Page 76 of Surrender
This is not what I expected from him. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what I expected. A terrified part of my mind thought he found out about Sophia, but all he wants are my lips? He wants to kiss me?
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask.
He exhales like it hurts. “You hold this enormous part of yourself away from me and it drives me mad.”
I huff out an incredulous laugh. “If that’s what you want, then maybe you should be a man and ask for it instead of picking a damn fight!”
His eyes fly wide. “I can’t ask for it because those aren’t our rules! You decide everything. I just…submit.”
The word coming out of his mouth looks painful for him to say. Honestly, I don’t like hearing him say it. I know that we’re in some version of a dominant and submissive situation, but it doesn’t feel like that to me. It feels like a luxury. Like an arrangement we were both enjoying. But if he’s not enjoying it because he can’t kiss me, it’s not okay. Part of my job is to make sure he’s okay. I’m also nowhere near ready for our arrangement to be over. The thought of Gareth pulling away because of this hard-line has anxiety climbing in my chest.
“Well, you can kiss me,” I utter, my voice soft in the quiet room.
“Is that an order?” Gareth asks, his shoulders tense and full of brooding. Full of…Gareth.
“No,” I reply quickly. That’s not how this should happen. I can’t command him to kiss me. If it’s important enough for him to pick a fight with me about, it needs to be on his terms. “In fact, I don’t want you to do it now. I want you to do it whenyouwant to do it. When it feels right for you.”
“That’s not part of our deal,” he states, clearly confused.
“I know. If you don’t like the idea, tell me and we can forget the whole thing.”
“I like it.” His voice is soft, his eyes downcast, like he’s ashamed to be saying these words.
I nod slowly. “Then a kiss is yours. Whenever you want it, I’ll accept it.”
He nods and stares down at the empty side of the bed.
“Do you really think I’m sadistic?”
“No,” he croaks painfully and slides off the edge of the bed. “I just said that to hurt you. I think you’re incredible.”
I cross my arms over my chest, still upset over the tone he took with me. Maybe I’m not giving him enough attention after we do what we do. Aftercare is an important factor in unconventional relationships.
“I don’t want anything to change between us, Treacle,” he says, staring back at me like I’m a wild animal that’s going to bolt.
“Are you sure?” I ask, needing the confirmation again.
He nods, his eyes full of sadness and shame and a whole mess of emotions I’m too exhausted to dissect. “I’m sorry I said all of that. I didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”
I stare back at him. I do know because I know Gareth, sexually and emotionally. I might not know some basic things about his life, but I know who he is. I know he’s not Cal. He’s not manipulating me or trying to control me. He just has feelings.
My voice is soft when I whisper, “I need you to hold me.”
“Anything,” he answers on a breath. In two enormous strides, he pulls me into his arms, his lips raining kisses in my hair. “I’m sorry, Treacle. I’m so sorry.”
I nod against his chest. “I believe you,” I soothe.
I soothe him because we do know each other despite what he says. We know each other better than I’m prepared to admit.
I wake in the middle of the night and find myself completely wrapped around Sloan’s naked body. I thought she was going to go home after our fight, but she didn’t. And even though she offered me something I didn’t realise I was longing for, there was still a sense of uneasiness between us as we went to sleep. Perhaps makeup sex would have helped with the unsettled feeling. Instead, she climbed into bed, turned away from me, and fell asleep without another word.
Now she’s woken me up because she’s moving beneath the blankets. At first, I think she’s awake and interested in that makeup sex after all. But as I unfold myself from her body and sit up to look down at her, it’s clear she’s completely asleep.
Her hips mindlessly swirl in slow, tiny motions. A soft moan escapes her lips. I swear I’ve died and gone to Heaven because it dawns on me that she’s having a sex dream.
Her hand slips under the covers. When she begins touching herself, I think I might fucking lose my bloody mind. She better be thinking about me and not that wanker ex of hers. Our fight tonight probably brought back some old memories, but I hate the idea that she could be thinking of him again. How many years did he not see how incredible she is? How many times did he overlook how much she holds back?
Rather than lie here and let her subconscious decide who’s bringing her pleasure, I take action into my own hands.
