Lost in Light (15 page)

Rounding the corner into the kitchen to see him wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting grey pajama pants slung low on his hips brought me up short in the doorway. His back was dominated by a large and beautifully intricate tattoo of a Chinese dragon and a tiger entwined in battle, the colors impossibly vibrant against his light golden skin. The muscles in his back and shoulders moved like liquid steel beneath his skin as he stood at the stove stirring a pan of eggs with sure and precise motions, the movement making the dragon and tiger appear to undulate and writhe in a sensuous dance. The small patch of dark hair on his back just above the waistband of his pants drew my gaze and I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I recalled running my fingers through that hair the night before as I drifted off to sleep.

“See something you like?” he asked, glancing at me over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Clearing my throat I tossed my head in defiance as I pushed away from the doorframe and stepped into the room.

“Maybe,” I retorted playfully, brushing past him to pour myself a glass of orange juice from the carton sitting on the counter. My bravado was slightly undermined by the fact that I had to keep pulling up the borrowed shorts as they threatened to puddle around my ankles.

Smirking he turned back to the stove, stirring the eggs and adding a dash of salt to a saucepan with a thick yellow liquid in it. Glad for the reprieve from his intense gaze I levered myself up onto the edge of the counter and sipped the cold juice, savoring its tartness.

“I see you found the clothes I left out for you.”

“Oh yes, thank you,” I said, glad that I didn’t have to feel remorse for wearing his clothes after all.

“Do you like Hollandaise?” he asked, turning to face me with a small spoon of the thick yellow sauce. He paused for a moment, arching a brow at the sight of me sitting on the counter but didn’t comment on it.

“I’m not sure.”

Crossing the small distance between us he stopped between my thighs, not quite touching, but close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off of his body and to make my pulse quicken.

“Blow.”

Moistening my lips I blew gently on the steaming sauce before closing my lips around the spoon. He watched me intently, his eyes fixated on my lips as he pulled the spoon out of my mouth. He reflexively licked his lips as I licked my own, savoring the rich and creamy sauce.

“Well?”

“It’s delicious,” I replied, licking my lips once more to savor the flavor. Setting the spoon in the sink beside me he lingered for a moment, leaning in towards me as if to kiss me, turning away at the last moment to snatch up my glass of juice and take a long drink.

Flashing me his wicked schoolboy smile he went back to the stove, juice in hand, and gave the pan of eggs and saucepan each another quick stir before turning off the burners. Rolling my eyes at his back I poured another glass of juice and enjoyed the view as he bent to remove a pan from the oven, the scent of perfectly cooked bacon making my mouth water almost as much as the sight of his perfect ass outlined in the thin grey cotton. Collecting two plates that already held a couple slices of buttered toast from the warming drawer below the stove he quickly divided the eggs and bacon, and spooned some of the sauce over the eggs.

Sliding off of the counter I pulled up my borrowed shorts once again and moved to take one of the plates from him.

“Come here,” he said with a smile as he set the plates on the counter and reached for the hem of my shirt, grasping a handful of the fabric and pulling me towards him . Lifting up my shirt to bare my stomach he grinned at my sharp intake of breath as his knuckles brushed against my skin. Fixing his gaze on mine he slowly and deliberately pulled the waistband of the shorts out and tightened the drawstring inside until they were no longer in danger of falling off my hips.

“Better?”

Unable to find my voice I simply nodded and ducked my head, hiding behind the fall of my hair. Gratefully accepting the plate of food from him I took a seat at the table and immediately tucked in, suddenly ravenous.

“So, do you have any questions about anything we did yesterday?” he asked with a smile before taking a bite of his eggs.

My initial reaction was to blush and bow my head as I recalled the way he had so easily made me writhe and moan in ecstasy. Biting my lip, my thoughts flashed to the long list of words and phrases I had read online, and how unsettling I had found some of them to be.

“I do have some questions,” I ventured cautiously, setting my fork aside and clasping my hands in my lap under the table.

His silence prompted me to risk a quick glance up at him, the open expression on his face encouraging me to voice my concerns.

