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Stop second guessing yourself. Follow your gut. Follow your heart.
Hadn’t that been one of Eric’s core lessons during her brief training? If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. So wouldn’t the converse be just as true?
She turned to him as they stepped out of the elevator. “I’m so glad you were there tonight,” she blurted.
At precisely the same moment, he said, “I can’t wait to kiss you again.”
They paused a beat, untangling the sentences. Then, as if on cue, they replied in unison, “Me, too.” Then they burst out laughing.
Rowan felt considerably more relaxed after that.
As they entered Eric’s apartment, she half expected/half hoped he would push her up against a wall just inside the door, like something from a movie. Their clothes would magically fall away as he lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Without realizing what she was doing, she turned to him, lips already parting for the inevitable kiss.
But instead of pulling her into his arms, Eric asked politely, “Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“Oh,” Rowan replied stupidly, taking a second to recalibrate her expectations. “Yes. That would be great. White, if you have it.”
He left her, giving her a chance to get herself back under control. She still wanted him as much as ever, but she was content to let him set the pace, for now.
When he returned, they sat on the sofa, thighs touching as they sipped from their glasses. Their general talk about Salome’s Lair segued into a discussion of the incredible scene they’d shared.
“You’re extremely responsive to erotic pain,” Eric remarked. “I’ve never been with someone who flew so easily. Some subs never get there, even though they’re open to the experience.”
“It’s a really weird thing,” Rowan replied. “I mean, I have no idea how I do it. That is, I don’t actually do it. It just sort of…happens. There’s this point where it’s just too much and I can’t take it another second, and then suddenly I can. You know what it reminds me of?” She turned to Eric, excited to try to describe it.
“What?” he asked, smiling back, his warm eyes crinkling at the corners.
“It’s like standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon. You’re going closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. The erotic pain is overwhelming you. Your heart is beating too fast, you can’t catch your breath, your body is clenching in terrified anticipation as you peer over the edge at the vast expanse below. Then, just when you can’t hold on for another second, when you’re going to freak totally out, suddenly you’re over the edge.
“But instead of plummeting to the rocks below, you’re lifted high, high up over the canyon, soaring like an eagle in the silence. It’s a kind of peace you can’t imagine, pure and white and filled with joy. It’s awesome.”
“You’re awesome, Rowan,” Eric said. Something changed in his expression as he stared into her eyes. Taking her empty wineglass from her hand, he set both glasses down on the end table by his elbow. He took one of her hands in his. Turning it over, he kissed her palm and then her wrist, his lips soft.
The supremely sensual gesture undid her. Unable to stop herself, she whimpered with lust.
“You took quite a whipping tonight,” he murmured as he kissed her palm again. He fixed her with a masterful gaze that melted her insides. “May I see the marks?”
Rowan wasted no time kicking off her sneakers and sidling out of her jeans. As Eric knelt before her, she let her legs fall open. Though he’d applied a soothing salve to the welts before they’d left the playroom, some marks still remained.
“Badges of submissive courage,” he breathed, running his fingers lightly over the remaining welts. Her skin was tender, but his touch sent a shudder of pleasure through her body as she basked in his praise. Then he lowered his head and brushed his lips feather-light over her skin.
She drew in a breath, her clit pulsing, her cunt aching with need. Too fast or not, she wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life.
“I want you,” she whispered.
He continued to move his mouth over her thighs, nearly driving her wild.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, Sir.”
He lifted his head, regarding her with those very green eyes, his pupils dilated. Getting to his feet, he held out his hand.
She took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. Pulling her close, he brought his mouth to hers. She reached up to stroke his soft beard as they kissed, loving his taste, his smell, the hard promise of his cock pressing against her.
As their tongues danced, Eric’s hands drifted down her face and moved along her throat, leaving a shivery trail of heat in their wake. He unbuttoned her shirt, his mouth still on hers, and then pushed it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
