“Thank you,” I breathed, because how could I not? “Thank you, sir. Thank you. Thank you.”
I felt a tug at the blindfold, and it came off me, the light of the room piercing through my closed lids. I didn’t dare open my eyes yet, but Ellison coaxed me upright and kissed me there, lips soft on my eyes, on my brows, my cheeks, every part of me he could reach while I continued to thank him for every kiss, every touch, every token of his love.
Somehow he moved me to the bed, and I spread out there, a liquid mass of pleasure that had once been a person. I finally opened my eyes just in time to see him climbing on top of me, straddling my chest and catching my wrists in his hands. He pinned both wrists above my head with one hand, and put the other hand on his cock, stroking himself while he spoke to me in raw, urgent words that seared me like the cane had seared my skin.
“River, you were perfect. You were so brave for me, and so, so beautiful.” His voice caught with every rough, needy pump of his cock. His breath was short, his hips jerking and shuddering as he squeezed my wrists tight enough to hurt. “You’re everything I ever wanted—god, the way you submit to me. The way you give me everything. Even now, you’re—fuck—”
His eyes were pinched shut, like he was concentrating, or in pain, or…or something. I wanted to say something, find some words that would make him fall to pieces the way I did for him, but nothing came. I just loved him so damn much I couldn’t wrap words around it.
“I could do anything to you, couldn’t I?” He opened his eyes again, pinning me with his gaze. His hand twisted around the head of his cock, his rhythm faltering. “Take anything from you.”
“Yes,” I gasped, struggling at his grip. “Anything.”
“Use you any way I want.”
“Yes.”
“Hurt you any way I want.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Fuck—and why—” His breath was short and shallow, the gasps of a drowning man. “Why is that, River?”
“Because—” I looked up at his eyes, and they shone back at me, blue and endless. “Because I want you to.”
Ellison groaned, long and low and ragged, and then he was coming, hot jets of liquid spattering my face and neck. I opened my mouth and some splashed on my tongue, a burst of salt and him that made me moan with delight. His orgasm seemed to go on forever, wave after wave as he held me in place, and I savored every second of it because it was for me.
Because of me.
With me.
He cleaned us up like he always did, and this time I didn’t bother making a feeble attempt to help. This was something he liked doing—or maybe felt like he should do—and there was no need to deny him that out of some sense of awkward politeness. Anyway, it felt nice. Kind of like he was wiping away the sharpest edges of the pain he’d given me, leaving only blood-flushed heat and a lingering ache I was coming to associate entirely with him.
We came down slowly, both of us sweat-slick and a little stupefied. There wasn’t any conversation, but we didn’t need it after all that—we’d said more than enough with our bodies that anything else could wait until our brains were back online. I traced the lines of his chest and the faint ridges and valleys of his ribs, almost unbearably satisfied. If I got any happier, I might actually die of it.
“I have to admit,” I finally said in a low murmur as I drew swirling patterns on his skin with my fingertip, “I do like the idea of not having to drive 18 minutes to do this. Just going down the hall sounds so much better.”
“It takes you 18 minutes to get here? I can do it in 16.”
I tucked my face against his side and laughed. It was a little thing, sure, but it was really…well, gratifying, I guess, to know I wasn’t the only one paying such close attention to the distance between us.
“What’s so funny?” There was a smile in his voice as he nuzzled my forehead. “I’m not the one who apparently drives like someone’s grandpa.”
“No, I don’t—” I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “I, uh, don’t go down Whitehill to get here. I take Midland. The way the lights are timed on Whitehill bugs me—they don’t match up.”
There was a brief pause, and then Ellison laughed, loud and rich and clear. He pulled me close against him and kissed the top of my head with a sort of desperate ferocity that made me start thinking filthy thoughts again. “I love you,” he murmured into my hair. “You and all your delightful idiosyncrasies.”
“Fine,” I muttered, “I’ll start taking Whitehill, I guess.”
“Oh, River,” he said with an indulgent sigh, kissing me again, gentle and sweet. “You don’t have to change a thing. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Nestled up against him like this, skin against skin with all his love painted across my body…for the first time, I thought I might, just maybe, believe it a little.
22
31 Brunches Later
I sniffed the air, frowning, as Mariah opened her door. “Did you burn the bacon?”
“Seriously? No ‘hi, how are you?’ No ‘your new flower beds look nice?’ Not even a comment on my amazing new shirt?” She gestured to her t-shirt, which was printed with a pinup model in a polka-dot bikini, lounging on the back of a giant tarantula with venom dripping from its hairy mandibles. I shuddered. “You start right in on the criticism?”
“How are you, Mariah?” Ellison said beside me. “Your new flower beds look lovely.”
Mariah glared at me with an indignant snort. “That’s how you do it. Ellison, you need to train your boy better.”
“I like his sass,” Ellison said with a shrug. I produced the bottle I’d been holding behind my back and held it out to her. “Anyway, he brought champagne.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, okay—I guess I like you again.” She stepped aside to let us in with an imperious wave. “I didn’t realize ‘fashionably late’ was a thing for you now, River.”
