Chapter 13
SILAS
“You trust me?” Oakley asks as though he doesn’t know he is a mountain. Deliberate, powerful, kind.
As though he didn’t come down here with sex in his eyes.
“Of course I trust you. You would never hurt me in a way I would not want to be hurt, and you would never laugh at me. You would respect my boundaries.”
Oak clears his throat. “And what are your boundaries?”
I lift a shoulder. “No pictures. No consensual non-consent bullshit.” I stick out my tongue. “And I’m pretty sure I don’t want cum in my eyes.”
Oakley looks at me intently. I’m used to all kinds of stares. People can see that something is off about me, even if they don’t know exactly what. This isn’t that.
“Do you need to be dominated?” he asks carefully.
“In life? Fuck no.” I laugh thinking about it. “In bed? I’m pretty sure it would be helpful.”
“Pretty sure?”
“Yeah. I mean…Erik always says, ‘You can’t know what you don’t know.’ So I’ll hafta have sex before I know.”
Oakley takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. “You’ve never had sex?”
I shake my head. “Sartre was right. Hell is other people. Mostly. Not you though.”
Oakley sits with this for a moment.
“Does that shock you? That I haven’t had sex yet?” I smile. “Or that I want to have sex with you?”
His eyes track from my lips, down my neck, to my hands, and back up to my eyes. “I can tell you are attracted to me, though the fact that you haven’t had sex is a little shocking.”
“Why?”
“You are, not to put too fine a point on it, sex on a stick.”
“Sex on a stick would not be pleasant.”
He chuckles. “That is true. But…it seems you’re well-read on the subject.”
I nod. “I’m interested in it as a subject. Kink too. Though you don’t have to have sex to have kink.”
“Have you engaged in nonsexual kink with anyone?”
I shake my head.
His eyes fall to my lips. “Oh, right. Trust.”
“Exactly.” I run my tongue along my lower lip. “That’s why I mostly engage in self-pleasure. With a big dildo.”
His eyes find mine and his lips look like they want to smile.
“I take it that means you would like to try bottoming?”
I bounce on my toes. “Yes, please.”
There it is. Oakley’s smile. Amused but not judgmental. “With me?”
“Only with you.”
“Even though that means we’ll hafta tell Hedy? And that she may not let me work with you anymore?” He grimaces. “Or, more likely, that she may let me work with you even if she shouldn’t?”
“Are you forgetting Hedy’s motto?” I smile.
Oakley rolls his eyes. “This isn’t a legal operation, and ethics are a lot less concrete.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay then.” Oakley sways, then rights himself. “What would be most helpful, as far as kink is concerned?”
Is he nervous?
Interesting.
“I think the power exchange is going to be pretty important,” I say, mirroring his stance. “Sensory deprivation sounds nice. Blindfold, tied to the bed, noise-canceling headphones. I can come a bunch of times in a row, so forced orgasms could be fun.”
“And how do you want to signal that you like or dislike something?”
“A hard cock is a pretty good signal that I’m into it.”
He’s unimpressed with my answer.
It’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“You just said you don’t like the thought of consensual non-consent bullshit,” Oakley points out.
“That’s because it’s all pretend. If you’re only forcing me to do things because I’m letting you force me to do things, then…what’s the fun in that?”
He raises his brows.
“Fine. I can hold a ball.”
“Does this mean you might have been willing to put yourself, without any real experience, in situations where you didn’t have a clear way out if somebody was doing something you didn’t enjoy?”
I give him my best grin. The one that terrifies everybody.
It works. Desire flashes in his eyes.
“Oak?”
He shifts, as if reading me. “Yeah?”
“Do you really think there’s any situation I couldn’t get myself out of?”
He laughs, even as he shakes his head.
“Good point.” Scratching his ear, he asks, “If you can get out of any situation, then why is trust so important to you?”
Always with the good questions.
“It’s the first lesson Ant and Erik taught me. That I could trust them to love me, no matter what.”
His eyes, so wise, flash with understanding. “That kind of trust goes beyond knowing I’ll respect your boundaries.” He leans in, gently gripping my chin, tilting my face up. “That’s a relationship-level trust.”
Oakley explores me with a look that peels away every layer I’ve got. I can feel it in my blood cells. “Yes,” I say, my voice breathy. Hopeful.
“Mm.”
He doesn’t ask a question, yet I feel as though he’s looking for a response.
“I suppose I don’t need a relationship—”
He interrupts me with a slow shake of his head.
“Try again.”
The air crackles with the words, the truth of it.
“I would like this to be more than”—I nearly choke on my words as his hand slides around to cup my jaw—“sex.”
“Good answer,” he whispers before placing a kiss on my lips.
