Chapter 9
Addie
Michael barks out a laugh. His whole body softens, and then he’s holding out a hand to me. “Come here, Trouble.”
I take his hand and, with his guidance, settle across his lap.
He wraps the fingers of one hand around the top of both my wrists while his other arm stretches across my back to rest on my hip.
I relax into his chest, my head on his shoulder.
He’s so much bigger than I am, and I fit so snugly against his body.
Being this close to Michael is making my brain fritz. He’s always struggled with physical contact. We’ve only ever hugged or touched if he initiated it, and those instances were few and far between. I’m practically lying on him right now, and he seems more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.
I asked him why he needed me to make a list of my limits, but after I began researching, I understood immediately.
Sharing his limits with someone who understands the importance of such a thing would offer an immeasurable amount of comfort for him.
Until recently, I hadn’t thought about how his aversion to being touched would impact his sex life.
Knowing he’s found an outlet gives me an odd sense of happiness…
that’s followed swiftly by jealousy of all the women he’s shared this part of himself with.
“What do soft limits mean to you?” Michael’s question pulls me from my thoughts.
“I consider them my yellow light limits. I’m nervous about them, and I’m not sure if I’d enjoy them. They’re the ones I’d be okay with never experiencing if you didn’t want to do them, but I’m willing to try if you want to.”
His lips press against my forehead, and I’m pretty sure my heart just melted into a puddle. Not a single moment of this feels real.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Adalaide. I should’ve known you’d take this seriously even if you gave me shit for assigning you homework.”
I huff out a laugh. “I didn’t understand at first, but once I started researching about BDSM, it all made sense. Will you explain your touching limit in more detail? I don’t want to do anything that’s going to bother you.”
“Hands. I have a difficult time with hands being on me unless I’m prepared for it.”
I glance down at how he’s holding mine gently in his hand. “So you don’t mind my body being against yours, but if I randomly touch you with my hands, it’s triggering?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
There’s a long pause. “My stepdad used to gently rub my back or shoulder before stubbing out his cigarette against my skin.” Michael’s words send ice through my veins.
“He enjoyed playing mind games. Sometimes he’d gently touch me and then walk away, leaving me in heightened awareness of the pain that wouldn’t come.
Other times, he’d strike me without any warning.
It was always when I wasn’t paying attention, so I became hyperaware of my surroundings. ”
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I force them away. Michael isn’t looking for sympathy. He’s simply explaining the reason he is the way he is. I squeeze his hand instead of saying anything. I’m not sure I could cough out a word through the emotions clogging my throat anyway.
“You’re the only one who’s never made my skin crawl when we touch.”
I straighten to stare at Michael. It’s as if a bomb just dropped in the middle of the room. “It really feels that way when we hug you?”
He shifts the hand on my hip to brush the hair off my face. “It’s gotten easier over the years, but yes. I’ve never felt comfortable with physical affection. For some reason, you’re the only person who has never triggered my instinct to protect myself—with one minor exception.”
I frown at him, my silent question lining my face. His dark gaze softens, a self-deprecating smile quirking up the side of his mouth.
“That day you tried to kiss me and I flinched? I never imagined you’d ever want to, so I had no idea what you were doing, and my body reacted before I knew what was happening. Then you rushed off before I could explain.”
My jaw drops. “That’s why you recoiled?” God, it makes so much more sense now. “I always believed you were disgusted with the idea of kissing me.”
Michael snorts. “Hardly. I’d been thinking about it all summer but was terrified of how I would react to the touch. I’d never allowed anyone close enough to try it out. In fact, I didn’t have my first kiss until I went to the police academy.”
“No way.”
“It’s true. After what happened with you, I figured if I wasn’t ready to kiss the girl I’d been fantasizing about all summer, I definitely wasn’t going to try it with someone random.
For the record, my first kiss was horrible.
I’ve been kicking myself ever since that I couldn’t get my shit together enough to kiss you back. ”
“Wow. I thought you were horrified by the idea. You were so distant afterward.”
“I’m sorry, Trouble. I truly wish I could go back and do it differently.”
I take in the handsome man I’ve been in love with almost my whole life. “I don’t. I wasn’t mature enough to understand what you’d need from me. We both needed time to learn about ourselves first before we’d be successful together.”
“Is that what you want? To be together?”
I chuckle. “Michael, I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve years old and you patched up my skinned knee after I fell off my bike.
I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.
I don’t expect you to say anything in response, and I hope I don’t scare you away.
