Intense 2

by Hebert, Cambria

  I deliberately licked my lips, wanting her to imagine them on her, my tongue on her. I wanted her to think of me as in control and sexual, focused on her pleasure.

  "If it's all about me, then let me decide on the pace,” she said, still a little resistant, but I could tell she was afraid of herself, not me. She was afraid of falling.

  "I will," I said, wanting to reassure her. "This is just me trying to assure you that I want you. You don't have to worry about that part of things. This is now all up to you. Like I said, I'm sending you a revised agreement with my preferences later tonight when I get back to my apartment, but if you've read my letters, you already know most of it. I want you to strike off what you don't want to try and include everything you do want. Then we can negotiate."

  "How soon would you," she said and hesitated in a totally endearing and submissive way. "Usually start things?"

  "We can have sex right away, if you want." I deliberately stared into her eyes, enjoying how vulnerable she was, her pretty green eyes wide, her cheeks pink. "Tonight. But it will take time before you're ready for the bondage. I won't move too fast for you. You'll decide when we start."

  She swallowed nervously. "So, we just go somewhere and have sex?"

  "My place or yours?" I couldn’t hold back a smile. She really was so sweet and almost innocent. "Kate, have you never just had casual sex with anyone? A one-night stand?"

  "No,” she said softly, shaking her head. “I've always known them first. Dated. Never sex on a first date or a one night stand."

  "You've never wanted to fuck a man you just met?" I said, trying to coax it out of her. I wanted her to admit her desires freely. Doms and subs had to be open and honest about their needs and desires.

  She avoided my eyes. "I've been attracted to men I've met, but I can't just have sex with someone right away."

  "Why not?"

  "Because," she said, frowning. "This is embarrassing."

  "Kate, you have to be honest. You have to get over your shyness with me. Tell me. Why can't you just fuck me tonight?"

  She took in a deep breath. "It's so …intimate. Being naked with someone? Letting them touch your skin? Opening your legs to them? Letting them inside your body? It's so … you're so …vulnerable."

  She finally looked in my eyes, as if hoping I could understand. I did. I knew that submissives often felt incredibly restrained by society’s conventions. Submission allowed them to give in to their own desires and enjoy themselves for the first time.

  "Thank you for being honest."

  I leaned in and kissed her and she let me. There. She didn’t pull back and reject me. She let me feed her. She let me kiss her. She’d let me fuck her before the night was out.

  When the waitress came with our soup, I broke the kiss and sat back, a bit surprised at the surge of adrenaline in me at the prospect we’d fuck. As I was pulling back, I stared at her lovely mouth and saw once more the tiny scar on her bottom lip.

  "What happened here?" I touched it, running my finger over the small scar.

  "I fell when I was a kid."

  "Don’t tell me – wearing your mother's high heels during a dress-up game?"

  She shook her head and fought with a smile, adjusting the napkin in her lap. "Stilts."

  "Stilts? You?" I grinned widely at the image of Kate as a small girl trying to walk with stilts. It jibed with what Ethan said about Kate trying to keep up with the older kids.

  She wanted so much to please… I wanted so much for her to please me. Of course, pleasing me meant she let me tie her to my bed and make her come multiple times.

  Win-win.

  "So," I said, spooning some sour cream into her soup, "tell me about flyboy."

  "How do you know about him?" she said and frowned.

  "Lara told me."

  "I'd rather not. Can't we talk about something else?"

  "This is important,” I said, for I had to get her to open up about her past sexual experiences and the pilot who tried to introduce her to BDSM – very inexpertly – was the most important piece of her background I wanted. “I need to understand what happened, what he did, how you responded. It will help me know what to do to make you relax and trust me."

  She sighed in resignation. "I don’t like talking about him. He's a bad memory."

  "I need to know why your memory of him was bad. Look, he obviously made mistakes with you. He was a total amateur. I won't make those mistakes. Besides, think of this as research. You tell me what he did, and I'll tell you where he went wrong and how I'd do it properly. If we never do anything more, at least you'll understand."

  She said nothing for a moment, stalling for time. "I met him through Doctors Without Borders. He used to fly people into remote camps as a volunteer. He was doing his MBA when we started to date."

  "How soon did you have sex with him?"

  "A couple of weeks. We went out for coffee a lot at first, and then had dinner. Then we went to a movie and he came over and we had sex."

  "What was it like for you the first time? Did you come?"

  She exhaled heavily and glanced at me, frustration with my persistence clear on her face. "Are you going to ask for a moment by moment accounting of our relationship?"

  "Yes." I turned back to my soup and took a spoonful. "I need details to understand what your experience was and why it went wrong. So," I said again. "Did you come the first time?"

  That was pushing the envelope, but I knew that if she answered, I was on my way to having her reveal even more. I wanted to know what worked and what didn’t.

  "No, I didn't. It took a while. But I did eventually."

  "What did it? What was it that allowed you to have an orgasm?"

  She glanced at me. "You sound like a sex therapist."

  That made me smile. "That's one way of thinking about me. But seriously, what did you do that allowed you to orgasm?"

