Waiting for Me (6 page)

I rose smoothly, walking to the French doors that led to the patio. To oxygen, since
all the air seemed to have vacated the room. “I’m not broken.” The breeze was warm
and distracting, holding the morning notes of dogs being walked and surfers headed
toward Pleasure Point right down the street. The weather, the birds, the light floral
scent of roses beside the hot tub—all of it was preferable to telling Melissa the
truth. I’d let Delilah seep in like a poison and I was spiraling down a rabbit hole
that didn’t lead to my paradise; a place of belts and restraints and safe words. A
place that had always been an escape for me, and to my knowledge, my lovers as well.
Delilah ripped that all away, dumping me into a hell of my own creation.
Hurting women...that makes you just like –

I didn’t say the bastard’s name.

I couldn’t.

So I told the truth.

“I’m broken.”

I almost thought I’d screamed the words, but my lips were clamped together, so ready
to revert back to safe haven. The comfort behind the walls I built to keep my emotions
at bay. But the words escaped. Low and earnest. Barely above a whisper.

I faced Melissa, wondering if she heard. Difficult to decide whether I wanted her
to hear or not.

Her eyes told me she did.

She shrugged her shoulders, but we both knew it was a big deal. The air was charged
now. Electric.

“I’m broken too,” she said quietly. “You were right about my dad. About Jason.”

She threw back the rest of her orange juice like there was something else in the glass
besides Vitamin C. Something to give her strength. “As far back as I can remember,
all I’ve wanted was my dad’s approval. It was just the two of us, so I cooked, I cleaned,
I got good grades, I stayed out of trouble.

My dad owns a marketing firm, so it’s all about appearance. On the outside, we were
happy. I was happy. He smiled and joked when we were around other people.” Her voice
wavered. “Sometimes I’d forget it was all a show. Fake. I’d let myself believe that
he cared about me. I mean, of course he cares about me, it’s just—” She let out an
abrupt, unnerving chuckle, hopping to her feet. “God. Even now I’m making excuses.
I was so desperate for someone to want me, to notice, that I didn’t stand a chance
when Jason finally asked me out.”

Just the sound of his name a second time was enough to make my fists clench and my
mouth narrow into a scowl.

“How can I blame him?” she said bitterly. “It’s no wonder he—”

“Don’t you dare,” I said tersely, capturing her hand. I interlaced our fingers and
drew her in until her body was against mine. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with
you.”

She nuzzled me. “How about you?”

I planted a kiss on the top of her head and lingered, breathing in the warmth of her.
“Apparently, I’m broken,” I joked.

She pushed my chest, nothing joking in the gesture. Her palms were firm and insistent,
her eyes blue, unyielding slits. “Talk to me, Logan.”

Being open and vulnerable was so foreign, so fucking terrifying that I reverted to
annoyance. “What do you want me to say? That it sucked to hear that something that
I take seriously, that means a lot to me, was totally wasted? That she thinks I wanted
to hurt her? That pain is somehow part of the package?”

“Well, isn’t it?”

I took a step backward and drew a steadying breath before I answered. “It’s about
more than just pain, Melissa. More than control.” She looked genuinely curious, so
I kept going. “A lot of people are under the impression that it’s about a man being
in complete and utter control of his woman. That my word is law. But for me, it’s
not like that. That’s not what gets me off about the kink. For me, there’s nothing
sexier than a woman sensing a submissive need inside herself. To completely lose herself
in the throes of passion and trust that her lover knows what she needs to help her
find her bliss. I don’t force anyone to submit. I don’t do this for a license to hurt
my lover or act out some latent sadist desire. I take control, but only when a woman
is strong and confident enough in herself and her sexuality to give it.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d spoken those words, explained how I was different than
other Doms and what to expect from me, but it was the first time that I found my stomach
knotting, needing her to understand. Needing to be right for her.

Her face was guarded and unreadable. “And what is expected of me?”

