Slow Satisfaction

by Cecilia Tan

  “What?”

  “I learned that kink isn’t enough. I said this in front of you and Vanette in London, but I don’t know if you remember, what with how we were rudely interrupted.” I was drawing close. Anger was heating me up as much as James inside me. “I don’t particularly like it unless it means something. Unless I’m in love. Guess who I’m in love with, James? One hint. It isn’t Damon.”

  He was silent. The one drawback to the blindfold was that I couldn’t see his expression.

  “That wasn’t a rhetorical question,” I said. “Do you believe me, James? If you do, say so. Who am I in love with?”

  He wetted his lips again. “You’re in love with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Yes goddammit, Karina, I’m sure!” His hips jerked under me, meeting my thrusts. “You wouldn’t be doing all this if you weren’t!”

  I ground against him with each question I asked. “And who understands you?”

  “You do.”

  “And who understands your art?”

  “You, Karina, you.”

  “Mmm, I think I’m getting used to this call and response thing we have going on here, James. You know that every time I give you my body, I give you a piece of my heart, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think it’s only fair if you give me a piece of yourself in return. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “A piece of information, a piece of your past. That’s a fair exchange rate, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely! I want to hide nothing from you.”

  “Good. That’ll do for now,” I said. “Now hush and hold still while I make myself come.”

  I didn’t make it easy for him to hold back. I ran my hands down his chest and toyed with his nipples, feeling his cock twitch hungrily inside me when I did. I half wondered what I’d do if he failed to keep from coming until told. The other half wondered what wicked things he would do to me to make me pay for this. Holding back for that long against the steady onslaught of my pussy couldn’t have been easy, either. I was very close myself, soaring along on a high, tense peak before I finally broke through.

  I screamed when I did, my hands clenching his shoulders, knocking him backward onto the bed, thrusting my pelvis against him again and again, suddenly close to a second orgasm and hungrily seeking it with desperate cries and spasms. The second explosion followed the first, hot and bright, making me see colors behind my eyelids before my tension subsided. I went limp atop him, the dual sound of both our harsh breathing making a fading rhythm.

  Five

  Mother Said Get Things Done

  I was a little surprised James hadn’t done any of the things I thought he would. He didn’t try to dom me into listening, he hadn’t hidden anything, and he hadn’t guarded himself in the slightest.

  It was as if he knew what it was going to take to get me back. I was amazed at the thought that he knew me that well and that he could go against his own fears and instincts to convince me of it. Amazed and appreciative. Maybe this was going to work.

  “Karina,” he whispered.

  “Yes, James.”

  “My arm is somewhat wrenched under me.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I lifted my head, but it took me a moment to reconnect feeling to all my limbs and control them. I eased myself off, then helped him roll to his side. I pushed the blindfold off his head before untwisting the cloth that had been binding his wrists together, and he brought his arm forward with a groan.

  “Are you all right?” I worried I’d actually hurt him.

  “Fine.” He wiggled his fingers. “I’ll be fine.” He turned over to face me. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  His eyes were serious, even as his face and body were relaxed and languid post-orgasm. “Did I convince you to give me another chance?”

  “You at least earned the ability to tell me even more of what I don’t know.”

  He took my hand in his, like he had so many times before. This time he kissed my fingertips, his eyes closing as he did. “I have a lot to tell you. More than any single interrogation might reveal.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Speaking of interrogation, this was nice, and I understand why you did it. But I shouldn’t have to interrogate you for the answers.”

  He sucked in a breath. “No. Of course you shouldn’t. There’s so much I need to tell you if you’re really going to get to know me.” He reached up and traced the curve of my cheek with his fingertip. “Yet I feel like you know me better than anyone.”

  “I do know you,” I said. “I just don’t know the facts about you.”

  His gaze shied away from mine. “Many of the facts are sordid.”

  “Says the man who put a six-inch dildo into me and walked me around the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

  “I mean much more sordid than that.” Now his face had completely clouded over.

  “I want to know, James. I need to know. I have a right to, if we’re going to be together.”

  He nodded, though his eyes were closed. “I know. I agree. That still doesn’t make it easy for me to open up.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Except during sex.”

  “As you well know. Were you serious about what you said before? I would sincerely give you a piece of my past for every time you give me…” He kissed my fingertips again. “Anything. Sex. Your body. Your submission.”

  Even though we’d just had sex, I felt a thrill go through my loins. “I wasn’t suggesting it lightly.”

  “I want to be sure. Sometimes we say things in the heat of passion that seem less than wise afterward.”

  “But sometimes we get inspired.” This could be the perfect solution, I realized. “I know the time you’re the most open is when we have sex. That’s the time your answers will be the best. Of course, if we do this, I could still revoke my forgiveness at any time.”

  “Of course. Just as you can revoke your consent at any time. I understand, Karina. It’s One Thousand and One Nights, only this time I’m Scheherazade, telling the stories.”

  I touched his face with my fingers, feeling like a weight was slowly lifting from my back. Maybe we were going to make this work after all. The fact that he was willing to try so hard made a huge difference in how I felt. And I wanted him. The part of me that had been needing him and pining for him all summer was quelled by the knowledge we could do this.