“I looked up some stuff on the internet yesterday, and honestly, a lot of it was terrifying.”

A flicker of alarm danced over his face at my words but was quickly smothered and replaced by a look of curiosity, though an almost imperceptible tightness remained around his eyes as if he were bracing himself for rejection.

“What was it that scared you?”

“Well, umm… I read about the flogging and spanking, which was err… nice,” I began, fidgeting in my seat, earning a smile of genuine pleasure from him when I dared another brief glance at his face. “But some of the other stuff… clamps, hot wax, a-anal play… I don’t want to do any of those.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said as he set aside his fork, letting me know that I had his full attention. “You have the power here, Rachel.”

“But what if you want to? What if you want to do something that scares me? Aren’t I supposed to submit and obey you?” I asked, my words coming rushed and breathy as I became flustered.

“Slow down, Rachel. Take a breath and calm down,” he said, waiting until I had visibly relaxed a little before continuing. “I want to make something perfectly clear to you. There is a difference between being domineering and being Dominant. I’d like to think of myself as being the latter, and I have spent many years striving to become the best Dominant that I can. Being a Dominant does not give me carte blanche to do whatever I please.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that while I want to have control over your pleasure and pain, I also want to protect you and teach you. I want to show you things that can bring you great pleasure, and through your pleasure and submission I can also find pleasure. However, this doesn’t mean that I would ever force you to do something that you didn’t want to, or force myself on you in any way.” He paused for a moment as if carefully considering his words.

“Your submission is a gift, but also a responsibility. By submitting to me you are accepting the power that it gives you. Yes,
you
have the power here, not me. You’re the one who decides what is too much, what I may and may not do to you.”

“So you don’t want to control me?” I asked feeling thoroughly confused.

Did he want to do those things I had read about, or was he just interested in spanking and flogging? The abundance of toys in his basement led me to believe that he was looking for more than just a little slap and tickle, but I was unsure and so inexperienced that I was having trouble grasping the depth of his desires.

“I do, but not in the way that you’re thinking. I want to dominate you. I want you to submit to me and serve me as my submissive, but I have no desire to have absolute control over your life. You’re a smart young woman who is fully capable of making her own decisions, and it pleases me to see you do that,” he said with something akin to pride, which made me smile.

“I’m not interested in a Total Power Exchange where you would be my slave in all meanings of the word. That kind of relationship holds no allure for me. I want someone who can be my equal mentally and verbally, but who is willing to surrender their pleasure to me. And all of our interactions thus far lead me to believe that you could be that person.”

I felt myself blush at his words of praise, warm affection swelling in my chest.

“I’m sad to say that I have seen too many relationships where this is not the case. Where the Dominant is really just some jerk who gets off on hurting and controlling others. These kinds of people have no real regard for those who are submitting to them, or the precious gift that submission really is,” he said as he paused to take a drink of his juice. “People like this are rare, but unfortunately more common than they should be. We do our best to police ourselves, to educate each other, and to guide those who have perhaps been led astray, but there are times when individuals have to be told that they are not welcome within our community.”

“But what happens if you want to do something that I don’t?”

“We talk about it. We figure out what it is about that particular act that frightens you, and if there is anything we can do to ease those fears. If not, then we simply don’t do it, and move on to something else that we can
both
enjoy. I won’t hold it against you or punish you for refusing to do anything. Does that help ease some of your fear?”

“Yes. There are still things I’m not too sure about, but it does help.”

“Good, now eat your breakfast before it gets cold,” he said picking up his fork.

We finished our meal in comfortable silence, my initial fears soothed though my mind still turned at a furious pace.

It surprised me to no end to discover that this man who wanted to show me a dark and mysterious world was the one who would show me such tenderness and pleasure, while the boy whom I had foolishly thought loved me had shown me anger and inflicted pain. Pushing such troubling thoughts to the back of my mind I helped him clear the table and wash the dishes.

Handing me the last plate to dry he wiped his wet hands on a dish towel, and leaning back against the counter asked, “Would you like to join me in the shower?”

