Chapter 13
The lock on Helena’s door clicked shut, and the room fell silent.
Helena stood with her back to the door, Caitlin ahead of her in the middle of the room, both of them motionless in the lamplight.
The air conditioning whispered quietly in the background, the only sound in a room that felt suddenly charged with potential energy, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.
Caitlin turned to face her. In the soft light she was breathtaking… the way her jaw curved down to her neck, the dark eyes, the lips that Helena had kissed a hundred times in her memory over the past nine months and that were now, impossibly, right there in front of her.
Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.
Then Helena said, very quietly, “Ajoelhe-se.”
Caitlin sank to her knees.
No hesitation. No negotiation. No conflict in her expression this time… simply pure, immediate, willing surrender. She knelt on the hotel carpet, back straight, hands in her lap, and looked up at Helena with an expression that contained everything: relief, desire, trust, homecoming.
Helena felt her breath leave her body. She’d imagined this moment countless times, in her apartment, in her bed, in the dark hours when she couldn’t sleep.
She’d imagined what it would be like to say those words again and have Caitlin, this magnificent force of nature, obey.
The reality was so much better than the fantasy that for a moment she couldn’t think, she could only feel…
seeing this extraordinary woman on her knees, choosing to be there, choosing Helena after nine months of therapy and Sarah and Alex and Zoe… and all of it.
She walked forward slowly, forcing herself to take her time despite every nerve ending in her body screaming at her to take Caitlin in her arms and never let her go again. When she reached Caitlin she stood in front of her and looked down, letting the silence work, letting the dynamic take hold.
Her hand went to Caitlin’s face, fingertips tracing along her jaw, up to her cheekbone. Caitlin leaned into the touch and her eyes closed briefly, her lips parting with an exhale that told Helena everything she needed to know about how long Caitlin had been waiting for this.
“Look at me,” Helena said.
Caitlin’s eyes opened, dark, bright, wide.
“What are you, Gatinha?”
The Portuguese word hung in the air. Gatinha. Her tame little kitten. Helena watched Caitlin respond to it, the way her whole body seemed to almost shimmer, the flush that was visible creeping up her neck.
“Yours,” Caitlin whispered. “Minha Dona.”
Minha Dona. The title Caitlin had learned for her in Houston, the title that meant owner, mistress, the one who commands. Hearing it again after nine months of silence felt like a first sip of water after emerging from the desert.
“Yes,” Helena said. “Mine. You are mine, Gatinha. And I have missed you more than you could ever know.”
She leaned down and kissed Caitlin, and the moment their lips met nine months of careful restraint evaporated.
The kiss was nothing like the tentative reconnection she might have expected after so long apart…
it was fierce, claiming, Helena’s hand moving to the back of Caitlin’s head, her fingers slipping through Caitlin’s hair and gripping, holding her in place while Helena’s tongue found hers.
Caitlin moaned into the kiss and the sound of it, God, the sound of it, sent a flood of desire through Helena so strong that her legs nearly buckled. She’d heard that sound in her memory a thousand times but the reality was richer, more textured, magnified by all those months of wanting.
Helena forced herself to break the kiss and stepped back.
She needed to slow down, needed to take control of herself before she could take control of Caitlin.
This had to be right. After the journey that Caitlin had been through with Zoe, this had to be everything that Zoe wasn’t…
caring, yes, but empowering and entirely respectful of this magnificent woman who was choosing her surrender.
Submission as liberation, not subjugation.
“Stand up,” Helena said, her voice naturally slipping into the tone she used when she was dominant, lower, more measured, carrying the calm certainty that Caitlin responded to.
Caitlin stood.
“Turn around. Slowly.”
Caitlin turned, and Helena watched her, the dress, the bare arms, the curve of her hip, the line of her neck where the necklace chain caught the light.
She’d lost a little weight since before.
Helena could see it in her shoulders, in the slightly sharper definition of her collarbones.
She wondered how much of that was the aftermath of Zoe, and how much was the stress that must come with being a newly minted partner.
“Face me again.” When Caitlin completed the turn, Helena stepped close. “I want you to know something before we go any further.”
