Light Switch

by Lauren Gallagher

  I watched my own orgasm unfold in his expression: his breath catching when my pussy tightened around his cock, his eyes widening when I released that telltale, breathless moan, his lips pulling into a grimace when I dug my nails into his shoulders. I was coming, but he was falling apart, struggling to hold on while I let go.

  As I came back to earth, he swore under his breath, his arms quivering beneath him. He was close, of that I had no doubt, but I kept it out of his reach.

  “Don’t come yet.” I teased his nipples with my nails. “You’re not going to come yet, are you, Scott?”

  “No, Mistress,” he said through his teeth.

  Three times, I thought he’d given in and disobeyed me, thinking his throaty moan or the way he forced himself a little deeper signaled imminent loss of control, but each time, he recovered. More than once, he screwed his eyes shut, probably trying to keep himself together, and each time he opened them before I could order him to do so.

  “Do you want to come, Scott?” I asked.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he whispered. “Please, yes, please.”

  “I can’t hear you.” I scratched my nails up his sides, suppressing a grin when he squirmed. “Do you want to come, Scott?”

  A little louder this time, he said, “Yes, Mistress, I—”

  “That doesn’t sound very convincing. Do—”

  “Yes, yes, Mistress, please.” With every syllable, his voice crescendoed to a roar until a shudder made his breath falter and dropped that roar to a moan. “Please, Mistress…”

  “Yes. Come, Scott.”

  He had time for one last, deep thrust before he collapsed beneath the force of his orgasm. He slumped over me, grabbing my shoulders and letting his head fall beside mine as his body trembled.

  When it had tapered enough for him to draw a breath, he inhaled deeply, then murmured, “Thank you, Mistress.”

  Chapter 32

  While Scott got rid of the condom, I got us both some water. Once he’d drunk some and caught his breath, I had him lie on his stomach. I pulled the sheet up to his waist while he folded his arms under the pillow and rested his head.

  I rubbed lotion on his back and shoulders while the dust settled and the world returned to normal or something close to it. He closed his eyes and moaned softly, almost purring as his back rose and fell with slow, deep breaths. He didn’t speak. A few times, I thought he’d fallen asleep, and he may very well have.

  The smooth, repetitive motions of my palms on his slick skin nearly lulled me to sleep. I probably could have done it all night if fatigue hadn’t crept into my joints.

  I slowed to a stop, and his eyes fluttered open.

  “How does your back feel?” I asked.

  “Stings.” He craned his neck to shoot me a grin over his shoulder. “Nicely done.”

  I laughed. “I didn’t fuck you up too badly?”

  “Not at all.” He was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t realize what a cruel tease you were.”

  I ran a light fingertip up the center of his spine, laughing when he shuddered. “I learned from the best.”

  “So you did.” He chuckled. “The ice was a nice touch.”

  “You did mention it was your Achilles Heel.”

  “Yeah, and at the time, I didn’t think telling you that would come back to bite me.”

  “You should have guessed I’d grab onto any weakness I could find and hold onto it until I had the opportunity to exploit it.”

  “Bitch,” he muttered.”

  I laughed softly as I set the lotion on the nightstand and sat beside him. Neither of us spoke as I stroked his hair the way he often stroked mine. He closed his eyes again, and I thought he was drifting off to sleep again until he fidgeted, rolling his shoulders and sighing.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Tired.”

  “I wore you out?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He rolled onto his side and patted the bed. “Come here.” He pulled the sheet back enough to let me get in next to him, then threw it over both of us.

  An age passed while we just held each other and touched. Occasionally, a long, tender kiss carried us away, and more than once I thought I was going to fall asleep in his arms or vice versa.

  After a while, he rested his head on the pillow and looked at me. “You’ve come a long way since we started this,” he whispered, caressing my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I had a feeling you and kink would get along.”

  “You were right.”

  He grinned. “Of course I was right. I’m always right.”

