by Alyssa Aaron
If the images in her mind were confusing, the feelings associated with them were far more so. The feelings were deep and intimate. In her fantasy she was not afraid, in fact, she was savoring each thrust of Slade's hard body, luxuriating in the sensations that spiraled and built deep in her core.
Emotionally she was grasping for something ... an openness a depth of connection she'd only brushed against before. There was a sense of wanting to peel away layers of self-protection; to open herself to Slade, so that there was nothing separating them. In her mind's eye she was open and vulnerable, her soul lay bare before him, and yet, she was not afraid or even anxious. She trusted him completely.
The bond that stretched between them seemed pure and deep. There was an awareness that she didn't want to leave the sensation of oneness behind when their mating ended.
He stroked her neck again, the light touch of his fingers halfway between a caress and a tickle drawing her back to the cabin and the fire. The desire to give herself to his control, to experience again the rush of profound tranquility she had experienced when she had submitted to him that morning remained strong as he continued to stroke her neck with fingers that made her nerve endings dance with pleasure.
"Honestly, Kara, how are you doing? Are you feeling more relaxed? More comfortable with me? With our relationship?” he asked.
She could feel his gaze on her, sense his perceptive study of her, almost feel him mentally stripping away superficial layer s as he searched out feelings and desires. His insightfulness and his patience added to her desire to be completely honest, to reach for that level of vulnerability she'd only grasped at before. She swallowed hard and brought her gaze up to meet his. “I feel better—more relaxed in some ways.” She sighed. “But I feel—confused too,” she answered.
"About what sweetheart?” His voice was soft, probing.
She sighed and dropped her gaze as her mind sought frantically for where to begin. “I enjoyed our evening. I appreciate you giving me time, being patient. It was nice not to feel—pressure."
Slade met her gaze levelly. “I meant what I said. I want you to have the time you need to be comfortable with me—with our relationship. No strings. No pressure. My main concern right now is for you to be happy, to be comfortable."
"I am happy, generally."
"But—?” He stroked her neck again spreading tendrils of desire that shot through her.
She dipped her head. “I know you said I didn't have to submit until I'm ready—but—” she gnawed her lip as she sought the right words. “How am I supposed to know if I'm ready?” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to slow her racing thoughts.
"You'll know honey. You'll think about it, dream about it. Thoughts of submitting, of being dominated will drive your fantasies.” He stroked her neck. “It's pretty compelling; it's not something you'll miss."
"But I—” she swallowed hard as the emotions bubbled to the surface. “I—liked what we did this morning. When you were telling me what you wanted me to do and I wasn't thinking about anything except doing it. I felt—complete—peace. I want to feel that again, Slade. I want to submit again."
He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead gently. “You will feel all that and much more, but not yet,” he said softly.
Disappointment stabbed her. “Why?” she asked, frustration and sadness edging her voice. She'd expected him to be happy that she wanted to submit to him. She hadn't expected him to throw bricks in her path.
"Because, Kara the concept of submission still worries you,” he stated looking down at her, his eyes deep with understanding. “And because I'm not willing to risk hurting you again to give you a little short term pleasure."
"Some of it worries me but not all of it,” she sighed.
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out in an effort to ease the hollow disappointment that squeezed her chest. She felt her eyes shift away from his steady penetrating gaze. “It's—the irrevocable nature that scares me."
"How did you come by the notion that submission is somehow irrevocable?” he asked. “I've never thought of it that way."
She shrugged. “I don't know, the internet maybe.” She studied her hands. She felt despondent. Alone. Rejected.
"The internet honey?” he asked tipping her chin so that she was forced to look at him. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"I looked at the internet—before we were married, after you proposed. I looked up dominance and submission and some of those sites mentioned bdsm. I wasn't sure what any of it meant—or what you wanted. There were sites about—-” she swallowed hard, “all kinds of things. It made me feel worse, not better, so I stopped looking."
"God, honey.” He sighed. “I wish you'd asked me. I would have told you anything you wanted to know."
"I didn't feel comfortable asking you then."
"I suppose not, I was the cause of your discomfort,” he answered. “But you feel okay about asking me now?"
She nodded.
"So ... ask away.” He smiled into her eyes and stroked the sensitive hollow of her neck making her stomach tighten with desire. The deep baritone of his voice skittered along her nerve endings and seeped through her. She savored the sweetness of his approval and enjoyed the pleasure that came from knowing she had pleased him, at least a little.
He stroked her hair back from her cheeks, his eyes intent upon her face. “Are you comfortable telling me what scares you about submitting to me?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving her face.
She nodded slowly. She was tired of wondering what he would demand—what the similarities between dominance and submission and bdsm were. She needed to know specifically what he wanted even if in the end, she didn't like what she heard.
Her hands twisted idly in her lap, and she gnawed at her lip as she tried to decide where to begin. Slade gathered her hands into his, and held them securely within his large palms. “Let me have it Kara. What worries you?"
