Chapter 16 Leticia
LETICIA
SELF-DISCOVERY
I hung up with Royal out of pure embarrassment.
I’m running hot under the covers, yet I feel like a cold sweat has taken over my skin.
I push the blankets off to get up to . .
. do what exactly? Uncovered, lying on the bed and looking up into the darkness of my room, I feel every bit as alone as I am.
Mom, Dad, and Berto are gone. There are no guards in the penthouse itself. The dreaded feeling of being watched seems to have lessened. I feel too alone and miss being connected. I miss Royal.
Grabbing my phone, I turn the flashlight on before I put my feet on the floor. Shining it to illuminate my path, I go to the bathroom.
I blink against the blinding lights, turn off my phone flashlight, and look at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair is wild and untamed from rolling in the sheets, so I grab the brush and straighten the locks before weaving them into a loose braid.
When that’s settled, I look at myself again. My cheeks are flushed, and my shoulders are moving erratically with my breathing.
Royal was such a gentleman. Letting me do this on my own and not pushing me for more. He’s right though. The only thing stopping me is this expectation of what I should and shouldn’t do.
This is an opportunity for me to take control. Control over a piece no one can take from me. It’s a choice and something for me, just for me.
I can hide under the covers like I used to when I’d stay up way too late reading. No one ever caught me then, so no one could possibly catch me doing this.
How do I even start? I’ve never even watched porn out of fear of being caught, shamed, and given a lecture on Catholic values.
Twenty-three years old and I don’t know how to— I stop the beratement, and more embarrassment and shame creep in again.
Royal said it wasn’t bad. He reassured me it was okay.
Turning my phone flashlight back on, I turn off the bathroom light and head back to bed. I know the way, but that feeling of being watched always makes me feel like something is going to come out from under my bed and grab me by the ankles.
“So pathetic.” I scold myself but climb into bed quickly. “Twenty-three, never had an orgasm, and afraid of monsters under the bed.”
Lying among the covers, I stare up at the ceiling again.
It feels scandalous to call Royal back. Intimate to do something sexual with another person who’s not my chosen husband.
But I could take that back, an intimate experience, and it would give me a semblance of my first time with someone else. Someone that I choose.
Am I choosing Royal because I like him, or am I just choosing him because he’s the first man who has ever been nice to me?
But the last part isn’t entirely true. Ever since I turned sixteen, there have been more advances and attention from Dad’s men.
Many of them have been nice, and those who have been too nice don’t last long.
But Royal isn’t the first man who has been nice or paid me attention.
He’s the first man I’ve wanted attention from. I don’t think he’s just being nice either. I don’t think he’s like everyone else who just wants to get close to Dad and Berto.
Drawing a deep breath, I hold it while going to my recent calls and clicking on Royal’s name.
The phone rings twice, and I almost hang up before he answers. “Hello?”
“Promise me you won’t think this is pathetic and that you’re not doing this out of pity,” I demand without greeting.
“Leticia, this is not pathetic, and you’ll never have my pity.” His voice is so warm and affirming.
I close my eyes and fidget with the sheet with my free hand. “So . . . where do we start?”
“Well, for me, I prefer to be naked.” There’s a sound of leather creaking on Royal’s side of the phone. “I know you’re afraid that someone might be recording you. What are you comfortable with?”
“I can get under the covers,” I offer.
“That’s a good idea. You can use them to give you some privacy.”
“Okay.” My voice fluctuates more than I’d like. It’s a mix of fear and excitement and reflects how they’re coursing through my body.
I tug the covers up over the top of me, making sure the phone ends up close to my head.
I pull my shirt off first, but the sleeves get tangled, causing me to have to sit up.
I try to stay as covered as I can, clutching the comforter to my chest, while putting my discarded shirt on the pillow next to me.
I’m shuffling to get under the covers again when Royal quietly speaks. “Are you doing okay? You sound frantic.”
“It’s harder to get undressed lying down than it really should be.” I feel a break in tension, and I laugh. “Halfway done.”
“We’re in no rush. We’ve got all night.” Royal’s deep voice sends a shiver through my body.
I pull at the tie to my sweatpants before hitching my thumbs into my waistband and shoving them and my underwear down. When I kick them aside, I freeze. I haven’t been fully naked, outside of my bathroom, for years.
