by Alam, Donna
Action is eloquence. Or to put it into more familiar words, time to put your money where your mouth is, Kate.
With a tremulous breath, I set the scarf aside and pull out the final item. Another box: gold, with an almost satin-like finish. Inside is an amber coloured glass bottle, painted with a scene from what looks like the Garden of Eden. As attractive as both the bottle and the packaging are, it doesn’t detract from the fact that this is lube. A bottle of lube. What the hell for?
Lube? I type.
Yes.
Should I be worried?
No, but you should be naked. Get on the bed, prop your back against the pillows, and open your email. There’s something I want you to see.
I push my gifts into the centre of our massive bed and pushing the empty boxes to the floor with my arm, I climb into the middle of the mattress, shifting to and fro, trying to position myself in a seductive pose. Frig, I’ve still got my socks on. I peel them off, dismayed at the line they’ve left around my ankle. Shit, even my ankles have gotten fat! I begin rubbing them frantically, hoping to make the rings fade.
Have you started without me? comes Kai’s next text. Wasn’t the scarf’s message clear enough?
No, I’m here. I’m ready.
Though for what, I’m not sure. And why was I arsing about; it’s not like he can see me. Not yet, anyway. Pulling my iPad towards my naked lap, I toggle to my email and a video file from Kai, as my phone chimes again.
Before we start, remember: no touching yourself.
My chest feels knotted with breath as I open the file.
Audio rustles and the screen is filled by a blur of skin. His chest, I can now see as he moves back against the plush headboard of his hotel bed. He seems to be wearing the same pants as the earlier pic, though I’m pleased to see he’s lost the shirt. He doesn’t speak, but briefly levels his gaze on his own device—phone? iPad?—as he begins loosening his fly with that sinful glance.
And that one look . . . it’s already too much.
I’m wet, and he hasn’t even started. And I’m naked, and I know there’s a reason why. I push my thighs together, conscious of the moisture gathering there, which brings my mind back to the lube. Stop it. Stupid mind, freaking out. I shake my head and concentrate on the screen again.
Kai doesn’t take off his pants, but pulls himself free from the confines of his grey boxer briefs, holding the heavy weight of himself in one palm. He curls his fingers around his girth, then strokes: once, twice. I hold my breath, almost not daring to move, as he rubs his thumb over the silky head, exhaling a heavy breath.
My mouth is dry and my heart is beating somewhere between my legs as he runs his fingers from root to tip, his stomach muscles rippling as he teases the swollen head. If it’s even possible, his cock appears to grow larger. The fingers of his free hand move away to the side, slipping into his pocket, and pulling out . . . my lace knickers. He trails them across his body, his abs contracting. My breath hitches as he then takes the fabric in his palm, wrapping both them and his long fingers around the base of his shaft.
He doesn’t look up—doesn’t look at the camera—and I know it’s not because he’s camera shy. I feel like this is some sort of statement, like how this isn’t about me, this isn’t for my pleasure.
It’s all about him.
He starts off slow, breath heavy as he rubs his length, twisting a little at the head. My insides are tight, my fingers grasping my tablet tighter than it needs as his free hand brings a bottle into view—something clear squirted into his working hand. His movements change then, speeding up, his hands working harder, his breath coming in short but weighty bursts. Suddenly, he cups his hand around the distended head, fingers tightening as he lets out an earthy groan. He’s come, I think. That was kinda fast—and fantastic, when he swaps his cupped fist for his thumb, brushing against the tiny hole there. As his thumb lifts, a small amount of white liquid stretches like a glossy string.
I hear myself sort of squeak, pushing one hand between my thighs and squeezing them tight. But I don’t cheat—I could, but I won’t, and he starts again.
Harder, faster, rougher. His breath is rapid and sandpapery.
I’m almost rocking, my hips almost lifting from the bed, right at the moment his gaze rises. The truth and depth of his fierce need sears me and I desperately want him to come—to come for me. But he smiles, and it’s all sorts of sinful as he slows down his movements again. The moment goes on forever, or so it seems, our eyes connected over the ether, over the internet, this need between us igniting across the distance, as he drives himself to the edge, and back again. Pausing. Breathing, his sounds and actions driving me to my own brink.
