Page 55 of A Lesson In Beginning

Worry wracked my body, my brain struggling through a passion-induced stupor to find meaning in his actions.

“I wanted to give you a simple kiss and then go into our scene. The truth is, as difficult as it has been to not kiss you all these weeks, once I got a taste of your lips, it was far more difficult to stop than I had anticipated.”

“So, what now?” His forehead touched mine, and the urge to just tilt my chin and find his lips again was nearly impossible to ignore.

“Now we both take a breath and get back to the plan. You remember your safewords?” He pulled away slightly, but his hands stayed on me as though he could not keep himself from touching me.

“Yes, of course.”

“What are they?”

“Red, yellow, and green. Like a traffic light.”

“Good girl.” Immediately, my face flushed under his praise.

“What is that face for?” He chuckled lightly, grinning in an entirely knowing fashion.

“What face?” Of course, he saw right through my facade. His teasingly stern gaze only fanned the blaze of my blush further down my cheeks and neck.

“When you blush like that, I want to peel off every layer of your clothing to see just how far I can make it spread.”

“Oh, Lord.”

“And then I want to follow it with my fingertips.” I let out a shuddering breath. His fingertips grazed over my collarbone, just to the neckline of my dress, and then down towards the swell of my cleavage. “And then my lips.”

The pathetic whimper that escaped my lips seemed to only urge him on.

“Do you remember the rules we set out for tonight’s scene, Adah?” His voice changed, turning towards that slightly more domineering tone that held me powerless to ignore it.

“Obey your directions. If I falter, I am to tell you why, to call out a safeword, or just use my words to express my concerns or worries.” My throat felt dry as the desert. Without a word from me, he seemed to pick up on this fact, as his hand found mine, tugging me away from the now locked door and leaving me in the center of the room while he made his way to the cabinet. Inside was his bag and some water bottles.

“Here. Drink.” He rejoined me, offering me a bottle to sip from, and I was eternally grateful to have something to wet my lips. “Do you have any further questions or concerns?”

“What if I mess up?” The meekness of my voice was undeniable. I was unused to showing such vulnerability, but this was a vulnerable space. Ruth had urged me to lean into it, to accept that vulnerability with openness and honesty. I wanted this to work, so I set aside all of my misgivings and trepidations.

“The only way you can mess up is by not speaking up. That is the only real ask I have of you. Be honest. Communicate. Do you think you can do that?” Brushing a strand of my hair back behind my ear, he gave me a moment to consider his words. The tendril was being stubborn, having fallen from the braid I had fixed earlier this evening.

“Yes. I promise you I can.”

“Then let’s begin.” He took the bottle of water from my hands, taking it back to the cabinet and small countertop that sat in the far corner of the room. Unzipping his bag, he pulled something from within, pocketing it before I could see what it was.

The moment’s reprieve gave me time to glance around the room once more. In the center of the back wall sat a large four-poster bed. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, and the focal piece of the room. I stood at the foot of it, the stark reality of what we were about to do settling over me like a lead weight. And yet, I was not afraid. I was excited. I wanted this. I yearned for an understanding that had been kept secret from me for far too much of my adult, and worse yet, married life.

The sounds of his footfalls on the floor drew my attention back to the present. He walked towards me, pocketing his phone only a moment before the sounds of instrumental, bass heavy music filled the room.

“Let go. Relax. Let your mind stop worrying about everything else. When you are in this room with me, be with me and nowhere else.” His hands found my waist, his body so close to mine I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I longed to lean in, to feel the strength of his body against mine again. But I held back and listened to his words.

“I want you to feel comfortable with me. Slip your shoes off, and climb onto the bed for me.” I obeyed without thought, pushing away the nagging reminder of the obedience I was taught as a child. Instead, I leaned on trust. I trusted this man.

“Lay back for me.” Situated on one side of the bed, I settled my head on the pillow. I had thought he would join me, coming to lie beside me, but he did not. He walked around the corner post, standing beside me.

“Close your eyes.” I gauged him with a look and then let my eyelids close. “Feel the softness of the fabric beneath you. Center yourself. Calm your breathing. And just listen.”

Everything slowed as his words flowed through me like water. The feel of his fingertips brushed my cheek.

“I want to follow the lines of your blush, to uncover you slowly and find every spot on your body that makes you tremble with need.” Fingertips grazed lightly down my jaw to my neck. Following the pounding of my pulse beneath my skin, his touch lit my arousal into a glowing ember deep within me.

“I want to show you what pleasure feels like.” His fingertips brushed over my collarbone, just as they had moments ago, but this felt wildly more intimate. My mind spun as the sensations whirled just beneath the surface.

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