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Just speaking the unadulterated truth brought my orgasm on like a runaway freight train. I might have squealed and squirmed, but damn if I didn’t come hard. I could have passed out from the sheer force of it. I lay back, waiting for my breathing to slow. It helped that his hand had taken up stroking my leg. Though I’d just gotten off, I was ready for more.
I opened my eyes, ready to beg, when he said, “Go to bed.”
My mouth opened and air escaped, but I managed to hold back the words. I’d sworn to myself I would see this through from beginning to end. I found myself mentally chanting, don’t stare at his cock as it strained against his pants when I got to my feet and dutifully went into the bedroom.
I didn’t close the door because the invitation was open for him to join me. Though I knew he wouldn’t. I cleaned up in the bathroom and did all the normal things to get ready for bed. When I came out, I almost said something.
How did it work? When was what I’d orchestrated over? Then again, that was clear. His last order was for me to go to bed. So I did. I lay there a while, replaying the adventure in my head. Nothing we’d done was much different from any other couple. Only the compulsion to do as he asked without question was unique to a D/s relationship. Then again, I was certain there were other couples who had the same dynamic. They may not call it that, but it was.
I woke in the morning to bright sunshine, the soothing sound of waves, and the smell of delicious coffee. I got out of bed and wandered into the living area, which included the small kitchen. I hadn’t stayed in a place this small since college, and I found I kind of liked it.
“Morning,” I said, still not sure of protocol.
“Morning.”
On the table were two steamy mugs of coffee. Greedy, I sat and brought the heavenly aroma to my mouth. “This is the best part of waking up.”
I waited for him to say something, as I’d left an opening for a witty reply, but he didn’t.
“I’m not sure when the game ends,” I said, softy feeling shy.
“In the terms you’re speaking, it’s called a scene. And yes, it’s over.”
I wanted desperately for the discord to be over as well. “Are you still mad?”
“I’m not mad, Lizzy, but that doesn’t mean anything’s changed.”
He set a plate with eggs and bacon in front of me before sitting across from me. I walked over to him and straddled his lap. It was becoming my favorite position to be in when I was around him.
“Elizabeth,” he said hoarsely.
“Don’t do that. I don’t call you Connor. Don’t call me Elizabeth,” I said, searching his eyes to make sure I hadn’t completely lost him yet. “I want you, and I’m not giving up without a fight.”
“You don’t know what you want,” he said as his hands slid up my thighs to grip my hips almost to the point of pain. He seemed to know just how far to go and when to stop.
“I do. Last night—”
“Last night, you did what I thought I wanted.”
I glared at him. “Is that why you didn’t fuck me?”
“I told you it’s not a game.”
“It wasn’t a game to me. I know what happened earlier, and I’m sorry for that. Sometimes I speak without thinking. But all of that was for me. I needed to know if I could.”
“And?”
I leaned forward and bit his lip. “And it would have been nice if it hadn’t ended.”
“Liking rough sex isn’t the same as D/s.”
“No, it isn’t. But it means my limits aren’t as firm as I thought. When I saw you on stage that night with that whip in your hand, I wanted it to be me,” I finally told him, and I gave him the rest of my truth. “I’ve never subscribed to a man tying me up. It’s different with you. I know if you do that, you won’t take advantage.”
His eyes dilated and I felt his cock hard and ready against my core.
“I wouldn’t.” He leaned forward and bit my lip this time.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
I wouldn’t ever know if he would have because his phone rang.SeventeenLizzyNot seven seconds into whatever he heard on his call, he helped me off his lap and paced while muttering a yes or two. His face lost color at one point and he ran a hand over his head.
“Is everything okay?” I asked when he finally ended the call.
“Eat. A car is on its way. We’re leaving.”
“I don’t want to eat. Just tell me what’s going on.” A million scenarios played out in my head.
“I have to go home. Now.”
“Why?” I pressed.
