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I brought in our bags and fired up the wood stove in some effort to settle her. She perched on the edge of the bed while I double-checked the locks and shut the window blinds.
“Are we— Do we follow our rules here?” she asked. “The rules we follow in the guest room?”
I turned back to her, considering. “I don’t think this weekend should be about D/s, but I like being in charge of you. I think everything works better between us when I’m in charge.”
“When you’re around me I feel like you’re in charge,” she said.
“Someone can be in charge though, and not abusive. I have authority over you but…”
“But I have power too. I know.” She didn’t say it in a smartass way. She stood and crossed to me, and took my hand. “I don’t know how I’m going to thank you for all this, for all the help you’ve given me. You’ve changed me. Even if this doesn’t end up working…”
I studied her as she skittered away from me again. “Do you think it’s not going to work?”
Ashleigh shrugged and stood near the window, peering out through a crack in the blinds. “My dance teacher wrote me. I know that you sent money to her.”
“She deserved it. She helped you.”
“So what can I do for you?” she asked. “What can I possibly do for you, to thank you?”
“Get better. That’s all. Get better and be happier. You deserve a happy life.”
“Like yours?”
I slowed on the way across the room. “Well, yes. Like mine. A life where you feel comfortable and content. Where you have all the things you want, the relationships you want, all of that.” I was the world’s biggest hypocrite and liar, holding my life up as an example of happiness. But we weren’t here to fix my issues. We were here to fix hers.
When I reached her I tilted her face to mine in the dim light. “You’re so beautiful, Ash. You always have been. If I changed you in some way that makes your life better, that’s all I need as thanks.”
I stared down at her, at her pale blue-gray eyes and her sensual lips. There was a time I’d thought of her as an object too. If she hadn’t been troubled and sad, and damaged due to her childhood, what would our relationship have been like? I would have fucked her that night, I was sure. And since she was mostly vanilla, that probably would have been it. I wouldn’t have given her my number, even if the sex was really awesome. I might have noticed her in ballets now and again, remembering our torrid night together. It would have been easy and pleasant. I wouldn’t have had to spend the last few weeks fighting with myself, questioning all my life choices. I definitely wouldn’t be standing here now, half afraid it would work and half afraid it wouldn’t.
If it worked, I would have to start letting her go.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. I didn’t know where the words came from, I just knew I meant them passionately. Maybe, more accurately, I could have said I love you because the sentiment was the same. Holy God.
“You won’t hurt me.” She gave me a tremulous smile. “I feel really ready. You’ve been a great teacher.”
I traced her brow, then cupped her cheek and kissed her parted lips. It was so quiet, so still. No hovering Mem, no parties, no music blasting in the background, no computer, no TV, and for her, no backstage hustle-bustle. She smelled like flowers and baby powder and her hair felt like silk. I’d never brought anyone here to my hideaway because I didn’t think they’d appreciate it, but Ashleigh belonged here. If it wasn’t so cold I would have taken her outside under the stars and made love to her on the ground, on the earth. This is what it should be like, I would have told her. Beautiful and fearless, tender and affectionate and rough and elemental…
“Ashleigh,” I sighed. “I want you. I want to hold you down and be inside you. I won’t hurt you, I swear.”
She blinked at me, then stared down at my chest. I owed her a big seduction—she deserved a big seduction—but I felt too raw to work my game on her. That was for other girls. With Ashleigh I wasn’t a player, but someone else. A lover. A friend. “Are you ready now?” I asked. My voice sounded strained, almost desperate.
“We should get it out of the way, huh?” She gave me a comic, panicked look that started both of us laughing.
“Yes, let’s get it over with,” I said, playing along with her. “The sooner the better.”
We undressed, layers of clothing coming off until we were skin to skin. I felt pressure, yes, but I also felt an almost painful lust. We’d had weeks of foreplay, lessons on personal boundaries and consent, explorations into the lifestyle. I was achingly hard from wanting her. I nudged her back onto the bed and lay down beside her. She squiggled right against me, into the circle of my arms, seeking protection or encouragement. I drew her close and hugged her tight.
“We can go slow,” I said. “We can take our time. All the time you need. We can do it an hour from now. We can do it tomorrow.”
“No,” she said. “Now. Please. I know I’m ready. I’m not scared.”
