by Cynthia Dane
Well-earned confidence, if sometimes misguided.
The kiss she gave Leah could have ended them both if she didn’t maintain control of the situation. Leah was already in that headspace that could take over at any moment. She wouldn’t mean to do it, of course. That was the point. She was the one allowed to escape into any corner of her mind. She was the passive player, the one who received, accepted, and created the mood Sloan enjoyed. If Leah cried in fear or pain, then Sloan knew to abort mission and focus on nothing but Leah’s well-being. If she gasped in ecstasy, then the night continued with fervor. If she sincerely questioned, paused, or went too deep with no hope of returning on her own, then Sloan needed to know how to redirect the energy.
It was a daunting task. It was also why people loved to say that the submissive ones were truly the ones with power. The power to make or break the night, maybe. For Sloan, the fantasy was having the damned power. The further Leah retreated into herself, the more power Sloan gained.
The more power there was to abuse. No. That won’t be me. I can change. I can learn from the old mistakes.
Pressure. So much pressure. Yet when Sloan kissed her girlfriend, their first passionate taste since their reunion, all that pressure melted away.
She wanted to push Leah down and take her, now. She wanted to ravish her supple body, taste her nectar, and make her come so hard, that Leah never had to suffer an agonizing thought again. There would be no memories of that morning. No anxiety about her future. No regrets of her past. There was only here. Now. Sloan was her chance to escape. A mere vessel for transcending the mortal punishments everyone was born with, and few learned to avoid.
Sloan pulled back before she fell too deep into that kiss. She gasped into Leah’s mouth, aware that her whole body now ached from the embers burning in the depths of her being. Control was of the utmost importance. Failure to control her own lust would dismantle everything they needed from tonight.
“Do you want to play a game, kitten?” She asked that with teeth on Leah’s lips and hands squeezing her breasts. Leah rocked back and forth from the pressure erupting between them. Her acquiescence to do whatever Sloan wanted echoed in the hotel suite.
Good. Because Sloan knew how to play games.
“I’m going to bend you over this bed and spank you until your ass is red and you’re so wet that you’re begging for me to take advantage of it. Does that sound pleasant to you?”
“Yes…”
“Hold on.” Did Leah not hear the part where Sloan was going to help her turn around? Because Leah was already shimmying off the edge of the bed, vying to get into position. “That’s not a good enough game. There have to be rules, right?”
Even blindfolded, Leah looked exasperated enough to turn into a ghost.
“You’re going to tell me everything you want to forget. When you feel the spank, you’re going to release that thought into oblivion, and you’re not allowed to think about it for the rest of the night. Does that sound fair?”
Leah nodded, her vigor inspiring Sloan to lift her off the bed and turn her around.
Now.
How did she get away with such an irresistible body? It took amazing restraint for Sloan to not shove her face into every fold presented to her the moment Leah bent over the bed, skirt hiked up her thighs and hair splayed around her head in a torrent of dark brown curls. Perfect for grabbing. God, help me.
Sloan pushed the skirt up Leah’s torso. Her hot pink underwear was cut to accentuate her firm ass. God. Help. Me. Take them off? Leave them on? Either way, Sloan was screwed.
She gave Leah a practice tap. A groan eked from her lips, muffled only by the bed. Her hands twitched behind her back. This would either be the most fun Sloan ever had, or the end of her life.
“What’s the first thing you want to forget? Tell me, then ball it up in your brain. It’s going in the trash as soon as I spank you.”
Leah lifted her head far enough to speak. “This morning. I want to forget how scared I was before you stepped in and slapped that man.”
There’s a nice memory. If nothing else, Sloan could strike smacking that bastard upside the head off her bucket list. Instead of smacking him again, though, she’d channel that energy into slapping Leah’s left ass cheek.
She didn’t feel it as well as Leah did. The soreness would come to Sloan’s hand later, after a dozen spanks did their worst to her skin. But for that first one, the crack of her hand was enough to satisfy her need to touch and procure a reaction. A delayed reaction, but Leah did not hold back when she jerked forward and yelped into the comforter.
Sloan moved aside the taut fabric covering Leah’s pussy. A sheen of wetness had appeared since they began their scene, but it wasn’t enough to give Sloan the high she craved. That would come with a few more smacks to Leah’s soft ass.
“What’s next?”
Leah moaned. Either a reaction to the pleasure now overcoming her, or how she truly felt about what she wanted to say next. “Anxiety,” she squeaked. “My job. I feel creatively trapped and I don’t make much, but I’m afraid to strike out on my own. I might screw it up.”
Sloan related to that much too well. Which was why she put in extra effort into the next smack that pinkened Leah’s skin.
Yet it wasn’t that sound that aroused her. It was the cry of relief erupting from Leah’s covered mouth. I could listen to that all night.
“Give me another one, darling.”
Leah didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t know what to do about my family. I feel so weak near my mother, and my little… I worry about her. I don’t know how to tell her how much I love her. I don’t know if I’m her mother or her sister!”
