Authors: Cindy Jacks
Before I’d finished climaxing, Black jerked out of my cunt and straddled my face, shoving his cock to the back of my throat. Unable to close my mouth, I pulsed my tongue against his velvety head, my pussy still spasming. I wanted him to climax as I gulped down ropes of his cum.
He held my cheeks together, fucking my face, the rope tugging harder at my tongue. I struggled to breathe, but when I felt his sac tighten, I knew it wouldn’t be long that I’d have to manage his pace. A few thrusts more and he exploded, filling my mouth. I swallowed down his cream, my lungs straining for air.
Chest heaving, Black carefully climbed off. He slid to the floor, hand to forehead. Though I could hardly make out his expression out of the corner of my eye, I got the sense he was choked up.
As if the world came back to him in one sudden burst, he jolted upright, reached for a pair of scissors and set about cutting me free. Once he’d freed a limb, he would rub it down with the salve from the bottle he’d brought earlier. Immediately it soothed the burning sting left in the wake of the ropes. When he finally freed my mouth, he gathered me in his arms, smoothing my hair and pressing me to his chest. My body ached from holding such an unnatural pose for so long and I was glad for the comfort and shelter of his embrace.
After several minutes passed, I looked up at him. Tears glittered in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head, but offered no explanation.
Finally, he released me. “Let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”
I nodded.
As he had the night before, he scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom. Glad to have the help, I was unsure I could even walk at this point. And just as he had the past two nights, he brought a warm washcloth and some over-the-counter painkillers. I gulped them down, the cold water icy against my dry, raw throat.
Only when he curled up with me did I have the courage to ask, “Is that what you used to do with Mika?”
He nodded.
Unsure how I felt about this revelation, I studied his face, his expression. Features tight, lips pressed together, he for once broadcast his emotions clearly.
“You miss her.” Not a question, a statement.
“Every day.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted to flee the house. Was that all I was? A substitute for a dead woman? But I didn’t run. I curled up in a ball, putting distance between me and Black.
Propping himself up on one elbow, reaching for me, he said, “I’ve upset you.”
“It’s fine,” I lied.
“It’s not fine.” Brushing a thumb over my lips, he moved in for a gentle kiss.
I wanted to reject him, I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but somehow—faced with the only real emotion I’d seen from him—I was powerless to act.
As we parted, I drew in my lips, tucking them between my teeth. If I couldn’t reject his kisses outright, I could prevent him from tasting me again.
“Don’t be like that.” He caressed my face. “We shared something special tonight.”
Had
we
shared it? Or had he shared it with the ghost of a dead woman? And there was that word “special” again. He liked to toss it around, but never put it in any context. Emotion gripped at my throat, but I would not allow myself to cry.
“Little Red, I didn’t mean to upset you. I wanted to share Kinbaku with you because it means something to me. Surely you understand that.”
I didn’t understand. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow in the light of day…
Sighing, I rolled over. “I’m just tired.”
“I’m sure you are.” He stroked my hair and shoulders, planting little kisses where his hand alighted.
Confused and worn out, I gave over to his tenderness. I couldn’t reconcile the man who’d forced me to my knees in a public restroom or the man who’d rammed his cock down my throat, gagging me repeatedly until he came, with the man cuddling with me in bed. If indeed he was cuddling with me and not the memory of his lost lover.
He kissed my forehead. “Get some rest. You have to write more tomorrow.”
Though most of our relationship was predicated on doing as he said, it irked me that he thought he could dictate my actions outside of playtime or my training.
“Tomorrow? I work tomorrow.”
“We’ll discuss that in the morning.”
He draped an arm over me. Little by little, his body relaxed, his breathing evened out, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t sleep. This was all moving so fast and I wasn’t sure how much further I wanted to go.
Sexually we were compatible, no doubt about that, but emotionally… Well, I thought we’d connected, but now too many doubts crept in. Was I a substitute for Mika? Did I even want to stay here with Black? And that was another thing. I didn’t even know his real name. He didn’t know mine.
Granted he was the most intoxicating man I’d ever met and I was blossoming under his tutelage. I felt different already—more confident, more desirable than ever. For the first time in years, I considered quitting my job and devoting myself to writing full time. But by the same token, everything in Black’s world had this darkness about it.
Even here in his bedroom, the lights out and curtains drawn, I felt as though the pitch black would swallow me. Question was—did I want it to consume me or did I want to be free of it?
Too tired to come to any conclusion, I gave over to the pull of fitful sleep.
Monday morning, I woke early. I had to get ready for work and to be honest I was looking forward to a little normalcy, a little time to sort out how I felt about Black and about, well, everything.