Almost dropping the plate in surprise I quickly recovered, and after wiping the last of the moisture away placed it carefully in the open cabinet.

“That would be nice.”

I hadn’t bathed with anyone since I was a little girl, and somehow I didn’t think this would be anything like that. I felt the usual stab of shyness at the thought of him seeming me fully naked, but also excitement at the opportunity to see all of him without the cover of night to hide the details of his body from me.

Following him up the stairs I once again marveled at the large tattoo covering his back and enjoyed watching the play of his muscles moving under his skin, remembering how they had felt beneath my fingertips as I rode him. My core tightened at the memory and I felt the telltale warmth and wetness of arousal between my thighs. This man was intoxicating unlike any other I had ever known, and I felt that I was truly in danger of becoming obsessed with him.

The master bathroom was connected to his bedroom through a short and narrow hallway that had built-in closets and open shelving on each side.

Wow, he’s even more OCD than I am!
I couldn’t help thinking as we passed through and I spied his clothes folded and hung in neat, organized rows.

Unsurprisingly the bathroom was as neat and beautifully decorated as the rest of the house. A long dark contemporary vanity with a white marble top and two frosted glass bowl sinks stretched along one wall. The shower stood opposite, easily large enough to fit at least four people, with a shower head at each end and one hanging from the ceiling in the center.

Turning on the shower he let the water run hot enough to steam up the glass before turning it back a notch and shedding his pajama pants in one fluid and nonchalant move. I stared at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed, unable to draw my gaze away from the dark hair between his thighs and the heavy length of his half-erect manhood. Obviously, he shared none of my qualms regarding nudity, and seemed to take pleasure in making me blush.

“Are you going to join me,” he asked, his teasing tone drawing my gaze away from his growing erection and up to his face. “Or would you just like to watch?” Arching his brow at me as if to say “Well?” he flashed me a devilish smile that made desire swell in the pit of my stomach.

Fumbling with the drawstring of my shorts I struggled with the knot he had tied, growling in frustration and embarrassment, knowing that he was watching me closely. Finally getting the knot untied I quickly shed the shorts and pulled the shirt off over my head before my nerves could overtake me.

It felt as if my blush extended from my cheeks all the way down to my toes, my entire body hot and tingling under the weight of his gaze as his eyes swept over me with unabashed hunger. Valiantly I fought the urge to cover my breasts and mound, knowing that the action was futile and silly.

“See something
you
like?” I asked while propping my hands on my hips in an attempt to hide the nervousness that roiled inside me.

Rather than answering me he ran his tongue along his lower lip and took a languid step towards me, his manner switching from teasing and playful to predatory and hungry. His eyes became hooded, their normally cool depths containing a ravenous heat that made my heart pound and my mouth go dry. As he took another step towards me I took one back, and then another, and another, as he stalked me across the bathroom until I was trapped with the cold marble top of the vanity pressing into my backside.

“Oh, I more than like what I see,” he rumbled darkly as he closed in on me, his body so close to mine that a deep breath would brush my tightening nipples against the coarse hair of his chest.

Swallowing thickly I looked up into his shadowed face, watching the muscles in his shoulders dance beneath his skin as he reached up to remove the tie from his hair and let it fall in a thick curtain around his shoulders. My fingers twitched at my sides with the desperate desire to run through his hair and grasp a thick handful of it at the nape of his neck, and drag his lips down to mine.

Encouraged by the hungry gleam in his eyes I threw caution to the wind and gave in to my desires. His hair was like sun warmed silk as it slid through my hands and brushed against the length of my arms. Running my fingers up the back of his neck I was rewarded with the sight of him closing his eyes and exhaling deeply in a long moan of pleasure. Twining my fingers through the baby soft curls at the base of his skull I tugged gently and brought his unresisting mouth down to mine, where I teasingly ran the tip of my tongue along the seam of his lips. For a moment he remained unmoving, letting me taste the swell of his lips, before his mouth opened and his tongue snaked out to brush against my own.