The measured control he exerted over her fidgeting hands calmed her. She raised her gaze to his, and found his expression filled with empathy. “One of the sites I visited on the internet dealt with something called,” she struggled to remember the term, “total power exchange, or something like that I think."
"You didn't like what you saw at the site?” he guessed.
She shook her head sharply. “Being treated like that—” she drew a deep breath and let it go. “It would be too much like—"
Slade watched as her eyes took on the sad, far away look they sometimes got when she was thinking about the past. He understood. Surrendering all her power and being treated like a slave would be too much like what had been done to her when she was a child, when what little power she'd had as a child had been taken against her will.
He lifted his hand and stroked her neck gently, drawing her gaze and her attention back to him. “What did you see that upset you?"
Her eyes held his. “There were people who had cuts from being hit with canes and things. Some were being held down and burned—branded. Some were being stuck—um—all over with needles—"
Slade drew a deep breath. “I think you're misinterpreting what you saw honey. I know it seemed extreme to you. It seems that way to me too—” He sighed as he stroked her neck. “The truth is things aren't always the way they seem. Not everyone that embraces total power exchange enjoys those extremes. In fact, most don't."
"You're sure?"
He smiled down at her, loving her innocence and the gentleness of her spirit. “Yes, I'm pretty sure.
"What you wandered into on the internet was at the extreme end of things, but even so, the people you saw were enjoying what they were doing. There are people who derive pleasure from pain, the same as there are people who derive pleasure from inflicting pain."
"It's hard to imagine someone enjoying being burned or beaten to the point that they have cuts all over,” Kara said softly.
"Some people find it hard to believe that anyone could enjo
y giving their power to another person. But you enjoyed surrendering to me this morning.” He arched an eyebrow, and stroked her cheek. “Some people would have felt out of control and anxious, yet you felt peace. People experience things differently."
She swallowed hard. “Is total power exchange what you want?” He watched her gaze shift down till it rested somewhere in the vicinity of her lap. She was nibbling her lip again, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
He turned the question around in his mind. Was total power exchange what he wanted? If he was honest, he did want that kind of power over Kara. More because he wanted the total absolute trust that went with it than for any other reason.
He wasn't a stranger to the sharper edges of dominance and submission. He enjoyed rough play, pushing his submissive to the edge with the extremes of pain and pleasure. He found the power erotic and exhilarating, but with Kara his dominance was different. It was softer. He didn't want to push her to the rougher edges between pleasure and pain he wanted to wrap her up in softness and war mth and give her peace, contentment, joy. As he thought about it he realized he hadn't missed the harsher edges where he'd played before.
He stroked her cheek and urged her chin upward until she was looking up at him. “Maybe someday when we've been married a long time and you have complete and total confidence in my ability to live up to the amount of trust that kind of submission would require, but that's a long time in the future.” He met her gaze steadily. “It's a deep commitment honey, a lot different in reality than it is on the internet."
"If someday we did that, would you—” She sucked a deep breath.
"No honey, even then I wouldn't whip you to the point of leaving cuts. I don't want to hurt you, physically or mentally. I'd rather use your submission to give you pleasure.” He reached for the glass of brandy she'd placed on the coffee table and took a drink. “Want some?” he offered. She took the glass he extended toward her and took a tentative taste. “Um, it's sweet,” she said taking another sip.
"It'll warm you up if you're still cold."
"I can tell,” she practically purred. “I feel warm inside."
He stroked her neck. She shifted toward him, raising her gaze to his. “Are you feeling better? Anything else you want to ask me?” he asked gently.
He knew from the way her gaze dropped to her lap that there was more she wanted to know. He watched as she shifted under his watchful gaze, twisting her hands in her lap and as her gaze climbed his shirt front. He itched to question her, to probe in ways that would make it easier for her to ask what she wanted to know, but he held back. She needed to learn to come to him with things that worried her. She would never learn if he made it easy every time.
He remained patient while she took another sip of brandy.
"I know submission is important to you, that it's something you want. You told me that from the beginning.” She paused for breath, seemed to gather her thoughts, then went on. “You're a nice man Slade. You are honorable and dependable and trustworthy—all things I needed for a long time without really knowing it—” She sucked a deep breath. “When you suggested we go our own ways I realized I didn't want to go.” She lifted her eyes, gifting him with a glimpse of deep brown. “Sometimes I feel like I just take from you and don't give anything back.” She sighed. “I want to be able to make you happy and I'm afraid you will want more than I am able to give."
"You worry too damned much,” he growled. You need to relax and trust me,” he said softly. “In the first place, I know about the rape, I'm not going to ask you to do anything that I think will hurt you.” He stroked her cheek. “I also know you're not very experienced. If I ask you to do something I don't think you know how to do I'll explain it or show you."
She leaned her cheek into his palm. “It seems like such a big step, such a serious step."
