Page 63 of Need

“Go on,” he said. “I can’t very well take my shower fully dressed, now can I?” He gave me a little smile.

Okay. I can do this. With shaky hands, I unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling the entire way. I kept glancing up at him to see if he was getting upset with me since I wasn’t able to get him undressed as quickly as he’d been able to undress me, but there was no sign of anger or impatience in his face. He just stood there, waiting.

Finally, his shirt was unbuttoned, and he helped me push it off his arms so it fell to the floor. He’d taken my clothes and placed them in a hamper beside the bench, so I did the same with his shirt.

When I reached for the button on his pants, my hands were shaking. This was so much harder than what I’d thought it would be. I’d never undressed a man before. I could see the fabric straining against what lay beneath. He was aroused, and although I knew I wanted this, it didn’t calm my fears.

He cupped my face, bringing my gaze back to his. Instead of speaking, however, he leaned down and kissed me. It was soft and gentle, but it made me feel tingly and warm just the same. “Slow, deep breaths,” he reminded me when he ended the kiss.

Right. Slow, deep breaths. I’d seen naked men before. I could do this.

I released the button on the dark blue suit pants he wore, and with a deep breath I lowered the zipper and let the pants fall from his hips.

I stood staring with my hands hanging in midair. He was still wearing his boxers, but unlike the other times I’d seen him in this state, I knew that in moments the thin fabric hiding him from my view would no longer be there. He wasn’t going to shower with his boxers on.

It moved under my scrutiny. Had that ever happened before? My mind couldn’t help but think back to all the men who had used me over the last year, and when it did, I felt the panic rise within my chest. Breathing became more difficult. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. Pinching my eyes closed, I tried to make the images stop.

I felt hands on my arms, my face. Who...

“Brianna,” a voice said through what sounded like a tunnel. “Brianna,” it said again, louder this time, closer. “Open your eyes. Look... at... me.”

I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew what I’d find.

But the voice was persistent. Repeatedly, it called my name.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, bracing for whatever horror I would find waiting for me this time. Instead, I was greeted with Stephan’s eyes, full of concern and something else I wasn’t sure what to name.

Once I realized it was him—and what I’d done—I dropped my head in shame. How could I spoil this? I’d asked him if we could start again, and before he’d even really touched me I panicked.

I felt arms come around me, pulling against his bare chest, and all I wanted to do was get as close to him as I could. Why was this so hard?

“Tell me what happened,” he asked after I’d calmed down.

“I saw... it move.”

He chuckled. “My penis, you mean?” I nodded, and he laughed again. “Well, he does tend to do that when a beautiful woman is staring at him.”

I peeked up from my spot against his chest to find him staring down at me. “He... moves?”

Leaning down, his lips grazed mine. “Yes. He has a very hard time staying still when you’re nearby, Brianna.”

I didn’t know how I felt about that. There was fear, sure, but I loved when he called me beautiful, and he reacted like that because he found me beautiful, right? Everything I felt when it came to him was so confusing.

“What did you think when you saw him move? You seemed to go somewhere in your head. Did you have another flashback?”

I didn’t know if it was a flashback. It was different from what had happened before. “I couldn’t remember if I’d seen that happen before. Then, I started to remember times when... the other men would... but I don’t remember,” I cried in frustration.

His arms tightened around me. “Shh. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you now.”

I held tight to him, my fingers digging into the skin on his back. I couldn’t get close enough.

I have no idea how long we stood there, but eventually, he held me slightly away from him and said, “I’m going to give you a choice. We can get dressed and go to bed, or we can continue with what I planned for tonight.”

There really was no choice. For almost a week, I’d wanted him to touch me again. “I want to continue, Sir.”

He smiled, and kissed me. “Okay.” Then he took my hands, and placed my fingers on the elastic waistband of his boxers. “Finish undressing me so we can have our shower.”

Stephan

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