As I dressed, he entered the room, carrying a cup of coffee, which he set on the dresser. Apparently he’d brought it for me.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. Well, to work, then home.”
“We discussed this. You shouldn’t be wasting your time at that menial job.”
“It’s
my
menial job.” I tucked my shirt into my skirt. “It pays the bills.”
“I can pay your bills.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I struggled to ascertain whether he was serious. “Black, I have to go.”
He grabbed me by the arm and pushed me back onto the bed. “Not if I don’t let you go.”
A real burst of fear shot through me. He was so much stronger than I was. Rough sex was one thing, but manhandling me in this situation wasn’t acceptable.
“Midnight!” I jerked my arm free. “This isn’t playtime. I have to go.”
He backed off, crossing his arms over his chest. As he watched me finish dressing, I could feel him smoldering beneath his silent exterior.
Did he really expect me to quit my job and stay with him? And the ghost of his dead lover? Three days did not a commitment make.
Finally he spoke. “When we discussed this arrangement, I told you if we fit together, I’d allow you to stay.”
“Yes.” I smoothed my skirt. “But I haven’t made up my mind if this is the right fit for me. I need some time to think about it.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I picked up the cup of coffee and headed into the kitchen.
He followed hot on my heels. “What’s there to think about? Haven’t I given you everything you’ve asked for? At this point in our lives, what sense does it make to prolong a courtship if the end result will be the same?”
“Is that what this is? A ‘courtship’?” I put air quotes around the word “courtship”. Who even used the term courtship these days?
“I thought I made myself clear the night we negotiated this arrangement.”
“So now it’s an arrangement?”
He set his jaw, staring at me as though I’d sprouted a second head.
“I can’t just move in with you. We just met. We just started getting to know each other. I don’t even know your real name.”
“Are you telling me you don’t feel the connection?”
“I do and to be honest, it scares me a little. I don’t know that I want to live like this every day. Sexually I find the whole BDSM thing very intriguing, but I don’t want you to tell me what to do, day in and day out.”
For the first time since we’d met, true anger flashed across his face and he barked at me, “Who says that’s what I want from you? I’ve told you all along I admire your strength.”
“Yes, that’s what you’ve told me, but what you show me is something different. Hell, that’s what you’re doing now—demanding that I stay, demanding that I quit my job. You can tell me when and how to suck your cock, but outside the playroom, you aren’t going to tell me how to live my life. Period.”
He didn’t reply, he didn’t move, he didn’t even look at me.
Fine. Whatever. It had been a mind-blowing weekend and maybe that was the best I could hope for from someone like him, from a situation like this.
I’d known all along that this type of sexual exploration was outside the norm and there was nothing wrong with that, but I wasn’t ready to commit to…to whatever he was asking me to commit to.
Shouldering the laptop bag, I turned to leave then thought better of taking the gift with me. Gently, I placed it on the counter.
“See you when I see you…
sir
.”
He didn’t reply so I strode toward the door. Then I heard him murmur something. I hadn’t quite caught what he’d said and I froze. My hand on the doorknob, I knew I could leave. I could be free, free of whatever strange codependence was forming between me and Black.
Instead of moving forward, I asked, “What did you say?”
After he cleared his throat, he replied, “I said my name is David. My real name is David Denegro.”
Shock rippled through me. It was the only concession he’d made in the past three days. Taking a deep breath, I turned around.
I walked up to him and took his right hand in mine. “I’m Georgia Reilly. Nice to meet you.”
Nodding, he fixed his gaze on the floor. Was it so hard for him to share this vulnerable moment with me? I realized it must be difficult for him to relinquish even a tiny bit of control and yet he’d done it. For me.
In that moment I understood. As much as I longed to please Black—no, not Black,
David
—he longed to please me just as much. I had equal power in this budding relationship. Somehow I’d stumbled on to the one man who completed me. Yes, completed me—as unpopular a notion as it was these days.
He was the darkness to my light, the night to my day, the Dominant who craved my submission. We’d forged a powerful bond, one that would take some time to comprehend. But if I didn’t make my stand now, would he ever really respect me?
“I—I don’t know if I can stay here with you,” I murmured. “And Mika.”
Head shaking almost imperceptibly, he looked at me. “That’s not what I’m asking of you.”
“Isn’t it?”
Again, he fixed his stare on the floor. That was all the answer I needed.
I kissed his cheek. “We’ll talk after I’m off from work.”
He released my hand, wrapping his arms around himself, and with that David was gone, replaced again by Black’s cold stare.
I nodded and took my leave.
Once out the door, I breathed in the cool, crisp autumn air. The leaves on the trees had turned various shades of magenta, scarlet and buttercup yellow. What the hell was I doing, running away from the most exciting man I’d ever met to hurry off to a shitty job I hated?