“Ugh, sorry,” I said, kicking off my shoes. “There’s just been a lot going on, and we kind of slept in.”
“Slept in, huh?” she said with a sly look. “Nice sex hair, Ellison.”
Ellison chuckled, smoothing down his hair. “I promise, it was just sleeping. I didn’t mean to fall asleep at River’s place last night, and we forgot to set an alarm.”
“Okay, I guess ‘stayed up all night banging’ is a different thing. Technically.”
“It wasn’t even—” I groaned as she turned around and flounced back to her dining room, her orange-ruffled skirt swishing behind her. We followed, because what else was there to do?
“These two were too busy getting busy to show up on time,” Mariah announced to the table as she took her seat next to Stephen. Brunch turnout today also included Tea, Sarah, and Ruby Red. “Would you pass me another croissant, hon?”
Stephen reached over to grab a croissant for her, and she gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he set it on her plate. Looking at them together, you’d never have guessed that just yesterday Mariah was standing before him while he licked her patent stiletto boots. She’d called him a slithering worm and mocked him for his pathetic, tiny dick—which, for the record, was not tiny at all—loud enough for the handful of spectators gathered around to hear, while he’d thanked her breathlessly and lavished her with his tongue.
It was an unusual relationship, to be sure, but anyone could tell at a glance that they were blissfully happy together. I was happy for them—and doubly happy because now that she had him around, she didn’t need me for brunch setup anymore.
And okay, maybe I was only happy about that because it gave me that much more time to enjoy Ellison. I made no apologies.
“I recommend starting with the quiche,” Tea said, gesturing at the dish of it. “I think it’s got gouda in it.”
“Gruyere,” Sarah corrected. “And spinach. I usually don’t even like spinach, but Stephen is an amazing cook.”
“Damn right he is,” Mariah agreed.
Stephen preened under the praise. “Aww, you
guys—you’re going to make me blush.”
Ruby Red passed the quiche to me, and I scooped up a piece before handing it to Ellison. “Were you two at the party last night?” she asked. “I didn’t see you.” I could still see traces of makeup and glitter on her face from the festivities—it must have been a good party.
“We left early,” Ellison said. “We were both a little wiped out.”
“I’ve got a huge sleep deficit from all the packing and stress from closing.”
Sarah perked up. “Closing? Does that mean it’s official now? The house is yours?”
“It’s, uh…” Swallowing, I looked over at Ellison, who was practically beaming at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way I loved so much. “Yeah. It looks like it’s ours.”
There was a round of applause and congratulations, and for the first time since we’d signed the papers two days ago, I felt a little thrill of victory. It had been a little anticlimactic to sign on the dotted line after almost three months of stressing out over contracts and negotiations and counter-offers and counter-counter-offers, but now that my friends were celebrating it with us, suddenly it was real.
We had a house. God, that was terrifying…but in a good way. Like that moment when Ellison’s hand was raised over me, painful promises stretched tight in the air, along with the unwavering knowledge that joy would surge through me when those promises were fulfilled.
“When’s the housewarming party?” Mariah demanded. “You two have been taking up space in my closet for way too long.”
Stephen rubbed at his chin. “I don’t think it’s so much them taking up space as it is your tendency to stock up on gifts for occasions that haven’t happened yet.”
“Get out of here with your logic,” she said, flicking a grape at him. He snatched it as it bounced across the table and popped it into his mouth, grinning. “You’re as bad as Tea.”
“I’m just saying,” Tea said, gesturing at her with their fork, “it might be a little premature to be shopping for a bat mitzvah gift for a child that doesn’t exist yet. And probably never will.”
“Someday you’ll appreciate me being so prepared,” Mariah huffed. She turned back to me. “So. Party. When?”
I rubbed at my face with a swallowed groan. Putting me on the spot was always the surest way to make all the answers flee my head.
Under the table, Ellison rested his hand on my knee, warm and steady. “Give us a couple of weeks,” he said. “I’ll send out invitations once we’ve settled in a bit.”
And just like that, the anxiety was gone, chased away by Ellison’s hand and his smile and the way he knew me every bit as well as I knew myself. Once, I’d thought it was some form of creepy intuition or mind-reading or something, him using his social psychology powers on me to guess all the twists my brain based on clinical data and studies and theoretical knowledge.
Now I knew it wasn’t anything like that. It was just that he…cared. He paid attention to all my little habits and compulsions and weird irrational obsessions, he catalogued every answer to every question he asked simply because he wanted to know the way my mind worked. He wanted to understand me, just as much as I wanted to understand him.
God, I loved him so much.
“I noticed you’re taking a hiatus on Boundless Fate,” Sarah said, her voice a little worried. “Is that because of the move?”
“Just a short one,” I assured her. “Usually when I’ve got some big thing like this coming up, I work ahead a little so I don’t have to take time off, but I’ve been kind of caught up in a new project lately and haven’t had spare time to do extra pages.”
“A ‘new project.’” Mariah made massive air quotes, followed by a very rude gesture.
“A new comic,” I said with a pointed glare, my cheeks heating. “It’s sort of a passion project, and it’s coming together a lot more quickly than I expected. I might be able to launch it sometime next month.”
