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“I guess you could even call me a service dom. A Dom that mostly concentrates on the submissive's pleasure. Sometimes we’re enthralled by it.”
My cheeks heat at the way his eyes bore into mine.
“If you wanted to just lie there and take it, I’d be down for that.” He wiggles his brows, but an icky sensation settles in my stomach.
I’ve heard about doms like this once before while Paige was describing a guy at the club. In some situations just lying there and taking it is an act of laziness—I’ve done my fair share of “just get it over with” over the years—but in others it is a girl who lays back and is willing to take whatever her partner wants to give her.
“B-but... I’m not lazy.” I swear I’m not, even though all I’ve done is lie around and get spanked, fucked, and eaten out by him since I got here. “I’ll happily give as good as I get.”
Okay, maybe not quite as much. If I’d gone down on him for as long as he ate me out I’d have lock jaw.
He shushes me, brushing my hair from my face, his gaze full of fondness. “I know, Red. In this case it’s simply a submissive partner willing to give all control to her dominant partner. A mutual agreement so that we are both getting what we want. I want to worship you. Watching you, hearing you, feeling your reactions... that’s enough for me right now.”
After a beat of silence he grins. “Maybe when you regain the use of your limbs I’ll consider letting you get on your knees for me, but I don’t need it. You’ve satisfied me plenty.”
As someone who takes communication particularly seriously, I’d like to think if he felt differently he’d let me know. His face shows no sign of deception, and I know for sure he came last night.
He brushes a kiss on my skin. “Do you need a hand getting into the bathroom?” He hooks his thumb toward what I assume is the direction of the bathroom.
“I think I’m good.”
He frowns before kissing my forehead. “That was a lot, kitten. Let me help you.”
He pulls me to a seated position, my back resting against the headboard. He hands me fresh orange juice, and points at the bedside table. “Tylenol and ibuprofen, just in case.”
“I need a shower.”
He nods. I bend my knees, bringing them up to my chest and wince.
Even on the soft mattress, my butt protests at weight being put on it. It’s going to smart when I try to sit on something harder. Every muscle in my body grumbles at having to move. Yeah. I feel like I’ve run a marathon. And as we’ve just established, for the most part all I did was lie there and take it.
Repeatedly.
He smirks like he can read everything on my face and in my movements. “Maybe next time you’ll let me spank your breasts.” He winks before pushing the glass of orange juice up to my lips.
“Next time?” I arch a brow that was perfectly manicured when I got here yesterday, but after being thrown around like a rag doll, it’s probably sticking out in all directions. “What happened to King of the One Night Stand?”
“If you’d rather not repeat it, I suppose that’s okay. But you’re intrigued to experience some things in the community, and I’m a safe person to try those things out with. As long as we are very clear about our boundaries and expectations... I see no reason why I can’t help you fulfill those desires.”
That stirs something dangerous in my chest. I know this man isn’t mine. Nor will he be. I know he’s only cracking a window to allow me access to a series of experiences, expanding my kinky repertoire, helping me practice safe, sane, and consensual kink. But damn, if that intense concern in his eyes doesn’t make my heart skip.
He hands me a cereal bar. “I’m going to make pancakes and bacon, but I’d like for you to take a bite or two before you try to stand up. Would you like a bath instead of a shower?”
It’s tempting, but I don’t want him to think I’m just extending my time here. I don’t want him to think I can’t take care of myself, that I need him.
“Addison?”
“Hm?”
“Can you tell your brain to pipe down a little please? It was a simple question. If you’d rather a bath so you don’t have to stand up to shower, I’m happy to run one for you.”
My ovaries might burst at his thoughtfulness. “A bath would keep my hair dry. It needs to be washed, but I didn’t bring any of my products.” Gesturing to the birds nest framing my face, I give an embarrassed smile. “I could do with a hair tie though.”
“Hair tie, bath, and another drink.”
I’m starting to feel less hazy now the orange juice is seeping into my body. A few bites of the cereal bar while he’s filling the tub, and I’m almost feeling human again.
He gestures to a bookcase at the bottom of the bed. “Help yourself if you want to switch off and chillax in the tub. I’m guessing you left your overnight bag in your car. I’ll go grab that while you’re soaking. What do we think? Forty-five minutes?”