“What?”
“I will never punish you for being who you are. I will never make you feel smaller. I will never use your surrender against you.” Helena held Caitlin’s gaze, making sure every word was heard and understood.
“What happens in this room is because you choose it, because it gives you pleasure, because it makes you feel powerful in your surrender. The moment it doesn’t, you tell me and we stop.
That has always been my rule and it always will be. ”
Caitlin’s eyes were excited. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“Good.” Helena’s hand went to the front of Caitlin’s dress. “Now, take off your clothes. Slowly. Let me watch.”
Caitlin reached behind her back and unzipped her dress, her gaze fixed entirely on Helena.
It started to come loose and she held it to her front, taking her time, a little smile twitching across her lips.
Helena watched, unable to look anywhere else even if she’d wanted to, as Caitlin moved one hand to her waist, undoing the fabric belt that was tied to one side around her middle.
When it was loose Caitlin slowly, ever so slowly, let the dress fall forward off her shoulders to reveal an expensive looking bra underneath.
A memory came to Helena, how Caitlin had told her in Houston how she liked to wear expensive lingerie every day, her treat to herself and her armour against the world.
She wondered whether Caitlin had worn it today for only that reason, or also because they were meeting for their drink.
She nearly asked but caught herself… as the dominant, she didn’t need to fish for compliments.
The dress fell away completely to sit around her ankles, and Caitlin stepped out of it, leaving her standing in only her heels and her lingerie. She was breathing quickly, watching Helena watch her. She was magnificent.
“All of it, Gatinha.” She tilted her head. “Except the necklace. Keep that on.”
Caitlin unfastened her bra and let it fall.
Then the underwear, sliding it down and stepping out of it, and the shoes.
There was a confidence there that had been missing in Houston.
Whatever the aftermath of her relationship with Zoe, Caitlin had clearly become much more comfortable with her role as a submissive.
The thought triggered a hint of jealousy for Helena, but much more than that it triggered excitement…
excitement at the possibilities that came from a Caitlin who was experienced, who knew and understood her role so much better.
Helena looked at her and, for a moment, was speechless.
Caitlin was beautiful, she always had been, but tonight she was something more.
She was a woman who had set out to discover what she truly wanted and, as befitted such a force of nature, had pushed her boundaries to find the answers.
She knew exactly who she was now, and she was standing naked in front of the woman she’d been measuring everyone else against. The vulnerability and strength she was showing were breathtaking.
“Perfeita,” Helena breathed. Perfect. “Perfeita, Gatinha.”
Caitlin smiled, and the smile was somehow both shy and fierce at the same time. “I’ve been waiting too long to hear you say that.”
Helena closed the distance between them and kissed her again, one hand on Caitlin’s bare waist, the other in her hair.
Caitlin’s naked body pressed against Helena’s clothed one…
Helena loved the power imbalance, the clothed dominant and the naked submissive, and she knew from that wonderful week before that Caitlin did too.
Helena pushed Caitlin backwards towards the bed, her lips moving from Caitlin’s mouth to her jaw, her neck, her throat where the necklace chain lay against warm skin. She kissed along the chain, felt Caitlin’s pulse hammering beneath her lips.
“Lie down,” Helena whispered. “On your back. Arms above your head and hold on to the frame.”
Caitlin obeyed, lying back on the hotel bed, stretching her arms up and holding on to the frame. She looked incredible… dark hair against the white pillows, her body long and lean, flushed with arousal, her eyes fixed on Helena with a desire that was almost unbearable.
Helena stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at her.
She wanted to remember this… the exact way Caitlin looked in this moment, the way the lamp light played across her skin, the way her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath.
She wanted to sear it into her memory so thoroughly that it would overwrite all those months of imagining.
“Don’t move your hands,” Helena instructed. “Keep them exactly where they are. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Minha Dona.”
Helena climbed onto the bed and knelt beside Caitlin. She reached her hand out and placed it on Caitlin’s sternum, feeling the rapid heartbeat beneath her palm. She held it there for a long, long moment, feeling the life in her, the want, the trust.
Then her hand began to move.