Clear and Bright: Chapter Fourteen: Shattered

                                        

We pull up in front of his parents' home and my heart is in my throat. I know he's irritated by my escalating state of panic, but he's trying to be patient, he doesn't want to upset me further. I'm sure this is going to be a disaster, no matter how much he tries to convince me otherwise. I think of the invisible game and wish I was four years old, when the only mother that didn't like me was my own.

"Sweetheart, you have got to relax. I have never seen you like this. It's so unnecessary."

"Please take me home. Please, Jaimin, I'm begging you. I'll call her and apologize... "

"We're here and we're staying. You're making yourself sick for nothing. They are going to love you. I have no doubts about that."

"Please?" My voice cracks on the single word and I feel the tears coming.

"No. Don't ask me again. I've had enough of this, it stops now."

He gets out of the truck and comes around to my door, a stern expression on his face. If this is the beginning of the end, I don't want to waste whatever time I have left with him being angry at me. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. Don't make him mad... don't make him mad... don't make him mad...

He holds his hand out to me and I place mine in his.

"You're trembling. Jesus, Claire, this is ridiculous."

"I'm sorry."

"I want you to calm down. I want you to relax and clear your mind of all of this nonsense. Do that for me."

"I'm trying. Can I just say one thing to you before we go in there? In case it's the only chance I ever have... I need you to know... "

"No."

"Wait, you don't understand... I just want to..."

"I do understand. I know exactly what you want to say, and I don't want to hear it."

Ouch. No... I don't want to be four years old anymore. "I... "

"No, Claire. Not like this. You have forever to tell me that, I don't want to hear it now. Let's go."

"Okay," I say, my voice very small with hurt that's anything but. "As you see fit."

"Damn it, you know what I meant... "

"I heard you, Jaimin, loud and clear."

I climb down from the truck, and visualize the crumbled bricks of my fallen wall reassembling themselves around me. I start to walk towards the front door and hear his quiet voice.

"I did not mean that to hurt you. You know that. Don't make it something else."

I respond without turning around. "It's okay, I won't let it happen again."

Just at that moment, the front door opens and a stunning woman who can only be Jaimin's mother steps into the doorway. Her eyes go wide as soon as she sees me.

I reach her and extend my hand. "Hello, Mrs. Guillory, I'm Claire."

"Oh my God... it's you... "

Jaimin reaches us and I feel his hand on my back as he leans down to kiss her cheek. She hasn't taken her eyes off of me, he apparently didn't mention to her who I was.

"Are you going to let us in?" he asks her with an innocent smile.

She nods her head and steps aside, still not saying anything.

Jaimin takes my hand and leads me in, closing the door. He waves his hand in front of her with a laugh.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just that... you... he... I've seen your face so many times... but I never thought... "

"My mother at a loss for words? Thought I'd never see the day."

"Don't you wish, dear." She smirks at him and it makes me laugh. I've definitely seen that face before.

He winks at me and I'm shocked that it doesn't render me the usual mushy state. He notices too. His mouth turns instantly into a frown. I turn my eyes away, not wanting to see him look unhappy, no matter how hurt I am, and a painting on the wall catches me by surprise.

Mrs. Guillory is still watching me intently and follows my gaze. "Isn't it wonderful? It's my favorite piece."

"It is?"

"Yes, it was a gift from Jaimin. Don't you like it?"

"I... it's just... well, I'm very flattered...  It's mine."

"Yours?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, darling, please call me Caressa. You painted this?"

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry... Caressa."

She looks at Jaimin, her eyebrows raised in a curious expression. "The vineyard house?"

He smiles, "All hers."

"But that's been... I'm just now meeting her? And... oh... you rotten...  How could you?"

She raises her hand to slap him and he laughs, and holds up the two bottles of her favorite wine he's brought for her as he backs away. Just at that moment the door opens and Jaimin's father walks in. His reaction to me is the same.

"I'm not finished with you," she says to Jaimin before turning to me. "Claire, darling, this is Jaimin's father, Aricin. You'll have to forgive us, we're not usually the gaping sort, but seeing you is such a shock... "

I smile shyly and feel Jaimin's hand come up to stroke my hair and drop to rest on the small of my back as I take his father's extended hand. "Hello." It's as much as I get out due to the shiver running up my spine.

