20. Wes
My dick isn’t even fully soft when I hear the quiet click of my hotel room door.
It’s been approximately two minutes since Elizabeth made me come so hard I went blind for several seconds and she’s already gone. That has to be some sort of record.
I sit up and blink several times before I say, “What the fuck just happened?” out loud.
I followed Elizabeth out of the hotel after the confrontation with her shitbag of a brother-in-law with the sole intention of making sure she was okay. I never expected to see her have a meltdown. I didn’t even know it was possible for her to crash out like that. It scared me.
But it also ignited a burning need to take care of her—to let her know that she was safe, to swear I’d never call her Lizzy again, to tell her she’s brave and that I didn’t think her instincts were off. Mostly, I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone.
I think that’s what most people would want in a situation like that.
But it’s not what Elizabeth wanted. The woman literally fought me on it.
I was proud of myself for getting her to do something as simple as order food.
I considered insisting that we eat together, but when we got our order, already packed in takeaway containers, I could tell from the set of her shoulders that I wouldn’t win that argument. And Elizabeth desperately needed a win.
So I ate my dinner alone in my hotel room while watching a movie on cable.
I figured I’d call it an early night, but I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking about her. I pulled out my phone a time or two to message her, but couldn’t find the right words.
I was considering going down to the gym—but then there was a knock at my door.
And there was Elizabeth, taking my breath away.
I didn’t know if I should look at her hair, loose and cascading down her shoulders and back, that tiny scrap of frilly fabric, or the determined look in her eyes.
When she stepped into the room, I had no idea what to expect.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought she’d demand to fuck me and then blow my entire mind.
I’m not new to the world of kink. I’ve always been a sexually curious person and have flirted with power exchange before. But it was always more playful, done with a wink—and I was never the one in a truly submissive role.
God, I got her so wrong in Monaco. I should have realized. I should have known.
I remove the condom, wrap it in toilet paper, then toss it in the trash.
When I look in the mirror, I almost laugh.
The skin across my throat is red, and my nipples are swollen and darker than usual—the left from where Elizabeth bit the shit out of it, little teeth marks visible, and the right from when she basically tried to wrench the thing off my body.
They’ll probably both be bruised tomorrow.
I’ve had rougher sex. I’ve been restrained and blindfolded, had multiple people’s hands on me at one time. But I’ve never experienced anything as simultaneously intense and cathartic as what I just experienced with Elizabeth.
This time, I do laugh. She barged in my hotel room, demanded a condom, told me to get naked while she remained mostly clothed, commanded me not to speak out loud or touch her, delivered pain when I broke her rules, and somehow, it was the most relieving, maybe even the most satisfying, sexual experience of my life.
What the fuck.
Literally.