“More than anything, honest communication,” I replied. She gave me a ‘no duh’ look,
but I just stared right back. The run-in with Delilah was proof that these things
needed to be said and understood. I circled Melissa slowly, watching her defenses
go up, her body alert as I took her in with my eyes, then slowly, touch. My fingers
kissed her soft skin. She came alive for me instantly, but she tried to cover her
gasp by clearing her throat.

“It’s your job to be open,” I continued, drawing my touch to her spine. “About what
turns you on. What turns you off.” I rested my hand on her lower back, drinking in
the round curve of her ass. “Your hard limits.” I squeezed the right globe of her
bottom—hard. “Your soft limits—places and things, you are wary about, but willing
to try to expand your horizons.”

She gave me a pointed look, eyes hot with arousal. “And how am I supposed to—” She
bit off a moan as I brought her closer, the lines of her body matching mine perfectly.
“How am I supposed to talk to t-think with your hands all over me?”

I traced the curve of her bottom lip with my thumb, already making plans for her hot
little mouth. “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you look so goddamn
sexy?”

“Sexy?” she frowned in disbelief, using the little space that remained between us
to gesture at her body. “In a wrinkled button down shirt?” She fondled her tresses
gingerly. “Greasy hair?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled down at her, undoing each button, one by one. “But your sexiness
is so much more than how hot you look in one of my shirts, or how your tousled, wild,
hair would look fisted as I take you from behind.” I drank in the contrast of her
pale pink nipples against the starch white of my shirt and the way her breath hitched
when I gripped it tight. She looked at me from behind hooded eyes, the moan at the
back of her throat going straight to my balls. “It’s in your gaze. Curiosity, fear,
lust, and fight. I want to be the one that answers those questions for you, calms
your fears, give you indescribable pleasure, and shows you that it’s okay to trust
again. That you’re safe with me.”

She planted both hands firmly on my chest separating herself from me. She was clearly
waging some internal war as to whether she could trust me or if these were just words
I was spouting off.

“Listen to your body. Hell, listen to mine.”

When she gave me her signature stubborn glare, I pulled her toward me, leading her
hand to my raging hard cock.

I was always better at showing than telling. Her eyes registered surprise, then the
blue irises caught fire, burning with a lust that echoed my own. She gripped my cock
tight, her fingers drawing up and down the swollen length.

A low groan rumbled through me. “You see what you do to me, Melissa? This thing that
burns between us is more powerful than anything I’ve ever known.”

The last bonds of doubt were broken as she arched her body into mine, raising her
mouth toward mine, giving her beautiful lips to me. As much as I wanted to ravage
her, thrust my tongue into her mouth, leave her breathless as I swept her up and took
her on the island countertop, there was something I needed even more.

“I want you to offer your submission to me.”

She gaped at me like I wasn’t speaking English. “What?”

“I want you to understand what you’re agreeing to. This is more than kinky sex. It’s
intense. Sometimes painful. And it’s more than a physical connection; it’s psychological.”
Delilah’s words festered, the wound still raw. “I want you to know what I am, and
what I’m not.”

Her eyes softened as she stroked my cheek. “I know who you are, Logan. And I won’t
pretend I’m an expert at this, but I know that being with you, being your submissive,
feels right.” She gave me a steely look of determination. “I’m offering my submission.”

My pulse raced, my cock thumping in approval. I offered her my hand. “Good girl.”

****

W
e were no strangers to my bedroom, but the taut, unspoken excitement that electrified
the silence was proof that this would be different. Tonight, she would be mine.

I rested my hand on the small of her back and her nerves rippled through my fingers.

“Relax,” I whispered softly.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she fired back, throwing me a wary look over her shoulder.
“You know what comes next.” Her voice turned cautious. “I’ve never...I don’t...”

I pulled her into my arms, planting a kiss on her forehead, then a lingering one on
her lips. I held her close, tight, until she exhaled and I felt her relax into the
embrace. She stole a look up at me, her sky blue eyes studying me with curiosity.

“What?” I fondled a loose blonde tress that drifted onto her cheek.

“I just expected you to be different once I said yes.” Her cheeks burned hot. “More
stern.”

