Safeword (3 page)

“No. I screamed because I wanted the blackness, and it terrified me.”

Ben was silent for a beat. “Why did you want it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did the nothingness seem peaceful?”

“Not particularly.”

“Or was it to let go for a while?”

“Really, Ben, I don’t know.”

“Or did you want to disappear into it and never come back?”

“I don’t know, all right?” I snapped, muscles tense and vibrating as I pushed him away and sat up. “You know, for a shrink, you don’t do much listening.”

A tentative hand rested on my back, between my shoulder blades. “I’m trying, Gavin. But I can’t be objective when it comes to you.”

I sighed, my irritation draining away. How much more of a burden could I be? “I don’t want to dissect my dreams. I know they’re trying to tell me something, and I promise to tell Laura about the new one. But I just want to go to sleep, like a normal person, and get up in the morning. Go to work and do a good job. Come home to you and have a nice dinner, maybe curl up together on the couch to watch a movie. Go to bed and fuck like rabbits. And wake up the next morning to do it all again.”

The soothing circles he rubbed into my back stuttered, and his fingers trailed down my side before disappearing altogether. I heard the sheets rustle as he laid back down, the silence in the dark room ratcheting up in oppression. Why did we always end up here, in a silent standoff? There was no doubt for either of us we loved each other. But I guess this wasn’t a fairytale, some cooked up romance where love conquered all. This was our lives, and sometimes, in real life, love didn’t always cut it.
Goddammit, I’m so tired of this. Say something, dipshit. Don’t just roll over and try to sleep. That’s what you always do.

Tentatively, I stretched out, facing him and lying as close as I dared, staring at the shadow of his profile in the dark.

“What happens if you decide you’ve set aside who you are for me long enough and want out?” I whispered.

“What?” He didn’t turn toward me, just continued staring ahead.

“You’re a Dom, Ben. And I’m a sub who can’t give up control. That’s not exactly long-term relationship compatibility, is it?”

“On the surface of things, no.”

It stung to hear, but I was glad he was honest with me. “The longer it takes me to get better, the more impatient I get, the faster I want to heal, the more pressure I feel, and I end up taking two steps back. I don’t want to lose you, but I love you too much to ask you to wait around forever while I inch along in therapy.”

In the dark, the faint light seeping in between a crack in the curtains glinted off his teeth as he smiled and turned to me. “You don’t get it, you daft idiot.” He said it without rancor, and despite the cut of the words, his gentle breathing, the sweet smile on his face, and a twitch of his fingers toward my hand negated any ill feelings hovering between us. I chuffed a laugh.

“What don’t I get?”

“You are the only one I want, sub or not, fucked in the head or whole. This last year, with you, I’ve woken up inside. I used to think it was the thrill of the whip, of seeing someone on his knees for me, or the heat of a freshly reddened ass that made me feel alive. Getting someone to fly with me, taking submission for the gift it is—that’s a heady thing. It makes my nerves sing and my heart beat fast. Gets me hard and I feel like can do anything. And that feeling is a pittance compared to being with you.”

I sucked in a breath, embarrassed at the burn in my eyes even if it was too dark for him to see the tears.

“Despite what we’ve been through, what you’re still going through every day, I’m not going anywhere. Yeah, I want you better, but not because I want you on your knees. It’s because I hate to see you suffer.” He chuckled as I shuffled closer, burying my face in his neck and sliding my knee over his thigh. His half-hearted stiffy poked my belly, but he seemed oblivious. His warmth enveloped me, and he rested a hand on my side, letting me glom onto him instead of trapping me in his arms. “If you’re never my sub again, I’ll still be the luckiest guy on Earth. We survived, Gav. We beat that motherfucker.
You
beat him.”

“No, I didn’t,” I scoffed, the words muffled against his shoulder.

“Yes, you did. You broke the case. Myah showed up just in time because you told her where to look.”

“Not in time for the others. It was fucking obvious, and I missed it. I missed what was right in front of me for too long, and people died.” The guilt, oh the guilt, it would eat me alive for being two days too late for Nick Parker and Zach Campbell, my personal devil’s last two murder victims. Or two hours too late to spare Ben the pain of the attack. To spare myself.

“Gavin, you have to let it go. We all have regrets. Think Cole doesn’t feel terrible he couldn’t hack the recordings of Nick and Zach’s murder faster? Think Myah doesn’t wish she’d been more insistent you cancel our appointment with a killer?”