“Do tell,” Tea said, leaning forward excitedly. “I adore passion projects.”
“Well, it’s—” I took a slow breath. I hadn’t told anyone but Ellison about this yet, and it felt a little bit like opening up my chest so the world could see all the squishy bits inside. But when I scanned the faces gathered around the table—all friends, and all listening with rapt attention—I felt a warm little flush of courage.
Ellison’s hand on my knee probably helped, too.
“It’s a sex-positive coming-of-age story about a group of high school friends, and it follows them as they sort of fumble their way through learning their identities and sexualities. There are three central characters in the first story arc. Two are a gay boy and his partner who’s just coming out as a trans girl, and the two of them are struggling to learn what that means to their relationship, especially with regards to sex. And the other is…a little bit of a self-insert, I guess. She’s a girl trying to take her first steps into exploring kink, and making a lot of mistakes along the way. It’s going to talk about some of the dangers of jumping into things before you’re ready, but also how to manage risks, and enjoy the process of self-discovery in a safe, controlled way.”
Mariah looked puzzled. “Teenagers and sex? So you’re going full taboo?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like there’s going to be explicit sex on the page. You should know me better than that.” Mariah shrugged. “No, I’m not about to start drawing kiddie porn, jeez. But the fact of the matter is teenagers do have sex, and refusing to acknowledge that doesn’t do anyone any favors. So I want this to focus on being a good model for those behaviors, and a little bit of a window into lifestyles and identities that maybe kids haven’t thought about before. While telling an compelling story, of course—hopefully it won’t come off too educational to be interesting to its audience.”
Ruby Red nodded. “That sounds like something that would have been good to read when I was in high school. All I knew about BDSM back then was that it was something creepy people did in dark basements. It’s not like most parents are going to go out of their way to explain otherwise.”
“And most kids learn about nonbinary identities through ‘crossdresser’ jokes on TV when they’re too young to know better,” Tea said with a sigh. “Even if their parents are open and accepting, they still get those messages from media. It’s good to have other messages out there to balance it out.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I mean, things have gotten a lot better since I was a kid, but I didn’t even know bisexuality existed until I was 15. It would have saved me so much grief back then if someone had just said to me, ‘Hey, you know you can like both, right?’”
“I’m excited for you,” Mariah said, smiling warmly. “It’s a wonderful project. It sounds like the kind of thing that could really mean something to someone.”
“I…yeah,” I said, swallowing around a sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, I hope it does.”
Ellison seemed to sense I was a little wrung-out, and he diverted the topic smoothly to the upcoming pole dance exhibition Ruby Red and Stephen were participating in. Stephen showed us photos on his phone of him performing positively inhuman feats while Ruby Red went on in clear excitement about his routine.
I let the conversation ebb and flow around me, dipping in once in a while as I could, but mostly just listening. It really had been a busy few weeks, and my brain was a little fried. Not to mention Ellison and I hadn’t been lying when we said we hadn’t had sex—we’d both been so busy and exhausted that it had been nearly a week, and as tired as I was, I was still going slightly crazy from it.
His eyes caught mine, sharp, blue, and knowing, and I leaned toward him, melting just a little into his side. He always made me feel like I was exactly where I needed to be, whether or not I was feeling lost in the first place.
As things started winding down, everyone warm and lazy on quiche and mimosas, I brought my plate into the kitchen and saw Ruby Red plastered to Mariah’s back, hugging her tight as she rinsed a couple of the serving
dishes in the sink. “I can never tell if there’s something going on between you two or not,” I mused as I set my plate on the counter next to Mariah.
“That’s the way we like it,” Ruby Red said in a singsong voice as she released Mariah from her deathgrip. Mariah turned and gave her a smack on the butt as she left, leaving a dark, wet handprint on her jeans.
I fell into the familiar rhythm of helping Mariah load her dishwasher, and Tea joined us a few seconds later, sorting condiments into the fridge. “So,” Mariah said, tossing me a smile, “things with you and Ellison seem to be going pretty well, huh?”
“I would say so,” I said. “I mean, I’ve never, you know…moved in with anyone before. It’s scary, but it’s definitely something I want.”
“You think it’s going to go okay, then?” Tea asked, closing the fridge door. “I know you’ve got issues with your personal space—that’s all feeling good so far?”
“I mean, we only closed Friday, and we haven’t even stayed there yet, but…yeah.” I ran my hand through my hair, shifting the long strands on top to settle my mind. “My lease isn’t up for another six months yet, so we’ve got some time to sort of ease into it. And if worst comes to worst…well, that’s why we got a house two blocks away from my apartment. It’s not quite as good as a trip down the hall, but it’s close. It beats the hell out of having to make an 18 minute drive to see each other.”
“Or a 16 minute drive,” Tea said, grinning. I gave them a puzzled look. “Yeah, Ellison told us.”
“That traitor,” I said with a sniff.
“I offered to petition the city to change the timing of the lights on Whitehill, but he didn’t seem to think it would have much effect.”
“Thanks, that’s sweet,” I said with a laugh.
Truth By His Hand Page 34