Surrender to More

by Rachel De Lune

  “Are you an existing client?”

  “Yes. Jessica Riley.”

  “Hold please.”

  Elevator music blasts my ears, and I resist drumming my fingers against my desk.

  “Jessica, this is Dr. Cross. Is everything alright?”

  “Um, sure. I was hoping I could come in and talk to you ahead of our appointment in January.”

  “I’ve only got a few spaces before New Year. I can see you this afternoon, but it’s only a thirty-minute slot.”

  “That would be perfect, thank you.”

  “I’ll see you at 4:00 p.m. then.”

  After hanging up, I return to the work I need to sift through. The quiet office is my saving grace. I open the spreadsheets and the proposal Ian slammed and start picking them apart.

  “Jess, come through.” Dr. Cross is prompt, calling me in as I barely have time to sit. It’s quiet again. It has been on all of my visits. I hadn’t asked Luc where he works in the building. I wanted to keep my appointments with Dr. Cross and Luc separate. He asked if I thought there would be a conflict, and I saw no reason to test that any further. Luc and my personal life didn’t need to mix with Dr. Cross.

  We take our designated seats in her office, and I fidget. I knew why I felt the need to talk to her. I could have gone to Izzy, but she would have sugar-coated her response and been too excited to be critical. I knew I was the harsh one in our relationship, and she loved me in spite of it.

  “What can I help you with, Jess?”

  “I needed to talk some things through with you about my current situation with the man I’m seeing.”

  “Yes, go on. You were working on learning to trust him.”

  “Yes, and I am. Starting to trust him, I mean. I have feelings for him, feelings that I’ve not had to deal with for a ridiculously long time, yet my past spreads doubt over everything.” I sit forward on the seat, unable to settle. Admitting this to Amanda is a bigger step than I thought it would be. I can’t come back from this.

  “Have you talked to him about your past and why you are struggling?”

  “Not specifically. He knows I was cheated on and was hurt. He doesn’t know the exact context.”

  “Do you think it would help to let him know? You’re trying to build trust with this man.”

  “I don’t see why he needs to know the details.”

  “That’s up to you. But you said you wanted to move forward with this man and learn to trust him. Trust goes both ways and being honest with him might help.”

  “I’ve told him enough.” This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I was worried about how much I felt for Luc, not if I should tell him all the dark and mortifying aspects of my past.

  “If the roles were reversed and you found out he was about to marry someone and was left at the altar, and he kept that from you, how would you feel?” “Hurt. Betrayed that he kept something so important from me.” The thought Luc might love someone enough to marry them seizes my heart with pain.

  “I understand you feel this is a big step, but it doesn’t have to be. He knows there is something making you cautious. This is just filling in the blanks. If he has feelings for you, then he’ll likely want to know.”

  “I don’t know how he feels about me,” I whisper. Admitting my concern makes me feel two feet tall.

  “Have you asked him?”

  “No. It’s not fair if I’m not going to admit how I feel about him.”

  “And how do you feel?”

  “I think I love him.” I let the unexpected truth of those words dissolve into the quiet of the room.

  “Is that bad?” I look up at her, and I see hope and compassion.

  “Why would you ask that?” She smiles.

  “If I tell him how much I care, then I can’t pretend any longer. He can’t humiliate me if he doesn’t know the effect he’ll have on me when he leaves.”

  “Why do you assume he’ll leave?”

  “I wasn’t good enough to hold on to the other people I loved. I’m protecting myself from the inevitable.”

  “I think you have some confidence and self-belief issues. Have you considered he isn’t telling you how he feels because you are so closed off to the idea of a future with him? That your behaviour might be contributing to the failure you are anticipating?”

  “I know I should be more invested in this than I am, considering my feelings for him. I’m trying to take it slowly, a step at a time. But my heart is racing ahead of me and making everything so hard. And terrifying.”

  “Will it hurt to tell him that?”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready. I can’t get hurt by him.” I shake my head, the anxiety of what that conversation might look like engulfs me.