  I sat up and discovered I’d been lying on something. I held up what he had used to bind his wrists. In the dim light I could still recognize what it was. “These look a lot like a pair of panties I used to have.”

  “That’s because they are.”

  “You’ve been carrying around my underwear?” I turned to look at him.

  Lying beside me on the pillow, he wore a familiar expression: serene and a bit bemused. “You left them in the car. Did you think I’d throw them away?”

  “I never really thought about it before.”

  “If I left a pair of my underwear behind with you, what would you do?”

  “Yeah, I see your point. I’ve got a handkerchief of yours I keep in the—”

  His expression changed suddenly, his eyes widening and his lips parting in slight surprise. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  I felt myself blush even though I wasn’t keeping anything a secret. “Um, partly anyway. My roommate—”

  “I know. I met her at the spa that day. Becky. She knew the Lord’s Ladies.”

  “Yeah. And she got one of the handkerchiefs you threw from the stage at Madison Square Garden. It matched one I got from you.” Well, from Stefan, strictly speaking.

  To my surprise, James smiled. He sat up and kissed me softly. “If I believed in fate, I’d say that was a sign. What are the odds?”

  “And are they better or worse than the odds of being struck by lightning?”

  His smile turned into a laugh. “Was that a pun?” In a flash he pulled my legs onto his lap, spanking m
e playfully several times. I couldn’t help it. It was like being ambushed by tickling. I kicked and giggled and shrieked.

  I wriggled free, hug-tackled him, and ended up on top of him in the center of the bed, kissing him all over his face. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

  “If you say so,” he said. “By the way, I agree with your mother. This is a nice dress.”

  “She bought it for me today. She wants to meet you.”

  “What have you told her about me?”

  “That you’re rich and good-looking, which is what she cares about most. My sister wants to meet you, too. They know you’re an art-world type but that’s all.” I was coming to my senses a little, now that the intense pleasure of the orgasm was receding and the play-spanking had woken me up. “And if you’d really put the rock star stuff behind you, that’d be all they need to know. But that sounds like a big if.”

  “A very big if.” He nodded slowly, his face sobering again into his usual mask.

  That would not do. The biggest question he still hadn’t answered for me was the story of Ferrara Huntington. It was the biggest thing that I thought could still be a deal-breaker and send me out of here a single woman. I leaned down and nuzzled his neck, as if the subject were closed for now. He smelled delicious, igniting all my cravings again. I nibbled behind his ear. He arched under me, his cock not yet ready to harden again, but the rest of him responding just fine. He pulled me down beside him, kissing me back and exploring my neck with his mouth.

  Hadn’t we just finished having sex? I felt my insides melting again though, my desire rising like a tide. Maybe my body felt we should make up for lost time.

  Making out was nice and I enjoyed the feeling that we were in no hurry. When had we ever done this, kissed for the sake of kissing? I lost track of time. Minutes ticked by in my haze of affection, pleasure, and relief. Yes. We needed this kind of connection, too. Affection, exploring each other, letting chemistry take over.

  My hands roamed his back, his sides, his hips, until one of them strayed between his legs, and I sucked in a breath as I met the scorching hot stiffness there.

  There was no reason to wait. There was so much we had to talk about. “You’re ready for more?” I teased.

  “With you, Karina, I always am.”

  “But you know what it means, don’t you? If we’re going to continue, you’ll have to spill the beans about Ferrara.”

  “I will be unburdening myself when I do,” he said, pumping his shaft into my hand as I tightened my fingers around it. “You don’t know how much it means to me that I can trust you, Karina.”

  “Even if you had to set spies on me to be sure of it?” I squeezed a little too hard.

  “I never should have done that. Never. But I do not regret the trust I have now, no matter how I came to it,” James said, his eyes fluttering under the pressure of my hand. “I need your forgiveness, Karina.”

  “Need it? Why do you need it?”

  “Because you’re the person who means the most to me. The person whose esteem means the most. You understand me. You understand my art. I… I will never forget the way you drove that point home to me in London.”

  I stroked him lightly, then, quickening his arousal. I’d said those things to him. To hear him say them back was deeply gratifying.

  He went on. “There’s no one I’d rather share my secrets with. No one else I can imagine sharing my secrets with. No one else who gets this close.”

  Meaning not even Stefan, or Chandra, or Lucinda, or any of the other people in his life I had met. It struck me suddenly that our positions had reversed in another way: Once upon a time I knew nothing about him and he had seemingly known everything about me. Now I was the one who had met his friends, patrons, and ex-lovers, while he had yet to meet the people in my life other than Becky.

  His cock pulsed in my hand. “How much do you want me, James?”

  “Enough that I can’t put a number on the answer.”

  “And how do you want me?”

  “So many ways, Karina. So many ways.”

  “Such as?”

  “All the ways I’ve already had you, and more.”

  “Oh? Tell me what you’re imagining.”

