by M. S. Parker
I didn’t know what to think.
“How many lovers have you had?”
The question seemed to come out of the blue, startling me into looking over my shoulder at him.
“What?”
“I need to know.”
I raised an eyebrow as I rolled onto my back, pulling away from him enough to cover myself with the sheet. I didn’t want him touching me when he was asking that question.
“How many have you had?” I shot it back at him before I realized I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
The question didn’t even phase him. “Lovers or sexual partners?”
“There’s a difference?” I crossed my arms over the sheet. The anxiety that had been building inside me was taking hold, and I was starting to regret all of this.
“The fact that you’re asking that tells me your number is lower than I’d originally thought.” He sounded almost amused, and when he reached for me, I glared at him. His hand dropped to the sheet, and all of the amusement left his expression. “For some people, sex is merely a physical act. An outlet without emotion behind it.”
“It’s not like that for me,” I said quietly. I started to climb out of the bed, trying to ignore the sting of impending tears. Juliette had warned me. I’d thought it was only because of the kinks he was into, not...it didn’t matter. I’d made my choice. I’d face the consequences.
His hand came down on my shoulder, easing me back against the pillows. The back of his hand brushed down my cheek. “I didn’t say you were like that for me.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, wanting to believe him.
He slid closer to me until our bodies were less than an inch apart, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look down at me. “Rule one in my world: Trust your partner.”
He brushed my hair away from my forehead, and I looked up at him.
“I may tell you that I won’t discuss certain things, but I’ll never lie to you.” His fingers continued to move back and forth across my forehead. “I’m not going to say that what’s happening between us is...”
His voice trailed off, and I got the sense he was trying to think of a good word. Instead, he went a different way.
“I don’t know what this is, but I didn’t just want to get off. I meant what I said, Hanna. I want to introduce you to my world.”
Suddenly, something I’d heard somewhere popped up in my mind. “So, you’re grooming me.”
That mouth twitch again. He slid his hand down my chest and cupped my breast through the sheet. I caught my breath as his thumb rubbed over my nipple.
“I suppose that’s as good a word as any,” he said. “The idea of teaching you, it...appeals to me.”
I tilted my head slightly, narrowing my eyes. “And you have to know how many people I’ve had sex with in order to teach me?”
His eyes glinted. “I could say that I need to know what your experience is, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. The reality is, I want to know how many men I have to...dislike.”
My previous anxiety fled, chased away by the warmth that came with knowing his reasoning. I gave him the short version. “I dated a guy in high school. We had sex once before he left for Texas A&M, then once during winter break freshman year. He broke up with me two days later because the long distance thing wasn’t working for him.”
Cross’ fingers tightened on my breast for a moment, and I heard him mutter a curse word. He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to mine. “He was a fool.”
I shifted closer to him. “It was a few years ago. I’m over it, but thank you for saying it.” I put my face against his neck, breathed in the scent of him. I didn’t want to look at him when I asked my question. “What about you?”
He tensed. “What about me?” The question was flat.
I looked up then. “You said the first rule was about trust. How many lovers have you had?”
“Lovers,” he said slowly, “or partners?”
I considered the question. Which did I really want to know? How many people he’d fucked, or how many he’d felt enough for to call them lovers?
“Whichever category I fall into,” I finally said.
The hand on my breast slid down to my waist, fingers curling around my hip and pulling me toward him until our bodies touched.
“Which do you want to be?”
I scowled at him. “Are you trying to avoid answering me by countering with questions until I give up? Because I’m more stubborn than you think.”
I wondered how many predicaments that dimple had gotten him out of.
“No, I just don’t want to assume. I want us to be on the same page here.” He shifted so that he was sitting higher and could use his other hand. He ran his fingers through my hair, twisting a curl around his finger.
“I don’t want to be just another girl,” I said, looking down at where my hands rested, clutched together on my stomach.
“Hanna.” He hooked a finger under my chin. “Look at me.”
I did even though I didn’t want to. I could feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks.
“I’ve had three women I would consider lovers,” he said. His thumb rubbed against my bottom lip. “My high school girlfriend, who was the first person I’d ever had sex with. We were together two years. Then, the woman who introduced me to this world...and you. I can’t give you a number of partners, because I don’t keep track. Not because they don’t mean anything at all, but...think of them like gym partners.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Gym partners? That you fuck?”
He chuckled, his hand falling to my side again. “Maybe not the best analogy, but it was all I could think of.”
“I would’ve thought, with all the partners you’ve had, you would have a patented answer already prepared.” I was half-teasing, but Cross’ face was serious again.
“I’ve never had this conversation before,” he said. “All of my previous partners were already in this lifestyle. All we had to talk about was limits and safe words. I’ve never had to go at this pace.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked cautiously.
“No.” He gave me a new smile, a softer one. “Just...different.”
