Chapter 8 #2
I slide my hand under and move it along the inside of his leg. I feel him quiver at my touch, but he continues suckling, and I continue my exploration of his body, moving slowly up until I feel his balls, tight and pulled up, ready to unload.
I reach the base of him and carefully wrap my palm around his girth, slowly edging up to his leaking head. I want to look at it; I want to watch my hand caress him, but I am so taken by the pure adoration in his eyes, I can’t tear my gaze away.
I rub my thumb on the underside of his cock as my breast empties. Then I grip him harder and begin to pump, enjoying the way his body tightens as his impending orgasm builds, reveling in my dominance over his body until his body goes taut.
He unlatches to let his head lower back, and he moans out, hot ribbons of come coating my hand, as he relaxes into the pleasure that ripples through him. I don’t look at my hand; I continue to look at the man in my arms who is grappling with his orgasm.
I hope it was a satisfying orgasm, as I have an overwhelming desire to pleasure him, as he always seeks to pleasure me. I continue to hold his softening length, not wanting to detach myself from him or break the spell yet.
Finally, he takes a breath and manages to croak out, “Claire.” I wait, not knowing what he’s about to say next, holding my breath to know.
Then he continues, “I love you so fucking much. Sharing this bond with you is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.
” I stare back at him, and the only response that comes to mind is, “I love you so incredibly much too.”
He grins at that, trying to find the right words. “I think I've been so caught up thinking I know what I want, all the things in my head and my fantasy, that I didn't let anyone show me how good it can feel to do something else in someone else's way.”
“So, you enjoy the softer side of our dynamic as well, where you’re able to be vulnerable with me and I’m able to nurture you.”
“Yes,” he breathes out. He begins to shuffle his body, and I release his cock as he slowly sits up to my side but stays close. His eyes are beacons looking into mine, a man having an awakening on his BDSM journey.
Running a hand through his hair, he looks down at my sticky hand, and says, “Let’s get you cleaned up, little one, so we can eat together.” He looks pleased, but also amused.
“Stay there,” he instructs, sounding more like the Dom I’ve come to love and adore, as he gets to his feet and walks into our ensuite. He returns with a wet cloth and delicately cleans his cum from my hand.
He returns the cloth and picks up my dress, curving a finger at me to climb off the bed. When I’m standing in front of him, he threads my arms in the armholes and buttons me up from top to hem.
Looking satisfied, he quickly throws on his t-shirt and track pants, then takes my arm hooked in his again and leads me into our kitchen.
He seats me at the kitchen counter with a glass of water and begins to rustle up some beautiful-smelling gnocchi. He leads me out of the kitchen, and we sit under a sun umbrella at a painted iron table on our back porch.
I want to ask ten thousand questions, but I know not to ask them since his demeanor has shifted, and what we shared upstairs has given us a sense of deeper companionship. Instead, I chirp occasionally about the gorgeous view, the lovely food, and the weather.
He is happy to engage in small talk. When we have both finished, Erik puts his knife and fork together, pushes his plate away, sits back in his chair, and looks at me. I follow his lead and do the same, picking up my glass of water to wash down the meal.
When I turn to look at him, I find him staring with an intensity. “Everything okay?” I ask hesitantly, wondering if something is wrong.
“Everything is different, little one.”
“Everything is different in a bad way?” I ask nervously.
“Everything is different in an unexpected way. As a Dom, I have prided myself on my confidence in any scene or dynamic. I haven't participated in many intimate dynamics. This is my most intimate one; I've never truly given myself over so fully… until you. Now, I’ve experienced something with you that I didn’t even know was possible. To feel completely vulnerable as a man with a woman is not typical, and for me personally, it is unexpected.”
“I can understand that. As a submissive, I never thought I would feel empowered to dominate in a moment while not fully being a Domme, if that makes sense," I murmur.
“It does make sense. I always thought I would Dom my long-term partner in my lactation dynamic by tying up her breasts while her arms were outstretched above her head and flogging them.”
I try my hardest to keep my face neutral as I reply, “What part of that has changed?” my voice squeaks.
"The desire to flog you has changed. It was easier to imagine flogging you before you allowed me to suckle in your arms and stroked me to completion. Now I can’t even consider doing that.