And then it’s over. Just like that. But the ending isn’t a happy one. For either of us.
My hand slips from between my clenched thighs as I hold the tablet again in two hands; as though holding it this way will give me a better insight into his head. Kai stops, completely, his hands falling to his sides, palms lying against the coverlet. His breath is rough and uneven, his eyes screwed tightly closed, his cock twitching hard, swollen, and now, ignored.
I’m fascinated. And appalled, and can’t imagine what’ll come next.
Will he . . . eventually? Will I get to watch?
There’s a static-y noise as he moves on the bed, and my Kai peep show abruptly ends.
Nooo! What was that? I don’t even bother with my phone, using the messaging function on my tablet.
A little taste. Now it’s your turn.
The thing starts to ring with an incoming face-to-face call.
‘Sweetheart.’ He sounds like he’s been running. ‘Cheer up. It’s not the end of the world.’
My cheeks heat at his cocky tone. ‘H-how could you just do that? Why?’ My tone is all what the fuck!
His eyes narrow almost infinitesimally, and I begin to think he’s pissed off, when he laughs a little; low and hard.
‘Maybe I’m just saving myself for the real thing. Can you use the stand?’
‘Wha—Oh.’ The tablet stand.
I set the thing on a pillow when he interrupts.
‘Between your legs. Position it so I can see your body.’ I swallow thickly, then reposition it until Kai tells me I’ve got it correct. For him, at least. My legs are open, my heels digging into the bed. I close my legs from knee to thigh, trying to feel less exposed.
‘That’s not going to work.’ His tone is quite flat. ‘And for what it’s worth, I can still see quite a bit. Quite a narrow focus,’ he says, quite sardonically. My legs shoot open, from shock more than anything else. ‘That’s better,’ he says softly. ‘A view I’ve dreamt about. Take the scarf, the ring and—’
‘The ring?’ I repeat. ‘Oh, bugger. I forgot to open the box.’
He laughs as I open its hinge. It’s a bit of a fashion statement, this ring. A silver band with a bar balanced across the top, a bar long enough to span the three middle fingers of my right hand. I know this, as Kai tells me to slip it on. Balanced on the bar is a row of pearls; the largest in the middle, their sizes becoming equally smaller on each side of the centre pearl.
‘Is this your idea of a joke again?’ I’m thinking back to my necklace and his smutty comments of his desire to cover me in pearls. Ropes of them, as I recall.
‘No joke, darling.’ His voice is rougher now. ‘Take the lube and squirt a little—’
‘Don’t think I need it,’ I mumble.
‘Take the lube,’ he says, now all awesome and growly. ‘Trail it down your middle from chest to mound.’
I bite my lip, quite literally, as I fight the urge to snigger as I loosen the lid. Mound. So not sexy. Then do as he says, shivering as the cold liquid meets my heated skin.
‘There,’ I say quietly, trailing a finger through the puddle that’s gathered at the base. When he doesn’t answer, I look up, his eyes a burning cognac-coloured glaze. And just as intoxicating.
‘It looks like someone’s shot their load down your fro
nt.’
Why aren’t I shocked? Why does this make my insides jump?
‘Why don’t you come home . . . You can—’
‘Come? All over you?’
Lips pursed together, I nod greedily.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘Maybe you’ll need to.’
‘Maybe I’ll hold you down.’
I don’t have an answer, and his eyes follow the path of my fingers down.
‘Stop.’ His voice is an octave lower, the word a definitive command. ‘The blindfold. Read what it says.’
‘I thought it was a scarf,’ I say, reaching across the bed, as I repeat, ‘Action is eloquence.’
‘Good girl.’ He smiles as he says this. It’s not a kind smile. He knows how I love and loathe the sentiment behind the endearment. ‘And a scarf is something to protect you against the elements, the same as a restraint is something to bind you to the idea of letting go. In this instance, my darling, a blindfold takes away your sight, increasing your pleasure tenfold.’
I raise my hand to secure it as he instructs me to bind it tight.