  “Cocky bastard.”

  “Damn right.” He laughed softly. When his humor faded, he said nothing as he watched our fingers lace together between our chests.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” I said.

  His eyes flicked up and met mine. The hint of color across his cheeks reminded me of the pink I’d beaten into his back earlier.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I was just thinking.”

  I moistened my lips. “About?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but paused. His gaze returned to our joined hands, and he frowned as he watched his thumb trace an arc back and forth across the back of mine.

  “Scott?”

  He looked up again. There was something unspoken in his expression, something that sent cool water through my veins.

  When he came to life this time, he didn’t speak, he moved. Specifically, he moved closer to me, and when his lips parted, it wasn’t for speech, but a gentle kiss. His lips moved so softly against mine, I thought I might have imagined it until his tongue met mine. Then, with a simultaneous inhalation, we pulled each other closer and deepened the kiss.

  I ran my fingers down his back, but when I found the welts the cat o’ nine tails had left, he flinched, so I cradled the sides of his face instead. His hand traced the curve of my spine to my lower back. When he pulled me to him, his erection brushed my hip, and I released a startled breath.

  He rolled me onto my back, clasping my hand in his and laying it on the pillow beside us. Without breaking the kiss, he reached over me and opened the drawer. When he came back with a condom, I stared at him.

  “You’re not worn out?”

  He tore the wrapper with his teeth. “I’m exhausted.” He kissed me, drawing it out for a moment before whispering, “But I need to be inside you again.”

  Once the condom was on, I wrapped my legs around him. Releasing a soft groan, he slipped easily inside me.

  Mind and body could barely comprehend that this was Scott. His soft hair between my fingers, his hands caressing my face, his warm breath on my cheek as he moved so deep inside me.

  His skin quivered beneath my fingertips. Every now and then, he drew in a ragged breath and trembled at my touch. A shiver followed my fingers up the length of his back, and when I reached his neck, he moaned into my kiss. In my hands, his shoulders trembled with exertion as he took long, slow strokes inside me.

  Anything beyond these walls was either soundless or irrelevant, and everything within created a near-silent narration of us. Skin whispered across skin and sheets hissed across sheets. The steady, barely audible groan of the bed frame’s joinery marked our slow cadence. Unsteady breathing punctuated the gentle sounds of long kisses.

  And all the while, he held me. He didn’t restrain me, he didn’t use my hips or shoulders to gain leverage and drive himself deeper. He held me.

  We’d made love before, crossed into intimacy that couldn’t exist between the people we were supposed to be, but this was different.

  I didn’t have to tell him to look at me this time. I wasn’t his Mistress anymore anyway, but with or without my command, he held my gaze just as I held his.

  And I knew.

  I could no more escape the truth than I could the intensity in his blue eyes.

  It wasn’t a fluke this time. It couldn’t be. We’d accidentally made love after I panicked on the Saint Andrew’s Cross. For comfort, I’d told myself. To get back on the same page,
to calm me down with a gentle touch. Yet for all my rationalizing about how or why we’d done so then, here we were again, moving together not as friends, not as Dom and sub, but as the lovers we’d been all along.

  I wrapped my arms around him and raised my head to kiss him. Our lips met, and we both sank down to the bed.

  His lips and tongue moved with mine. Our hips fell into a slow, perfect rhythm. With every touch, from his fingers in my hair to his cock deep inside me, another piece of my epiphany fell into place.

  The simple truth was I was falling for Scott.

  No, it was even simpler than that: I had fallen for him. I’d trusted him, I’d surrendered to him, and somewhere amidst the bindings and fears and blindfolds and floggers, I’d fallen in love with him.

  Our lips barely touched, as if we couldn’t decide between breathing or kissing. Eventually, we settled on the latter.

  He took slow, smooth strokes, moving only from the hips. How long we moved like that—kissing and breathing each other while he fucked me slowly—I couldn’t say. It didn’t matter. He was inside me, over me, touching me, kissing me, and nothing else mattered.

