Losing Control (19 page)

I found myself alone in the massive suite that Thorne had already booked. I took a look around, tried to get comfortable with the surroundings, but I still felt a kind of cold anxiety. So I headed into the shower, and afterwards found my wardrobe for the day already hanging in the closet. It was a nice little designer dress, and there was a set of beautiful heels in my size, right next to the bed. I put those on, dressed up and poured myself a glass of wine, sat on the couch in the den and turned on the TV. I had barely finished the first glass when I heard Thorne’s footsteps. He was still in his work clothes and the minute I saw his face, I realized again how much I had missed him, how much I had wanted to see more of him. He came towards me and started kissing me right away.

“I thought I was going to explode if I didn’t see you another minute!” he said.

His words confirmed what was in his eyes. I was relieved to see he had been waiting and suffering the same way that I had. He took the wine glass from me and took a sip, then set it aside. He started kissing me and we started making out on the couch, in a rush, as though it was a first time for both of us—and the strange thing was that’s exactly what it felt like. “Elena,” Thorne said. “I need you. Right now. I don’t think I can wait.”

Suddenly, the whole Dom/sub thing comes to mind and I didn’t know how I was supposed to respond.

“Are we allowed?” I asked

“Allowed?” he said, looking perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the arrangement, Thorne. What does it say about moments like this?”

“Oh Elena,” he laughed, and then got a serious look on his face. “It says we fuck as soon as possible.”

I woke up early enough the next day. Even though the clock was showing a little past eight in the morning, there was no sign of Thorne anywhere in the room. There were just those sheets, crumpled into his shape. I got up and headed to the bathroom to freshen myself up. When I came back, there was still no sign of Thorne but I could smell something delicious cooking in the next room. I put on my clothes and headed in the direction of the sounds to find Thorne in the kitchen, setting up two places on the breakfast bar.

“Good morning,” he said cheerily and came to kiss me. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” I replied, going towards the place set for me. “I’m guessing you didn’t?”

“I’m just used to waking up early,” he said, taking out the orange juice from the refrigerator and placing it in front of us.

“Me too,” I admitted “I love being awake in the morning, especially when I don’t have work to go to.”

He looked at me as though he was surprised. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Doesn’t it make you feel like you’re really on a vacation? If I sleep in too late I just get depressed. Makes me feel like the whole day’s gone by too fast.”

I looked at the food. “I didn’t know you could cook,” I said, lifting the fork.

“I can’t,” he said, grinning and coming to sit with me. “But I can make it look like I did.”

I can’t help laughing at his smugness. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” I said, coyly.

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

We started eating the breakfast and Thorne never stopped talking. He told me about the things bothering him at work. He also told me how he had to make an odd offer to someone, just to make a lawsuit go away. I could tell he felt guilty about it. But I also knew it had to be done.

I
loved
talking to him.

I loved just hearing his lips form words, and I loved how he became a completely new person with every line that he spoke. I didn’t think I had ever been so mesmerized with anyone for this long. And he was doing nothing, just moving his lips and using his vocal chords, but it always felt to me like he was revealing a part of himself in those conversations. I could barely believe this was happening. The past week seemed a dream, something that happened to another conscious version of me.  He was not the Thorne Ryker who sat in his office all day yelling commands at people, and shouting over the phone. He was not the guy who barely looked at me twice in five whole days. I truly believed that was the moment I realized the point of that whole exercise. This. What we were having right now, as though we could not get enough of each other. As though we were on some new adventure, instead of a planned weekend together.
This
didn’t seem planned.

I didn’t know what to expect from him and that was why when he just sat there finishing his breakfast bit by bit, drinking his coffee and smiling that beautiful smile, I couldn’t help but feel like I wanted this to go on for as long as possible. I wanted this to be real, and not just something inside my head. I suddenly felt like I knew him, his secrets, even the ones he hadn’t told me yet. Thorne always surprised me and this was by far his biggest surprise, this personality that he was showing me. The way he was talking about regular, everyday things.

He was baring his life, soul, his true self to me.

And the sex we had last night was wonderful too, passionate and sultry and more than just physical need. Only Thorne could make me feel all of this, all at once. He made me feel special, even when he wasn’t talking to me, or hearing me talk. That text message, every night, that’s what it was, it was confirmation. It was a sign of his devotion, his love. It was a way to communicate that even though we were apart, we were more together than ever before and that the space mattered as little as any other factor when it came to the two of us.

When we were done eating, I felt the need to look at the view from that high up. One of the living room walls was made entirely of glass and the view was visible no matter where you were in the room. I went up to it and I felt speechless. Thorne came and put his arm around me and the weight of him felt comfortable and nice.

“I love seeing you happy,” he said, kissing my cheek. “I’m glad you’re happy with me, Elena.”

I turned so that I was facing him. “So,” I said. “When were you teaching me more?”

“Teach you?”

“You know,” I hesitated in saying the word. “The whole…bondage thing.”

Thorne started laughing. “The way you say it,” he said. “It sounds like some disease people have to learn about or something so they don’t die.”

“You know what I mean.”

He led me by my hand and took me to the bedroom. He made me sit on the side of the bed and then he knelt in front of me, with my hands in his own and he kissed them one by one.

“What did it feel like when you didn’t get to talk to me all week?” he asked.

“I felt…bad, I guess.”

“You were disappointed the whole day,” he said. “You wanted to see me but you couldn’t because I told you not to. Then I sent you that text, every night, and you knew I was aware of everything that was going on. Did you go to bed every night thinking of me?”