I stayed silent, for once thinking outside my own selfish regrets, donning the shoes of others. It was an enlightening moment.

“Think I don’t wish every day I hadn’t made that appointment?” he asked quietly. I gawped at him. “We all made mistakes. None of us made Lane a killer. He did that on his own. So quit making his insanity your problem.”

After a time, I said quietly, “It wasn’t my best detective work. My stupidity nearly got us killed.” And there it was, the weight of the world resting on my shoulders. Only, with his assertion that others shared misgivings similar to mine, the burden didn’t seem so heavy.

To my surprise, Ben laughed. “It’s not like you weren’t distracted by other things. A freshly minted divorce. A new work partner. Coming to terms with who you are and who you want to be. Coming out to your brother. And a particularly selfish consultant who couldn’t keep his hands off you.”

I lifted my head and grinned. “I liked that part.”

“Oh you did, huh?” Ben asked, trailing his hand down my side to my ass. He rested it there, not moving, not doing anything that could send me into the tailspin that so often happened when he touched me. He let me figure out what I was ready for. In the last several months, as I’d spiraled further and further into a pit of shame and guilt, Ben had nearly switched roles in bed, not demanding anything while I topped from the bottom. Suddenly, that seemed wrong on so many levels, and the urge to rectify it stunned me with its ferocity. For once, my cock stirring to life wasn’t a tightrope walk between need and fear.

Using my leg over his hip as leverage, I pulled him on top of me, gasping as his weight pinned me to the mattress. The panic fluttered but gave a dying shudder as I pushed it away, not even starting my recitation of the periodic table. He did an immediate pushup, looking into my eyes with concern as my chest fully expanded with deep breathing. “What are you doing?”

“Trusting you,” I answered hoarsely, squeezing his hips with the insides of my legs bent at the knee. “As much as I can right now, let me trust you again.”

He smiled and lowered himself, resting on his elbows and knees, not letting me bear any of his weight. His lips on mine were soft and warm, and I loved the way he teased me with his tongue, soft little jabs he made me chase. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I pulled him flush with my chest, nipping at his jaw and chin. His scruff felt like home, and I thought of the nights in the beginning when I’d woken up with him rubbing his face between my shoulder blades, his dick poking my ass.

Sliding my hands lower, I gripped his ass, feeling months of pent-up frustration manifest into boldness. I kneaded his beautiful muscles, pulled his pelvis onto mine, his cock no longer half-hard, but full and glorious next to mine. He let out a sigh as our lengths touched and stroked. Very deliberately, I pumped my hips into him, pulling him against me in counterpoint. He felt so good, warm and commanding without taking, showing me his desire without expecting me to perform for it. He truly had set aside the Dom to put me first. Part of me was upset by that, but I didn’t want to think of sadness in this moment. The spark of reconnection was too fragile to douse with sadness, and we needed this. The last few months of tentative lovemaking were tepid compared to this.

Ben’s mouth was heaven as he moved to my neck, always one of my sensitive spots. The sharp nip of teeth followed by the soothing flat of his tongue had me panting, desperately humping him. He shifted, not quite hovering over me, not quite resting his weight on me, but allowing our skin to connect and crackle. He breathed softly in my ear, bathing me in heat and security without pinning me down.

“Ben, I need you,” I whispered, licking along his neck and savoring his scent. His smooth skin was an aphrodisiac, and the boldness reared up again as I traced a finger between his ass cheeks, touching his hole and flitting away, only to come back and circle it again. His movements slowed as he watched me, his desire plain.

“Need me how?” he asked. “You want to fuck me?”

I sucked in a breath. He’d mentioned switching it up occasionally, but the truth was, I liked bottoming too much, and when it came down to the few times he’d offered himself that way, I was too far gone in my desire to be filled to agree.

“I—” I didn’t know how to answer that, especially when he reached between us to take us both in hand, slowly stroking. My eyes rolled back in abandon and I groaned.

“So how do you need me?” He wanted to know, and I knew that insistent tone. He would wring every last shudder from me but the one I chased, getting me just to the edge, then pulling back. Repeatedly. Until I was an incoherent mess or told him exactly what to do. I’d had enough of being an incoherent mess,
and
telling him what to do. I was a sub, goddammit.