"It is and it isn't,” he sighed. “It's serious in that once we agree on something I will hold you to it. I don't think you will find it any more difficult to comply with my requests than you found it this morning. You can trust me to take care of you Kara. That one thing is at the heart of all of it.” He stroked her cheek, his gaze intense as it rested on her. “I understand that you're nervous and a little afraid but I'll go very slowly.” He stroked the hair away from her cheeks. “I don't want to hurt you any more than you want to be hurt."
Kara pressed her cheek into his palm and looked up at him, her eyes dark against her face. He loved being the recipient of her trust and would do nothing to damage that fragile bond.
They fell into a companionable silence. He stroked her hair, enjoying the softness of it as it glided through his fingers. He felt the remaining tendrils of tension ease from her.
"I want to submit Slade,” she said. Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it over the pop and crackle of the fire. “There are parts of it that I don't understand, but I trust you and...” she let out a deep shuddering breath. “I want you to ... um ... help me learn what I need to do to be a good submissive."
He sighed deeply and pulled her closer, cradling her head against his chest, absorbing her sweetness and the pleasure that coursed through him at her simple declaration of trust and submission. “For now you don't need to do anything other than what you're doing. I want you to sleep on this decision. Be sure this is what you want. Sometimes—when people get caught up in something and they want something very badly it clouds their decision making ability. Sleep on it tonight. If you still want to submit to me in the morning we'll talk about it some more."
"I am sure. I don't need to sleep on it."
"Shhh,” he said softly. “Do it anyway."
Chapter 19
Kara awoke to the dusty fingers of dawn that crept through the shades streaking the room with shafts of pink and purple. She glanced toward the bathroom. The light was still on, the bathroom door still slightly ajar to allow the reassuring pool of light just the way Slade had arranged it before he'd followed her into bed the night before.
She sighed contentedly. He was such a nice man. He'd been constantly protective and considerate. She smiled feeling soft inside, utterly cared for, as she remembered how he'd turned on the bathroom light and adjusted the door so that the pool of light that fell in a comforting circle advanced far enough into the room to provide her relief from the terror of waking in the dark.
He was so strong. Dependable. She snuggled closer to him, enjoying the clean male scent of him and the safety she felt as he shifted toward her, his arm tightening around her, safeguarding her even in his sleep.
She forced herself to relax, although she felt jittery and tense. “Good morning Master.” She practiced the words in her mind, repeating them again and again until she was sure she had them down pat and wouldn't falter when the time came to greet him. He had asked her to sleep on her decision the night before, but she believed that the simple greeting would let him know she wanted to give her submission, that she was serious about the commitment.
Her thoughts drifted. With those words she would relinquish her control and welcome his control over her. Did she know him well enough? Did she trust him enough to agree to promise to bend her will to his?
She knew he wasn't selfish. He hadn't shown himself to be the kind of man to put his own wants and needs ahead of her feelings. In fact, quite to the contrary, he had proven himself to put her feelings first even to his own detriment.
The few times she had surrendered, bending her will to his still resonated in her mind, drawing her back and making her want to feel again the spiral of physical pleasure and the sensation of being safe that had come with her surrender. She thought it strange that the sense of utter contentment and safety had come not with maintaining a death grip on her own power but on giving up control and trusting Slade.
She yearned to experience again the strange sensation of giving up her power only to have her physical and emotional needs so completely met that she longed for nothing.
She knew the experience of surrendering her will
had fundamentally changed her. Perhaps it was that she realized that Slade hadn't taken her power and used it to weaken her. When he had used his power over her he had used it to ferret out her needs, and then to meet each one. The sensation of being so completely cared for was like an addictive drug that she yearned for more of.
Her thoughts wandered. She thought about all the things he could ask of her, some of them things she would enjoy, and others things she might not enjoy. Still, she resolved to obey the instructions he gave her. He had been understanding and patient, surely that would continue when she promised her submission.
She rolled over and watched Slade as he slept. His dark hair was tousled against the pillow, the arm that wasn't across her midsection held his pillow, his plain gold wedding ring a dull pink gold in the morning light. The dark shadow of his morning beard added a rakish appearance to his otherwise smooth features.
The truth was she wanted more than just the security and pleasure that had come with her submission to Slade. She wanted to submit to him because he wanted her submission, because he valued it. She wanted to submit because she was falling in love with him and she wanted to please him. She wanted to make him smile, make him laugh.
In just a few short hours she'd come to depend on his patience, his understanding, but also his direction and the steady pressure he wasn't afraid to assert when the situation required it. He'd made her do things she hadn't had the nerve to do since she was kidnapped.
Her mind drifted to the clothes that filled the closet. Although it had been difficult for her to even consider clothing in colors that would draw attention to her, he'd urged her to try on sweaters in soft fabrics and pretty colors. Then he'd teased and cajoled until she gave in and let him buy them for her. Having the blouses and sweaters and jeans that didn't bag on her was like getting a piece of her life back. In some ways it felt like she was slowly coming out of the dark abyss where she had hidden, afraid to come out, since she was seven.