I didn’t reply but I was certain he could see it on my face. “You did, didn’t you?” he said. “You know why? Because you were connected to me. There was a huge distance between us, and we weren’t even talking but you were connected. You came here, you accepted the plan and you drove here with Stanton even though we never talked or discussed it again, we never confirmed it, because you trusted me. Because you knew I wanted you just as much as you wanted me. There was never any doubt about that.”

He was still looking at me and used one hand away to take a strand of red hair out of my face. “Being a slave isn’t about some physical act,” he said. “It’s about this connection. It’s about feeling it even when we’re not together. It’s about making your whole life about this one person and not letting anything get in the way. Yes, there are some physical acts I prefer but we have our whole lives to figure that part out. I would never do something you’re not comfortable with. We don’t need to sign some contract or anything. You’re mine and you should know that I’m yours.”

I couldn’t quite explain the feelings I had inside when he said all of this. I wanted to tell him he was right about everything. I wanted to tell him more. That I wanted to be his. There was some kind of power, some magic in his words that I couldn’t run away from. All the fear, all the confusion was gone and it had been replaced by sheer lust and a different kind of devotion. An understanding.

I think he knew it too because when he kissed me this time there was a new kind of eagerness in him. I couldn’t help but kiss him back and he slowly climbed over me so I had to lie back on the bed, and receive his body on top of me. He broke off for a minute to take off his shirt. The sight of him was just amazing. He was all toned muscles and skin that was warm and welcoming. I could smell him now, and it was urging me to take this further. I was still wearing the dress I wore yesterday and his hand reached past it. He helped get rid of my thong. His hands were touching me then, driving me wild and I couldn’t keep those moans in any longer. He mouth was on my mouth and his tongue was darting in and out, and bringing me closer and closer to the edge…but instead of taking this further he stopped. His hand came away and his mouth broke off and he was just hovering above me, watching me.

“You want to please me Elena?” he asked and he didn’t have to tell me what the answer should be.

“Yes,” I managed. “I want to please you.”

“I need to hear you say it again,” he said.

The need for his touch is so bad I can’t really think of anything else.

“I want to please you,” I said hoarsely and the desire inside me was getting painful.

“Prove it,” he said.

He took my hand and brought it towards my flaming body. He pressed my hand on my own heat and I felt the pleasure emanating from my clit. “I want you to touch yourself,” he said, and saying that, he let go of my hand and used it to spread my legs apart. “Do it for me.”

I hesitated for only a second until I felt Thorne’s mouth on mine.

“Do it,” he said, breaking off from the kiss. “You want to please me, don’t you?”

I know that I have never been that wet. I started to rub myself and the pleasure started building up, higher, and that was when I felt Thorne’s hand going up and reaching for the breast through the fabric, and it just drove me towards an orgasm until my legs were shaking.

Soon, he was on top of me, unclothing himself and his erect cock was ready and waiting, just like I was.

Afterwards, we just lay in bed, next to each other.

“Why did we come here?” I asked. “We could have gone to the loft.”

“Lane was there,” Thorne said. “I didn’t want him to go stay somewhere else.”

I noticed a hint of seriousness in his voice. “Thorne?”

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Kind of.”

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “At least I hope it is. I’m just worried about Lane.”

“Lane? Why?”

“I don’t think he’s doing too well.”

I turned to face him in bed. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never told this to anyone,” he said, looking at me. “But Lane, he’s not like other kids.”

“What’re you talking about, of course he is! He has most of his hair in his eyes and the dangerously low-riding jeans.”

“Well yeah, but…he went through some shit about a year back.”

“What kind of shit?”

Thorne sat up, propped himself against a pillow. “Well, there was an incident,” he said. “With another classmate. She died in a car accident. Lane was the one driving the car. He became all messed up over it, tried to kill himself. We sent him to a facility and we all thought he was cured.”

“And you think he’s not?”

“A while back,” Thorne said. “I caught him doing drugs.”

“Oh.”

“Well, I confronted him and he told me he was going to quit.”

“And he hasn’t?”

“It seems like he has,” Thorne said. “But I think maybe he’s having a rougher time than he’s letting on. But you know there’s no way to know for sure, because he won’t tell me these things. I just feel like I’m not doing everything I can for him.”

“Thorne,” I said. “You’re actually doing some solid parenting.”

“Someone had to,” Thorne said. “My parents weren’t exactly dying to do it.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated,” he said.

I laid a hand on his. “Tell me, please.”

“Elena,” he began. “Lane and I we share the same father but we had different mothers. Lane’s mother was a prostitute. She died from a drug overdose. So my father brought him to our home. My mother was already pissed that he had an affair outside of the marriage and she wouldn’t let him keep his other son. But my father said he had no choice. So anyway, Mom eventually had to succumb because I guess she couldn’t stand losing my father. So she took Lane in, but she could never really love him the way she should have.”

“Does Lane know all this?”

“He does.”

“Can’t be easy,” I said. “I mean, he basically knows he’s not wanted.”

“I do what I can,” Thorne said. “Elena, I’ve never for a moment felt anything less than love for him. I’ve always tried to show him that, but I guess it wasn’t enough, because he’s still taking drugs.”

“Thorne,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”

He was suddenly quiet.

I went to sit next to him and put my arms around him.

“I just want him to be okay,” he said.

“He’ll be fine,” I said. “You just need to be there for him.”

After a pause he spoke again. “There’s something else,” Thorne said. “That I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

My heart started beating faster in anticipation. “What Thorne? What is it?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

My phone on the nightstand rang suddenly; there was a text from Nick.