. This was overwhelming. All of it. “Maybe you should at least orient me to what’s in here first.” I glanced over to the bed. “Obviously, I know what that is.”
Ezra shook his head, eyes filled with amusement as he bit his bottom lip hidden beneath the dark, thick hair of his beard. “Itemizing each piece will further overwhelm you. Come.” He reached for my hand. “Let’s start you off light.”
Without my formal consent, Ezra led me over to the landing of the steps where he had me remove my shoes earlier.
“Take off your clothes. All of them.” My eyes turned hard again. “Don’t think, just listen and act, kitten,” he advised with severe authority.
My heart, once again, pounded in double speed, a coat of anxiety covered my tongue weighing it, making it difficult to speak. I began with my sleeveless silk blouse and worked my way down.
“I will order you here when I need this type of play. When I do, kitten, sometimes you will come ahead of me and await my presence.” He pointed to the purple square cushion before assisting me with the zipper of my skirt. I quickly rid myself of my underwear and thigh-highs. When I was bared to him, Ezra continued. “You will do so here, on your knees in the position of prayer. Let’s try it out now.”
With trembling hesitation, I lowered myself to my knees onto the pillow and awkwardly lay out on my palms.
“Extend your arms, Alexis,” he directed with hoarse vocals. “Yes, that’s good,” he guided once I pushed, extending my arms past a point.
“Your face will remain down, unseeing. You cannot look at me.”
What the fuck?
I couldn’t help it. I giggled.
A swift smack landed from his hand on my ass; not excruciating, but enough of a sting to command my attention.