Silence stretched out as he pulled the sheet off of us. I watched him as he explored my body, his hands sliding over every inch of skin. My fingers, arms, shoulders. Collarbone, breasts, stomach. Down my legs to my feet and back up again. He started with his fingertips, lightly tracing the skin, then his palms followed, turning the faint tingling to a deep warmth that spread through me.
Then he came back up beside me, and leaned down to give me a slow, sensual kiss. I turned toward him, pressing against him as his tongue explored my mouth the way his hands had my body. Before it could turn into anything more, however, he gently pushed against my shoulders, putting me on my back again.
“When do I get to touch you?” I asked, my words still breathless from that kiss. “Or is that not allowed?”
He made a low sound and reached out to catch my hand. “You want to touch me?” He kissed the tips of my fingers.
I nodded, squirming as the feel of his lips against my skin made my pussy throb. That was the one place he hadn’t gone in his explorations.
“It’s allowed,” he said, his voice rough as he placed my hand on his chest, holding it in place with his. “If I say you can. Anything’s allowed if you’ve been given permission.”
“And if I haven’t?” I asked. I could feel his heart beating against my palm, steady and strong.
His eyes heated, narrowed. “Then you’ll be punished.”
A not-unpleasant thrill went through me. “And what does that mean?”
“That’s something you and I will have to discuss. What your limits are. What things you definitely don’t want to try.”
I gave him a puzzled look, momentarily distracted. “I thought the Dominant decided everything. Like he did what he wanted. I mean, Juliette explained safe words to me, but I didn’t think there was so
me sort of negotiation that went into it.”
He let go of my hand and tucked a curl behind my ear. “A submissive can decide if that’s what they want. If they want to trust their Dom to give them what they need without limits, only the understanding that everything stops once that safe word is spoken.”
I nodded, understanding. “That’s why you said the first rule is trust. So, even if there are limits set, a Sub has to trust that their partner will stop.”
“What most people don’t realize is that a true Dominant / Submissive relationship is a balance. The Dominant has the control, but the Submissive has the power. They have to trust each other.”
“I see what you mean about how there are things we need to discuss,” I said.
I hadn’t realized things would be so complex. It would have to be though, I supposed, for it to work. And once a person knew all of the introductory stuff, if they found partners within the bdsm world, explanations wouldn’t be needed.
I remembered something else he’d said. “The woman who introduced you to all of this, you counted her as a lover.”
He nodded. “I was twenty. She was twenty-three. We were together for a little over a year.” He put his hand on mine again. “But I don’t really want to talk about that. Not now anyway.”
“You don’t?” I asked, a partial grin curving my lips.
“No.” He shook his hand and moved my hand down his chest. Then lower. “I’m giving you permission to touch me.”
That was all I needed, and thoughts of deeper conversation were filed away for later consideration.
Chapter Fifteen
When Cross said that we’d talk later, I hadn’t really believed he’d meant it. But when I woke up on Tuesday morning, Cross was already up. I followed my nose downstairs to the kitchen where he was cooking. Like, actually cooking a real breakfast, not just reheating something or stirring up some mix. He’d made bacon and was now working on a skillet that included eggs and a whole bunch of things I’d never seen before.
My mom was a great cook, and I knew how to feed myself, but everything had always been simple. Breakfast might be bacon and eggs, or sausage and waffles or pancakes, but we were salt and pepper kind of people. Maybe some ketchup. Plain old maple syrup from a bottle shaped like a woman.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked without turning around.
“I did.” I sat on the bar stool.
Last night, Cross and I had eaten dinner and watched a movie, but I’d been in the shower when it’d been delivered. Or so I’d thought. Now I was wondering if he’d actually made what we’d eaten.
“You cook?” I made it a question.
“I do.”
I could hear his smile.
“When I was twelve, my mother and I took cooking classes together. After that, I helped with dinner every day after school. After they...passed, it became my way of...connecting with her.”
My heart twisted in a way that had nothing to do with physical attraction.
“It smells wonderful,” I said gently. “Did you make the chicken last night?”
He nodded and I wondered if he didn’t want to speak because of how personal this was for him. He said he felt more for me than just some random sexual partner, but I still didn’t know what that meant. But with us having nothing else to do except wait for news on my sister, I figured I had plenty of time to figure things out after. Until then, I fully intended to enjoy everything he had to offer.
***
“You’ve never given a blow job before?”
I flushed with embarrassment and looked away. A part of me wanted to leave, to forget this whole thing, but to do that, I’d have to use the safe word Cross and I had set up. And then I’d have to ask him to untie my hands so I could get dressed.
“Look at me.” Cross’ voice was quiet, but firm.
I knew I was supposed to do what he said. We’d talked about the role of a Submissive, safe words and limits. Not my usual breakfast conversation, but that was where it’d started. It had taken pretty much the entire morning, and now it was evening and we were back in the play room, where I was supposed to do what I was told.