I just can’t miss the opportunity to put everything on the line so you know exactly where I’m at. ”
“Fuck, Adalaide. I envy your ability to dive headfirst into everything you do. Those words are hard for me. I was conditioned not to trust them, but know that I’ve carried you in my heart for years.”
“Kiss me, Michael.” The words are a whisper in the little space that remains between us.
He spears his hand into my hair, fisting the curls at the base of my head and pulling me into him.
He kisses me hard, as if he’s finally giving in to every desire he’s ever harbored for me.
The press of his lips against mine sends an explosion of sensations shooting through my body.
My stomach swoops, lust pooling low at my center and pounding into my clit with every beat of my heart.
He darts his tongue out to swipe at my lower lip. I gasp, opening my mouth to his invasion, and suddenly I’m lost in him. Our tongues tangle, dueling with each other until his comes out on top. The dominance in his kiss reminds me of the fantasies I want to explore.
Reading Michael’s list of limits opened so many doors for the things we could do together.
I’ve been flushed and turned on since I handed him my phone.
Allowing him to read my list was harder than I thought it would be.
I felt so vulnerable—until he gave me his list and the playing field was leveled.
I also felt a lot more comfortable moving forward with a sexual relationship with Michael, knowing exactly where his boundaries lie. I’m less worried about making a wrong move now that he’s explained where his hard limits stand.
Michael groans into my mouth when I suck on his tongue.
His hard length presses against the back of my thigh while he keeps hold of my hands.
I try to buck my hips to relieve the ache in my pulsing core, but the way he’s got me pinned, I have no hope of moving.
It’s only ratcheting up my desire to a fever pitch.
“Michael,” I moan, unsure of what I’m asking for.
“Tell me what you need, Trouble.”
I whimper. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to explode.”
Michael hums against my lips. The vibrations do something strange to my insides. Suddenly, he lifts me and switches our positions before I can process what happened. I’m sitting in the chair with Michael kneeling on the floor in front of me.
“What’s your safe word? What do you say to put a stop to everything immediately?”
“Red.”
“Good girl.”
I shiver at the praise.
“And will I be angry or disappointed if you use it?”
I shake my head.
“Words, baby.”
“No.”
“What color are you right now, Trouble?”
“Green. Bright, neon, flashing green.”
Michael’s smile is devastating. “That’s my girl.”
Then he’s dipping his hands into the waistband of my high-waisted leggings to drag them down my hips and over my thighs until I’m completely bare to my big brother’s best friend.
“Oh, fuck me,” I whisper.
Michael smirks. “Soon. But not tonight.” Before I can think about his words, he slides my hips to the edge of the chair. “Keep your hands on the armrests of the chair, Adalaide. It’s very important that you do not move them.”
“I understand.” I grip the edges of the chair to show him I’ll follow his instructions.
Then his thick fingers are sliding through my wet slit. I gasp at the sensation. I’m the only person who has ever touched myself there. This is like a whole new world.
Michael starts to gently circle my clit with his middle finger, testing different pressures and patterns until I’m panting hard. He slides that same finger down and slowly enters me. My mouth drops open at how intense his thick digit feels inside me.
“You’re so fucking tight, Adalaide. Imagine what it’s going to feel like with my cock inside you.”
I moan at the image. His one finger is an overload on its own. I can’t imagine what his dick will feel like.
The wet sounds of my pussy would be mortifying if I weren’t so caught up in the way he’s making me feel with his hand.
He adds a second finger to the first, and I cry out, dropping my head to land on the back of the chair.
I clench my hands tightly on the armrests to keep from grabbing Michael’s wrist.
I’m so overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through my body. Flames are scorching at my center. An explosion is imminent, and I’m terrified of what will happen afterward, yet I want to find out so fucking badly.
Michael presses his thumb against my clit, and it’s over.
I come so hard, my entire body tenses with the force. The sensations pour over me in waves, radiating from my core, until I collapse back into the chair, breathing heavily, dizzy even with my eyes closed.
Michael slowly pulls his fingers out of me. I crack my eyes open to find him licking his palm, his tongue sliding all the way up to his fingers before he sucks them into his mouth. That’s so dirty. Holy shit.
His eyes are locked on mine, lust making them appear almost black.
He leans in to kiss me, my essence still on his lips. A part of me wants to balk, but I’m mostly intrigued. What would we taste like together? Is it as addictive as I imagine it would be? Or is it just Michael’s effect on me?
I don’t have time to think too hard about it. Michael is pressing the sweetest kiss against my lips. There’s so much gratitude in it that I’m almost brought to tears.
I’ve loved this man for the majority of my life. Now I just have to prove to him that I’ll never betray that love.