Denial (25 page)

His face is peaceful, his eyelids hiding the beautiful kaleidoscope of colors beneath them. I kiss them and everything else. He smiles as I rub the tip of my nose back and forth over his. I want to let him drift off feeling safe and happy.

But I can’t because my emotions get the better of me and I kiss him. For real. I’d like to blame it on my libido, but it’s coming from somewhere else. He kisses me back effortlessly for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the forbidden nature of this embrace. My tongue slides along his as I wrap my fingers into his hair. He inhales sharply, trying to flee but I was prepared to resist.

It doesn’t work for long. His fingers close around my wrist but his lips don’t leave and he’s kissing me back fiercely. The conflicting desires he’s experiencing are cutting off circulation to my throbbing hand, but I don’t care in the slightest. To my disappointment, duty wins out and he pulls my arm away, pushing me backwards.

“Maya, don’t make this—”

I lurch forward, capturing his mouth with mine. Any resistance he was clinging too is gone. His fingers gently tug at my hair and he pulls me closer, his mouth taking control of the kiss as I yield. It just feels right. His tongue is supposed to be on mine, his body next to mine. I know it and he does too. It’s undeniable. Yet he breaks away and I cry out because it physically hurts whenever he stops touching me and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Isaac,” I whine.

My chest is heaving as he stares at me, this strange mixture of emotions on his face that makes me terribly guilty, but it’s beyond my control. He comes back with a forceful impact, groaning as his mouth possesses mine. The hand in my hair moves to my shoulder and pushes me back, his other fist catching me before I’ve had a chance to miss his grasp.

“I want to watch you scream.” I almost come from that voice.

I’m tempted to tell him to stop, that this isn’t why I was kissing him. But my body tells me to shut the fuck up. That enticing, crooked smile plays on his lips as he reaches beneath my waistband and finds me throbbing and aching for his touch. An animalistic groan erupts from deep inside of me when he makes contact, a sound I never knew I was capable of making until he touched me. He teases me once, taking me to the precipice and stilling, kissing my lips as they beg him for release. When he pulls away, his eyes lock with mine and he brings me to climax with a flick of his fingers, his fist tightening in my hair.

It shatters me into a billion pieces as I call out his name, writhing, screaming, begging for more. He gives me another one, watching me the entire time, the look of primal lust on his face colliding with a softness that takes over as he
pulls me closer to his chest. The way he holds me afterwards, I’m not sure I’ll be able to live without it.

“Now go to sleep,” he orders, kissing me
hungrily. It can’t be the last time I’ll feel his lips on mine. It just can’t. I want to explain that I didn’t care about getting off. So I surprise him, scooting up, sliding my arm under his neck and pulling his face against my chest. “Stop it. You’ve had enough.”

“It’s called cuddling, Isaac. I wasn’t shaking you down for orgasms.” I can’t stop kissing the top
of his head. He smells delicious. Spice, musk, sex, and food. His face nestled in my neck, fingers in the length of my hair. “Come here,” I peep.

“We have to stop doing this,” he mumbles into my chest.

But after a moment, his face lifts, eyes closed. My lips greet it warmly, especially this furrowed brow that relaxes slightly beneath every peck. He’s so tense. “Relax
.
” He nods, yet even though his arms pull me even closer I can feel every muscle in his body tense and strained. He’s squirming in my arms, each breath nearly a groan, like this hurts.

“Ju
st hold still until you like it,” I say firmly. “It will feel good in a second. I promise.”

A smile breaks across his face. “Fuck,” he laughs.

“How many times did you say to me that last night?” I tease.

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Exactly.”

He catches my wrists and hesitates, but leaves my fingertips free to graze his stubbly jaw. I watch him tumble down the rabbit hole and release his hold. Touching him is such a treat. Every little morsel is so carved and defined. Some of them are so much more sensitive than others. I nuzzle, kiss, and caress his beautiful face, his thick dark hair, his sinewy neck and shoulders until his breathing is long and sleepy, his body lax in my arms.

“Maya…” His fingers toy with mine until he falls asleep. Why is this so satisfying? He’s so peaceful. Energy builds deep in my belly, blossoming to my throat. This isn’t real. It can’t be. Don’t mistake compassion and infatuation for more than what it is.

20

I wonder if I’ll feel numb inside like this every time we’re done in the playroom. My skin is tingling everywhere, except for my ass where it stings. And I’m so uneasy, shaken. I just want to curl up in a ball in the bed.

“We did very well today,” he mumbles. “You did. Are you alright?”

No
. I’m not sad or angry, but I’m still about to cry. A little hollow inside. Disconnected. “I’m fine,” I lie poorly. “Goodnight.”

“You’re not allowed to lie to me.”

“I just don’t want to talk about it.” He waits. “Sir.”

“Why are you going into your room? I didn’t tell you to go to bed yet.”

“You mean this isn’t over? Aren’t we done after the playroom?”

“Done? There is no done. That’s the point of living this.”

My chest gets heavy. “So, what does that mean? You get to come into my room at night?”

“Yes. That’s what we’re doing here. You willingly gave yourself to someone who gave you to me. To use for sex.” Whenever he phrases so bluntly like that, I get a little nauseous. “Well, that’s what we’re supposed to be doing, if I hadn’t fucked everything up. It’s what we are officially doing.”

“So, what, if I didn’t have a sandpaper vagina and screwed up your cock you’d be waking me up at night to fuck me whenever you felt like it?”

His eyes bug out of his head like he’s enraged, but a wide smile crosses his face. “You leave me speechless, do you know that? All fucking day. I’m assuming there was supposed to be a ‘timeout!’ before that statement.”

