CHAPTER 17 #2
Her gaze is riveted to the piece of furniture. The tiny tremors through her body suddenly foment into an open rebellion, and she begins shaking. She bites her lips between her teeth, and her eyes…
They become wilted delphinium, chalices of fear.
There’s no part of her that’s ready for this room.
The reality of it is too much. To be honest, I always thought it would be.
Had we built it together, had she experienced the pleasure of gentle touches, the desire of restraint, the giving up of self to the partner, it would have been different, but I’m pretty sure that she’s seeing me in the room, engaged with other women. Torturing. Hurting.
Which isn’t ever what happened unless the woman in question actually begged for it, and even then, only twice. And I was careful. Turned on by her reactions, but not what I would choose for myself.
But I can’t explain all that to Nina right now. I can’t explain how the décor is meant to provoke uneasiness and decadence, but how we could find new boundaries together in gentle cadence.
“Sshh,” I whisper as I turn her into me, and I’m relieved when her arms encircle my thighs.
“We don’t have to do any of this. I told you, Jelly Bean.
I’ve been happy making women happy, but all I need now—all I will ever need—is you.
” Because her mouth is so damn close to my dick, I lift her up into my arms. “Ready to leave?”
She nods vigorously, but just as I’m turning back toward the door, she says, “Wait. You said you were going to fuck me in here.”
“Not if it upsets you.”
“It does, but I don’t know why. I’m not a shrinking violet kind of person. I write about this stuff. I thought I’d be excited, but…” She looks over her shoulder and around the walls again before returning her gaze to meet mine. “I didn’t think I was a prude. I don’t want to be a prude.”
“Jelly Bean, you’re not a prude. You’re anything but. There’s no shame in not wanting, or not being ready for, this room.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m too vanilla. I mean, if one of my heroines broke down in front of the hero upon seeing a spanking bench, my fans would boo her right out of the book.”
“I doubt it. I think they’d commend her for knowing what she wants and what she doesn’t.
Besides, timing is everything.” I look around the room.
It’s my past. I don’t need it in my present or future.
“I’ll lock the room up until you’re ready, or I’ll burn the lot of it.
We’ll make the space something else. Hell, we’ll get a priest over to consecrate it, or a voodoo practitioner to cleanse it, or whatever you want.
None of this matter to me. Only you matter to me. ”
“But I’m not a prude,” she assures me.
“You are not a prude. You’re perfect. Though I do like this outfit. How about I shower, and you wait for me on our bed?”
“To fuck?”
“To fuck. To make love.”
“Yes, that’s it. To make love, because I love you.” She wraps her arms around my neck, as far as she can reach. “I love you so much, it’s just stupid.”
And that’s how easy it is to say the words without any conditional attachments. Who knew?
“I love you, too, Jelly Bean. With all my heart and all my Nephilim soul.”
“And human, too. I want every piece of you.”
“And human,” I agree. I lean down to buss her lips, just a quick brush, but she grabs my nape and forces the embrace into a passionate meeting of tongues and lips.
When she pulls back, she says, “Put me down.”
When I do as she asks, she presses her palm just above the tip of my randy dick, directing me to the wall. She reaches high for the buttons on my jeans, popping one after the other, before rolling down the pants and leaving Mr. Dick straining toward the ceiling with yearning.
“You want to fuck in the hallway?” I smile. I like it. “Fast and dirty?”
She grabs my dick around the middle, raising all sorts of electrical spikes through my blood.
“I want to blow you in the hallway. And before you say anything, you should know—this is what I really, really want. This is going to give me incredible pleasure. I want you to come down my throat. I want you to come so far down my throat that you choke me. I want to suck down so much of your cum that I’m drowning in it.
And after you come, I want you to take me to the living room, lay me over your knees, spank me with your hand, and then fuck me from behind. Hard. Got it?”
It's a reaction to the Red Room. She both wants to prove she’s not afraid of a little kink, and also, I think, that she can do with me what no other woman could.