  With a sharp gasp, he shuddered, pushing himself deeper. When he recovered, his rhythm was faster.

  I was only distantly aware of his cock moving inside me, so distracted was I by his breath on my skin and the sheer sight of him. His eyes screwed shut, the cords standing out from his neck, his lips parting with each uneven breath he couldn’t quite release. I’d never seen him like this, never felt him like this. He wasn’t just getting close to the edge, he was unraveling from the inside out.

  “Oh…God…” he breathed. He could barely choke the words out, and had his eyes been open, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see tears in them.

  I rocked my hips back, taking him deeper. He gripped my shoulders tighter, and with a shudder and a breathless whimper, Scott—my Dom, my Master—shattered.

  When he’d finally stopped shaking, he pushed himself up. He rested his weight on one elbow and, with his free hand, brushed a strand of hair out of my face. Our eyes met, and denial was no longer an option.

  Especially not when he kissed me so gently, so tenderly.

  Definitely not when he whispered against my lips, “I love you, Krissy.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He smiled, and for the first time since I’d known him, he looked shy. His cheeks colored a little, and he dropped his gaze. “I know this wasn’t what we set out to do. I guess it just kind of…”

  “Happened?”

  His eyes flicked up again. “Yeah. It just happened.”

  My stomach fluttered, and it wasn’t just the butterflies that came from looking into Scott’s eyes. Had we gone too far tonight? Had we crossed a line we shouldn’t have crossed when we put aside all the dominance and submission in exchange for level ground and lovemaking?

  I combed my fingers through his hair. “So, where do we go from here?”

  Some of his usual confidence and cockiness returned to the curl of his lips, almost masking the uncertainty that creased his brow. “Keep fucking and raising welts on each other’s skin?”

  “I suppose we could do that.” I trailed my nail down the back of his neck, and he let his head fall forward to give me more access.

  After a moment, he looked at me again. “We don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  He smiled, then gasped as he pulled out slowly. “I guess we take it a day at a time from here. See what else…happens.” He offered a cautious grin, and when I returned it, he kissed me gently before getting up to get rid of the condom.

  One day at a time, I thought. See what else happens.

  I swallowed hard as he came back to bed. Resting my head on his shoulder, I wondered if too much had happened already.

  Fuck.

  Fatigue quickly caught up with us and took over, so we didn’t push the conversation. Scott didn’t seem too unnerved by the whole thing, nor was he in a great rush to find answers for every question this new revelation had raised. Usually, his confidence and self-assuredness was contagious. The touch of his hand or the gentleness of his voice could quiet nearly any distress or alarm.

  Not tonight.

  As we settled into bed together, my stomach got more and more unsettled. I loved Scott, and that didn’t diminish—nor was it diminished by—whatever it was I felt for Matt. More than that, my relationship with one was indelibly marked by my relationship with the other. The things I learned from Scott made sex with Matt hotter. Matt’s voyeurism had added a whole different dimension of sexiness to my encounters with Scott. Having them at the same time had easily been two of the most intense, amazing experiences of my life.

  But a choice would have to be made, and soon. I couldn’t have them at the same time. Not like this. In bed, in smoking hot ménage situations, that we could do. Emotions were on the table now, though. Scott loved me, but he also loved Amy. There was no way he’d give her up to be with me, nor would I dream of asking him to.

  Whatever Matt felt or me, he wouldn’t ask me to give up Scott. Scott wouldn’t ask me to give up Matt. Sooner or later, though, something had to give. Neither Matt nor I were wired for polyamoury. It just wasn’t something either of us could do, and even if I could do it, I couldn’t ask Matt to share me with Scott. They both deserved more than half of me.

  I couldn’t change how I felt about them, but I couldn’t have both of them. One way or the other, I was going to lose. A choice had to be made, and someone was going to get hurt.