“Hanna.”
I was suddenly aware that he was kneeling in front of me. He put his hand on my cheek and turned my face toward his. I kept my eyes down.
“Baby, look at me.” He said it gently, but I could still hear the command in the words. “I know this is new to you, but you need to do what I tell you.”
I finally raised my eyes.
“It wasn’t a slight.” He ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “It was surprise. What the hell sort of man could look at those lips and not want them wrapped around his cock?”
He leaned forward and gave me a light kiss. A wave of warmth went through me, both from the physical touch and the comment.
“Now,” he said as he stood. “Are you ready to learn?”
I looked up at him, my nipples tight from both the chill of the room and arousal. He was naked too. He’d taken his clothes off after he’d ordered me to strip, after he’d tied my hands behind my back and had me kneel on a small rubber mat. I’d thought it was odd at first, but even after only a few minutes, I appreciated it. The floor would’ve been killer on my knees.
“What if I’m not any good?” I voiced my concern before I could lose my nerve.
He gave me that smile again, but I knew he wasn’t laughing at me.
“Let me teach you.” He ran his fingers through my hair, twisting the curls until he had a firm hold. “Open your mouth.”
As he slid the tip of his cock between my lips, he continued giving instructions. How to move my tongue, how much suction to use. I listened even as I let myself enjoy the weight of him, the feel. Part of our discussion had covered protection, and I was glad we didn’t have to worry about it for this. I wanted to taste him, not latex.
He used my hair to guide me, to coax me to take him deeper, but he never pushed past where I was comfortable. I could tell he was holding back, that there was a part of him that wanted to hold my head, to fuck my mouth until I could take every last inch of him. But he didn’t.
He wasn’t completely in control though. I could feel it slipping as his hips jerked ever so slightly. I could hear it in the way he’d gone from calm instruction to groaning my name. My thighs were slick with my own arousal, my pussy pulsing with every sound. When he’d said before that the Dominant had control, but the Submissive had the power, I hadn’t really understood it.
Now I did.
He pulled me back, tugging hard enough on my hair that my scalp stung. I licked my lips as he stepped back, savoring the taste of him. He stared down at me for a moment, then pulled me to my feet, fast enough that I stumbled. I didn’t fall though, he was holding me too tight for that. His fingers dug into my upper arms as his mouth came down on mine with bruising force.
His teeth bit down on my bottom lip hard enough for me to gasp, but he swallowed the sound. His cock was hard against my stomach, my sensitive nipples rubbing against his chest. All of my senses were on overload. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I didn’t want him to stop.
But he did.
He stopped as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me across his lap. I was too startled to do more than squeak as he positioned me over his thighs, my ass in the air. I could feel the head of his cock against my belly, wet with my saliva.
“What...?”
The sentence stopped abruptly as Cross’ hand came down sharply on my ass. It was more of a shock than a hurt, but I yelped all the same.
“What the hell?!” I struggled against his arm, but he held me tight.
“We discussed this earlier,” he said, his voice firm. “You disobey, there are consequences. You agreed.”
Shit. He was right. I had. I knew that meant my only options were to use my safe word...or take it.
Another crack made me jump. This time, there was a bit more of a sting.
And something else.
Ar
ousal.
He spanked me twice more, each a little harder than the last. My ass was stinging, overly warm, but not actually hurting. And then his hand was sliding down between my legs, fingers dipping into me.
“You’re wet, baby,” he murmured. “Did you like that?”
My face burned even as I gasped, pushing back against his hand.
“What are you supposed to do when I ask you a question?”
“A-answer.” I doubted I could’ve remembered my name at the moment.
“The blow job, the spanking, did you like them?”
I didn’t really want to answer, but I knew what would happen if I didn’t. “Yes,” I admitted. “I did.”
I felt his hands at my wrists, and then they were free. He pulled me up, arranging my legs across his lap, his arms around me as he rubbed my arms and wrists. I hadn’t even realized that my hands had started to go numb until I felt the pins and needles of blood flowing back into my extremities.
“Did you?” I asked, watching his hands instead of looking at his face.
“Did I what?”
“Enjoy...all of it.”
His hands stopped their ministrations, and then he was rolling us over onto the bed. I hissed out air as the soft sheets rubbed against my ass. He landed with his elbows on either side of my waist. His eyes locked with mine as he put my legs over his shoulders.
He started to lower his head, then stopped and looked up at me. “Yesterday, was that the first time someone had gone down on you?”
I nodded, my entire body tight with anticipation.
He turned his head and kissed the inside of my thigh. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked, completely confused.
“For not making your first experience memorable.”
My eyebrows went up. “It was, trust me.”
Something crossed his face, and he pushed up onto his elbows. “Please tell me that wasn’t the first orgasm you’d ever had.”
