Chapter 19
CHAD
Ifeel all floaty again, but this time it feels more intense.
Almost like that one time in college when I’d smoked weed.
I didn’t like the feeling then, but I like it now, and it’s probably because of John.
It’s not just lightheadedness, it’s like my limbs are filled with air instead of bones. Everything feels soft around the edges.
“Do you feel all floaty too?” I ask, my words slurring a smidge as I squint at him beside me.
He smiles softly at me and it makes my heart happy. “No, I don’t, but that loopiness you’re feeling might be subspace. It’s normal. You just went through an intense experience, and this is the comedown.”
Subspace. Huh.
Must be why my body feels heavy and weightless at the same time. My skin is extra sensitive, and my heart feels open, almost like it’s more vulnerable, but in a good way.
“Oh,” I say dreamily, snuggling back into John under the covers. The world outside the bed feels very far away. I just want to exist right here, tucked into him, breathing him in. He rubs my back slowly; each pass of his hand anchors me a little more and keeps me from drifting too far.
“Are you ready to talk about what we just did together yet?” John asks me after it feels like we’ve been lying here for hours, but it also might have only been a couple of minutes.
“Yeah, mm-hmm,” I mumble, still half melted into the mattress even though I do feel a bit more awake.
“How did you like the cockwarming?” he asks casually.
“The what?” I immediately ask. My brain must still be catching up even though I’m sure the fog has lifted and my thoughts feel less syrupy.
“Cockwarming,” he repeats, completely straight-faced. “When you put your mouth on me while I worked on that quote.”
“Oh my God. I thought it was a fancy kink word for a handjob so I didn’t look it up, like maybe you’d warm someone’s cock with your hands by rubbing them together like you’re starting a fire.
” I can’t help but laugh as I continue. “Oh, or maybe like literally blowing on it to warm it up. Unlike a blowjob that actually involves a lot more sucking than blowing. I’ve always thought that was weird.
I didn’t know what it was, but I thought it sounded fun. ”
“Jesus, Chad. You really shouldn’t just—”
I cut him off before he can finish scolding me. “Don’t worry, I have the stoplight system, and we never even got close to yellow. Plus I trust you.”
He gives me an unamused look. “Okay. Well, I still want to check in on the rest. It’s important to me to know how you’re feeling after that. It was intense, and this is all new to you.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree, letting him take the lead on this conversation.
“The wax,” he starts with. “Good? Too much?”
I think about the brief sting, but also about how much I enjoyed it after it started cooling on my skin. “No, not too much. It definitely surprised me, but I liked it.”
“The cold metal?”
“That was worse,” I admit with a laugh. “But in a good way. I didn’t expect the cold to feel that intense, but it shocked my body, so it was surprisingly fun. It was so sensitive and, like, tingly almost.”
“It can be overwhelming,” John says in understanding. “Temperature play can definitely get intense quickly, especially without all your senses engaged. Speaking of, how did you feel about the blindfold?”
“Oh, I loved it,” I answer easily. “I loved the thrill and anticipation of not knowing what you were going to do. I completely trust you, so it was a very positive experience.”
The corner of his lip tips up, and then he swallows, effectively tamping his grin down. “And the arm restraints?”
“Also loved that, feeling like I was completely at your mercy. Maybe next time we can tie up my feet? I’ll lay there spread out for you, ready to have your way with me,” I joke in a suggestive tone.
His eyes darken slightly, but he stays focused on the check-in. “And the crawling? Kneeling?”
I flush a little, but I don’t look away. “I thought I’d feel embarrassed,” I admit. “But I didn’t. I felt like I had a role to play, and I wanted to do a good job so that you’d be proud of me. I liked that you were paying attention to me the whole time.”
“I was,” he says quietly. “You also don’t have to like all of it. I won’t be upset or offended if you don’t.”
“No, I really did like it all,” I assure him. “I want to do it again.”
His gaze searches my face, probably looking for any signs that I’m lying, but he won’t find any.
Tonight was amazing. So much better than I could have imagined from just my research.
I can’t believe I’ve never thought to try any of this stuff before, but I also don’t think I would have enjoyed it as much with any of my past partners, especially if they wanted me to be the one to take control and initiate.
