We'd thought love would be enough.
It wasn't.
Well, not on its own. We had to work. Hard.
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I settled into bed, letting my thoughts drift back three years to the night I'd come home and found he'd chosen to stay.
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He followed me without hesitation, as he always had. I led him not to the playroom, but to my bedroom where stood waiting as I circled. His eyes following my every movement rather than dropping to the floor. I could see his heartbeat along the sides of his neck. It raced. Like mine. His breath was shallow and fast. Anticipating. Like mine. I stood in front of him, stripping slowly. The way I had weeks before in a strange hotel room.
I stepped close, letting my fingers trail along his skin as I bared it, removing his clothing as slowly as I had my own. The way I had weeks before, in that same hotel room.
His fingers twitched at his side as he struggled not to reach for my skin as I moved away. I climbed into bed, my back against the padded headboard, legs stretched out along the sheets. He didn't turn his head watch, but rather stood where I'd left him.
"Come here Beautiful."
He was at my side in an instant, and my fingers traced along his hip bones as I guided his body onto the bed, bringing him to kneel, straddling my lap.
"Hands on the headboard."
He complied instantly.
I reached for the lube on the nightstand, covering myself with long slow strokes as he watched my hand move between us. The fingertips of my other hand tenderly brushed his hip bone once more, pressing into his skin, urging him to rise onto his knees. It had been more than a week. I knew it would sting. I knew it would be tight. I knew he'd love it.
I dug my fingers into his hips as I drew his body down, controlling his speed and movement completely. His whimpers and cries washed over me as his head dropped down, arms tensing at my side, hands locked into place at either side of my head. I settled him against my skin, my body buried deep inside his, and brought my knees up against his back. I waited for his panting to slow and his eyes to find mine. They were so blue in the warm, dim light. Blue and silver. They were so much more. They were the clearest of summer skies and the edge of the ocean on a cool day. They were the sunlight glinting along the tops of waves and the ice trapped deep inside glaciers. I fell into them and reveled in the warmth and strength that wrapped itself around me.
"Don't look away."
His breath was a whisper. "Yes Sir."
I wrapped my hand around his length as it leaked between us, my thumb slipping slowly across his slit. Again. And again. It moved no more than an inch across the silken skin, each time drawing a whimper or shudder. Each time causing his body to tense and twitch against me, around me. I shifted my hips, barely even a movement. The muscles on either side of his throat strained as he fought to hold my gaze instead of allowing his head to fall back in pleasure. His shoulders hunched toward me though his hands remained where I'd ordered them to be. My fingers on his hip dug into his skin, telling his body to rise up. An inch. I only allowed an inch before my fingers told his body to pause. I shifted my hips, pressing up into him hard and fast. I watched him fall apart in front of me. So close to me. He lost the battle to hold my gaze and his head fell toward the bend of my shoulder as he cried out. For the briefest of moments his hands dropped from the cushioned frame before he forced them back. I lowered our hips to the bed together.
"Do you like when I restrain you Beautiful?" My voice was barely recognizable; harsh and quiet.
"Yes Sir. God yes."
I trembled at his words.
"Do you like where your hands are now?"
His hesitation was brief. "No Sir."
"Why?"
I began sliding my thumb through the moisture that leaked from him once more. An inch. Just an inch and he was coming undone.
"Need them on... want to touch you. Grey. Sir."
I lifted his hips with the gentle touch of my fingertips once more. Slightly higher than the last time. I thrust up into him, mesmerized by the way the tendons strained along the tops of his shoulders as he shuddered in pleasure. I pulled back and thrust again. His body knew not to follow mine unless my fingertips directed it to. I thrust quickly. Again and again. Moving only a few inches, most of my length remaining deep inside of him. Quiet moans and whimpers flowed from him without pause as his lips wandered the skin of my throat and shoulder.
I lowered our hips to the bed and held us motionless aside from my thumb, which still slid tenderly along the same path it had wandered since I'd wrapped my hand around him.
"Touch me."
His sigh slid along my skin like water, warm and soft and weightless before his hands left the headboard to slip around my ribs. He curled into me, his body surrounding me. His soul pressing tightly against mine.
I whispered to him as I had months ago on a stage in a crowded room. As I had so many times before as we'd prepared for that day. I whispered, feeling the warmth of my breath pool against his shoulder, drawing goosebumps from his skin and causing him to tremble against me. Around me. I clung to him, barely managing to hold on so that we could fall into the abyss together.
We stayed that way long after we'd returned to the world, and I shifted us lower into the bed and curled up against his back only after he'd fallen asleep against my chest.
We quickly learned that I was terrible at romantic relationships. I hadn't attempted one in many years, and the few I'd had in the distant past hadn't lasted very long. Combining both a power dynamic and a romantic relationship in a way that worked for us was complicated to say the least. We decided that the playroom would always be used only when employing our dom/sub relationship. Our meals would stay largely the same as we both enjoyed the slightly more relaxed version of our professional relationship that we already utilized in those moments. The rest of our time together, we had to figure out as we went. We used white often in those early days, and eventually managed to find a balance that worked for us.
We decided that while he didn't really want to move back to his own house across town, we weren't ready to combine our lives completely at the beginning of our new adventure, and it made sense for him to keep using the guest suite as his personal space.
A few months in, we found ourselves comfortable with both our living arrangement and the way in which we divided our time between our power dynamic and romantic relationships. Learning how to relate to one another within a more traditional relationship structure, however, wasn't nearly as easy and when he yelled at me for the thousandth time for leaving the lid off the toothpaste, I was ready to give up.
Six months later, as I stood there yelling in return yet again that it couldn't possibly be a big enough deal to get upset about, out of desperation he spoke the word yellow. He told me that it felt the same as a yellow boundary when I didn't seem to care about things that mattered to him even if they weren't a big deal to me. I finally understood. We began using safe words in a multitude of scenarios, and finally found ourselves building a solid foundation together.
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He slipped quietly through the bedroom door, and I couldn't help but grin at the rush of desire that ran through me as I watched him strip his pajamas off before making his way to our bed.
"Your parents settled?"
He nodded with a smile as he removed his pants.
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To say I'd come as a shock to his family was an understatement. But they were kind people. Accepting, and supportive. He'd been right when he'd told me that his parents had never quite grown out of their hippy stage, and it didn't take long before they welcomed me with open arms.
His brother came to the club with us a few times. After his third visit, he'd told us that while it wasn't the lifestyle for him, he could understand the appeal. His response had been quite different the first time. He'd followed us, wide eyed and silent as I'd shown him around, introducing him to a few of the staff. When we'd settled into a booth in a relatively quiet corner of the bar section, he'd taken a long moment to scrutinize Alex before asking him how in the world he could allow himself to be controlled to such an extent. Alex flinched beside me. It was subtle, and I don't think his brother even noticed. I did, and I knew it must have broken Alex's heart to have one he loved so dearly judge him so harshly before attempting to understand. He sat there silent and unmoving, back straight and chin slightly tucked. The way he always sat at my side at the club.