‘The ring. I ought to have told you to wear it the other way around.’
‘What?’ Discomforted in the dark, my spine stiffens.
‘The ring,’ he prompts. ‘Slip it off, and turn it so the pearls are on the inside, nearest your palm.’
I try to do so, tension causing my fingers to stiffen and swell.
‘I—I can’t.’ This comes out in a strangled wail.
‘Shh, sweetheart. Trust me.’ His voice is soft, his words sincere. ‘It’s going to be okay.’ His promise lingers in the cool air, the tension in my body relaxing a little. ‘Relax, lie back. Now, take your finger and wet it. That’s right, slide it inside. Take it all the way in.’
I feel the corners on my mouth curl, trying to fight my smile. Of course, I can’t see his expression, though his tone is innuendo filled.
‘That’s it. God, I wish I was there with you.’
‘Me, too,’ I whisper, knowing it wouldn’t be my finger I’d have in my mouth. The ring is loose enough now for me to slide and turn. ‘It’s like a reverse knuckle duster,’ I whisper.
‘It should certainly pack a punch. Kitten, take your fingertips and slide them along your collarbone, down your body, down between your legs.’
‘Okay,’ I answer on a tremulous breath. He’s all serious now.
‘You don’t have to answer. Not if you don’t want to. Just relax . . . and feel. That’s it,’ he adds as I sweep further still along my thighs. ‘Keep touching. Light fingers, fingers that could almost be mine.’ I imagine his hands, those elegant fingers finding the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Slipping inside. ‘You look so beautiful, spread for me.’
Hearing his soft spoken words, his praise and encouragement is incredible, but at the same time, a little embarrassing. I don’t want to be reminded I have my legs spread, that I’m exposed to him, but I also can’t help the small, breathy sounds escaping from my mouth.’
‘That’s it, Kate. Relax. There’s just you and me. We have no secrets, nothing we need to hide.’
Only I do, don’t I? I have secrets I’m keeping from him. My hands stop abruptly, fingers twisting in the sheets at my sides. I open my mouth, but can’t form the words, can’t bring myself to tell him of my encounters with Sofia and Essam. Would there be a point? There’s nothing he could do from wherever the hell he is. My stomach twists as I consider the other things I haven’t told him. Nothing massive; everyone has secrets, don’t they? Especially things involving an ex.
Guilt and discomfort washes through me, making me feel a little ill.
Kai’s name is balanced on the edge of my tongue as I begin to lift the silk from my eyes.
‘Stop.’ A definitive word—no, a command. ‘Those weren’t our terms.’
‘But, I—’
‘Lie back on the bed, or I promise there will be consequences.’
‘Don’t be an arsehole,’ I complain, dragging the scarf away completely, though leaving it on my head.
‘Arsehole?’ he growls. ‘I’m half way around the world, so busy I’ve barely time to inhale, and I’m an arsehole for trying to bring a bit of pleasure into both of our lives?’ From growly and commanding to just plain pissed off, it seems Kai’s mood has altered, too.
‘I—’
‘Kate, look at yourself. Look at me. Are you naked and running hands all over yourself because you want to appease me?’
‘No, not only, but—’ Again, that’s as far as I get.
‘Look at me—go on, take a good look.’ I pick up my iPad and peer into a poor facsimile of him. For the first time I notice how washed out his complexion is, see the dark marks under his eyes. He looks terrible.
‘Are you ill?’ What if he is and he just hasn’t told me?
‘This is what being away from you is doing to me. I want you by my side, I’ve missed you enough already. Also, I want to keep you safe, especially after everything that’s happened, and I’m fucking terrified you’ll leave again.’ One tear slides down my cheek. How could I have not known he was feeling like this?
‘Add to that,’ he says, his tone now grave. ‘In my adult life, I have never, ever, gone this long without sex.’
I can’t help it. I burst into giggles. He just looks so serious and so forlorn all at the same time.
‘That’s not nice,’ he adds, trying to keep his own face straight. ‘Seriously. I’m going to be a strange shape by the time I get home.’
‘Like what?’ The words burst from my mouth.