  “Will you ever be ready? It’s been, how many years?”

  “Nearly eight.”

  “If you want to make this work, then you have to work at it as well. It’s not up to one person. It requires both of you. Think of it as a partnership.” Her words are interrupted by a buzzing coming from her desk.

  “I’m sorry Jess, but that’s my next appointment.”

  “Right. I appreciate you making the time for me.” I stand abruptly and pull back my emotions with a deep breath. “Oh, and about the journal. I don’t think it’s going to work.”

  “Fair enough. It was just one method. If you want another short session, then please, call my mobile and we can see if there is something more flexible we can set up.” She hands me her card, and I tuck it into my coat pocket.

  I turn and hurry out of her office. My heart feels exposed and fragile from the truth spoken aloud to Dr. Cross. I wrap my arms over my chest, barricading my heart under layers of clothes and skin, as if that will help in protecting it.

  Luc had already found his way in. He’d rebuilt the fractured pieces of me faster than I could defend against it.

  I wanted to see him. My heart was filled with longing for something good and sure and exciting with him. I wanted to go to him and lay myself at his feet. It was such an alien concept, but I needed his strength and straight talking to set me right. To keep trust in what I felt in my heart.

  Every emotion I’d unlocked was now running riot through me, and I was overwhelmed.

  My hand digs into my bag and finds my phone. I tap the screen a few times to call Luc.

  “Hi. Nice to hear from you again so soon.”

  “Can I see you? Can I come round? I have something I want to say to you, but not on the phone.” My voice is soft, pleading.

  “Well, I’m not home yet, but you’re welcome to in about an hour or so.”

  “Are you at work?”

  “Yes, but I’m seeing a friend in a few minutes. It won’t be long, and I can be home about six if you want.”

  “Perfect. Thank you.” The relief gushes from me.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “Sure. I’ve just… I want to see you, that’s all. On our own.”

  “Okay, Princess. See you in a few.”

  I leave for home, not even caring my day has been far from productive. I change into jeans before bundling up and head to Luc’s. I’m ridiculously early so I wander off to the nearest coffee shop to get a cup of tea.

  The waterside sparkles with street lights and the glow from the few cafes and bars. I clutch the takeaway cup between my hands and inhale the steam that vents from the small gap in the lid. I needed to act on what was circling my mind before the past ripped away my courage—a stupid notion, considering all I was going to do was apologise to Luc and tell him I had feelings for him. I might not express them in the three words that define my feelings, but I was making progress. I wanted to move forward.

  I sip the tea and stroll back to Luc’s apartment block. His black Merc was parked in the space next to my BMW so I hit the intercom for his apartment.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me.” The buzz signals the door. I walk through and head for the stairs. The door to his apartment is ajar, and I walk in and close it beh
ind me. My feet carry me through to the main room, and I hear Luc in the kitchen. I watch as he puts cups on the side and boils the kettle. He’s dressed in grey suit trousers and his signature white shirt. He looks yummy, as always. I head for the small island that separates the kitchen from the rest of the space and lean against the bar. Luc hasn’t acknowledged me since I entered, and my heart is beginning to thud in my chest. It shouldn’t be. There is no reason why, except I was more nervous than I wanted to be.

  “Tea?”

  “Sure,” I reply. I clear my throat, hoping to sound confident rather than anxious.

  He sets the mug in front of me and assesses me while he takes a swallow from his own brew. His face hides all signs of emotion. Lift your head and tell it straight. Don’t back down. Unfortunately, this wasn’t what my body was feeling. Nerves riddled me.

  “You came here to say something. I’m happy to stand here until you’ve said it.”

  Luc’s comment helps push my tongue into action. But the words I wanted to say don’t come out. “Are you enjoying this?”

  “No, but at the same time, you’ve given me no reason to be gentle with you.” He takes another sip of his drink and resumes staring at me.

  “Why do we have to argue all the time?”