Sloan hesitated. Jesus, Leah. That had caught her only a little off guard, and further proved that some things still did not leave the mind even when sex was involved. Leah’s subconscious had coughed up that little nugget about Karlie, not because it felt appropriate to do so, but because it was desperate to let that panic go.
The sad thing? Sloan could still relate.
“I want to let go of the jealousy I feel for you. At least you knew your options. At least you were an adult when it happened to you.”
Sloan bent down and lovingly kissed Leah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Please,” Leah begged, “make it go away.”
Sloan would. That was her role, after all. Having that pain rush up her arm when she spanked Leah was cathartic for them both.
She initiated a break after that. Not a break from each other, though. That would be careless in Leah’s increasingly fragile state. A break from the intensity, though, was necessary. While Leah caught her breath and gently grinded against the bed, Sloan covered her arms, the back of her neck, and her thighs in tender kisses meant to calm Leah’s frazzled nerves.
Well, she’s wet now. The scent hit Sloan as soon as she kissed Leah’s thigh. She indulged in one quick lick of her lover’s slit before jumping up and saying, “Last one. Then I won’t be able to stop myself from ravishing you.”
Tears were in Leah’s eyes. Sloan had a moment of panic before she realized they were tears of relief, not pain or fright.
“What is it, my treasure?”
Leah lifted her head. Tears continued to slowly slide from beneath her blindfold. “I want to forget what you might or might not feel for me. Please. Make it go away.”
That one hit Sloan harder than if Leah had accused her of being incapable of love. The thing that worried Leah the most… the thing bearing the most weight upon her heart right now… it was whether Sloan could ever love her? Want her? Keep her forever? Protect her from the darkness of the world and the shadows lurking in every corner? God damnit, what good was Sloan’s money and influence if she couldn’t make someone like Leah feel like nothing else in the world mattered… except their love?
Love. Please, don’t tell me… I really am in love with her.
Sloan had opened her heart to the possibility of love, that was all. The thought she
might actually be in love with Leah already… that was too hard. Too much to bear. She was her girlfriend, not her eventual wife.
A wife. I could have a wife instead of a husband. How had she not thought of it like that until that moment?
“You know what?” Sloan kept her tone even, although her heart pumped so much blood through her body that she almost choked on the beats. “You don’t have to worry about that. Ever. Because if there’s anything I can assure you tonight, Leah, it’s that I love you.”
That last spank would have broken bonds if they weren’t already so strong.
Chapter 33
With every spank came relief… and a reminder of everything holding Leah back from her fullest potential.
Her job, her family, her relationship… they were only three facets of her life, but they were the most important, the most overbearing fears and hopes to infect her soul over the past thirty years. How had Sloan known how to kill them in one night? Perhaps it was only a temporary fix, but for now, when the jolts of exquisite pain came in four steady strokes, Leah was allowed to float away on a cloud that had never existed before.
Or maybe it had. Maybe it had always floated before her, asking her to join it on a nighttime ride once or twice a week, but she had been too blind to see it.
Sloan had told her to wad up her fears and expel them with every spank. Well, it happened. The moment Leah thought of something, she quickly forgot it again. Soon, there was nothing left except the intense need to simply be.
And to make love, but only because Sloan was there, and no number of blindfolds could make Leah forget how beautiful her lover was.
Lover.
Love.
She loves me?
That was the elation she needed to hop on that cloud and blast off into the heavens. As soon as the pain of that final spank subsided, Sloan planted her tongue between Leah’s thighs and made sure she felt nothing but intense sexual pleasure.
It worked. Now barren of negative, toxic thoughts, Leah embraced the wilder side of sex. The hedonistic urges to pursue nothing but pleasure were now her best friends, her companions, her old lovers. She hoped Sloan had the same thoughts.
The best part about ascending with that cloud was losing all track of time. Nothing was linear anymore. One minute Leah was on her stomach, dress on and her girlfriend eating her out as if the end of the world quickly approached and this was their last chance to taste what made them human. The next? Perhaps they were naked together beneath the covers. Maybe Sloan kissed her with cum-drenched lips and demanded some attention between her own legs. It was also possible that neither happened. It happened twice. A loop occurred. Over, over, over again. They couldn’t be stopped. They couldn’t make sense of what their bodies did. All Leah embraced was the burning knowledge that this was what it meant to achieve nirvana.
Could it be described as orgasmic? Or was it limited to pure mental ability, and her body shaking in endless orgasm was a mere side effect? Was it the mutual love they shared? The expert skill with which they physically communicated? Or had they achieved a spiritual plane that only couples like them understood?
This is what I always wanted. A lover who understood her need to relinquish control, because everyday life was stifling. A woman who posed no threat and was instead a harbinger of female pleasure. A partner who could absorb her fears and tribulations, as if she lived on the sustenance those emotions provided. A symbiotic marriage that could only be achieved by their extreme – yet complementing – personalities.
Not a single word was shared for the rest of their lovemaking. Whether they were tangled beneath the covers, where their bodies became as “one” as possible, an endless loop of one beginning where the other ended, or they stretched across the top of the bed to better enjoy the moment, they were silent aside from the moans and cries of two people celebrating what made them unique.
