by Lexi Blake
He pulled at his own clothes. He wore the same thing he’d worn to dinner. A plain black cashmere sweater over a black T-shirt. He pulled them both over his head and they went the way of the coat, slung to the corner of the room in a random pile. She couldn’t help but stare. His chest was a work of art. It was rather shocking. When he was wearing clothes, there was a blandness to his features that belied the hard state of his body. He was quite cute. She wouldn’t deny that. He was handsome but in a professorial way, not a superpredatory, athletic way, yet his chest told a different tale. Perfectly sculpted and defined, Henry liked to work out. No doubt about it.
She wasn’t close to his level of fitness. She was a little out of shape. She walked a lot, but there was a curve to her belly that never went away no matter how healthy she ate. What would he think when she got her clothes off?
“When I said slow, I didn’t mean a snail’s pace.” He held out his hand.
She took a long breath.
“What’s wrong?”
She hated it but she couldn’t be less than honest with him. “I’m not as pretty as you.”
His dark eyes rolled. “Uhm, I call bullshit on that. You’re far prettier, and I want to see you naked. Are you going to give me hell about it?”
He wanted to see her naked, and she kind of wanted to be naked with him. Totally wanted to be naked with him. She could be a coward or she could try to get what she wanted. If he laughed and walked away, she would rethink her stance on nonviolence. She unbuttoned her coat, passing it to him. Unlike his own clothes, he hung her coat up and held out his hand for her shirt.
She shivered in the still chilly air.
“Damn it, you’re freezing.” His hands went to her feet, pulling her galoshes off and then her socks. His big hands encased her. He put them to his belly, covering them with his palms. Her freezing feet were enveloped in heat, his skin covering her.
It was the sweetest gesture. She was surrounded by his warmth. Her feet. They weren’t sexy. There was nothing even vaguely sexual about her feet. His hands rubbed on her skin. After a moment, he pulled one into his hand and started a long, slow rub that nearly made her purr.
“What do you like, Nell?”
She liked him. Oh, she really liked him. “I like social justice.”
Sexy. That was so sexy. Well, it was sexy to her. Probably not so much with him.
“I was talking about sex. What do you like sexually?” He kept up the press of his thumb against her foot. Her eyes rolled back, the sensation relaxing her like nothing else could have. She wasn’t worried about how she looked. All she could think about was how good Henry was making her feel, and all by simply touching her.
“I have no idea, but I really like the foot rub. It’s making me reconsider pedicures. I’ve heard the technicians at Polly’s Cut and Curl always give a foot rub, but I’ve stayed away because they also use toxic chemicals. Do you think I could get the rub without the chemicals?”
“Nell, are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin?” Henry had stopped his slow rub and stood there staring down at her.
Maybe she shouldn’t admit to that. He didn’t look like he wanted to hear a “yes” to that particular question. “I was trying to tell you about the foot rub.”
His eyes hardened. “Are you a virgin?”
She was going to give lying a really good try. “No.”
He flipped her over, and she nearly screamed when his hand came down on her backside in a short, sharp arc. “Don’t lie to me.”
“You spanked me.” She felt her eyes widen as she turned and looked back at him.
A slow, infinitely sexy smile crossed his face. “And I’ll do it again if you don’t answer me honestly. It’s not like you can hide it, baby. I’ll know the minute I shove my cock inside, so you should tell me now.”
“You spanked me, Henry, and you didn’t even set up limits before you disciplined me. We don’t have a contract.” She wasn’t dumb. She knew how things worked. She’d read an enormous amount of erotic fiction. Not that she mentioned it to any of her protesting friends. They could be strangely judgmental about reading material.
He flipped her back over. He needed to stop treating her like she was a toy he was playing with. She was about to mention that fact to him when he looked down at her with the darkest eyes. “Who’s your Dom?”
“I don’t have a Dom.” She shook her head. “You were right. I’m a virgin. But you should know I have done some kissing in my time. And some heavy petting.”
The truth was she’d led a fairly isolated life when it came to boyfriends. Friends at all. After what had happened to her when she was a kid, she’d kept to herself for fear that saying anything wrong could get her shoved into foster care again.
He didn’t laugh, merely loomed over her, holding her wrists in his hands. “What do you know about contracts and discipline?”
“I read books,” she admitted. He would laugh at her like everyone else.
“You read books?” He chuckled, a deeply amused sound. “Books about BDSM? You read BDSM romances. You read silly romances, don’t you?”
“They aren’t silly. I like them.” He was going to make her cry again. Damn it. Sometimes those stupid books were all that got her through the day. They were her comfort food.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t take it like that. I think it’s sweet.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You read erotica. I wouldn’t have expected that. I like it, Nell. You can read it to me. We can get hot together and we’ll make love.”
“They’re about love you know.” She felt a need to defend her chosen reading.
“Of course they are. You wouldn’t read them otherwise.” Henry’s lips brushed hers, and she started to sink into that nice, drugged feeling she got whenever he was close. “And it makes it easier to explain what I want from you. I want submission.”
“I don’t know that I’m very submissive.” The words came out in a breathy puff that had Henry laughing.