Ah.
That feels…much nicer than I anticipated.
Sensual. Soft. Perfect.
My first kiss.
Oh, another one. I chase his lips when he pulls away.
“Was that okay?” he asks.
I nod, my head loose. We stand there for a few moments, studying each other.
“What’s next?” he asks, placing his words carefully.
“I’m hoping the next logical progression would be the bedroom.” I lift my hands. “I am big on your consent though. You tell me.”
Oak looks at the ground, smiling. “You say you want a relationship, but how do you feel about the ethics of me fucking you?”
“Because you diagnosed me?”
“Because my purpose in coming here today was to provide help and counsel after an incident.”
“But you haven’t done that yet,” I point out.
“Also true, but the intention was there.”
“Can’t intentions change?” I lean in, my mouth close to his. “I mean, you’ve already kissed me.”
Oakley doesn’t move to complete the kiss. He just keeps me there, suspended with a look.
“They can.” He kisses my nose. “And I did.”
“Huh?” I ask, lost in the smell of his expensive beard oil and his toothpaste.
His chuckle is a deep rumble in his chest. “Intentions can change, and I did kiss you.”
“What’s your intention for me now?” I ask.
Oakley’s massive chest expands. Deflates. Expands. His cheeks redden.
“I’d like to tie you to the bed, blindfold you, and fuck you into the mattress.”
My eyes go into the black.
He doesn’t flinch.
He doesn’t look away.
“Yeah?”
Oakley’s smile softens. “Yeah.” He presses his forehead to mine, wrapping his arms around me. “Come here, my beautiful monster.”
I allow myself to be pulled into his all-encompassing warmth. He is as strong as his father, but well padded. Hot like a Texas spring and just as lovely.
I smile and push my face into his neck. He smells like both the forest and the ocean.
“You say monster with so much affection,” I respond, my words muffled.
“Mm.” He sways minutely from side to side, tightening his grip on me. “I do have a lot of affection for you.”
I don’t know that anyone’s ever said that to me before.
Then again, no one’s ever held me like this before.
At a minimum, this definitely stopped being a hug about thirty seconds ago.
Remembering his words, I jerk back, my eyes still black.
“Then, could you please, affectionately, tie my ass to the bed and fuck me into it?”
There is no teasing this time. He answers with a deep, drowning kiss, pulling me so close I feel like I’m melding into his body. There is nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s powerful. And overpowering. His hands are on my body like they belong there.
He’s one of the few people strong enough to be a threat. I feel so safe. Safe enough to respond in kind. I arch into him, kissing him back with everything I’ve got.
All my life, the mental health professionals could only talk about the rage. The anger. The frustration.
No one ever speaks about the other side of that coin. If I can rage like a sun going supernova, I can feel and desire as deeply as the moon-drenched night.
Our kisses are lush. Decadent. We barely stop to breathe.
I wonder, again, if he’d ever let me choke someone to death while he fucked me.
Inside thought.
Oakley’s still kissing me, but suddenly, words are coming out of his mouth. “You haven’t had sex, but have you ever been tested?”
“Last month at my physical. Negative.”
He bites his lip. “Three weeks ago at mine. Negative.”
I grin.
“What?”
I bite my lip. “Cum dump is one of my fantasies.”
All of a sudden, his tongue is in my mouth, his hands rough, slipping past my underwear to squeeze my ass, a thick finger stroking my hole.
“Best guess— Are you a pure submissive? Or…”
I pull away to ensure he’s looking at me when I say this next part.
“I can’t ever be in charge.” I pause to make extra sure he’s paying attention. “You understand why, right?”
“You might accidentally kill me.”
“And even if it were an accident, I’d like it. I’d keep going and come inside you as your heart stopped.”
Oakley pulls away, and I’m convinced I’ve really fucked it up this time.
Why would I say that?
I would probably be able to stop myself before I actually killed him.
No, definitely.
I would definitely be able to stop myself before I killed him.
His laughter takes me out of the spiral.
“You are so adorable.”
“I’m an Apex predator.”
“You can be both things at once.”
His hand goes around my throat. I open my mouth, anticipating.
“Breath play?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Bondage? Forced orgasms? Blood?”
“Yes, yes, best not. Might be like blood in the water for a shark.”
His hands are huge, and when he applies pressure to my neck, I immediately feel lightheaded.
This is what I’ve always needed.
Suddenly, we’re moving in the direction of my bedroom.
“You’re okay with at least a little bit of light in your room?”
Gasping, I point to the salt lamps on either side of my bed.
He releases his hold on my neck, moving quickly to turn them on. “Handcuffs? Lube?”
“Side table.” I bite my lip, then say, “Just don’t treat me like a virgin, okay?”