I’m really lucky to have John as the one showing me everything. He’s taken such good care of me.
“Any questions?” he finally prompts.
I think about it for a moment. “When you said that you were going to punish me, I was picturing whips or paddles. Is that something you’re into?”
He smirks. “We can try those things if you want, but I can’t say I’m eager to do either.
Spanking is one thing, minor pain and over quickly like the wax, but anything above that I think I worry too much about the pain involved, and as far as punishments go…
” He tilts his head to the side, trailing off like he’s thinking about exactly how to phrase his next words.
“Well, I enjoy orgasm control a lot more than that. I think it’s fun to edge you or force multiple orgasms out of you when you don’t think you can come again as a form of punishment instead. ”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time. No complaints from me.”
“Okay. If that’s everything, stay here,” he murmurs. I instinctively tighten my arms around him. “I’m just going into the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t want to let him go, but I do.
The loss of his warmth makes me whine softly, but I perk up when John reappears just a few minutes later, walking over to me on my side of his bed.
“I’ve got a bath running for you,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist, helping me up.
John guides me out into the hallway and to the bathroom.
I feel oddly delicate since he’s being so gentle with me.
The tub is only about halfway full as John guides me into it after checking the water temperature with his hand. “Easy,” he says as I step into the tub.
My whole body sighs in relief as the hot water climbs up my chest as the tub continues to fill.
John kneels next to it and eventually turns the faucet off.
Then he grabs a soapy washcloth to rub it over my chest and clean up our releases before taking the time to gently scape off any of the remaining wax.
The whole thing is so very intimate. How does he claim to do this without feelings? Or is that something he just says but isn’t true? Because with this level of care and attention, my brain is struggling to separate the two. No one has ever done anything like this for me.
John warned me that he could only offer me sex. Nothing more. But this feels like a whole lot more.
“Do you always take care of your arrangements like this?” I ask, already bracing for the impact of his inevitable “yes,” but I can’t help it; I need to know. He just asked me about every kinky act we did tonight while holding me, and now he’s cleaning me up in the bath he ran for me.
John hesitates for a moment, swallowing before saying, “It’s always important to do aftercare. It’s the decent thing to do.”
His words soak in as I think about how much I like being on the receiving end of his care and attention.
There’s just no way I could keep my feelings out of this.
I never stood a chance, to be honest. I know the feelings I have for John go beyond the boundaries of our arrangement, and maybe I shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place, but I wasn't strong enough to turn down any piece of him he was willing to offer me.
And maybe I should be regretting that decision, but I wouldn’t trade tonight for anything. If this ends poorly, I’ll deal with the fallout then, but for now, I’m choosing to hold onto hope that this is still only the start of things between us. That one day, we’ll be a happy couple.
I look at the way John is staring at a mark the wax must have left on my chest, at the concern mixed with hunger shining in his eyes, and I can’t help but question if he’s truly as capable of separating sex and emotion as he’s claiming to be.
“And you don’t catch feelings, ever?” I push, aware I’m treating this like a high school moment when you ask your crush if they have a crush on anyone, hoping it’s you, but I can’t help it.
His brows furrow, but he continues staring at my chest, not up at my face like I want him to. “No. Just like I told you, it’s an arrangement that comes with rules and boundaries. Everyone I’ve played with has understood the situation and respected it.”
Everyone but me, apparently.
I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing.
But I agreed to his rules, he was very up-front about what he could offer me, so I can’t blame him.
Normally, I’m able to focus on the positives, and it’s easy for me to hold onto hope for the future I want for us.
But right now, I’m struggling. Was it simply naive of me to believe that sex would make him fall for me too?
Or do I just need to give him more time?
“How did you get into it?” I ask, needing to distract myself but also desperate to know more. Maybe it’ll help me understand him better.
“Oh,” he says, pausing, obviously surprised by my question.
He finally glances up at me for a moment before licking his lips and continuing again.
“I, uh, had a really shitty period of time where my life felt very out of control, after…” He trails off and shakes his head, but I know that he was going to say after his ex died.