Chapter Twenty-Five
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MARK
After a long, relaxing evening of dinner and drinks, we finally arrive back to the hotel room and I realize that, once again, I forgot to talk to the front desk about getting a larger room. But tonight, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.
Or maybe that’s just my dick talking.
Either way, the bed somehow feels even smaller than it did last night as I climb in next to Claire after my shower.
Unlike last night, she’s still awake, which makes the whole thing ten times more awkward. The curtains are still parted slightly, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the room and providing just enough light for me to see Claire’s silhouette. She keeps shifting as she tries to fall asleep, and I lie there staring at the ceiling and willing my mind to stop imagining her in that goddamn swimsuit.
What a day it’s been. Waking up to Claire’s head on my chest, spending the morning with her, going out of my mind watching her at the beach this afternoon, and now back to lying in bed with her and desperately trying not to think about touching her.
This morning was a mistake, though. Waking up to her snuggled against me, her hair tickling my nose, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of mine—it was too much. Too real.
Now, as we lie here in the dark, the memories of the day replay in my head. The beach, the sunshine in her hair, the laughter with our friends. It all felt so normal . And yet, here I am, feeling anything but normal. I'm acutely aware of every inch of space between Claire and me, my heart beating too fast and my breathing quicker than it should be.
As if reading my mind, Claire speaks softly beside me. "Today was fun."
I turn my head to look at her, even though I can only see the outline of her face in the dim light. "It was," I agree. "You seemed to enjoy the beach."
"I did. I never thought I’d get the chance to see the ocean."
I smile at the memory of her running through the waves. "I’m glad it made you happy."
She shifts onto her side, facing me, and I turn my head to look at her. We're close now, too close, but I can't bring myself to move away. "It did. Thank you for bringing me."
We lie there in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Gratitude fills her eyes, and I have to clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out to touch her.
"Can I ask you something?" Her question is hesitant, which only makes me more curious.
"Of course."
She inhales and asks, "Is it normal for so many people to be involved in a Dominant and submissive relationship, or does it just seem that way because of the people you hang out with?"
Jesus fucking Christ. That is not where I expected this conversation to go.
How do I explain this to her without letting my personal experiences get in the way? The last thing I need to do is corrupt her any further. Though, at this point, her ignorance about sex seems to be diminishing every day, and not by my own doing, so I can’t exactly let the responsibility of preserving her innocence fall to me.
"There are a lot of people that engage in that sort of dynamic, but probably not as many as it might seem if you’re only considering my friend group as a sample size," I explain, choosing my words carefully. "I wouldn’t call it common, but it’s not a rare thing either. A lot of people who are into that sort of lifestyle tend to flock together."
She's quiet for a moment as she digests the information. Then she asks, "So are you into that sort of lifestyle?"
I groan internally, fighting every urge in my body that's telling me to touch her, to show her, to teach her. Kill me now. But even despite how fucking insane this conversation is already making me, I can’t lie to her.
"Yes, but not in the way Shane and Dani are. How much has she told you?" I know Claire has heard snippets about things from Dani and the ladies at the New Year’s party.
"Enough for me to know the basics of what their relationship entails and why she likes it. Enough for me to be curious…" she trails off.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This is dangerous territory. This is the line I swore I wouldn't cross with her, but she’s tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge of it.
"I don’t know if I should be the one answering your questions," I tell her .
"Please," she pleads. "I’ve been kept in the dark my entire life. I’m sick of being treated like I’m too fragile and innocent to know about certain things. It’s not my fault that I was controlled and repressed for so long, and the last thing I need is to feel guilty for wanting to learn."
Damn. She’s got a point. "Okay. What do you want to know?"
She’s silent for a few seconds before asking, "You said you were into similar things as Shane but in a different way. How is it different for you?"
"Well, we’re both Dominants and enjoy being given control. He’s very focused on the rules and protocol, taking control in and outside of the bedroom. It’s a very strict dynamic. Whereas I…" Ugh, how do I say this without sounding like a total sex fiend to her?
"You what?"
"I’m more focused on having that control only in the bedroom and using it in a different way."
"How so?"
Well, I guess there’s really no way to talk around the topic now. She’s curious enough that she won’t settle for vague answers. Fuck it. "I’m a pleasure Dom. That means I’m focused more on my partner’s pleasure than anything else, and I love to push those limits, seeing how much pleasure I can give my woman before she breaks."
