“Well, now I just want to eat you alive.”
He turned me back around and kissed me. The taste of our tongues was a mix of sex and sweat. I fell into him, a groan rising in the back of my throat. I wanted him again, and again.
He moved his mouth to my nose, my chin, and spoke into my cheek. “I need to wash up. Can you meet me downstairs in the bar?”
I carried a toothbrush in my bag because I knew, at the very least, his dick would be in my mouth, and I didn’t want to hit the high notes at DownDawg Studio with blowjob breath. I washed my face, readjusted my dress, and slipped on my panties. They made my pu**y feel gagged, but if any part of me needed to shut up for a minute, it was the sopping cup of sensation between my legs.
He was waiting at a small table near the window, a bottle of Perrier and two glasses ready. He saw me come in, and I noted the appreciation in his gaze.
“How long do I have?” he asked. He scooped a couple of beige pistachios from a porcelain bowl. A metal bowl sat next to it, a couple of empty shells nesting inside.
“About ninety minutes. No time for another round.” I sat. Our chairs faced the windows and were so close our knees touched.
“That’s fine. I just want to talk to you.”
“You smell different,” I said.
He smiled. “The last cologne… Jessica got it for me for Christmas seven years ago. I had something new made up north. Do you like it?”
“It’s the other side of you.”
He removed the meat from a nut and placed it to my lips. I glanced around. The bar was empty except for Larry, who was wiping glasses to an optic shine. I took the nut into my mouth like an offering.
“Which side is that?” He looked at me with those tourmaline eyes, his copper hair glinting at the edges from the afternoon sun.
I didn’t know if I was allowed to fall for him, since he’d shed Jessica like an old skin. I didn’t know if I was allowed to believe she was gone, or if that much had changed between us. “The side that makes me beg.”
“You like that side of me?” He cracked another pistachio, tossing the shell into the metal bowl with a plink.
“You can’t tell?”
“I want to make sure you’re not tolerating it for other reasons.” He placed the nut to my lips again.
I took it, letting the wet part of my lips graze his thumb. “If I were, I’d just lie about it.”
“What do your instincts say? Am I a liar?”
“You’re as real as anyone I ever met.”
He turned his attention to the pistachios, popping another one open and dropping the shell with a plink. He ate that one, then another. Plink, plink. “I had business in San Francisco, but also, there’s a woman up there.”
The cold metal feeling that went up my spine must have made a sound loud enough for him to hear.
He glanced up at me and spoke in the voice he used when he was telling me to put my hands behind my back. “Wait. Let me finish.”
That calmed me enough to remove the ice from my veins. “Go on,” I said.
He fed me another nutmeat, plinking the shell with his other hand. “Her name is Sharon. We’ve been f**king on and off for a couple of years. We’re very honest with each other, and she likes some of the same things in bed that you and I have done, but she’s more experienced with it. When I got there, I saw her, and I told her about Jessica and you. I ended it with her, of course. Judging from your face you needed to hear that?”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to be possessive.”
He smiled. “You’re fine.” Plink. He put his face close to mine and brought his hand under my chin, a thumb on one cheek, and pressed lightly opening my mouth.
My eyes went half-mast and a burst of pleasure blossomed between my legs.
With the other hand, he fed me the nut. “I want you, Monica. I want you on a regular basis. Constantly, actually. I don’t think about much else.” He let go of my cheeks and brushed his thumb against my bottom lip before taking his hand away and letting me chew. “I’m on the brink of being completely infatuated with you. I need to know if you feel the same.”
I swallowed. Did I want him? Jesus f**king Christ, I’d never wanted anything so badly. I took a sip of water. “While you were away, and the last words I heard were Jessica’s, I felt emotionally heightened. Sometimes, I just shook with rage. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t do anything, or didn’t do much, or that you had to kiss her to get over her. The fact was, I had a hard time functioning. That’s why I don’t want a relationship. And the trouble is, you can’t promise me I won’t feel like that again.”
“No, I can’t.” Plink, plink.
“But how am I supposed to walk away?”
“You can’t. You’re mine. The minute I told you to spread your legs and you did it, you were mine. When I told you to beg for it and you did, you were mine. When you put your hands behind your back without being told, I owned you. You never had to say a word. You’re a natural submissive.”
Plink. When he turned away from the bowl to look at me, he had a nutmeat in his fingers, ready for my lips. His face, which had been so close to mine, slid half a step away. “Why the look?” he asked.
“What did you say?”
He smirked and got his face close again. “You are a natural submissive, Monica. You enjoy being obedient. You cede control with both hands. It’s exactly right.”
I was shaking. I wanted him, and five minutes ago, he was mine. He’d given up on his wife and wanted me, and the ache of holding back my feelings for him was quelled, if only for a moment. Until he called me a submissive.
I took my own f**king nut and cracked the meat out. “What were you thinking about us? You gonna put me on a leash?”
“You just turned into stone.”
I chewed, not commenting. I wanted an answer. He stalled, pouring himself half a glass of Perrier, and I was immediately reminded of the glass I’d spilled on the floor.
“Women I take to bed, mostly they defy me, or act cute, or overdo obedience but don’t mean it. Many pretend to like getting tied to the bedpost. One was so pliable it was disconcerting.”
“And this Sharon person?”
“She’s a submissive. That’s what she does. So she nailed it, but it’s not that kind of relationship. I could talk to her about what I liked, and we could try things together, but it’s not like you. I want you. I can’t get enough of you. You’re strong. I want to see how you look with your wrists tied to your knees. I want to spank you red in the ass. Because you can take it.” He paused, looking at me. “And I think I scared you. It’s not what you think. I don’t want anything from you that you already haven’t offered.”