He greets me warmly as I hear Jaimin mumble a low "Thank God" behind me. I survived one wink without toppling and he was feeling vulnerable. Serves him right...

Aricin smiles at his son with knowing eyes. "So, why was your mother attempting to assault you when I came in?"

"She's making assumptions. I'm pretty sure she just thinks I'm an asshole."

"Oh, is that all? I thought it was something I didn't already know."

I giggle, I can't help it. Jaimin leans down and kisses me sweetly on the cheek as he reaches up and gives my hair a gentle tug. Caressa is watching us and when my eyes meet hers I feel the blush start to spread.

Her brow furrows and she addresses her son. "As long as you've dreamed of her, you'd think you'd show her a little more respect now that she's within your reach. There are different kinds of women, Jaimin, I would hope you would see that."

Oh...

"I assure you, Mother, I do. Very clearly."

Aricin smiles at me and tries to lighten the mood, "Why don't we move to the kitchen and crack open one of those bottles? I'm looking forward to showing my son how to prepare an edible meal."

My mouth drops open and Jaimin chuckles, "Give it your best shot, old man. Claire's used to perfection. I'll  be humiliated for you if I have to feed her when we leave. Unless you'd rather save yourself from shame and just let me do it now?"

"Oh, here we go... " Mrs. Guillory says with a roll of her eyes. She takes me by the hand to lead me away and slaps Jaimin's hand when he tries to hold on to me.

"Told you," he says from behind me as we all walk to the kitchen.

The night is still young... 

Mrs. Guillory and I are enjoying the battle for supremacy playing out before us in the kitchen. It's the funniest thing I've ever seen. My arrogant bastard is in rare form tonight. He's completely relaxed and very much himself with his parents. I like seeing him this way.

"Jaimin, I want to know how long you've been hiding Claire from us, and why?"

"I haven't been hiding her, Mom, things have just been a little hectic."

"Hectic? Is that what you call your time management?"

"What are you trying to say, Mother?"

"If she's been around as long as I think she has, we should have known about her and you should show some appreciation. She should be the one slapping you."

"She hasn't. I didn't know her when I purchased the paintings. It's an unbelievable coincidence, but true nonetheless. Don't make assumptions."

"Is there something I could clear up? Why exactly would I want to slap him?" I ask, a bit confused.

"It's alright, sweetheart, I told you... my mother thinks I'm an asshole. She assumes we've known each other since I purchased your paintings for the vineyard house, even though it makes no sense and she should see that. Based on that assumption, she also assumes that I've behaved treacherously during said assumed relationship. And she'd like you to slap me for it."

It takes me a minute, but I see now. "Oh. Well, we've actually only known each other a few weeks, and if I understand...  Caressa, you may be happy to know that your son is most often a very considerate and very sweet man. And as far as treacherous behavior goes... his harem has been dismissed."

Aricin bursts out laughing at the last part, and Jaimin snickers, but his mother is focused on something else.

"Considerate and sweet? He is? My son?"

"Yes, he is," I laugh, "When he's not being an ass, of course."

"I'd like to point out, sweetheart, that you adore me even when I am."

"Of course you would. As always, you should get over yourself."

Caressa gives an exasperated sigh, "Oh, Claire, we've waited for that to happen for a very long time. I'm afraid that day will never come, but you keep telling him that."

"Trust me, Mother, she has a very smart mouth, and isn't in the least bit shy about using it on me."

Just say the word... "Which you happen to adore," I add with my own cocky smirk.

He chuckles, "Most of the time."

He grabs the bottle of wine and walks over to refill our glasses, doing so from behind us. Caressa smiles at him as he pours hers and then I feel him up against by back. He leans impossibly close as he slowly fills my glass, bending to run his nose teasingly up my neck and into my hair. Just like that, I'm done. Evil bastard. And in front of his parents, no less. Really evil...

