Chapter 11
Need to learn
LORIEN
Jude looks uncertain, and I don’t like it.
I’d hoped to provide him with some certainty this morning, with some boundaries and a framework within which he can operate. Yet now he seems more uneasy than anything else, and perhaps my reaction had something to do with that.
He’s interpreting my aggression as an outlash, instead of seeing it as a fiercely protective, possessive gesture.
I don’t want him terrified of my kingdom or my palace or fearing every shadow, jumping at every noise.
I want him to ease into his submission, to trust me implicitly, and it’s a novel experience for me.
I’d hoped to forge a connection, rather than force one.
I’ve always used force before, at least whenever what I wanted wasn’t quite what the other wanted. I’m not entirely selfish, but my position has responsibilities and privileges, and I’m far from averse to indulging in every opportunity that I want.
But Jude is different.
I’m already indulging him and if this carries on, then my court might question who’s the dominant in this relationship.
Those deep blue eyes look up at me, and I want to dive into their oceans. I could lose myself for an afternoon, a night, a week, or a lifetime in their endless blue, and with one brief look, the man who should be no more than a slave has thrown doubt into my certain world.
“Is the food to your liking?” I ask.
He nods.
A smile threatens my lips, but not because I’m pleased.
Jude’s taken to nodding his head, trying to avoid accepting his place. He’s delaying the inevitable, deflecting and denying what he should accept. It’s the most human thing I’ve seen and while I understand his nature, I cannot continue to condone it.
It’ll set a dangerous precedent and lead to confusion.
I can’t allow this to continue, for his good more than mine.
“Do you like your name, Jude?” I ask, leaning back in my chair. “I could give you another. An easier one since you are struggling with mine?”
He pales, and the coldness in my tone is enough of a threat.
“I want to introduce you to court,” I say, sighing as his eyes meet mine. “But I cannot let you leave my chambers unless you behave with a modicum of respect, Jude.”
He stares at the almost empty plate before him.
I assume he’s contemplating the difference between rewards and undesired consequences, while learning that the only choice he has is how much he suffers.
Jude’s gaze flicks up to mine, cautious and simmering with defiance, but there’s a flicker of something softer beneath the surface. I see it in the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the way his fingers twitch against the edge of the table.
He’s learning, slowly but surely, what it means to be mine.
“Do you have something to say, Jude?”
My voice is low, a gentle drawl, but the command it contains is unmistakable.
He hesitates, his lips parting slightly before he presses them into a thin line. I don’t rush him. I let the silence stretch between us, a tether tightening with each passing second, until he finally whispers, “The food is fine, Master.”
A thrill hums through me at the sound of that word on his tongue. It’s tentative, reluctant, but it’s there. A small concession, but a vital one.
“Good boy.” I stand, moving slowly around the table to stand behind him. My fingers brush over the back of his neck, and he stiffens under my touch. “But you’re still holding back. I can feel it. I can see it. Do you think I don’t know every inch of you, Jude?”
He doesn’t answer, but the way his shoulders rise and fall betrays the quickening of his breath. I lean down, my lips grazing the shell of his ear.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me. Not unless you give me a reason to be cruel. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he murmurs, but it’s barely audible.
“Yes, what?” I prompt, my hand sliding down him, my touch light and deliberate.
“Yes, Master,” he says, louder this time, the words tinged with frustration and surrender.
“That’s better.”
I take his chin in my hand, turning his face toward mine. His eyes, those endless oceans, are filled with uncertainty and a spark of desire. He might not fully recognize it yet, but it’s there, growing stronger with every passing moment.
I lower myself to sit on the table’s edge, right in front of him, forcing him to look at me. “Tell me what’s going on in your head. You’ve been silent all morning, but I know there’s a storm raging in there.”
He shakes his head, and I click my tongue in disappointment.
“No more hiding, Jude. Speak.”
“I don’t…” He falters, his gaze darting to the floor. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you,” I say simply, my fingers tilting his chin back up. “All of you. Your submission, your loyalty, your trust. And, eventually, your desire. We’ll take it one step at a time.”
He exhales shakily, and I take his hands, guiding him to stand. He follows reluctantly, but he follows, and that’s what matters. I lead him to my bed, pulling him down to sit beside me. My hand finds his jaw again, tilting his face up toward mine.