“Not in your normal life, baby, but here you will be. You’ve reacted beautifully any time I’ve taken control. Tell me you’re not getting wet right now.”
“Henry, that’s very forward of you.” And yes, her panties were in a state from attempting to soak up her arousal. She hoped that one hundred percent organically grown cotton would do the job, but she was getting quite damp.
He pushed off the bed and stood over her. “I’m going to get a lot more forward. You need to make a decision. I want to fuck you tonight. I want to be your man for as long as I’m here, and while I’m your man, I’ll be in charge of this part of our lives. I’ll let you take control of everything else.”
She hated that phrase “for as long as I’m here,” but she understood. He was trying to be honest with her. He couldn’t stay here forever. He had a job and a life. This was a brief moment in time. This present moment was all anyone could count on. “All right, Henry. For as long as you’re here.”
“Take off your clothes. I know this is new to you, but you can stop me at any time. No safewords tonight. A ‘no’ will suffice.” He pulled out the chair that accompanied the small desk every single room had. He curled his lean body into it and sat back. “I want to see you naked. I want to see what my little submissive has to offer me.”
His little submissive. She wasn’t all that small, but the way he said it made her feel sexy. “You really want to see me?”
It seemed too good to be true.
“Baby, I can’t fake this.” He scooted his hips out, allowing her to see the way his erection tented his pants.
Wow. That wasn’t some teeny tiny thing. That was a big thing. A really big penis.
“Nell, take your clothes off or we will start the discipline. I’ll start with twenty smacks, and I promise you’ll still be naked at the end of it.”
Well, put that way, she should do it. She could see plainly that he wasn’t going to make this easy on her, and she was okay with that. She could have had any number of men or boys who
would have simply taken her because she was available, but she’d wanted someone who wanted her. Henry’s dark eyes held hers. He wanted her. Nell Finn.
With shaking hands, she pulled the cotton shirt over her head and was left in her plain white cotton bra.
“That’s what I want,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you. Do you understand what I mean? Do your books cover that?”
Tears filled her eyes. Yes, her books covered that. If she did as he asked, they were entering a kind of contract where he would offer her affection and comfort and protection in return for trust and acceptance. All in all, it was a sweet trade and far more honest than anything she’d been offered before. “Yes, Henry.”
“Oh, I like to hear that. No Sirs or Masters. Just ‘yes, Henry.’” He winked at her as his hand found the fly of his pants and started to work the zipper. “Show me your breasts. I’ve been thinking about them since the minute I saw you in Bill’s office. You walked in and I’ve been hard ever since. I’m going to be gentle, but don’t think for a second that I haven’t been hot for you all day long.”
She let the shirt fall to the bed. He was being honest, and she would do the same. She wasn’t some teenager who didn’t understand the world. She knew how it worked. Despite her deep love of happily ever afters, she knew the most she could hope for was a happily ever now. She did kind of wish that organic cotton bras came in more attractive fashions. Hers was pretty industrial looking.
“Slowly. Take it off slowly.”
She reached around and managed to unhook it. She was deeply aware that she was awkward, but Henry didn’t seem to mind. And neither did little Henry, and by little Henry she meant big penis. He pushed aside his pants, kicking them away and freeing his cock. Henry’s cock was large and gorgeous, with a beautiful bulbous head. Thick and purple, it pulsed in his hand as he stroked it up and down. His big hand gripped his dick, running from the base to the bulb as his eyes watched her.
She peeled the bra off slowly, her nipples peaking in the chilly air. She’d been naked plenty of times. Her mother loved it up here at Mountain and Valley. They came up for social hours and parties, and Nell never had a single qualm about getting down to her birthday suit, but it felt different now. She felt his eyes on her. Her nipples were hard pebbles. She was going to lose her virginity. She was going to lose her heart. It suddenly hit her that she would love Henry Flanders after this, and he hadn’t promised her anything.
But nothing was certain. Nothing in the whole world. And love was worth the risk. She couldn’t know that he wanted her for anything more than a night. She could only try. She wanted him. She thought she might be able to really care about him. And if he took her without any caring, that was on him, not her.
But not trying would be on her.
She’d waited for so long, but this was the right man.
She let the bra fall away.
Henry’s sigh filled the room. “You are so fucking gorgeous, baby.”
His beautiful dark eyes were sleepy and yet laser focused on her breasts. She felt them like a hand caressing her. His voice was a deep rich chocolate, and she could hear the approval in it. It ran down her spine, a sweet shiver that went straight to all her girl parts.
“I think you’re lovely, too, Henry.”
A slow smile crossed his face. “You would think that.” His hand ran up and down his thick cock. “Take off your pants. I want to see your pussy.”
Her whole body flushed. How could he talk that way? He didn’t have a single problem with dirty words. She’d always found them repulsive until they came out of his mouth in that dark voice of his. Her hands moved almost of their own volition, curving under the waist of her undies and pushing them down. She tossed them off the bed, and she was completely naked and open to Henry Flanders’s eyes.
He sighed, the sound a long, wanting brush against her body. “That’s just about perfect. You shave. Why?”