I struggle to compose myself and I see him smirk as he walks back around to where his father is. My insides and heart are at war with my head ... I was hurt by his rejection outside, even though I know that wasn't his intention. I thought I was in self-defense mode, but my body is quickly betraying me. He's trying to manipulate me, I know he is, but knowing that isn't doing anything for my resolve. He's getting away with it. I'm powerless to stop him, and he knows it. Perhaps he's not the only one.

Caressa is looking at me with an almost sad expression. She touches my hand and gives me a small smile, before turning her attention to her son.

"Jaimin, could I have a word with you privately?"

It was only a matter of time...

He's watching me, he knows what I'm thinking. I absentmindedly reach up and feel the tiny key with trembling fingers. I do love you, even if you don't want to hear it... I want forever... please...

"Is that really necessary, Mom? I think it can wait, don't you?"

"No, it can't. You don't mind, do you Claire?"

Yes... "Of course not," I say, trying to force a smile.

"I'll be right back," he says as he comes over to follow his mother out of the room, then leans down to whisper in my ear "Please stop worrying. She's crazy about you."

He kisses me tenderly on the top of my head and is gone. When I look up, Aricin is looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. So... did Jaimin acquire his passion for cooking from you?"

He gives me a look that says 'I don't buy it', but lets it go. "I suppose he did initially. He was always in the kitchen with me, even as a child. It fascinated him. He paid attention to everything. I think he was about ten years old the first time he told me I was doing something wrong. I disagreed, of course, and he was determined to prove his point. I probably don't have to tell you how stubborn my son is... "

I smile and shake my head. "So, did he?"

"Yes. He pulled out a pan and made his creation his way. Watching him... I knew it's what he would do. It was in him."

He's smiling proudly at the memory of his young, determined boy. It warms me.

"And how was it? His creation?"

He laughs, shaking his head, "Better than mine. Ten years old, and he taught me something... his understanding of taste is like nothing I've ever seen. He had it even then, it was developing, along with his cocky attitude. He's been incorrigible ever since."

"A cocky ten year old?" I laugh and roll my eyes, "No wonder it seems to come so naturally to him, he's had years of practice. Your son is something else... although, when it comes to food, he can be as cocky as he wants as long as he's feeding me. Everything he puts on a plate is heaven. He knows that, of course... "

"That he does. I've always considered myself a good chef, but Jaimin is a phenomenal one, and he absolutely knows it."

"Jouissance," Mr. Arrogant boasts shamelessly, coming back into the kitchen.

"Jaimin, you know how much I dislike that." Caressa pulls a spatula out of a nearby drawer and smacks him right on the ass with it.

Is that where he gets it?

Everyone is laughing, including him.

"Careful, Mother, just touching that spatula could burn your hand, kind of like holy water to the devil."

Aricin laughs and takes it from her just as she's about to do it again. "You know dear, he does have a point. And he might visit more often if you didn't beat him every time he comes."

"He's going to be visiting more, whether I do or I don't. We've already discussed it. I won't allow him to hide Claire from us anymore, and for her sake, maybe there's still time for me to teach him some manners before he scares her away."

They both smile at me, and I see something flicker in Jaimin's eyes. He comes behind me and wraps his arms around me.

"Don't worry, Mother... "

His right hand comes up to wrap possessively around my throat. It makes my pulse quicken. I know he can feel it. I know he likes it, despite his mother's shock and obvious displeasure at his dominant gesture. He knows she's watching. That only makes him like it more. He's making a point. She suggested I could be lost to him, however innocently. He didn't like that.

"She's not going anywhere. Ever. Are you, Claire?"

My arrogant bastard wants control.

I shake my head no.

His fingers apply gentle pressure and he whispers softly, "I asked you a question."

He wants submissive obedience.

Why am I so aroused by that? "No."

"No, what?"

"No, I'm not going anywhere."

"Almost."

"Ever."

"Good girl."

Aricin clears his throat and announces dinner is ready. Mrs. Guillory is not happy with her son. Her talk seems to have backfired on her. When we enter the dining room, she pats the chair next to her.

"Claire, why don't you sit next to me?"

Jaimin has pulled out a chair across the table. They're glaring at each other.

"Claire."

He knows it's all he has to say.

I sit where he wants me.