But her breathing also hitches as she makes the demands, like she’s uncertain about changing the dynamic, scared of making big old me her bitch.
Terrified that I didn’t mean it when I said I couldn’t orgasm without pleasing a woman, and terrified that I won’t be able to come with her when she needs me to.
But I meant it. And she means it. So maybe I can. For her, I’ll try to do anything, even wrangle the stars. Even wrangle my own body’s resistance to what other men take for granted.
My heart slams against my chest. “Yes, ma’am.”
And as her mouth covers me—dirty, sweaty, unwashed me—I feel her lips down so deep inside of me that it’s like a revelation.
My knees bend on their own, partly because I don’t want her to have to strain to reach, and partly because she’s just taken all my strength.
If Delilah took the original Sampson’s power by cutting his hair, Nina’s taken mine on her tongue.
With her words. With the fact that she wants me so damned much.
She loves me.
When my fingers find her pussy, it’s sopping wet. She’s excited by this, and that excites me enough that I think I can do the impossible. For her.
I wrap my hands in her hair, giving the illusion of restraint as she tries to take more of me into her mouth, though I leave her free to move as she will.
Her little hands on my dick work in their own clockwise and counter-clockwise motions, and for the first time, ever, I can feel my balls harden in preparation of coming without first having pleasured the woman I’m with.
It’s a revelation—but this is what she wants. What will please her.
“Nina,” I growl her name, warning her.
But instead of moving back, she redoubles her efforts. The tip of my dick finally finds its way past her tonsils… and I’m done. With an inarticulate growl as electricity arcs up my spine and out the top of my head, I feel the acid burn as my seed rushes out of me and into her in blistering waves.
I need to pull back.
But she grabs my ass, trying to restrain me as I come far more than seems natural, and because she wants me to remain in her, I do.
But just when a full-bodied shudder runs over me and I think I’m done, another wave takes me by surprise. Terrified I’m going to drown Nina with my cum, I pull away, leaving a trail down her lips, chin, neck, and the front of her tight lace top.
And she’s so gorgeous, with my seed on her lips, on her skin, I pulse again before I let nature win against my suddenly weak legs, and I slide to the floor. “That was… Nina.” Another groan leaves me. “I can’t. I’ve never… this was…”
I can’t walk. Can’t carry her to the couch. Can’t make love to her right now. I’m wiped. Physically, yes, but also emotionally.
“I need…” To make her come. To please her. I need to do it now.
“Sshh,” she whispers, sinking down onto one of my extended legs. “We have all night.”
I grab her head, forcing a connection between our eyes. “That was the first time. Because you love me. Because I love you.”
She nods. “And I loved making you come down my throat. So much.” After wiping her mouth, chin, and neck on her little top, she kisses my cheek before rising again. “You stay here. I’m going to pour us some wine. I’ll meet you in the living room once you regain your wits.”
“Don’t be sassy.”
But she smiles smugly like she’s just performed a miracle, and she has, so I won’t begrudge her the expression. I lean my head back against the wall so as not to watch her sashay away, but then I open my eyes because I love to see her walk.
And I love the new confidence in her step.
Huh. Guess she’s more like me than I thought. She’s happy because she’s made me happy. She takes pleasure in giving me pleasure. That’s somehow perfect.
Before she enters the kitchen, I call out, the words forced from me by the new understanding inside me. “Will you marry me, Jelly Bean?”
She rotates, hands on hips, glaring at me. “Just because I blew you?”
“Just because I love you, and because you blew me, and because I actually came because you enjoyed it, and because it’s going to take me a bit to recover, and because you’re amazing, and because I can’t live without you, and because I want to put a ring on it so that I don’t have to worry about some six-foot-five short guy snatching you off the street.
” I think those are all my reasons, though there may be more.
She snorts before turning back to the kitchen. I wait while she shuffles around, making noises. My eyes close. I can’t keep them open. I feel my head lolling to the right, and I dream of her sliding back next to me.
“I’ll marry you, Sampson. But I still want you to spank me. When you wake up.”
Five minutes. That’s all I need.