“Huh?”
It was another thing that had come from therapy. We hadn’t talked about kink with Victoria, and she hadn’t told me to treat Ever like my personal mannequin or sex doll, but I’d been thinking about it. Giving him commands made me feel good. It broke through the fog that ate at me at times, through the doubts that I was here just for his own pleasure, and mine didn’t matter. If the command was along the lines of debasing himself sexually, the fog sometimes remained, but when it wasn’t? I breathed easier. He did, too. Not for the same reasons, but he thrived on his submission, whatever shape it took.
It was one of those two birds, one stone situations. I gave him what he wanted and needed, which sated my need to serve, andbecause the command wasn’t about coming or fucking himself or anything along those lines, it soothed the bruises that spread across my chest when I wasn’t paying attention.
“The green one with the laces at the back? The front looks like a pirate shirt.”
“Oh.” Ever sat up. “Yeah, okay.”
“And…take off the cuffs?”
That got more of that playful glint in his eyes. “But I thought big guys with all your training could get out of a pair of silly cuffs.”
I scoffed. “Babes, you don’t want what’s gonna happen if I’m the one who gets out of these.”
I wasn’t sure I could get out of them, not without breaking something, but I was beginning to understand what it meant when Ever said it was all about the fantasies and the role-play.
Most importantly, it spurred him into action, grabbing the key from the bedside table and getting them off me with more dexterity than I would’ve expected from his usual jittery self.
“That’s a good girl.”
When he did things like I asked, it only made sense that I praised him, right? And that I got to enjoy the blush spreading down his neck.
“Shower, then you can dress me up?”
“That works.”
It also worked if I took advantage of showering together to press his front against the tile and rim him until I made sure he could wear one of those plugs he had with the jewels glued to the base. I was pretty sure he had one that would match the pirate dress that was, apparently, not a pirate dress.
Ever looked hot in it, though, which was my reason to not care that much about all the different words about fabric and cuts and whatever else he tried to explain while I toyed with him some.
I only stopped when he was a flushed, whimpering mess, rutting against the sheets of the bed like there was no deeper thought going on through his head.
“Any special request for breakfast?”
“Not picky,” he mumbled.
“Not what I asked,” I retorted.
There was some grumbling in response. I didn’t catch it, and it didn’t matter. He needed a few minutes sometimes, and it was fine. I’d worried at first, but he had explained it. It wasn’t like we didn’t communicate about anything at all.
Seeing Victoria, the two of us, had helped, though. It had lifted a weight off my chest, not just the session itself, but the knowledge that I had done the right thing. I’d known what to do to take care of him.
In this headspace, everything else didn’t feel so dreadful. Visiting the club wasn’t something I was super excited about, but curiosity lurked there. The same feeling applied to the idea of a Dom. I wasn’t jumping at the seams to bring it up, but maybe in a few months.
Victoria said I was moving at a great pace. She added lots of words about setbacks and healing not being a race or a competition, but I refused to be one of the people who spent years going to her office to vomit all my problems. It was problematic of me. I didn’t think less of people who needed that. I just didn’t want to be one of them. I wanted to do all the homework she gave me, to go through all the shit, and have that be the end of it.
The air fryer had just pinged with the croissants I’d set there to reheat when Ever stumbled into the kitchen, half dressed in that way that made it look like I’d caught him in the middle of a walk of shame.
“Help?”
“Turn around.”
I had no idea why he’d bought so many clothes that he needed a second set of hands for, but I guessed that the look on his face when he was all dolled up was worthy.
“You look so hot,” I said before showing him to the tray of butter, jams, and sliced fruit because I could never guess which he was going to go for, and heading to cut the croissants in half. “Any plans for today?”
“Nope.” Ever shrugged. “Sergio texted to see if I wanted to go see his cat, but I’d rather stay here.”