  “My mind is full of images. Of you, bent over, blindfolded, tied. Of me taking you in public, in private, with my fingers, with my glass, with my cock, in my bed, in my car, on the roof of a building…”

  “Hmm. I don’t remember the roof of a building.”

  “That’s part of the ‘and more.’ ”

  His desire was palpable. “Go on. What are you going to do to me, James?” I ran my thumb over the head of his cock, spreading slickness. “It’s not enough to just fuck me, is it?”

  “Man does not subsist on meat alone,” he murmured, nibbling my neck. “Or woman. Admit it, Karina. You like what I do. You like what I demand.”

  “I do.”

  “Which is why you’ll let me tie your legs apart and spank your pussy.”

  “Yes, James.” Another deep thrill ran through me as I felt the power shifting, as I felt his dominant side coming forth after being in check all evening.

  “In public.”

  “Yes, James.”

  “With my cock in your ass.”

  My butt cheeks clenched at the suggestion. “Yes, James.” That wasn’t something we’d done yet, or even discussed. I supposed we were discussing it now. “But remember what we talked about.”

  “You give me your heart, your body, I give you a piece of my past.”

  “Tell me about Ferrara,” I said, leaning down to lick the head of the cock in my fist like an ice cream cone.

  His grimace was feral. “Tell me everything you know about her and I’ll pick up where you leave off,” he said, “after I get this dress off you, before I ruin it.”

  Yes, I decided, this trading sex for knowledge rule was working out very well. “Well, let’s see. I know she’s the ex-wife of your record company guy.” I helped him by wriggling free of the top of the dress. “And that she’s claiming you’re married. That’s all.”

  He kissed his way down my naked torso and then breathed softly into the pubic hair I’d kept. He parted my lips with sure fingers and licked in a careful circle around my clit until I wriggled to put him right on target. Then I yelped because he nibbled at my clit, not hard, only to warn me, to remind me who was in charge now. With it trapped between his teeth, he could flick his tongue mercilessly across it and I dug my fingers into the bedspread.

  I noticed, of course, that while his mouth was busy, he couldn’t answer my questions. I supposed if the delay was buying him time to think about his answer, at least I approved highly of the method. He let go and returned to gentle licks then, making me whimper, but I held perfectly still this time.

  “Good girl,” he whispered when he lifted his head. “Now. Things you should know about Ferrara. She’s been lusting after me for more than ten years. Since before I signed with the record company, in fact.”

  One of his fingers played lightly up and down my seam, distracting me slightly, but only slightly. “How old is she?”

  “She was Huntington’s trophy wife. I think she is now thirty-nine.”

  “Okay, but was she chasing you before or after they were married?”

  “After. But she and Huntington weren’t traditionally monogamous.” He chuckled as he slid a finger into me. “She’s the one who introduced me to the society.”

  “Ah, right. Vanette told me she knew her but wouldn’t tell me anything else.” I sucked in a breath as he drew his finger gently in and out of me.

  “The other thing you should know about Ferrara, which hardly anyone else does, is that she took over the record company from her husband about two years ago when they divorced. She’s a very hands-on executive, and she served as producer when I did a residency in Las Vegas called Bride of the Blue. A rock opera spectacle.”

  “I imagine it was.”

  “She grew increasingly difficult
to work with over the course of the show. That was the last straw for me, why I decided to quit entirely.” He paused in his speaking to slip two fingers into me and lick my clit at the same time. He kept that up until I started to tighten up, nearing orgasm, and then he backed off. “Her husband and I had made a deal that an earlier double album counted as two, and then the farewell tour album would be the final one on my contract. Unfortunately for me, it was a verbal deal, and the week before the Madison Square Garden concert, she began leaving me phone messages insinuating that would not satisfy her.”

  “Satisfy her? You mean the record company.”

  “She is the company now. She keeps her ex-husband around as a figurehead, and he continues to do whatever she says. Probably hoping she’ll take him back if he’s a good boy.” He clucked his tongue. “So, quite literally, she owns me.”

  “I had no idea being a rock star was akin to indentured servitude,” I joked.

  “Oh, but it is,” he said seriously. “Did you ever see George Michael’s videos from the nineties?”

  “I had a friend when I was like eleven who was in love with him, yeah.”

  “He sued his record company in England, saying they had essentially turned him into a ‘professional slave.’ He lost the case, but it wasn’t a frivolous one. At a certain point it doesn’t matter what they pay you. When they can force you to do whatever they want, you’re beholden to them.”

  “I don’t imagine you take well to being forced into anything.”

  “No.” He dragged his fingers over my G-spot and my toes curled. “Is that enough for now? There is more to tell you about my battle of wills with Ferrara.”

  “You owe me the rest… later.” I tried to wrap my legs around him, but he put his hands on my knees, flattening my bent legs against the bed.

  “You’ve gotten more flexible,” he observed.

  “Some of my flexibility returned when I was training for the ArtiWorks performance,” I corrected.

  “I approve. Anything that lets me do this.” He ran his cock up my wet seam, levering himself up on his hands. “Are you ready for me?”