Page 49 of Sinful Submission

He lowered his massive frame to the carpet, surprisingly graceful for a man his size.

“Back straight,” I instructed. “Hands resting on your knees.”

“Demanding,” he commented but complied without resistance.

“Now close your eyes.”

“I prefer watching you.”

“Titan,” I said firmly. “Close them.”

His eyelids lowered, then he peeked up at me and I giggled.

“Titan!”

His smile was gorgeous and interestingly made his features wickedly sharp instead of soft planed.

“Breathe in through your nose,” I directed, settling myself opposite him. “Fill your belly first, then your chest. Four counts in.”

His chest expanded as he inhaled.

“Hold for seven,” I continued, watching the tension in his shoulders begin to release. “Now exhale through your mouth for eight counts. Push every bit of air out.”

Titan followed my instructions, and his exhalation was smooth and carefree.

“With each breath, feel yourself sinking deeper into the ground,” I murmured. “Let the earth support your weight completely.”

We breathed together in silence for several minutes. His face softened, his jaw unclenched.

“Thoughts will come,” I said. “Don’t fight them. Acknowledge them, then let them float away like leaves on water.”

“There are many leaves,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“There always are,” I replied. “That’s why we practice.”

After ten minutes, I whispered, “Bring your awareness back to your body. Feel the floor beneath you. The air on your skin.”

Titan’s eyes opened slowly, his gaze sharper yet somehow calmer.

“What did you feel?” I asked.

“Calm,” he answered, his voice rougher than before. “Relaxed, even.”

I smiled. “Again?”

“Yes,” he said. “But this time, let’s combine our lessons.”

Titan produced a small bottle from his pocket and handed it to me.

“More sanitizer?”

“Apply it to both our palms,” he instructed. “We’ll meditate with fire.”

I squeezed the gel onto our hands, my heart racing as he struck a match. Flames erupted across our palms simultaneously.

“Breathe,” I reminded him. “Four in, seven holds, eight out.”

We sat facing each other, fire dancing in our open hands, our breath steady and synchronized. The flames cast flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the angles of his cheekbones and the intensity of his focus.

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