“Timeout,” I say sarcastically, sticking my tongue out. He ignores the outburst.

“We’re not even supposed to be doing timeouts. And if you were to speak like that to me under normal circumstances, which no other woman would ever dare, I’d be dragging you into the playroom, giving you 20 lashes with a cat of nine tails and then follow up with something really demented.” I stiffen up as my eyes burn. “One, there is nothing wrong with your vagina. That was my fault, but we’ll save the lecture on duration, lubrication,
friction, and the water content of female ejaculate for another time. I knew it was happening and I didn’t give a fuck.” I try to say something but he cuts me off. “Two, yeah, tonight I probably would keep you up tonight to fuck you, normally.”

My pussy swells as I swallow my anger. “In my room?”

He hesitates. “I’d call you out first and take you on the bed in the playroom. You’re supposed to find this all arousing, by the way.”

I can’t answer him, because I find it arousing and infuriating at the same time. “Is that what you’re used to? Just having your way with someone.”

“It’s not usually my way,” he replies softly, after a moment. “I feel like an actor most of the time. And ideally I leave the submissives alone at night unless it’s part of the program.”

“Who designs the program?”

“I do. It has to be regimented. Controlled. Even the sex itself is scripted, in a sense, especially if it’s something I’m not into. Along the frequency, intensity, duration, it all has a purpose. Like everything else.”

“Did you come up with something for me?” I peep.

“I tried. It’s not working out that well.”

“Why didn’t he give me to someone who always works with novices?” I can’t believe I’m talking about myself like this.

“Luke and I didn’t talk about this beforehand. He didn’t pick me. He gave you to my father, who assigned you to me, and you are extremely fucking lucky that’s how it worked out if you want honesty.”

“Am I getting special treatment? Is that why I’m not with the novice trainer?”

“A breaker.”
Seriously?
“Yes, as in one who breaks the spirit of others, though most of the guys do that part themselves.” That’s comforting. “You’re too good to go to them.”

“Why?”

“Do you actually want to discuss the complexities of class systems and gender relations right now?” he snaps.

I would love to have that discussion with you one day
. “Don’t get so angry at me.”

He takes a few forced even breaths. “The official girlfriends and wives of the men that hire me aren’t typically involved in my world. I doubt most of them know it exists. There’s no category for you. No one specializes in this.”

“What do you specialize in?”

Shame contorts his features as he turns his head away. “I fine tune high end toys. Draw your own conclusions.”

In other words, there are low end toys. Because some people are just objects in this is fucked up, twisted fantasy world Luke disappears to. I don’t want to be an object. I don’t want to be a toy. I just wanted him to love me again.

“Well, it sounds like you have a fun job,” I whisper, after an awkward silence.

“It was. Then I got a promotion.”

I won’t bother asking because he ‘can’t tell’ me. “I’m tired, Sir.”

Isaac winces. “Me too. Fucking exhausted. But I want to keep looking at your face.”

Me too. It’s a beacon of light in the dark. I want to touch you. I want you to hold me while I sleep again.
“Goodnight, Isaac.”

He should stop me, make me wait until he tells me too, chastise me. “Goodnight, Maya.”

After inappropriately lengthy eye contact, I cross over the threshold into this empty sanctuary. Why couldn’t we have screwed in his room that first time? I have to think about it constantly whenever I’m in here.

I’m supposed to wear my necklace when I sleep, but I can’t. It does get tangled up in my hair, but I don’t think that’s why it feels like it’s choking me. This bed is very comfortable, but all the prohibitively expensive down filled comforters in the world wouldn’t soothe me now. This is the first night I’ll sleep in here by myself, the longest I’ll go without Isaac to distract me from all the reasons I should walk out of here in the morning.

He was so formal in the playroom tonight. Hell, he was too professional all day except when we cooked. Hollow and disconnected. I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be. I should be used to it, Luke’s like that more and more now since we started doing this. But it didn’t bother me, I just felt like I was growing up for real because we were talking about our relationship like it was permanent. It didn’t feel like there was anything missing until a few days ago. I can’t stand seeing Isaac like that.

I want to go home. This bed is nicer, but it isn’t mine. And it’s lonely. The door to my room opens with a low click that cuts through the silence. I turn to see light filtering in, outlining the perfect body of the only person who could have opened it. My cheeks flush and I grin at him, unable to see if he’s smiling back.

“Hi,” I peep.

“Hi.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I want you.”

I was offended when we talked about it. Now that he’s actually here and he said it like that, I can see how people get into this. “You can’t fuck me.”

“I know. That’s why I let myself come in here.”

My pulse quickens. “So what are you going to do to me?”
I’ll let you do anything you want
. Especially if I get to come.

He doesn’t answer for a while, just stands in the doorway with his face concealed in the shadows. I want to see him.
Come in my room. Please.
“You aren’t wearing your necklace.”

“I don’t wear it when I sleep.”

“Never?” he asks. I nod. “You’re supposed to.”

“I don’t.”

A flash of light reflects off his teeth as he dips his head laughing. “If you don’t like doing what you’re told, why do you do this?”

“Do you like doing what you’re told?”

“No, but I don’t get off on being submissive.”

“You said you’ve done it before.”

“Stop steering this conversation away from yourself.”

“What do you want me to say? I like it in bed. I keep waiting to like it outside of that. It’s not happening,” I explain. He laughs, shaking his head looking downwards. “What?”

“Me too.”

I sit upwards. Holy shit I want him to fuck me right now. My pussy is so swollen it feels like it’s going to explode. “Why are you just standing there?”

“I’m not sure. I couldn’t stand being alone in my bed knowing that you were on the other side of the wall.”