“Bend you over and spank your ass until it’s as bright red as your face?” I winked,
enjoying giving her a hard time. When she nudged me with her elbow, my little fighter,
unwilling to budge or back down even when faced with the unknown, a fierce need gripped
me and didn’t let go. This ache in the familiar part of me collided with a throb in
my chest that wasn’t so familiar. There was nothing like the first time with a new
submissive, but I wasn’t stubborn enough to deny that this excitement was different.

We hadn't even begun and she already possessed all of my senses. The warm scent of
her tousled hair beckoned me when I swept it to the side. I wanted nothing between
us as I  planted my lips on her skin. I could taste her excitement, the delicious
anticipation as she leaned into my touch. When I roped her waist and pulled her back
against me, against the raging hard need that pierced my pants, she released a low,
tantalizing moan.

My other hand slid down the opening of her shirt, gripping her breast. I circled her
nipple, loving how hard her peaks were for me. So perky and attentive. Just when she
was starting to lose it, grinding her ass against me, I released my savage hold on
her nipple. I found the other was just as eager, swollen for my touch. As soon as
her moans built to a fever pitch, I released it. Her groan of protest, complete with
a frustrated pout, shot right to my balls.

“No fair,” she whispered, turning her intense blue eyes on me. In that moment, I saw
more openness, more vulnerability than ever before.

“While we're in this moment, this scene, fair is irrelevant.” Even though a storm
of lust was wreaking havoc inside me and I wanted nothing more than to bend her over
and fuck her until she called on every deity in existence for deliverance, I needed
to dominate her. I needed to see the moment it all clicked into place and she realized
the power in submission, the beautiful gift she was giving me—and the life altering
pleasure I'd give her in return.

My cock protested when I put distance between us, but it had to be done. As much as
I wanted to caress her and watch her come undone in my hands, it was important to
establish the scene and our place in it. The rules needed to be explained before we
got carried away and safe words and limits were thrown to the wind.

I needed to let her know who was in charge.

I circled her slowly, my eyes roving over her body. Her face was flush with arousal,
the pink heightened in her cheeks. Lips trembling. If I fisted her hair and pulled
her back until we were eye to eye, I knew her pupils would be dilated. And if I yanked
down her pants and shoved my fingers in her pussy, she’d coat them in her juices.

I drew a sobering breath, calming myself. This wasn't my first time around the D/s
block, but I was forgetting my own rules. I wanted to fuck her so bad it hurt, but
I wouldn't bring her into my world until she knew what to expect.

I continued my rotation, a hawk hunting its prey. Learning her, reading her, before
I struck. “I'll take it easy on you the first time. But be warned—when we're in the
scene, I'm your Dom and you're my submissive. You've offered your submission to me
and in return, I'll never give you more than you can bear.” I paused in front of her,
owning her gaze. “That being said, you can always end whatever erotic act I'm doing
to you with a single word: red.”

“Red,” she repeated hoarsely, trying the word on for size as she licked her lips.
“And what if I want to keep going?”

I brushed her cheek with my knuckle. “Don't you worry about that, love. I have every
intention of going, taking, and owning your body. We'll learn your limits together—just
make sure you're honest with yourself and me and use the safe word when you need to.”

She gave me a crisp nod. I nearly picked her up and threw her over my knee for the
insubordinate act, but realized I'd neglected that formality.

I crossed my arms. “When we're in the scene, you will address me as Sir. Failure to
do so is disrespectful and will be punished accordingly. And when I speak to you,
I want your hands behind your back and your eyes always on me. Understood?”

I saw societal conventions and feminist theory balking in her head. At face value,
I got it. To an outsider, a woman being submissive to her lover flew in the face of
equality. But this wasn't a college lecture hall...this was my bedroom. And there
was nothing sexier than a woman that knew her body and what it needed and had the
strength to admit it needed something kinky and taboo.

I narrowed my eyes, still waiting for her answer. Finally, she raised her chin and
replied clear as a bell, “Yes sir.”