I’m warm and cold at the same time. It’s like the war in my head — to be bad or to behave — rampages in my brain. I work on calming myself, but it’s hard.
After settling in, I speak softly. “Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you. Am I on speaker?” Royal asks. “You’re kind of distant.”
“Let me get my headphones.” I roll in bed, and the sheets are smooth against my skin. It’s luxurious and freeing.
My headphones are right where I left them, and I snatch them off the nightstand, opening the case and popping them into my ears. After they announce their connection, I can hear more sounds on Royal’s side. There’s rustling fabric and a whoosh of air like he’s lying down, probably in his own bed.
“Okay, can you hear me?” I check in as I nestle back under my covers.
“Yeah, I can hear you. You settling back in?” Royal hums.
“I guess?”
“Get comfortable. Lie on your back and let yourself relax. This is supposed to be good, and if it isn’t, tell me to stop and we will. Do you understand?” His voice has the hint of a command.
“I understand. If I say stop, we will.” Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I confirm that with him.
“That’s good.” Royal’s voice is sultry, and I close my eyes.
I picture him in the photo he sent me. His hair was wet and wavy, and a sheen of water coated his pecs and abs.
“Take some deep breaths. Focus on how your body feels. Let your hand wander over your skin. What do you want to touch first?”
“I-I don’t know.” Indecision paralyzes me. I try to move my hand, but it won’t budge.
“It’s okay not to know.” Royal reassures me. “We’re not going to dive right into it. Tease your belly with your hand. Feel the soft skin and how warm you are.”
Taking my hand, I drag it up from my navel to my breast.
“Don’t forget to breathe.” Royal’s voice holds a little playful banter.
Drawing a breath, I exhale with a small laugh.
“Run your fingers in a circle around your breast, don’t run straight to the nipple. Tease your body, let it build anticipation.”
His directions slow me down from where I was moving straight to the nipple.
“How did you know?” I stiffen, eyes opening to the darkness of my room, and I stop my movements.
“You seem like the impatient kind,” Royal answers. “You seem like you’re the kind of woman who does things fast and efficiently. But this isn’t something you rush. Not at first.”
The more he speaks, the more transparent I feel. We haven’t known each other for long, but he seems to know me so well. It’s like he understands me more than I understand myself. Certainly better than I know him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m also in bed, naked. I’m following my own instructions too. I hope you’re okay with that.” He pauses, and I think he’s going to go on to the next instruction when he adds, “We’re in this together, right?”
“Absolutely.” I find that I’m smiling, and I feel better about this. “What next?”
Royal lets out a soft groan. “Next, we’ll trace our fingers around the nipple. Feel it pebbling from the touch. How stiff it becomes.”
I close my eyes again and focus entirely on what he says and how I feel. The sensations match his words exactly.
“Trail your hand down away from your breast, to your stomach and lower. Run your fingers between your legs and then back up to your breast. What are you feeling right now?”
Touching myself like this is foreign. I try to just do it and not think too much. When I slide my fingers between my legs, the hair is soft, and I trail across my folds. My breath catches in my throat.
“I’m excited, and nervous, I guess,” I admit.
“Breathe, slow and steady.” Royal’s voice comes with exactly what I need to hear. “One more time, dip lower.”
This time as I do, a little of that shame fades away, and it’s easier.
“That’s it.” Royal is breathy, sending a chill down my spine. “Are you ready for more?”
“Mmmm.” I clench the bed sheet with my other hand. The desire for more battles with uncertainty, and I try to let it go. “Yes.”
“We’ll take it slow. Pull your feet up toward your body. Let your knees fall out to the sides. Open yourself. Don’t rush it. Go at your own pace.” Royal coaxes me along.
I move my feet together, pulling them up. They rest flat against each other as my knees go out to the side. I’m warm and protected under the blankets. No one can see. I remind myself as I finally settle into this new, more vulnerable position.
“Okay,” I sigh, pleased with how I’ve been able to push through my fears.
“That’s so good.” He sounds so proud of me, voice full of a heat I’ve never heard before. “Think you can use both hands to play?”
“Maybe. I kind of like clutching the sheet for dear life.” I squeeze my fist tighter. The fabric nestled in my fingers is hot and damp with my sweat.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. You’re already being so brave. I can tell you’re trying hard.”
His praise melts me into the sheets.
I’m breathing easier and feeling more self-assured. “We could try two.”