The way I’ve Dommed a scene or a submissive in the past has changed since you and I have entered into an exclusive relationship. ”
“Is this change bad for you or something you like?” I ask.
I feel a sense of remorse, as if I caused a problem between us. “Nothing about the current situation is bad. I regret nothing. I have just never wanted something other than full control as a Dom.”
“I love that I’m learning more about myself with you, as you seem to be learning about yourself with me,” I say with a husky voice.
“I love that we’re learning together. This is more than I think either of us have experienced with previous partners, and I love the process of falling deeper in love with you. Now, little one, let me grab us some ice cream and keep you topped up with water.”
I smile back at him, pleased that I haven’t ruined anything between us, as that is always a deep concern of mine, and grateful for the ice cream.
And if I’m being honest, I’m pleased to avoid the flogging.
I enjoy pain with my pleasure, but when my breasts are fully engorged, that’s a level of pain I don’t want.
We enjoy our desserts, Erik sitting quietly contemplating. Once we are both finished, he leads me back into our bedroom.
Having taken so long to finally drain my breasts, they are not as full as they’d usually be by now. He guides me to the edge of the bed and says, “Sit.”
I do as he asks as he turns and walks over to a set of drawers and returns with soft rope. I feel as though I can predict the outcome. He sits on the bed next to me and faces me, a wicked sparkle in his eyes, but I don’t distrust them. I’m pleased he’s found a new iteration.
He moves his attention to my dress and wordlessly begins to undo each button slowly, taking his time peeling me naked for him. I feel his fingers against my body, but they only brush against my skin.
Every time a button opens, he takes in the next exposed part of my body before moving to the next one as if he’s seeing my skin underneath for the first time all over again.
When he gets to the last button, he pushes the fabric from both my shoulders, letting it fall down my arms, where I let it pool on the bed.
His hands stay on my bare shoulders, and he runs them up my neck, the contact making my breathing hitch. His eyes follow his hands until he eases my neck toward him and lowers his face to take my lips.
His hands move up the back of my neck to cradle me into him; his soft lips kiss me tentatively, taking his time to open his mouth and explore mine. The kiss embodies a fleeting instance of renewed passion; I find myself completely immersed in this man.
His tongue seeks mine and coaxes it to play with his. His mouth feels soft and welcoming, his tongue gentle as it massages my own. I reach for him; my hands travel over his covered body, appreciating the fabric that allows my fingers to slide up his frame easily and hold him to me.
His kiss elicits a sensation akin to foreplay, igniting my nerve endings and a surge of need within my body. Pulling away slightly but not unlocking our lips, Erik runs a thumb over my nipples, the heightened sensitivity making me moan in his mouth.
His mouth smiles around our kiss. He can’t seem to get enough of the way we are joined; he’s unwilling to break us apart, but continues to stroke over my nipple, sending sparks flying between my legs.
He’s making me want to push him onto the bed and climb onto him; I'm strongly tempted to take the lead.
Tearing his lips from my mouth, he breathes heavily, close enough I can feel his breath across my lips as he says hoarsely, “I’ve changed my mind again.
The things you do to me, little one. Come. "
He moves back from our embrace, taking my wrists, shuffling to the head of the bed. “Lie down, hands above your head.” I do as he asks, resting my head on the soft pillow. I can feel my hands being tied together and connected to his headboard.
I feel stretched out and exposed, but not frightened. He shuffles down to my side, leaning over my body with his; he continues our kiss, his lips asking for permission to take mine again. I open to him, needing him to kiss and fill me.
I try to keep up with his pace of temptation, but he’s turning me into a puddle of need, and I kiss him back hungrily, wanting more of him, asking for more of him with my mouth. He senses my shift in arousal as I press my chest against him, needing to feel more of him on my body.
My nipples are hard and yearning for his touch or his mouth.
He runs a hand down the side of my face, caressing my skin as my body screams for more.
Pulling away from my lips, he lowers his mouth to my neck, nipping, biting, and sucking as he takes his time focusing on the sensitive skin behind my ears and lowering down, covering my body with his as he kisses a path across my shoulders.