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“Soon, sweetheart, give my body a minute to recover. You only wanted vanilla in the past, yet you like it rough and you’re a natural submissive, getting wet at a dominant hand. The naughty, dirty you like so much. Have you wondered about that as much as I have?”
She laughs as she presses a kiss to my chest. “I was raised to be a submissive. I also love the way you take control of me. I love it when you treat me as if I’m here only for your pleasure. I love it because it gets me wet to give you all the pleasure you demand. When it’s over for you, it’s not over. You take me to heaven again and again, every time. You aren’t selfish in the slightest. I trust I’m yours to take care of so I trust you.
“When you get rough I can tell you don’t mean to be, you get carried away, and that’s exciting to me, too. To know my body pushes you past your control, even then I trust you. I’ve never trusted anyone sexually before.”
“All these years, and with Frank, you didn’t trust anyone?”
“No.” Her grey eyes are clear, not a cloud in sight. “My ex-husband had no idea what he was doing. Sex was boring, which was good, because when it wasn’t boring it was painful because I could never get wet. The men, you know, every man they had rules they agreed to and so did I. Tabatha and a few very experienced women showed me what to do, had to show me what to do.
“Twenty, married for two pitiful years, and I had no idea what do. They showed me how to give the men what they wanted, not just sex but the talking, the listening. I learned how to pretend to get through an appointment.
“There were a few men, the regulars I had who seemed interested in my comfort, my orgasm. Ultimately though, it wasn’t for me. It was because they wanted me to feel better about them, to please them.
“How did you end up with Tabatha? She doesn’t take just anybody, she’s very particular about her clients and her women.”
“After the last time with the landlord, I ended up huddled on the couch. A woman, Dana, had become friendly with me in the hospital. We swapped horror stories about our sick kids. She came by to check up on me after finding out about Thomas dying. I told her about Billy telling me that I was on my own and the repeated rape by the landlord and how I had no one and no money.
“Dana got me up, poured coffee down my throat, and cleaned me up. She asked me if I was willing to die or if I wanted to keep living. If I kept the way I was going I’d be dead in a few weeks. If I wanted to live and give my parents, Billy, and everyone else a big fuck-you and live my life, I had to get up and start living.
“Dana admitted she had been working for Tabatha for the last year. Even with health insurance, because she was not working to be with her daughter, their bills were overwhelming for her and her family.
“Tabatha had started from a place pretty close to my own. She was pregnant and married at eighteen. Then her daughter died from an asthma attack at a year old. When Dana pushed me in front of Tabatha she spilled my story, about Thomas making it to only twenty months.
“Tabatha took pity on me. She laid out a few thousand on just cleaning me up and making me suitable: a haircut, clothes, lingerie. Then she found me a place with one of her girls. You’re right, Tabatha is extremely picky. I’m lucky she took me in.
“I was still numb to pretty much everything at the time. I stayed numb for the next few months. I held onto that numbness as a means of making it through every day. When it finally faded away, all I could do was fake it. Honestly, I didn’t want to enjoy sex. I was afraid, really, of what it meant about me if I liked sex. Gradually though, I realized feeling guilty about something that felt so good was a waste of time and energy.”
“I’m glad you figured that out.”
“Me, too.”
“I’m also very glad you trust me enough to know all I want is for you to always feel as good as you make me feel. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need from me.”
“Okay, it’s just, like I said; I love when you take charge. You make me wet when you get all rough and forceful. But if I go too long without what I want then I’ll ask.” Her hand wraps around my cock. “Do you think I can get a spanking and another hard fucking?”
Chapter Ten
I wake up alone and for once, I’m relieved. Clutching Grant’s pillow to me, I inhale the scent of him. Last night, after we both lay there slowly coming down from our orgasms, the air around us felt different. Telling myself I was crazy. I tried to sleep only I couldn’t, neither could Grant. Did he feel it to?
Was it all the talking about my past? I’m a little embarrassed at my admissions, yet as I stand under the hot water in the shower the embarrassment dissolves. I had an important, long past due discussion with my lover about the sex we have. It was the kind of discussion every woman should have with her lover. If Cosmo was to be believed, it was the solution to having a healthy, open sex life.
Considering sex was the reason I was here, it made sense in every way. My list of no-gos wasn’t enough, I know that now. Then again, I hadn’t known just what and how much I liked the things Grant introduced me to. So maybe it wasn’t past due, just due.
In my closet, I go to the clothes from my accounting days. I have yet to learn to throw things away and they might come in handy in career 2.0, for now they stayed. Thinking of meeting with an advisor I make a face, changing up from the normal loose dresses and maxi skirts I love. I find loose black trousers and team it with a button down short sleeved white blouse.
When I walk into the kitchen Grant is finishing his eggs and looks at me. “Is that really what you want to wear?”
God, he gets me. “No, but you’re wearing a suit.” And holy crap does he look good in it. Maybe it’s because I rarely see him in one that I’m already picturing undressing him, very slowly.
“Go change into something you feel comfortable in. They want the billionaire to show up in a suit, it looks better in the pictures.”
Back in my closet I pull on a plain black maxi skirt. Huh, all the good eating is doing me some good. I fit into a silk pink long sleeve shirt with large faux buttons meant to be worn out of pants. When it first came in the mail, from a catalog, despite it being a size fourteen, I could barely get my fat arms inside. I had been too lazy to send it back. Now it fits perfectly.
After much sadness and pain, I came to find my Keds weren’t cut out for traipsing through the city. Since I would be walking who knows how long around a campus, I reach for a pair of lace ups suggested by a very nice lady in a shoe store when she saw me buying new Keds.
These things were awesome, from the outside they looked like just another cool pair of shoes a teenager might wear. Inside the arch support had me going back and buying them in different colors.
Back in the kitchen Grant smiles, pulling me to him with a kiss on my forehead. “What time do you need to be there?”