Caressa crosses her arms and gives him a stern look.

"Aricin, after we've finished eating, I think you should talk to your son about the proper ways of treating a lady."

Jaimin snorts and pulls my chair closer to him.

 Aricin looks at me before responding. "Our son is an adult, as is Claire. She doesn't appear to be unhappy with his treatment. Perhaps that's not for you to understand. I think you should leave them be."

"Are you still going to feel that way when he hurts her and you did nothing to stop it?"

I don't think she means emotionally. His gestures have given her the wrong impression. This is getting uncomfortable in a way I hadn't anticipated. I glance at Jaimin and he is boiling.

"HURT HER?"

"That's what I said. Your behavior is painting an ugly picture, Jaimin."

"Be careful, Mother."

"Treat her gently and with respect!"

I don't like this. I'd rather she didn't like me than have this misconception of her son.

"Caressa, I think you have the wrong impression. Jaimin would never... "

"Claire, I don't need you to defend me to my mother. I want you to be quiet."

Okay then...


"Tell him no!"

I look at her and give a slight shake of my head. She shoots him a dirty look.

Dinner is uncomfortable. She doesn't let up. He gets more and more annoyed. Aricin continues to try to reign her in, unsuccessfully. I sit in silence, waiting for this night to end. 

Jaimin glances at me often, touches me. It's almost as if he's making sure I haven't disappeared from my place beside him, my silence unnerving him. He wanted me quiet, I'm only following his orders.

His eyes aren't the only ones I feel. Caressa's growing disapproval is clear without a word. She watches his every move like a hawk. She scowls every time he touches me.

"She's not a kitten, Jaimin. Stop petting her."

"Am I bothering you, Claire? My mother seems to think I am."

"No," I answer quietly.

"Well, at least it's a word you know," she mutters under her breath.

Jaimin slams his fist on the table, and it makes me jump.

I see her staring at me from the corner of my eye. She thinks I'm weak. She's disgusted by it. I don't acknowledge her piteous glances, I no longer care what she thinks of me. My earlier fears are gone. I knew she'd find a reason, it's a new one for me, but the result is the same. I never stood a chance.

Aricin is different. I think he understands his son. He knows this is new territory for him, he knows he has to find his way. I think he sees me differently than his wife. He doesn't appear happy with her. He smiles at me often. I think he likes me.

Caressa addresses me suddenly, "Claire, I'd like to meet your parents... it would be nice to have some insight into your obedient manner with my son. Have they seen the two of you together? Do they find it as disturbing as I do?"

Jaimin stands angrily, his chair crashing hard to the floor behind him. "TOO. FAR. MOTHER."

"Of course you would say that, Jaimin, you like your puppet just the way she is. That's probably why you've kept her hidden from me, you were afraid I'd tangle her strings and make things difficult for you. If I had it my way, she'd stand on her own two feet and cut them, but I think we're a long way from that."

Doll, and now puppet? 

Jaimin's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "We're finished here. Dad, take Claire out to my truck. I'd like my own private word with my mother."

Maybe he should stay here. "It's okay, Mr. Guillory, I'll be fine by myself. Thank you for... "

"Claire."

Okay, gag order back in place.

"I assure you, son, she'll be hearing a few from me after you've gone." He reaches me and extends his arm, "Your escort, mademoiselle."

I smile at him and let him help me from my seat and lead me out.

"Oh, Claire?" Caressa calls from the dining room, "I don't know what you were taught, but it's proper to say good bye when leaving a person's home."

"Etiquette lessons from you, Mrs. Guillory?" I call back, "I don't think so."

I hear her gasp and Aricin chuckles beside me. "She had that coming."

We step outside and the air is considerably cooler than when we arrived. I open the door of the truck, remembering Jaimin never put on his jacket before we went inside. I slip it on, sure I look ridiculous, like a little girl playing in her daddy's closet, but I'm too cold to care. I shrug and Aricin smiles at me. He hops in and starts the truck, turning the heat on, and gestures for me to get in.

"I want to apologize for my wife's behavior. I don't know what got into her tonight."

"That's not necessary."

"You're unhappy, as you should be for being treated that way."