“You call the shots. Surprise me.” This was, I knew, a big step. A sign of trust. The smile he gave me told me he understood what I was doing and he was on board, at least in this. It wasn’t a scene. It wasn’t punishment. For the first time since the attack, I was allowing myself to deserve pleasure, however it was delivered. His revelation that I wasn’t the only one who’d made mistakes in catching Lane had struck a chord within me, and for a moment, I allowed myself to be human again.

I grinned back, not quite done. There was one other sign of trust I wanted, one that was mutual, so I wasn’t the only one taking a leap. “On one condition.” He listened intently despite working his hand over the crowns of our dicks. “You do it bare,” I said through gritted teeth, staving off the pleasure of his expert hand. His eyes widened and he stopped completely, sitting up.

“Gavin…” he trailed off. I followed him, taking his hands in mine, trying to calm my breathing.

“No, don’t overthink it.” I tried to keep the pleading from my voice, but I had no idea if I was successful. I just knew I needed him that way. “We’ve been exclusive since the beginning, even if we never talked about it. We both tested clean after... So what’s stopping us?” I put a hand to his cheek. “It’s a step forward, right?”

“Not too much for you at one time?” he asked. I breathed in relief. He wasn’t unsure of us, just unsure of going too far all at once. That last scene must have really gotten under his skin, and for a change, I wasn’t so focused on myself that I couldn’t see what he’d been going through, being strong for me.

“No,” I assured him. “Every couple makes this choice sometime, right? I think we’re overdue.”

He nodded, his teeth peeking through tentatively upturned lips. “But the rest you want as a surprise?”

I shuddered, though in pleasure or fear, it wasn’t clear. Probably both. He looked at me as if he understood. “Yes,” I said softly, kissing him, fire reigniting the air between us. “I can’t hold on so tight anymore. It’s either bend or break. I’m broken enough.”

“Lie on your back,” he instructed. I did as I was told, smiling at the implication of being ordered once again what to do. But this felt different, not restrictive. I was choosing to do what I was told, and Ben was suggesting, not ordering. It wasn’t claustrophobic; it was freeing. It was the same feeling I’d had the first time he tied me up. A surprising surge of longing for how we’d once been licked at my heart.
Maybe again someday.

He leaned to my bedside table and flipped on the lamp to rummage in the drawer, coming back with a bottle of slick and a small toy, which he held up for my inspection and approval. I nodded, eyes widening slightly. When I’d fallen apart after our last scene, I hadn’t wanted to shut Ben out despite my touch aversion. Toys had helped. At first we’d only watched each other, me with the toy and him stroking off. Even Dr. Ribaldi had approved and suggested small ways to incorporate Ben slowly back into my self-play as a sort of desensitization therapy. Baby steps, so Ben’s touch was the only one that didn’t make my skin crawl. It had worked, and we kept it up. So I wasn’t all that surprised to have Ben make the suggestion.

As I settled back onto the pillows, he knelt between my legs, his hands sweeping soothing stripes of warmth up and down my thighs. I sighed, my knees naturally falling apart, inviting him closer. He obliged, and the sight of him kissing up one inner thigh to lick and mouth at the junction between leg and groin while one hand kneaded my balls had me lifting to my elbows for a better view of the show. His tousled hair shone in the dim lamplight, and I couldn’t have stopped the murmur that passed my lips if I’d wanted to.

“You’re beautiful.”

He rewarded me by sucking one nut into his mouth. I groaned, his tongue heating my flesh from the inside out. He skimmed a feather-light hand up my torso. When he traced a finger along my bottom lip, I sucked it into my mouth, twirling my tongue over his nail. He moaned around my nut sack, and I squirmed, caught between the tickle and pleasure. His finger nice and slick, Ben lowered his hand and knelt up.

“Pillow,” he ordered, voice husky as he playfully smacked the side of my butt.

I lifted my hips and settled it beneath me, angling myself to better suit his intentions. The spit-slick finger disappeared from view as he spread my cheeks before slowly pushing inside me. The invasion wasn’t comfortable. It almost never was at first, but he knew my quirks, and he gave a little wiggle inside me as I acclimated to the pressure. It was when the tension left me that he expertly turned his wrist and pushed into my prostate, bringing a snap to my hips I had no chance of controlling.