“Stop hiding, Jude. Stop pretending you don’t feel this.”
I press my lips to his, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. The kiss is tentative at first, but as I deepen it, as I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him closer, he yields. His hands grip my shoulders, his body pressing against mine, and it’s everything I’ve been waiting for.
When I finally pull back, his lips are swollen, his breathing uneven.
“Stop pretending you don’t want me.”
He whimpers and shudders against me, and my arms hold him firm.
I kiss him again, stealing everything I want from him and more. He melts into me and I claim him, taking every last drop of his breath into my lungs as he surrenders to my control.
“You’re mine, Jude. Say it.”
His hesitation is brief, and when he speaks, his voice is low but steady. “I’m yours, Lorien.”
“Good boy,” I murmur, capturing his lips again.
This time, there’s no reluctance, no hesitation, no fighting against what is inevitable. Just Jude, surrendering to me completely, and I was right to allow him a little leeway just now.
It’s perfect and my hands wander down his exposed chest, touching him as I explore his body.
His back arches against me and I push into him, trailing my claws over his skin.
Jude moans as I play with him and I’ve never wanted to fuck something more.
He’s exquisite, and every response, every little movement, every quiet sound that escapes his lips only fuels my desire.
I tear my mouth away from his, trailing my lips over his neck. He flinches and soon the sores will heal. Soon, he’ll be marked as mine, and if he behaves I might even take his collar off, from time to time.
But not today.
Today, I want his surrender. I want his submission. I want his acceptance of me and all I am. Of us and all we are. Of himself too, and with a clarity that’s rare in the heat of lust, I realize that’s what matters most.
I tease his body, kissing and biting as I move down it.
He writhes beneath me, not fighting, not refusing.
He’s silently pleading for more, growing more desperate with every second, and his hips buck into me, seeking relief.
I haven’t touched his dick and he’s already hard, already craving the pleasure and relief I gave him earlier.
He’s not getting it.
This time, he’s getting something else, and he’ll have to earn his climax. As much as I want to taste his come, I want him to beg and work for release, and I want him to crave the release that only I can provide.
His fingers thread through my hair and I wonder what he’s doing. Maybe he thinks this is needed, or maybe he thinks he can control me. He could be trying to please me, or maybe he’s trying to show his gratitude. It doesn’t matter, and it isn’t going to change what happens next.
I flick my eyes up to meet his and they’re wide. His pupils have blown and he’s consumed by desire, losing himself in the excitement of what’s about to happen.
“I need you to understand something, Jude,” I say between kisses on his stomach. “Whatever you let me do to you, I expect in return. Am I clear?”
Jude’s lip trembles and I want to devour it. I want to devour him, and it takes every last ounce of control not to turn him over and fuck him senseless.
“I’ve not…”
His hand quivers as he brings it to his forehead, shakily running his fingers through his hair.
He stares at me, pleading for understanding.
This is how trust is built, in the small moments of vulnerability, where we’re exposed and completely honest. Where we could be wounded or healed, where we can be made or destroyed.
Where we bear our souls and our secrets, and when we open ourselves up and admit our weaknesses and desires.
Jude’s taking a step and it’s for me, with me. It’s a big one. It’s a bold one. It’s a quiet cacophony of need and want, a plea for patience, and an omission of fear.
“You think I don’t know that?” I lift my head and smile, genuinely, gently, as I run my hand over his body. “I know, Jude. I don’t expect anything more than reciprocation, and effort, and willingness to learn and grow. We’re learning together and you just need to try.”
I’m hoping that he learns fast and I don’t have to wait or rush things. But he doesn’t need to know that, and I won’t ruin this moment.
Not when he’s looking at me like that. Not when those big, blue eyes stare at me like I’m a miracle or a god, as if I’ve just answered his prayer and offered him everything he ever wanted.
“Everything I do to you; you’ll do to me.”
He nods.
I growl.
“Yes.” He bobs his head and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “Master.”
Fuck. I could come right now.
I might if he carries on like this.
My head drops onto his abdomen and he groans as I lick his skin. He’s toned, and the contours of his muscles make an easy trail to follow down, even as his breathing quickens.