  “I don’t know, Princess. You tell me?” The familiar crackle between us begins to charge with every word we speak.

  “Because this is new for me and my instinct is to fight it.”

  “What’s new? You keep saying you’re trying, or you don’t mean to be a bitch, but you take one step forward and ten back.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. Or rather, sometimes I’m doing it before I have a chance to think it through.” My head drops and I close my eyes against the fear that is clawing at my throat. “I like you. I have feelings for you, and that terrifies me.”

  “Good girl. Now say that again and look at me.” The steel in his voice orders me to follow his command. I lift my eyes and meet his emerald ones.

  “I like you, and I have feelings for you. More than I thought I could, and they scare me.” The intensity of admitting my feelings to Luc grips my body. I can’t be afraid any longer. I’ve shut so many things out of my life. I’ve spent so long protecting myself I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be looked after or to be vulnerable.

  “And?”

  “And, I want to stop pushing you away.”

  “And?”

  “I’m sorry for how I treated you. I’ll talk to you and let you know how I’m feeling in the future. I can’t promise I won’t struggle or find it difficult, but I want to try. I don’t want to be afraid to trust anymore. I want to trust you.

  “Good. I’ve pushed you. You needed it. You’re too strong and stubborn for your own good, but I want us to work. I want to care for you, guide you and protect you. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “How are you feeling now, Princess?”

  “Like I need to get lost in you. Luc, I need you to tell me this is alright, that I can survive you.”

  “You won’t need to survive me, Princess. Come here.”

  I rush to him, desperate to rid the physical barrier between us. His hands knit into the messy knot of hair on the nape of my neck and hold me prisoner.

  “Honesty and trust. You hear me, Jess?”

  “Yes. I will. Please…” I’m not even sure what the plea is for, but I need Luc to take over. I crave his touch and the quiet he brings to my mind.

  “Good.” He smashes his lips into mine—no gentle touch or coax—just a full fronted attack I surrender to completely. Luc’s force obliterates my fears and allows room for only him. The nips of his teeth and rough draw of his stubble make my skin sing and fills me with anticipation. Being with Luc when he dominates me is like an addictive and seductive drug. “Upstairs, Princess. If you want to lose yourself in me, that’s fine, but we do it my way. I want all of your submission, and that includes you talking to me when I ask you a question. Let me be strong for you. Let me do the worrying for you. Understand?” He growls the words between kisses, refusing to give up my mouth. I nod my acceptance, and his hands loosen their grip in my hair. He drags me behind him by the hand. His behaviour mimicks that of a caveman dragging his woman back to his cave.

  Luc might want me submissive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t show him how much I want him. His arms trap me against his muscled body. I struggle against him to rid myself of my coat and clothes. I don’t want anything between us.

  “Stop!” he orders. “This isn’t going to be over in a haze of blistering heat. I want you to understand the depth of feeling that can come from submission and listen to your body, not just your brain. That organ seems to steer you wrong when it comes to me.” I let my coat drop from my hand, but cease my frenzy of undressing. His eyes bore into mine, and I can’t help shying away from his burning stare. “Look at me.” He tips my chin and waits. I look up. “Take off your clothes and lie on the bed. I’ll give you a blindfold that you’ll tie yourself. You’ll answer anything I ask and keep me informed with green, yellow, or red. Before I take you to Solace, we’ll have a conversation about your limits, what you’d like to try and not. Know I will only use toys we’ve already played with. I’ll take it nice and slow so you can adjust and let the sensation build.” The look on Luc’s face has my pulse spiking. He’s standing taller, and he’s unnervingly still. A consuming need grows stronger in the pit of my stomach. All my senses are heightened—the sound of my deep breaths, the nerves in my tummy, the tension in my muscles. An edge of fear adds to my erotic tension. “Yes.” I finally breathe, agreeing to all of Luc’s terms as if there was any real doubt.

  “No more games.”

  “No more games.”