But could I do this? Could I give myself to a man who ate, drank and breathed so foreign a lifestyle? Would he lose interest in me after he’d forced my total submission? Would I allow him to dominate me completely? Was that what he wanted?
Maybe it was really what I wanted. The thought sent a shiver up my spine.
More questions ricocheted around my brain, but I ignored them.
Once in my car, I willed myself to start the engine, then I willed myself to pull out of the driveway. One step at a time, I found myself finally in my cubicle at work. It seemed grayer and smaller than usual. No matter how hard I tried to banish the memory of Black’s hands on my body, the sensation haunted me. My cunt still ached from the pounding he’d given me the night before, my skin still raw from the elaborate bondage. The thought drew my nipples into painfully tight buds.
Blinking away tears, I shook my head. I’d never make it through the day at this rate. Minutes seemed like hours and hours stretched into days, but finally six o’clock rolled around. I collected my purse, clocked out and bid my coworkers goodbye.
As soon as I exited the building and entered the parking area, I saw him— Black stood by my car, bearing a bouquet of flowers.
A grin pulled at my lips—yet another concession from him. “What are you doing here?”
He shook his head. “Can you honestly say that today was better than your weekend with me?”
“No but—”
“But it’s something you can call yours. I know.” He held up the bouquet. “These are yours as well. I want you to have whatever
you
want. I want you to have a choice. That’s all.”
“Didn’t sound like a choice this morning.” I took the flowers.
“Because I don’t understand why you would choose
this
.” He motioned to the squat gray building, chuckling. “Other than sheer stubbornness.”
My turn to laugh. I put the bouquet to my nose. The fragrance of tuberose, jasmine and violets flooded my nostrils.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
Though I appreciated that he’d met me this far, I still had more questions than answers. He demanded so much of me and gave so little. If he expected me to take the next step, he had to show me more.
“You’ve spent a good deal of time forcing me to examine my motivations, but I know nothing about why you enjoy dominance and inflicting pain.”
Fixing his stare on some faraway point, he nodded curtly. “It’s something that took a very long time to figure out and it’s not something I tell just anyone.”
I remained quiet. I wasn’t just anyone, he had taught me that. The silence stretched on but I would not budge, not until he had given me what I asked for.
Finally he went on. “I haven’t always taken artistic photos. I was an embedded journalist for over a decade. Somalia, Kosovo, Iraq. I saw people do terrible things to each other and I had no control, no power to stop them. All I could do was chronicle those atrocities and that made me feel inadequate.”
Of all the things I’d expected him to say… Well, I hadn’t really expected this much. My heart broke for him. I tightened my grip on the bouquet, a little sorry I’d stripped him so bare. “As a Dom, you feel powerful.”
“And in control. The darkness of my youth, it’s a permanent part of who I am. I crave it.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “And…and I didn’t mean to muddy the waters by sharing with you what I shared with Mika. I see you for who you are. Surely you know that.”
I did know it. Perhaps my own insecurities had flared, making matters worse. “I just thought… I don’t know what I thought. What we share, what we do—it dredges up a lot of emotions.”
“As it should.” He tucked a curl behind my ear. “We can feel this out together. That’s what we’re supposed to do.”
I nodded. God knew I wanted to. Would I be weak to give in to him or would I be stronger for taking on the exploration of body, mind and soul?
“We don’t have to decide everything today.” He held out a hand, which I took.
“Okay.”
“Where would you like to go now?”
“My choice?”
“Your choice.” He arched one eyebrow.
“Let’s go to your place.”
Casting his gaze skyward, he shook his head and sighed. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to stay this morning and talk all this out than to go through this whole song and dance?”
“No.” I sniffed the bouquet again. “And I don’t think it would’ve been much of a challenge for you if I had.”
He pursed his lips as if considering what I’d said then replied, “Agreed.”
Black advanced on me, pinning me to my car with his body weight. Kissing me hard, he raked his teeth over my bottom lip.
“Leave your car. I’ll have my assistant drop it off later.”
“Okay.”
“Not ‘okay’. Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
He pushed one knee between my legs, his hands roaming over my body, his mouth capturing mine again. Other people milled around the parking garage. I didn’t care if they saw. I had a feeling I’d worked my last day at this godforsaken place. Black retreated, punctuating the kiss with a few pecks to my chin and neck.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes sir,” I replied, pressing my teeth against my stinging bottom lip.
The darkness of David’s world closed in on me again, but this time it was different—enticing instead of strange or menacing. I slipped into the passenger seat of his car, letting his hold over me consume me. I fell into his blackest night, unsure of what the future would bring. But whatever resulted, it would be of our own making. Together.