"I don't like to see Jaimin disrespected. I won't make exceptions for her just because she's his mother. I'm unhappy about that, not whatever she may think of me."

"I'm very pleased that my son has conducted himself worthy of earning your respect. I'm afraid my wife sees it as something else."

"She thinks I'm afraid of him."

"I believe she does. His behavior with you tonight was a bit intense. Is he always that way with you?"

"Jaimin is an intense person. I don't think I have to tell you that."

"No, you certainly don't, but I think it's at an extreme with you. It has been since he found those paintings of you. I don't know how he didn't scare you? You must have found that unsettling on some level when he showed you?"

"I should have, I suppose... but something just happened when I saw him... " my voice trails off, the memory of that first day flooding my head.

He's smiling at me when I come out of my daze. It makes me blush. "Intense."

"I see that. Claire, I don't share my wife's concerns, as long as you feel safe. A man is sometimes overcome, I understand that."

"He would never hurt me. She's wrong to think that. I'm not afraid of him. He just needs control... he's a man... he wants to be treated like one. He wants to feel like one... be revered, perhaps...  He's a little overbearing sometimes, but it's who he is. I don't want to change him. He's not so arrogant that he can't admit his faults. He's harder on himself than you might believe.

I know this is all new for him. I have to let him work it out. He's trying. I think it's the first thing he's ever felt vulnerable about in his life. He's not afraid to let me see that. He doesn't hide it from me. How could I not respect that? Your son is a good man. I've never felt safer. He gives me more than you could imagine, parts of himself... he doesn't hold anything back from me. If he needs control... I can give him that. It doesn't mean I'm weak."

"I don't think you're weak. There's a fire in you, I think you just choose when to let it burn. Jaimin isn't the only one of you who needs control. Perhaps the two of you have found your balance together. That's not for anyone else to judge."

"Thank you for seeing that."

"Things aren't always as black and white as they appear."

"No, they're not. Although... this evening was pretty clearly defined."

"Don't worry about her, Claire. I'm confident that Jaimin is in there setting her straight, and whatever she's left stewing about, I'll take care of. She's never seen him with anyone, I think she expected different behavior from him, or wanted it anyway. I know she pushed his buttons, and I didn't doubt how he would respond, at least to an extent. I was a little shocked at his manner with you, but you didn't appear afraid in any way. You seem to understand him very well, and it's clear that you care about him. Whatever you choose to concede to him is between the two of you. I gather from your words that it's not always so one-sided."

"It's not."

"Good."

I see Jaimin walk out of the house and towards us. It doesn't look like it went well. Aricin starts to get out of the truck and I put my hand on his arm.

"Thank you. For everything."

"You're very welcome."

"And dinner was wonderful, by the way."

"Only because I helped," Jaimin says with a snicker as he switches places with his father.

He rolls his eyes at his cocky son. "And Claire... I'm glad something happened."

It makes me smile and Jaimin looks between us curiously as Aricin says good night and turns and walks back to the house.

"What happened?" he asks, closing his door.

"You."

"My father adores you."

"I'm very fond of him, too."

"Did you have a nice chat?" he asks as he pulls out of the drive.

"Better than yours, I'm sure."

"I don't know what to say about that... "

He looks angry, but I'm not sure with whom. "Jaimin... I can't honestly say that I'm sorry for what I said to her, because I'm not, but for you... I'm sorry that I disrespected her. She's your mother and... "

"You think I'm upset with you for that?"

"I can understand if you are."

"I'm not. She was being a bitch and you called her on it. I was proud of you and your smart little mouth."

He winks at me and I definitely don't survive this one. I hear him chuckle as I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat.

"You had me scared for a minute."

"I know."


We spend the rest of the ride to his apartment in silence. When we arrive, he comes around and opens my door and helps me down from the truck, and gives me a sweet smile.

"I'm glad I left that. You look adorable."

"I was cold."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to warm you."

"You're here now."

His eyes flicker wickedly, but he doesn't say anything as he leads me inside. He looks me over and hesitates as he starts to help me off with his jacket.

"As beautiful as you are in that dress, there's something about my jacket on you... I hate to take it off."