“You feel a little scared. You’re shivering.”
“I’m nervous, not scared. It’s not the same.” She reached between us, taking my cock in her hands, and smiled as she noted its rigid length. “You don’t feel scared or nervous. At all.”
That touch alone was almost enough to set me off. “I’m not nervous, no. I’m turned on like hell because you’re so lovely, so beautiful. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“Just don’t…” Her confidence seemed to waver for a moment. “Please just…be careful. Don’t be too rough.”
I won’t be like him. Never like him. “Ashleigh, look at me.” I held her close, cupped her face and ran my thumb across the satiny texture of her cheek. “Just remember, the fear is all in your head. Don’t hang on to those old wounds, those old experiences. Let them go. It’s here. It’s now. I’m here and I want to make you feel good. Trust me to be careful with you.”
“I know. I know you’ll be careful.” She touched my cock again, cradling it in her hands. “I know I’m ready. I’m just a little nervous now that the moment is here.”
“Baby…” I was going to come in a second, if she didn’t stop stroking me. She’d gone on the Pill so we didn’t have to use a condom, but I almost wished for one, to desensitize me, to help me last a little longer. I worried that as soon as I got inside her I’d go off like a bomb. “Baby, I want to touch you first, make you feel good. Make you feel excited for me.”
I knew all the spots that got her hot and wet. I kneaded her ass and pinched her nipples, reveling in her responsiveness. She’d come so far in her ability to enjoy this, to trust me, and I wanted to be worthy of that trust. I ran a hand down her body, from her sculpted shoulder to her beautifully shaped breasts and down to her flat, tight stomach. I parted her pussy lips, finding her clit, moving my hips against hers. I just want to help you. I just want to help you…
She was wet, so wet. I grasped my cock and nudged her legs open, settling her onto her back. “Look at me,” I said. “Everything will be okay.”
Her eyes fixed on mine, wide and intent with feeling. Her fingers dug into my arms but she didn’t fight my forward motion. She was breathing fast and hard as I arched my hips against hers and eased into her oh, so slowly. I studied her face, noting every flitting twitch and expression. Every second felt like an hour because I was so afraid of losing her. I was afraid of her calling everything to a halt, jumping up and running away, but she didn’t. She smiled at me and moved her fingers down to my hips, pulling me deeper inside her. That pressure of her fingers—it was the most wonderful feeling in the history of the earth.
“Oh, baby, wow.” My voice rasped between us in the silence. I could have died from the tightness of her pussy. She said something in reply, yes or oh. I could barely think to decipher the sounds. I stroked her hair and leaned down to kiss her, intently, then voraciously. As I explored her sweet mouth, my cock found her center, pressing deep. We were fully joined together, my pulsing hardness embedd
ed in her heat.
After so many days, so many hours of effort, we were connected with nothing but trust between us. She stared up at me, and I swear the deeper I thrust inside her, the deeper I fell in love with her.
It was disaster, and bliss.
*** *** ***
Liam, Liam, Liam… I’d feared panic and terror-filled blindness, but my only thought was Liam. He was above me, around me, pushing into me and it didn’t hurt.
So this was sex. Making love. It was wonderful. It felt like force and yet it felt beautifully tender, like being hugged from the inside. He was big and hard, but not scary. He cradled me in his arms and filled me until there wasn’t room for anything else. In, out, deeper and deeper. I wrapped my legs around his, needing him as close as possible, and even when he crushed me a little it felt okay.
I didn’t even care about a climax. I was too caught up in this amazing new world where sex wasn’t horrible and I didn’t feel the urge to run to the bathroom and vomit in revulsion. For the first time in my life, I was enjoying the experience of having a man inside me. That it was Liam—tall, strong, gentle, rough Liam—that made it even better. He drew my hands over my head and held them as he made love to me with infinite care. I tried to explain to him what I was feeling, in gasping, worshipful whispers, but then it all became too much for words. Pleasure took over, a building fullness above and beyond the fullness of his cock stretching me, and when it peaked…
I strained where his hands held me and shuddered as my pussy contracted around his length. He pressed inside me hard and rested his forehead against mine, and I felt so close to him, closer than I’d felt to anyone else in my life. Tears filled my eyes and squeezed from between my lids.