“I don’t like the whole hair thing.” She frowned. She sometimes felt she was in the minority in the protesting world. She knew a couple of very smart women who could probably braid their underarm hair. She’d never seen a lack of grooming as a good protesting measure. “I know it’s weird, but I feel better like this.”
“Oh, you look better like that. If you were mine, I would have you lasered. I don’t want anything between me and my pussy.” His hand ran up and down his cock, the length of flesh hard and unrelenting. There was a pearly drop at the tip. His hand flicked over it, using it to make his strokes flow more smoothly. She responded to the sight. Her pussy seemed to pulse as though she could feel everything he was doing to his own cock.
It was wrong. She shouldn’t allow some man to tell her what she would do, but she kind of wanted to, and making the decision for herself was the very essence of feminism. She wanted to play with Henry Flanders. She understood what it meant going in, so she wasn’t fooling herself. He was here for a brief time. She could have him while he was here. She wanted any time he could give her.
Maybe it made her pathetic to be willing to take so little, but it also made her human and a woman. Women never knew what they would get going into a relationship. Women simply cared and hoped for the best and, when they were smart, forgave themselves if it all went to hell. That last bit was the most important part of all. Forgiveness began at home.
“You look so serious, Nell. This is supposed to be fun.”
“It’s supposed to be sacred.”
His face fell. His hand came away from his cock. She’d said the wrong thing. Silence encroached, and she was deeply aware of how vulnerable she was.
“You’re right,” he replied slowly. “It’s a sacred thing for a woman like you. I want to be here with you. I want it more than anything I’ve wanted in a long time, but I don’t know that I can stay here, and I know damn well I won’t bring you into my world. I feel more for you than I’ve felt for any woman in years, but I won’t take something from you that you would rather wait to give. I’m not a good man. I’m rather awful, but I promise I’ll take care of you as long as I’m here. I won’t look at another woman. I’ll only think about you. I’ll be yours one hundred percent while I’m here.”
Could she ask for more? He was being honest. He couldn’t stay and she couldn’t go. She had to take care of her mom. Her mother needed her. She and Henry were worlds apart, but they wanted each other. It was so much harder to be honest. He could have promised her to stay or to take her with him, but he’d been brave. He’d tried to set her expectations. He’d been a real man.
“I still want you, but I’ll be honest with you, too. I can’t go into this telling you that it won’t mean anything to me. It will. I’ll remember you always. You’ll always be my first lover.”
He stood up, and for a second she worried he would run out the door. “I won’t forget you, either. I know you might not believe me, but you’re different from the other women I’ve been with. Even when I leave, you should know that I won’t forget you. All you have to do is tell Bill you need me and I’ll come back. I meant what I said. I’ll take care of you. If you give yourself to me tonight, it means something. It is sacred.”
She couldn’t ask for more than that. “I would like to be with you. For however long you choose to stay.”
His skin flushed, the first real palpable emotion she’d seen in him. He moved toward her, the most serious look on his face. “I’ll stay as long as I can. I want you to believe that. I really want you. I think I need you.”
For the first time since they’d begun, she was the aggressor. She put her hand out, grasping his, pulling him toward her. She was going to be with Henry Flanders tonight. She was going to be his lover. “Come and kiss me, please.”
He needed the politeness. She could see that now. She’d handled him all wrong. People needed different things, and it was wrong to withhold them. Henry needed to be needed. He craved it like a flower needed sunshine. And Nell needed to give. She gave so much, but often to people who didn’t want her
there. What would it feel like to give to someone who truly wanted her?
Henry stared at her like she was some indecipherable mystery, but his knee met the bed and his hands found her skin. Warmth spread across her as he filled the space between them. He took her into his arms.
“You’re screwing up all my plans.” Despite the words he said, she could feel a smile spread across his lips as he kissed her cheek.
“I don’t mean to.” She didn’t mean to screw up anything, but she loved the way his arms curled around her. It felt like caring and protection. It utterly disarmed her. She had nothing to put up between them, no arguments, no talk. What could she say to him besides the obvious?
His forehead nestled against hers. “You might not mean to, but you’re the sweetest bundle of chaos I’ve ever come across. You’re like Pandora. I can’t fucking resist you. I think you might be my downfall.”
His hand came up and cupped her breast and she couldn’t breathe, much less respond. And, quite frankly, she’d always appreciated the Pandora myth. In Greek mythology, Pandora had been the first woman, their Eve. She’d been the one to bring strife into the world, but also she’d been the one to save hope. Humans were nothing without some struggle. Humans fought and overcame and won. Life wasn’t meaningful without a fight.
Love was a fight. Love was something to work for. She wasn’t as naïve as everyone thought she was. She knew that even with a little luck, real love took work.
She wouldn’t get that from Henry. He would leave, but she could have connection, a momentary bond that could prove that love might happen to her someday. And even if it didn’t, she would know what it felt like because she thought she just might love Henry Flanders and that was a beautiful thing.
His lips found hers. She didn’t hesitate this time. She flowered open beneath him. She let him in, his tongue surging past her lips to find synchronicity with hers. His tongue rubbed, lighting her up. His mouth slanted over hers, his hands twisting her body in a sweetly bossy way.