I see that... hmmm... "Maybe you'd like to see me in the trousers too? You should take them off."

"Always thinking, aren't you?"

I bat my eyelashes at him and he shakes his head and laughs, pulling the jacket off of me with a sigh.

"Thank you for not getting mad."

"You've given me no reason to be."

"I did at dinner. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to belittle you to her. I would never do that."

"I wasn't angry, and I know you weren't. I know you didn't like what she was implying, I'm fully aware of how much you want people to respect me, however little I actually deserve that. Your opinion of me is far higher than I've earned from you. You don't owe me any apology, sweetheart, but I owe you one. I'm sorry I told you to be quiet. I told you I'd never do that again... I broke my promise. It won't happen again. You have my word."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. Don't bend too much for me."

"You're not her."

"I sure sounded like her tonight."

I know he's no longer referring to telling me to be quiet.

"That hurt me."

"I know it did, and I'm very sorry. I didn't mean that I don't want to hear it... just not out of desperation. Can you try to understand that? Letting you would have meant I was giving credit to your fears. I couldn't do that. Does that make sense?"

"It's not the first time you've stopped me."

"Think about that day, Claire. It was the same thing."

I nod my head and he pulls me into his arms. I snuggle into him and close my eyes.

"Are you tired?" he asks sweetly.

"No, just trying to let go of the day. Would it be alright if I took a hot bath?"

"Of course. I'll run it for you."

"Can we have a fire?"

"You can have anything you want."

"And wine?"

"Yes, but I think I'd like something stronger."

I remember his promise from this morning and look up at him innocently. "Have I been good enough to be indulged?"

He gently strokes my hair and chuckles, his eyes shining with mischief. "Ah, you haven't forgotten. Don't worry your pretty head, I have plans for you."

I squeal like a silly child and he laughs. "Now, stop being adorable for five minutes and let me start your bath, so I can attend to your other requests before I forget any of them."

"I'm going to buy you a book so you can start writing things down."

He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. He picks up a leather bound notebook from the bedside table and hands it to me.

"I picked that up in a book shop today the first time I left you. I was already planning to write down my notes before you asked me to. You're a demanding little brat, I didn't want to see you pout if I forgot anything."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Even your notebook is pretentious. You're really something else, but I'm very happy that you're so dedicated. I'll help you, just in case."

"Anything specific you're particularly worried I may have forgotten?" he asks with a chuckle.

"They're all important. I don't want you to forget any. Since you already have a book, I guess I'll get you a pen."

"I have many of those, you don't have to get me anything, all I want is you."

"I'm all yours."

"I know."

He smirks shamelessly at me and leaves the bedroom and a few seconds later I hear the water running in the bath. I put the notebook back on the table and get my things ready, laying them on the bed.




The bath was exactly what I needed, the stress of the day and evening washed away. The glass of wine he left me didn't hurt either. I feel completely relaxed and refreshed, anxious to cuddle up in front of the warm fire with my love. I walk into the bedroom and find that the pajamas I left on the bed are gone. All that lies there is his jacket, a pair of black lace boy shorts, a piece of paper torn from the notebook, and the book itself. The notebook is open and I can see that he's written in it. I pick it up to read his words.


                                 Notes and Promises for Claire

* "Not for less than three carats"


** Door rattling


*** Shower-start AND finish.


**** See very conscious and very happy Claire-refer to note one


***** Make my kitten purr


****** Practice makes perfect--refer to note five. Repeatedly.


Oh...


He's not even here and I'm blushing. Now where the heck are my pajamas? I look at his jacket again, confused. I pick up the note he's written and I can't believe my eyes.

   I WANT YOU TO PUT THESE ON. NOTHING ELSE. THEN COME TO ME.




Holy shit! Is this some kind of joke? I pick it up, expecting to find my pajamas underneath, but nothing. He can't be serious. He wouldn't... would he? He was definitely intrigued by the sight of his jacket on me... but this... is this a test? What am I supposed to do? Certainly I'm not supposed to... if it is a test and I fail... oh hell, who cares! Whatever the consequences... sooooooo worth it.