I can barely make out her expression in the dark, but I’d be willing to bet anything that she’s blushing. "Oh."
"Any more questions?" I ask.
There’s a too-long pause, and I worry that maybe I’ve crossed a line. Was that too much for her?
"I want you to show me."
Holy fuck. "That’s not a question. "
"Please," she whispers. "Teach me."
The words hang in the air between us, and my last remaining thread of hesitation snaps. I can’t pretend anymore, can’t act like I haven’t been dying to feel every inch of her skin, can’t resist the way she seems to want me almost as much as I want her.
But I need to take it slow—much slower than I’m used to. She deserves that buildup of pleasure, of learning the basics before I can give her what I truly want to.
I turn so I’m mirroring her position, on my side and facing her, and lean forward just slightly as I reach out and brush her hair back over her shoulder.
"Okay, but we’re going to take it slow, and I need you to tell me if you change your mind. Communication is the most important thing here, and you need to speak up for yourself. Understand?"
She nods. "Yes."
I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come. For the world I’m about to drag her into.
"Have you ever made yourself come before, Claire?"
There’s a hitch in her breath. "I—I don’t think so."
"You would know if you had," I tell her.
"Then no."
"Alright," I say. "I want you to touch yourself for me."
She looks at me, confusion and embarrassment warring in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
I reach out, gently pushing her from her side onto her back before taking her hand and placing it on her stomach. "I mean, I want you to touch yourself," I say. "I want you to explore your own body. I want you to find out what feels good, and I want to have the absolute pleasure of watching you make yourself come for the first time."
She swallows hard, her eyes never leaving mine. "I... I don't know how."
"That's the point. You're going to learn. And I'm going to help you."
I shift so my palm is against the top of her hand, and I help her guide it down her stomach, over the waistband of her pajama pants, and between her legs. She gasps softly, and that little sharp intake of breath makes me wonder how she’ll look the first time I’m inside her.
"That's it," I say. "Now, rub yourself slowly. Move your fingers like this." With my hand over the top of hers, I’m careful not to touch her anywhere else as I guide her hand in small, slow circles. "Try out different pressures. Find out what feels good."
She hesitates for a moment when I let go, then begins to move her hand on her own, adjusting her fingers until I catch another gasp coming from her lips. Her eyes flutter closed as her head falls back against the pillow.
"Mmm, seems like you found the spot," I murmur, my mouth only inches from her ear.
She nods.
"Now, I want you to move your hand under your pants and underwear and rub that same spot for me."
She follows my instructions perfectly, letting out a soft whimper as she touches herself again.
"Are you wet for me?"
"Yes," she breathes.
"Good." My cock is hard as a fucking rock as I watch her, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have to not take over. I do, however, lean over to cover her lips with my own, unable to fight the urge to kiss her any longer.
"That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Tell me what you’re feeling right now."
Her voice is breathy when she answers, "It’s like a… pressure. But a good one."
"Good. Keep going, and do what feels good, whether that’s the same pace or harder and faster. That pressure is going to keep building the longer you touch yourself until you come."
Her breathing picks up and her hand moves faster, and I can tell she’s close. God, she’s so fucking sexy lying here touching herself, with her hair splayed out across the pillow and her eyes scrunched shut. Her breaths turn into soft whimpers and moans.
"Don’t stop touching yourself until you know it’s over," I murmur in her ear. "Come for me, Claire."
She does only a few seconds later, crying out as her hips move against her hand and her head falls to the side, pressing against my chest.
"That’s right, baby. Let me hear you." She comes so beautifully. My own lust grows almost unbearable as I watch her fingers work her clit under her pajama pants as she rides out her first orgasm ever. God damn, what a sight to see.
Finally, her touch slows and she pulls her hand out of her pants. Her head stays against my chest as her breathing slowly returns to normal.
We lie there in the dark, lost in the moment, and it hits me that I’ll do anything to see her fall apart from my touch.
But as the moment fades, reality sets in. The realization of what I've done, of what I've started. The knowledge that I can't take it back, that I can't undo it. There’s no turning back from here.
She looks up at me with those big, brown eyes and gives me a shy smile, and it temporarily washes away my worry. I can stress later about what this might mean for us, but right now, I’m going to enjoy every second in the afterglow with her.