The longer it went on, the closer Leah came to achieving nirvana. She didn’t fear anything. She didn’t worry, have anxiety, or fretted about what would happen come tomorrow. Her heart was only open to Margaret Sloan, the woman who had freed her from the invisible chains holding her to the earth.
Unfortunately, the higher one climbed, the easier it was for her to fall.
“Oh, God!” Sloan’s voice cracked as the wail she saved only for orgasm took her out for the rest of the night. Her fingers were inside her lover, and Leah would never remember where her fingers were, or what her mouth did, or how she contributed to this glorious moment ruining Sloan’s life. All she knew was that this was the purest moment either of them had shared with another human being.
They lay in stillness for most of the night. Leah was frozen beneath Sloan’s body, lightly clinging to her in the hopes that she would never leave. Time may no longer be linear, but at some point, they would resume their lives in the way they were meant to be experienced.
Leah didn’t know how it happened. All she knew was that one moment she was married to peace, and the next?
Crashing.
It had happened before, but not like this. Because halfway down, she came face to face with every single fear she had thrown into the ether only a few seconds before. She looked them in the eyes and realized she would never, ever truly be rid of them.
She crashed through the floor, lower than when she started at the beginning of the night.
Tears. Cries. Sobs of great displeasure.
The torrent of mortal emotions washing over her was enough to traumatize her. How horrific! Couldn’t she catch a fucking break? How freeing had it been to fly above the room and never look fear in the eye again? Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fear had found her. It grounded her, stomped on her corpse, and opened its mouth to spit in her face.
Like she had jumped in front of Leah that morning, protecting her from the violent hand of a man who had long lost control of his impulses, Sloan now shoved fear out of the way and wrapped her body protectively around Leah’s.
“It’s all right,” she cooed, her soft hands stroking every patch of Leah’s skin they could find. “I’m here, precious. You’re not alone. I love you.”
It took a few minutes for Leah to calm down, but when she did, she was no longer afraid – even with her fears at eye level.
After all, she wasn’t alone, and she was loved.
***
Sloan dragged herself out of bed late the next morning. Somehow, she had missed the fact that Leah was already up and about. When the hell did she get up? Sloan had slept so soundly that an earthquake couldn’t have roused her before her body was ready.
She followed the scent of breakfast to the kitchen on the other side of the suite. She was used to staying in full-suites that offered kitchens, but she never used them. Why would she, when it was easier and more convenient to order takeout?
But someone was cooking, and since there was only one other person sharing the suite with her, it must have been the resident baker.
Leah wasn’t baking, however. She was cooking pancakes, a neat stack of them already on a plain white plate. A brand-new bottle of maple syrup accompanied a small basket of fresh strawberries and a small canister of whipped cream. Sloan hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment.
“Morning,” Leah said, chipper enough to give Sloan a headache. How could she give me a headache, though? Especially when she was dressed in that baggy T-shirt that had her curly hair up in a messy bun that must have weighed a ton on top of her scalp? “Did you sleep well?”
Sloan hopped up on a stool at the island counter and rubbed the back of her cramped neck. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who collapsed in exhaustion before I had the chance to suggest we take a shower.”
Leah was still all sunny day smiles as she slid the last of the pancakes onto the plate. She turned on the sink and rinsed out the frying pan before turning to her girlfriend. “I feel great. Last night was…” She blushed, grabbing the plate of pancakes and placing them in front of Sloan. Only then did Sloan realize that there
were two more plates stacked beneath that one. She helped Leah separate them so they could eat breakfast. “Last night was intense, but refreshing, you know?”
“Why did you go through all this trouble?” Sloan salivated at the sight of fresh strawberries on a small stack of pancakes. Oh my God, it’s been so long since I indulged in a carb fest like this. “I would’ve taken us out to brunch.”
“Because I woke up two hours ago with a great need to be productive. What can I say? I wanted to cook for you.”
“Again?”
Leah poured maple syrup on Sloan’s pancakes. “I don’t get tired of cooking. I’m a much better baker than chef, but there are merits to cooking a nice meal, too. I prefer baking.”
“Because baking cheers people up.” Sloan grinned. “You’re such a people pleaser.”
“As long as you’re the one pleased right now…” Leah shook the canister of whipped cream and drew a heart on top of Sloan’s breakfast. “Ma’am.”
“Oh my God, you can’t go calling me ma’am and think I’m not gonna smack your butt.” Especially when it’s hanging out of your shirt. Nice.
“So why aren’t you?”
“Because I’m still waking up.” Sloan stabbed her pancakes with a fork. “I need energy.”
“Lots of energy in pancakes.” Leah put together her own plate before joining her girlfriend. “I should make them more often, but I eat so much regular cake every day that… well, gets a bit old.”
“Yet you somehow knew I love pancakes.” And waffles. Sloan loved every kind of terrible American breakfast that threatened to make her fat.
“Lucky guess. Most people love pancakes.” Leah swallowed. “I seriously worry about the ones who don’t.”
Sloan took her time eating while Leah wolfed down her breakfast. “You sure you’re doing okay? You dropped pretty hard last night.”