I slip on the boy shorts, making my own mental note to buy countless more pairs. Countless chocolate pairs. I wonder if he'd like to do that kind of shopping with me...

I'm trembling as I slip the jacket on. Get a hold of yourself... this is probably nothing more than a spectator sport for him... a visual he couldn't help but need. You're going to be put on display again. That's it. Don't get your hopes up.


I offered to model for him this morning. He wants it now. No problem. I slip the necklace over my head, he said nothing else, but I don't think he'll object to my wanting his heart close to me. I step before the mirror and look at the finished product. I guess I can see why he would find this sexy. I feel sexy. I give my hair a final tousle and give my ass a gentle pat. Sorry if I'm about to get you in trouble... test or not, I can't deny him.


I take one very deep breath and open the bedroom door, empty wineglass in hand. I can feel the warmth of the fire as I enter the hallway, but that's nothing compared to the heat coming off of him when his eyes fall on me. He's sitting in the chair near the fireplace. His shirt is half unbuttoned, pulled from his pants, his sleeves rolled up. His feet are bare and he's holding the something stronger he mentioned in his hand, looking completely relaxed. And, have mercy on my soul, sexy as hell. His eyes travel over me painstakingly slowly, setting fire to my insides.

"Now is not the time to be shy, Claire. Let go of the jacket."

I hadn't even realized I was clutching it closed, but I let go as instructed and it falls open, the satiny lining rubbing gloriously across my nipples as it does. He takes a slow sip from the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes never leaving me. They bore into me and I'm frozen where I stand, mesmerized by the desire I see in them. If this is a test, I'm going to fail. I won't stop him, not this time. Whatever happens... whatever the consequences... I'll deal with them as they come.

"Come here," he orders, low and sexy.

I walk to him on shaky legs and the burning desire in his eyes smolders stronger and fiercer the closer I get to him. He doesn't move from his relaxed position in the chair as I reach him, only holding up his drink-free hand for me to stop. I stand motionless before him, not knowing what he wants. Well... maybe that's not entirely true. He wants control. That is clear.

It seems like forever before he moves, but he puts his glass on the side table and reaches now to take the glass from my hand, filling it from a bottle I now notice in an ice bucket beside him.  Next to that is the bottle of whatever he's drinking. Sitting my glass next to his, he sits forward suddenly, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my knees between his open legs.

He trails his finger from my chin, down my neck, to the place between my breasts where the heart rests. "I said nothing else."

Crap. Leave it to me to screw this up...

"It's a nice touch... "

Thank God.

"But next time do exactly as you're told."

Yes, Sir...


"Understood?"

I nod and he raises a brow at me. Oops.

"Yes," I answer through quivering lips.

He's enjoying his control. His eyes are alive with it. I can't deny him this, no matter how much it goes against who I've always been.


Was.


There's nothing I won't give him...

"Are you thirsty?"

I am now... "Yes," I say again.

He picks up my glass, but instead of handing it to me, dips his finger in the wine and runs it over my bottom lip.

"Don't let it drip," he warns.

I lick my lip and he cocks his head.

"Open your mouth."


I open and he dips his finger again and puts it in my mouth. I just stare at him, wide-eyed.

"Don't you want it?"

I don't think he expects to hear my answer this time. I close my lips around his finger and gently suck.

His breath catches, but he quickly recovers himself and hands me my glass, sitting back in the chair and picking up his own. Our eyes blaze into each other as we both take a sip.

I don't know what I should do. I don't know what he wants. I don't know if my position is a clue. It seems that perhaps it is, but I don't want to assume. His eyes give nothing away, he just gazes at me, sipping his drink.

I start to fidget a little and he raises up from the chair, lifting my chin, making sure not to brush against my face as he leans down to grab a pillow from in front of the fireplace.

"Up," he says, placing it on the floor in front of him, before gesturing me back down. "Better?"

My response is barely a whisper, "Yes. Thank you."

He smiles at me and sits back down, picking up his glass again.

My mind is whirling from his little game. I want to know what he wants. Am I supposed to know? Am I supposed to do something?

"Patience," he says with a smirk.

Damn face. Can you be on my side just once?


