Chapter 40
Raya
I want to bask in the moment he realizes that it's real. The second I took the black bag from his head, I could tell he thought his brain was trying to trick him. It gives me hope. It tells me that everything I’ve done leading up to this point was worth it.
He grumbles against the rope in his mouth and as tempted as I am to remove it, I can't.
I push away from him, standing, and take a moment to admire him this way.
I never thought I'd be the one who wanted to be in control.
Not when I relished the power he's had over me since day one.
I know it'll never happen again. I know that when I release him, he's going to be the one who controls me with his words, with his looks, even with that air of power that just seems to circle around him.
I begin to pull my clothes off, first my t-shirt, then my jeans, leaving my bra and panties for last. His eyes follow the glide of every piece of fabric as it goes from my body to the floor at my feet.
“I know you didn't mean a word that you said in that motel room.”
He shakes his head and I read it to mean that he didn't because getting rejected after all that I've done would carry the sting of a thousand suns.
As strong as I tried to convince myself that I was, how I would just move on with my life if he rejected me, I know better.
Living without half of yourself is impossible.
“Lauren and Angel told me they had a hand in convincing you to walk away from me. They explained how they thought I would have no protection from the media. My entire life has been a series of avoiding the press and also feeding them what I think they needed. It was all smoke and mirrors,” I explain.
“The protection I thought I needed from them my entire life is exactly what's going to protect me now.”
His eyes are locked on mine rather than drifting down my naked body. I let myself imagine that I would have his full undivided attention even if he weren't tied to a chair and gagged.
“I gave them our story,” I continue. “You should really hear some of the conspiracy theories.
I know if anything happens to me, shit will hit the fan.
I don't know if we're a hundred percent safe, but I do know that we’re safer than we were.
We don't have to run out or hide. We don't have to disappear.”
He tracks me to the other side of the room as I walk up to the table and grab a knife. His eyes widen for a second as I step closer to him, fear fighting with acceptance. Acceptance wins as if he thinks he hurt me so badly that I have every right to do the same to him.
But I know better. The emotional trauma I suffered from being rejected by him doesn't have a physical counterpart. The pain I endured the last three weeks can't be revenged by hurting him.
I cut away at his clothing, smiling when he tries to flinch away from the blade. It seems convincing of the mind and fighting that natural instinct to survive are two separate things.
“I've missed you these last three weeks,” I confess. “I've relived what we did in your house over and over.”
Groans mix with a gasp as I trace the tip of his cock with the blade of the knife. I'm so needy my hands are shaking, so I drop the knife. Despite what he might think, I don't want to hurt this man.
“I wonder if the feds found our little black toy,” I whisper in his ear as I straddle his lap. I’ll remember the moan of pleasure he makes when I slide down him for the rest of my life.
He grumbles something incoherent against the gag in his mouth and I know his inability to touch me, to command me, is its own form of torture. I hate that he can't praise me, that he can't tell me that I'm pleasing him. But I also refuse to let go with this moment.
The thoughts of what he’ll do to me for not allowing it, make me ride him harder. This isn't the most comfortable position in the world, but the thrill of him being inside of me for only the second time after dreaming about it for weeks, is more than enough.
I lean in closer, allowing my lips to brush his cheek. “I know what you did to Jason,” I whisper in his ear. “I know it makes me a little crazy, how much it turned me on that you'd protect me that way. I know it means you love me.”
He lifts his head, exposing his throat so I can trail my lips there. His pulse pounds against my lips and I’m familiar enough with the sounds he’s making to know just how close he is. The fact that he's going to come even tied up and gagged threatens to make me lose it as well.
If I had a genie in a bottle and three wishes, I'd use all of them for this right here. One for the look In his eyes. The second for the noises he makes, and the third for the devastating way he makes me feel.
My body gives in to his demands at the first kick of his cock inside of me. I don't fuck him through it. I settle on top of him, taking him as deep as I can go, as I shudder in orgasm. My skin tingles, knowing it was utter perfection, but at the same time, my body is demanding more.
My mental health can handle knowing how obsessed I am with this man because when I look into his eyes, I see the same level of obsession there. It's okay to be a little crazy so long as we're together.
He doesn’t speak when I untie the gag from his mouth, like I expect. He watches me, his eyes darting from mine, running down the tip of my nose to my lips.
“Is it going to take you one month to apologize?” I ask.
He shakes his head no, angling his head up to press his lips to mine.
“I want more,” I groan in distaste when he pulls away, wondering just how long I can maintain all the control.
“I'm never letting you out of my sight again,” he whispers, and that's all I need to give full power back to him.