  Scott clasped his hand in mine on his chest and kissed the top of my head. I closed my eyes.

  For the first time, I regretted getting involved with the two of them. Every moment of it had been hot, and I’d finally had the opportunity to explore my sexuality, but had it been worth it? Had it been worth putting myself in a position of possibly having to hurt one of them, if not both?

  Was it worth risking two of my most cherished friendships?

  I stared at the ceiling and sighed.

  Now what the hell do I do?

  Chapter 33

  I stared at the television screen, but neither saw nor heard the film. My thoughts were a million miles away while my senses were completely focused on something much closer than the TV. The warm, gentle weight of an arm around my shoulders. The subtle spiciness of cologne. Slow, near-silent breathing.

  On some level, this should have felt wrong. With all the feelings I’d discovered I had for Scott, the last place I should have been was curled up on my couch in Matt’s arms.

  But there I was.

  And it didn’t feel wrong.

  In fact, it felt right. Far more so than it should have, given my situation. This was the only place in the world where I didn’t crave Scott, just as Scott’s arms were the only place where I didn’t ache for Matt.

  Tonight, though, as right as I felt wrapped up in Matt’s arms, I still couldn’t shake the cold, unsettled feeling in my chest. I’d gotten involved with Scott to push some boundaries that needed it, but in pushing those boundaries, we’d crossed lines. What lines hadn’t been crossed had blurred, and I no longer knew what we were. Friends with benefits? Teacher and student? All I knew was that I loved him and he loved me. Where to go from there, I had no clue.

  And where did that leave Matt and me? Because whatever I felt for Scott, I’d have been lying to myself if I said I didn’t feel the very same thing or Matt.

  Was it really love, then? In Scott’s arms, I’d had no doubt I was in love with him. But now, confusion prevailed, because I felt the very same thing with and for Matt. I couldn’t possibly be in love with both of them. Could I?

  “Hey.” Matt’s voice startled me. When I looked up at him, he cocked his head. “Earth to Kris?”

  “Sorry, sorry.” I shook my head. “I was just spacing out a bit.”

  “So I noticed.”

  “How?”

  He chuckled and gestured at the
television with the remote. “Robert Downey, Jr. was on the screen without a shirt, and you didn’t even bat an eye.”

  I laughed. “You know me too well.”

  He smiled, but it quickly faded. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Just, like I said, spacing out.”

  He clicked off the movie, and the room went dark except for the warm light from a dim lamp on the end table.

  “You don’t have to turn it off,” I said.

  “No point in leaving it on.” He turned toward me. “I wasn’t really paying attention to it, either.”

  “Not even with Robert Downey, Jr. on the screen?”

  He gave a wistful sigh. “Not even with him, no.” The backs of his fingers caressed my cheek, and goose bumps prickled beneath my shirt.

  I gulped. “So what were you paying attention to?”

  “You mean besides the fact that you’re sitting right next to me, and I’ve been dying to fuck you all day?”

  I gulped. “Besides that.”

  “Not a damned thing.” His hand drifted from my face into my hair. Just like the very first time he’d kissed me under Club Nine’s flashing lights, his eyes flicked back and forth from mine to my lips as he drew me closer. Something in the back of my mind, deep in my conscience, tried to remind me of the knot in my stomach, but when Matt’s lips brushed mine, neither rational nor irrational thought existed anymore.

  He wrapped his arms around me. The kiss deepened, and he used the tip of his tongue to gently draw mine into his mouth. Fingers ran through hair. Warm breath mingled in the narrow space between us. Bodies moved closer together.

  A lifetime came and went between the moments our lips made and eventually broke contact.

  Matt looked at me in the low light. An innocent grin spread across his lips. “I swear, I came over here to watch a movie.”

  “Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He slipped his hand under my shirt. “And in a minute, the hallway to your bedroom will be littered with clothing.”

  “Promise?” I murmured against his lips.