Page 30 of Guarded

I listen outside the door one more time before tucking my gun back into my pants and moving to the bed. She looks up at me, her green eyes rimmed with tears. Looking down at her, I realize how fragile she looks. Innocent even.

I reach my hand out and run my hand through the strands of her hair. The soft purr she makes knocks on that door of desire within me.

Running my hand through her hair wasn’t something I should do, but she’s scared right now. She scoots in closer to me and lays her head against my knee. Something too natural for me not to get erect over.

Pull it the fuck together.

I threaten my cock who is very unaware that this is neither the time nor place.

From the moment I started working through my fucking mommy issues, I realized how much of me desired to be in control. Not just control but this unsainted need to dominate and care for a woman in all the ways I was never cared for. I run my hand through Ariella’s hair and tuck the flyaways behind her ear. I bit down on my bottom lip when I see the small beauty marks hiding behind her ear. I want to kiss them. Taste the very softness of her skin on my lips.

When it came to love, I was a lost cause. I could never offer a woman my heart, but I took pride in bringing them pleasure. And right now, there is a carnal need to pleasure her in the most ungodly ways.

My sexual needs aren’t fully met if I don’t have complete dominance. So many women were afraid to venture out as submissives because men failed to confuse dominance with control, but it was more than that.

When I began my journey as a Pleasure Dom, I learned dominance was so much more than ownership. You had to have compassion and respect. A good Dom understood his submissive’s limitations and taught her how to free herself through vulnerability and trust.

Never has the desire to care for someone been as strong as it is right now in this moment. With the one person who did not even have a clue what this type of lifestyle looked like.

There was a big difference between Ariella and the women I met at sex clubs. She was also a nurturer. I loved being dominant, but there was something gut-wrenching about her attempts to care for me.

The meals she prepares for me, the notes she leaves with the smiley faces and hearts, the fucking obnoxious way she wouldsay “Be safe” every night before I left to the club. The more she did these things for me, the more I felt I needed to protect her at all costs.

It’s perfection the way we are positioned right now. Ariella is seated on her knees with her hands in her lap as I tower above her. The beast inside me begs to be unleashed. He’s starving and desperate to devour every inch of her until she’s sobbing from the very pleasure rippling through her.

I continue to glide my fingers through her long blonde strands. I don’t have to see her face to know she’s slipping away. There’s a thin veil between who she pretends to be and the dark parts of her that she hides from the world. Dark parts where her trauma lurks and her demons beg to be caressed.

I remove my hand from her head, and she looks up at me. Silent tears fall from her eyes. I glide my knuckle up her face, catching it. The aching need to feel her lips on every part of me arises again. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before. My knuckles fall to graze the outline of her jaw.

“You okay, Princess?” I ask, unable to stop touching her. She closes her eyes, and tears stream loose.

“Look at me,” I tell her, tilting her face up to me. Her green eyes darken. The bright embers now a haunted forest.

“I’m gonna die.” She mumbles.

“God, I’m gonna die, and I’ve never done anything important with my life,” she cries louder.

“I’m gonna die a fucking virgin!”

My hand freezes at her confession. A virgin? Ariella Reyes?

I want to think she’s lying, but she has nothing to gain from lying. Ariella isn’t like the women I fuck for fun who pretend to be virgins. I have no doubt in my mind thatshe isa virgin.

An unmarked and unclaimed doll that I wanted to play with. Before I lose control, I shoot up from the bed and walk to the window.

She has never been touched the way I was fighting myself not to touch her. I press my hand against the window and tap my index finger against it. I look to see ambulances outside and police surrounding the building.

I let out a small sigh and tell the darkening aroused parts of me for the hundredth fucking time that now is not the time. There’s a fucking threat outside of this room. It wasn’t the time to start fantasizing over virgins, much less my fucking client. Ariella gets up and paces across the hotel room, repeating her same dilemma on repeat.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die a virgin.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Not helping.

After the third time, she repeats that she’s going to die a virgin, and I snap.

“You’re not going to die, Ari! Sit down!”

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