Part 7 (2/2)
”Yes.”
”I think it's only fair if you give me a piece of yourself in return. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?”
”Yes, yes.”
”A piece of information, a piece of your past. That's a fair exchange rate, don't you think?”
”Definitely! I want to hide nothing from you.”
”Good. That'll do for now,” I said. ”Now hush and hold still while I make myself come.”
I didn't make it easy for him to hold back. I ran my hands down his chest and toyed with his nipples, feeling his c.o.c.k twitch hungrily inside me when I did. I half wondered what I'd do if he failed to keep from coming until told. The other half wondered what wicked things he would do to me to make me pay for this. Holding back for that long against the steady onslaught of my p.u.s.s.y couldn't have been easy, either. I was very close myself, soaring along on a high, tense peak before I finally broke through.
I screamed when I did, my hands clenching his shoulders, knocking him backward onto the bed, thrusting my pelvis against him again and again, suddenly close to a second o.r.g.a.s.m and hungrily seeking it with desperate cries and spasms. The second explosion followed the first, hot and bright, making me see colors behind my eyelids before my tension subsided. I went limp atop him, the dual sound of both our harsh breathing making a fading rhythm.
Five.
Mother Said Get Things Done I was a little surprised James hadn't done any of the things I thought he would. He didn't try to dom me into listening, he hadn't hidden anything, and he hadn't guarded himself in the slightest.
It was as if he knew what it was going to take to get me back. I was amazed at the thought that he knew me that well and that he could go against his own fears and instincts to convince me of it. Amazed and appreciative. Maybe this was going to work.
”Karina,” he whispered.
”Yes, James.”
”My arm is somewhat wrenched under me.”
”Oh. Sorry.” I lifted my head, but it took me a moment to reconnect feeling to all my limbs and control them. I eased myself off, then helped him roll to his side. I pushed the blindfold off his head before untwisting the cloth that had been binding his wrists together, and he brought his arm forward with a groan.
”Are you all right?” I worried I'd actually hurt him.
”Fine.” He wiggled his fingers. ”I'll be fine.” He turned over to face me. ”Well?”
”Well, what?”
His eyes were serious, even as his face and body were relaxed and languid post-o.r.g.a.s.m. ”Did I convince you to give me another chance?”
”You at least earned the ability to tell me even more of what I don't know.”
He took my hand in his, like he had so many times before. This time he kissed my fingertips, his eyes closing as he did. ”I have a lot to tell you. More than any single interrogation might reveal.”
I squeezed his hand. ”Speaking of interrogation, this was nice, and I understand why you did it. But I shouldn't have to interrogate you for the answers.”
He sucked in a breath. ”No. Of course you shouldn't. There's so much I need to tell you if you're really going to get to know me.” He reached up and traced the curve of my cheek with his fingertip. ”Yet I feel like you know me better than anyone.”
”I do know you,” I said. ”I just don't know the facts about you.”
His gaze s.h.i.+ed away from mine. ”Many of the facts are sordid.”
”Says the man who put a six-inch d.i.l.d.o into me and walked me around the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”
”I mean much more sordid than that.” Now his face had completely clouded over.
”I want to know, James. I need to know. I have a right to, if we're going to be together.”
He nodded, though his eyes were closed. ”I know. I agree. That still doesn't make it easy for me to open up.”
I raised an eyebrow. ”Except during s.e.x.”
”As you well know. Were you serious about what you said before? I would sincerely give you a piece of my past for every time you give me...” He kissed my fingertips again. ”Anything. s.e.x. Your body. Your submission.”
Even though we'd just had s.e.x, I felt a thrill go through my loins. ”I wasn't suggesting it lightly.”
”I want to be sure. Sometimes we say things in the heat of pa.s.sion that seem less than wise afterward.”
”But sometimes we get inspired.” This could be the perfect solution, I realized. ”I know the time you're the most open is when we have s.e.x. That's the time your answers will be the best. Of course, if we do this, I could still revoke my forgiveness at any time.”
”Of course. Just as you can revoke your consent at any time. I understand, Karina. It's One Thousand and One Nights, only this time I'm Scheherazade, telling the stories.”
I touched his face with my fingers, feeling like a weight was slowly lifting from my back. Maybe we were going to make this work after all. The fact that he was willing to try so hard made a huge difference in how I felt. And I wanted him. The part of me that had been needing him and pining for him all summer was quelled by the knowledge we could do this.
I sat up and discovered I'd been lying on something. I held up what he had used to bind his wrists. In the dim light I could still recognize what it was. ”These look a lot like a pair of panties I used to have.”
”That's because they are.”
”You've been carrying around my underwear?” I turned to look at him.
Lying beside me on the pillow, he wore a familiar expression: serene and a bit bemused. ”You left them in the car. Did you think I'd throw them away?”
”I never really thought about it before.”
”If I left a pair of my underwear behind with you, what would you do?”
”Yeah, I see your point. I've got a handkerchief of yours I keep in the-”
His expression changed suddenly, his eyes widening and his lips parting in slight surprise. ”That's it, isn't it?”
I felt myself blush even though I wasn't keeping anything a secret. ”Um, partly anyway. My roommate-”
”I know. I met her at the spa that day. Becky. She knew the Lord's Ladies.”
”Yeah. And she got one of the handkerchiefs you threw from the stage at Madison Square Garden. It matched one I got from you.” Well, from Stefan, strictly speaking.
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