‘I probably won’t be able to fasten my trousers for the size of my balls.’
‘That sounds painful.’
‘And imagine, what sympathy do I get from my darling wife? I get called an arsehole.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, trying to swallow more giggles down. ‘I’m fine. Please, try not to worry. I’m in no danger, and there’s no danger of me leaving you. Trust goes both ways, you know.’
Kai scrubs the heels of his palms into his eyes. ‘It’s the other fuckers I don’t trust,’ he says in a low voice, then sighs. ‘I suppose I’d best leave my plans for another time.’
‘What? After such a promising start.’ One scorning eyebrow rises on the screen. ‘Come on, you can’t leave me hanging, not after your mouth-watering show,’ I almost wail. ‘You can’t stop now. Please? I promise I’ll be good.’ Somehow, the latter comes out less than coy.
‘I’m entirely sure you mean that, too,’ he answers in a scorning tone.
‘I do. Look.’ I place the iPad back down on the stand and pull the scarf back over my eyes. ‘See, I can be good, very good. And I can do as I’m told,’ I say, running my fingertips along the seam of my exposed centre. My legs jolt at the contact and I exhale a tight moan.
‘Darling—’ The word catches in his throat. ‘Not so fast. Slow down.’
‘Then tell me,’ I purr.
‘More lube.’
Not what I had in mind, but okay. My hands pat the bed, finding the bottle and pouring it onto myself.
‘Run the ring through it now. Use the same hand and slide it down your body.’ Oh god, the sensation is like a massage and something else I can’t quite define. ‘That’s right, just there,’ he says as I reach between my legs.
‘Oh!’ And that’s just from one glide. Just to make sure it isn’t a fluke, I rub there again.
‘That’s it, kitten. Rub those pearls over yours.’
Pink immediately pricks my cheeks and I almost move my hand right then. Almost. Because what follows makes me forget everything. As he whispers every dirty word he seems to know, my insides begin clenching; a testament to his thoughts and promises. My hand glides faster as he tells me how beautiful I look, all red and flushed. How he can’t wait to be with me again. How he’ll be so desperate, we won’t get beyond the hallway before he’ll lick me until I’m shaking and desperate. How he’ll fuck me so hard, I won’t be able to stand.
/> His words become distant, my hips rising from the bed, twisted with need. Ignoring the ring in favour of my fingertips, I begin to pluck and frantically rub. This isn’t pleasure, its pure burning need. An ache to be touched and to touch. A desperation to be filled.
To be fucked.
Animal need begins to crawl through my insides, my climax drawing ever nearer, before it—stops?
Like a slap in the dark.
Ears filled with the sound of my breathing, my hands are like claws as his voice returns, but it’s just noise. It doesn’t make sense through the fog. Through the ruins of such potential.
From the promise of coming like a freight train, to the carnage of being derailed.
I think I might cry.
My hand hovers over my centre, my whole body yearning with an ache for release.
‘Why?’ I cry out. ‘Why did you make me stop?’ And then I realise what I’ve done. What he’s done—how I stopped on his command. ‘I promised I’d be good.’
‘You are so, so very good,’ he purrs, his gaze hooded, though no less piercing. ‘And it will be so worth it in the end.’
‘How can you know that? I want my happy ending now,’ I whine. ‘You said yourself—’
‘I know, because there’s nothing better than being inside you. Imagine the edge we’ll both be on if we wait—how fucking fantastic it’ll be when we finally get the chance.’
‘You can’t know that,’ I grate out, pulling a pillow to cover myself.
‘Oh, I do. It’s like eating purely for sustenance, compared to how a meal might taste when you’ve hungered for days.’
‘Days! But you’ve already been gone weeks!’ I know he’s due back next week, but seriously?
‘Until I get back,’ he adds solemnly. ‘Let me be more specific, no touching yourself between now and then.’
I don’t have an answer, but I’m pretty sure there’s red, angry steam coming out my ears. How can he expect to get me all worked up, then just switch it off?
‘Your skin will tingle with the desire to be touched. Sexuality—sensuality—will bleed from your every pore. And then I’ll be there. Just a few more days,’ he adds quietly.