  "I don't know." Now she was sounding frustrated. She glanced around as if afraid that people would overhear us. "We were a bit drunk, and I just, I don’t know… I was more relaxed. He did things for a long time and I was more ready."

  "How exactly did he work you up?" I said, knowing I might be going over the line even more firmly. I had to keep pushing. She’d never reveal anything on her own.

  "Drake! We're having supper."

  I smiled. "I'm not asking because I want to become aroused. I'm asking so I understand what you need. What you like. A Dom must trust his sub to tell the truth at all times. She must trust him enough to tell the truth. Otherwise, it won't work."

  "I thought that was what the agreement is for."

  "It is but we have to talk openly. I want you to get used to being totally honest with me about sex. You can say anything. Anything. I've heard it all."

  "Not from my lips."

  "No, not from your lips," I said, smiling. "And I can't wait to hear it from your lips in particular. I happen to love your lips, especially your scar. All I can think of when I'm with you is kissing you, licking your scar, sucking your lips, biting them. And I mean both sets." I licked my lips again for emphasis and bit my bottom lip, knowing it would make her think of me licking her, but also think of those books.

  They titillated her. They made her want it for herself. I wanted to be the one to give it to her.

  Oh, I was no sadist, which was her fear. I wasn’t into humiliation, which was another fear of hers. I wasn’t into anything but sexual domination. Using her body for my own pleasure, which of course, meant giving pleasure to her.

  Having total control over a woman’s body – of her sexual response? It was what drove me.

  "So, enough about your delicious lips that I want to suck and lick and bite. Tell me about flyboy. When did he start to introduce the idea of BDSM into your relationship?"

  "After the books came out and it was on the news."

  "What did you think at first?"

  "I read the books but I didn't want it,” she said and I knew she was lying. She did want it, but
it scared her. “I thought BDSM was about men who hated women and just wanted an excuse to hit them and get away with it. I thought it meant I wasn’t good enough the way I was. He wanted me to shave. He wanted to do anal. He wanted to spank me. He wanted me to let him mock-rape me."

  "And how did that make you feel?"

  She frowned as if the answer as obvious. "Upset, of course. I had just started to enjoy sex and then he starts with all this kinky stuff that scared me and made me feel inadequate. Why wasn't I good enough as I was?"

  I finished my soup and sat back, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "For someone with a kink, plain old orgasms aren't enough. It's like eating vanilla ice cream after you've had chocolate truffle. You can eat it but it's not the same pleasure."

  "You and Lara," she said and smiled. "With the ice cream metaphor. Except vanilla ice cream is still sweet. Anal and mock rape aren't."

  "They can be,” I said, and it was then I realized how sheltered she had been. Flyboy hadn’t known how to initiate her into the pleasures of anal. I wouldn’t make that mistake. A lot of women were shocked to realize they can orgasm during anal sex. “It's all in your preparation and build-up. Flyboy should have studied BDSM before he ever tried anything. He should have gone to someone and been trained like I was. I know how to do this, Kate. You can relax."

  "So, is this dinner and this talk part of how to do this?"

  She said it while avoiding my eyes so I had to bend down a bit, catch her eye.

  "Not my usual MO," I said, for it was the truth. I usually didn’t give a running narrative with explanations of why I was asking and doing certain things. But she was a student. She wanted to learn. I loved to teach. "But the general approach is the same. I have to find out what a sub needs and if we're compatible. Sometimes, I have to seduce them a bit."

  "So, in your mind, you're seducing me right now."

  I smiled. "I hope so."

  Her cheeks reddened once again and I could have leaned over and kissed her right then, chuckling at how open she was despite her unwillingness to say the words. Her body betrayed her. I relied on it.

  "What do you hope will happen?"

  I moved closer to her and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

  "I hope," I said, speaking softly. "I hope that we'll continue to talk like this, with you telling me in intimate detail what you did that made you feel pleasure and what he did that scared you. Then I hope you'll agree to take me to your apartment. I hope that you'll agree to let me fuck you tonight so that the first time is out of the way. I promise to make you come at least twice if you do. Nothing will happen tonight in terms of bondage and dominance. It's too soon. But it's not too soon for us to fuck, given our obvious mutual attraction."

  "This is all too, I don’t know – clinical."

  She was still resisting me.

  "I thought you wanted to understand. I thought if I explained everything, you'd feel more comfortable. I can just do it, if you'd prefer. Just train you without explaining."

  She said nothing for a moment as if considering. "You seem to have this all plotted out."

  "I do. It's my specialty. I like to study a problem. I like to break it down into its parts. I like to create a strategy for solving it, lay out all the steps. I like to follow through."

  "So I'm a problem?"

  "I want you as my submissive. The problem is how I can get you to submit. I have to understand you, what you need and want in order to have you, satisfy your needs. Will you at least consider my request?" I looked deeply into her eyes.

  She glanced away, unable to hold my gaze as if embarrassed by her desires. "I'm thinking."

  "Good,’ I said, deciding then to move to another topic. She was obviously unnerved and while I wanted her to feel out of her element and in mine, I didn’t want her to get mad. “Now, tell me about your love of the fine arts. Do you paint or draw?"