  “Show me.” He commands. I move towards the bed and shed my clothes. My skin tingles as goose bumps teem over me in a rush. I sit back on the bed and slide myself to the middle of the bed before lying back.

  Something soft and feather-light tickles a trail up my leg, over my hip and across my stomach. I tilt my head to see Luc drifting the end of one silk tie along my body. He drops the material into my open palm, and I secure it in place. Darkness covers my eyes, and I relax into it. My actions symbolise that this is my choice and what I want.

  “You’re beautiful, Jess, and I haven’t had nearly enough time exploring you. I warned you I like you begging me, so don’t hold back. I want to hear you answer everything I say, and you need to include your current state.”

  “I won’t be quiet and green.”

  “Good girl.”

  A cool breeze pebbles my nipples, and I gasp.

  “Still lovely and sensitive.” The warmth from his finger-tips registers and brings a wave of heat through my body from his light touch. It doesn’t stay light for long. He squeezes and pinches and my back arches in delicious torture.

  “Beautiful.” He purrs as his fingers trickle down my torso. They skim far too close for comfort to my pussy, which aches in frustration as his fingers continue their journey. They dance and step over my hips and thighs but never get close to offering any relief to the growing fire between my legs. Small pants escape my lips.

  A few more minutes pass—in my head they are minutes—before his fingers still on my body. My cocoon of darkness doesn’t allow me to see what he’s doing or what he’s planning. An earlier Jess would have felt panic rising, but Luc has made me stronger.

  From nowhere I feel a cool prick on my skin. Something sharp makes me jump. Luc keeps the pressure constant for a moment. Small pricks travel in a line of sensation up my thigh. “This is called a Wartenburg wheel. It has a number of sharp points that I’ll roll up and over your skin. It’s up to me how much pain you receive from them.” He presses harder, and the tips dig into my thigh.

  I suck a deep breath in through my teeth as the pain ramps up when he presses into my thigh. It hurts, but as soon as he lifts, it subsides, and I let out a more relaxed breath.

  “Those little sounds you
make as the spikes bite into your skin make me hard, Princess. How are you doing?”

  “Green.”

  The wheel vanishes from my thigh, and I freeze, trying to guess where he’ll use it on me next. I know it won’t hurt, but the edge it holds makes it more… exciting. My teeth grip my bottom lip as I try and hold back the tension now coursing through my body. A spike touches my hip so softly I can barely feel it. Luc wheels it over my hip bone and slowly down towards my pussy. As he inches closer to my mons, he increases the pressure. The bite mixes with my own desire and I can’t help but cry out.

  “Spread your legs, Princess. I want to see your pussy,” Luc’s voice rumbles, and I open my legs. I want to wiggle and fidget to move away from the pain, yet move closer to it. The sensation is a complete mind fuck, and I grip the duvet in frustration. He moves the wheel at a slow, torturous speed, letting each spike make as big an impact as possible. “I can see your little clit all swollen and ready for attention. You’re wet for me and what I can give you.” His movement with the wheel speeds up until he meets my other hip, and when it leaves my skin I sigh loudly. “I could mark you so easily with this—put pretty pink lines all over your skin.”

  It was all a spell, his words, the pain, the touch. I am drunk on lust by submitting to his will. The wheel descends onto my skin again, this time my inner arm. He presses harder than before and I choke back the cry.

  “No, I want to hear everything you feel.”

  My moan is half pain, half desire, and I squirm into the bed. Luc trails the wheel to my shoulder and then brings it down my chest. My skin here is thin. I hiss and scrunch my eyes behind the blindfold. He draws a ring around my breast then draws a ring on my other breast. The spikes bring all of my blood to the surface, and my skin vibrates under his touch. I want the pain on my nipple. I want to feel the zap of desire to my clit that will spur my climax along. I don’t care Luc can see my pussy weep for him. I might burst if he doesn’t fuck me soon. Finally, he indulges me and runs the spikes across my nipple. Red hot pain flares through me. My pussy throbs in response and as my back arches, Luc thrusts his fingers deep inside of me.