  We talked about her studies and how she felt her father disapproved of her interest in the arts. I thought it was strange that Ethan would be anything but supportive of Kate and whatever she decided. It didn’t seem in character.

  She surprised me once more when talk turned to her mother and whether she encouraged Kate’s love of art.

  "You want to talk about submissives? I think that sometimes, mother was afraid of him."

  That surprised me once more. I couldn’t imagine Ethan, who I knew as a jovial mentor, making his own family afraid. Perhaps in my haste to welcome Ethan’s attention, I misjudged him. "He wasn't violent was he?"

  She shook her head. "No. He just has this way… You know when he disapproves. He doesn't even have to say anything."

  "Sounds like an old bastard,” I said, wanting to be sympathetic even as I had a hard time accepting it. “So, now, instead of writing about politics, you're writing about culture and the arts. That's a good compromise. You're a very good writer."

  "Thank you," she said, and I could tell she was beginning to calm down, warm up a bit. "It makes me happy to be able to write about what I really love."

  The rest of our food came and I cut up the Pelmeni and held the fork for her to eat.

  "Here," I said, "taste this. It's so good."

  She took the food willingly off my fork and I couldn’t help but smile in triumph as she ate it.

  She closed her eyes. "That's so good!"

  I smiled. "I love that face."

  I imagined her closing her eyes when I touched her naked body. Hopefully I would know in an hour or so, if I took extreme care. "I bet it's like your orgasm face. At least, I hope so."

  I could see her trying not to respond to that in her body language. She hesitated and blinked several times. "Do you talk like this to all your submissives?"

  "Like what?" I bit back a laugh at her forwardness, which I enjoyed. I didn’t want to insult her, but I wanted to play a bit. Loosen her up.

  I ordered another round of Anisovaya from the cocktail waitress. It would help loosen her up a bit as well.

  "So," I said, lowering my voice. "Will you take me to your place tonight and let me fuck you and make you come at least twice?"

  She had regained enough composure from my last comment and was unfazed. She stabbed a Pelmeni with her fork. "I don't know if I can – tonight."

  "But maybe some night? That's a step forward,” I said, not wanting to admit defeat – yet. I still had a few weapons in my seduction arsenal. “Look, if you're unsure about sex, just let me come over and see your apartment at least. I'd love to see what your apartment looks like from the inside instead of just what your peephole looks like. Besides,” I said and leaned a bit closer, smiling. “If you make me stay outside, Mrs. Kropotkin might call the cops if she thinks I'm harassing you. You're an artist. I'd love to see your art. "

  She was unable to hide her smile. "You want to come in and see my etchings?"

  "I really do want to see your art. I want to know you, Kate. Your art is part of you."

  "You don't need to see my art to be my Dom."

  She was right of course. I didn’t have to see her apartment or her art to be her Dom. I wanted to see her apartment and her art so I could understand her better. I was damn curious.

  "Look, Kate, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself. If you change your mind and want to fuck me, you'll have to make the move."

  She looked in my eyes as if trying to determine if she could trust me. She could – I would never force a woman. I had no interest in real resistance. Only the kind that the sub wanted as part of role playing. I got off seeing a woman willingly turn over her power to me, making herself vulnerable, trusting me completely. Force was the very opposite of that.

  When we finished our main course, the waiter brought us the blini with whipped cream. I fed it to her, enjoying watching her eat and savor the delicious dessert.

  She opened her mouth and let me feed her the crepe, closing her eyes and murmuring in delight.

  "I love it when you close your eyes like that," I said. "But when I make you come, you'
ll keep your eyes open and focused on mine."

  That threw her, but not as much as before. We’d been making small talk – mostly about the restaurant and its history in the city so my comment came out of the blue. I hoped she was imagining me making her come in some manner. What did she prefer? Oral? Intercourse? I’d do both of course. I’d make her come once through oral and then I’d fuck her and make her come again.

  She was quiet and I wondered if she wasn’t thinking the same thing.

  "What's going on in that too-intelligent mind of yours?" I said, seeing that she was overthinking.

  She frowned. "Why am I too intelligent? You said you didn't like stupid women…"

  I laughed. "I should have said too active mind. Sometimes very intelligent women over-think certain things – like sex and pleasure. You have a very responsive body, Kate. You should just free yourself to feel."

  "Women are always wet, you know," she said, her voice irritated. "You're a doctor. You should know that from your Gynecology rotation."

  "Not that wet." I smiled, remembering how wet she was. It sent a rush of blood to my dick. "Don't be embarrassed. I was hard as a rock so we're even."

  "You seem so certain of yourself."

  "You like that I'm so certain of myself." She did. She was attracted to me. She might feel safer with a milquetoast of a man who deferred to her and was sweet and gentlemanly, but she wouldn’t get wet for him. "If I wasn't, what kind of Dom would I be?" I held a fork up to her mouth. "You have to believe that I'm dominant for this to work. If you doubt my ability to take control over you, you'll never be able to yield power. That's key." If she could admit it to herself, she’d finally let go and be happy but she was fighting with herself every step of the way.