I know it can't. Neither can my legs. I'm trying not to move, but they're trembling so hard it's making me teeter.

"Hold still."

Easy for you to say...


"Your mouth is even smart in your head."

Lucky guess, arrogant bastard.


"Remember what I said about endurance... of course, if you're tired, or don't think your reward will be worth it, you can get up."

Game on. Consider me a stone.

"Don't hold your breath, it won't help you. You'll only make yourself dizzy."

I expel the breath I was holding, and take a sip of my wine. The glass shaking in my hand doesn't escape him.

"Are you afraid of something?"

"No."

"Nervous?"

"No."

"Uncomfortable?"

"No."

"Lying to me about any of the three?"

"No."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

I pout and he winks at me.

Well, that sure as hell doesn't help!


"Perhaps that was unfair of me," he chuckles wickedly.

"Your rules."

"Good girl. It pleases me that you understand."

Score one for Claire.


He leans forward now, "Take one more sip before I take it from you."

I do as I'm told and he takes my glass. He sets it on the table and reaches up to run his thumb across my lip, his other hand brushing my hair from my face, before threading into my hair and grasping the back of my head.

"Do you know what I want?"

Oh God... "I wouldn't want to make assumptions."

"Very good girl."

He trails his thumb down my chin and my neck. When it reaches the base of my throat, his fingers extend out to run under the jacket, trailing featherlight on my skin, over my breast and down my stomach. He stops when he reaches lace, his fingers curving around my waist.

God help me...

"You're very responsive to me. I like that."

"That's good because I can't help it."

"You better never try. I think you did that tonight. I didn't like that."

I begin to shake my head, but his hand stills me.

"Don't, Claire. Don't ever try to turn yourself off to me. Don't forget who you belong to."

"I couldn't possibly... "

He stands, his hand moving from my waist to cup firmly under my chin, tilting my head back. "Do you trust me?"

His legs are against me, it's getting clearer to me what he wants.

"Yes."

"How much?"

I smile up at him, "Absolutely."

"Enough to close your eyes?"

I close them without answering, hoping it's what he wants. It seems to please him, his hand releasing my chin, his fingers now stroking my hair.

"Do you know how vulnerable you are to me right now?" His voice erases any doubt I may have had. I can hear how aroused he is by his dominant position.

He seems to once again read my thoughts. "Yes, I want you to answer me."

"Completely," I say quietly.

"Does it frighten you?"

I hear the sound of his belt and my breath catches as I reply, "No."

He laughs wickedly, then his hands are suddenly around my throat, his warm breath tickling my lips, "Good."

Holy hell...

His hand moves again to hold my head, I think he's going to kiss me, but I feel something cool and solid against my lips, then the sweet wine pour slowly into my mouth. I swallow and he pours once more, then kisses me sweetly, and whispers "I'm going to pick you up, I'm not entirely sure your legs would work. Keep your eyes closed."

But I thought he wanted...

I feel myself being lifted and gently laid in the nest of pillows and blankets in front of the fire. I think of the first night we spent together here, how sweet and vulnerable he was... it seems like a lifetime ago, but it's only been weeks. So much has changed... so much has grown and bloomed...

I feel his lips kiss both of my knees, his hands massaging my legs... he's still sweet, impossibly so, when he wants to be...

The rest of the time... oh my...


"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, very."

His hands are on my face now, gently trailing over my forehead, the arch of my brow, my closed lids, my cheeks, my slightly parted lips. His fingers pause there briefly, before moving to my hair, his mouth taking their place. His kiss intoxicates me. I'm floating...

His fingertips trace lightly down the sides of my neck, his lips down the center. The sensation is electric. I whimper when his mouth leaves me, his hands stroking over me as he pushes the jacket open. I know he's looking at me, I want to see, my fascination with his desire undeniable.

"Open your eyes."

I open them and smile at him.

"I know you like to see," he says with a wink.

Of course you do. You know everything.


He gazes at me for a moment before his eyes move hungrily back to my body beneath him.

Yes... that's what I wanted to see. Even if he stops, I know how much he doesn't want to. I want more, but this will be enough if it's all he'll allow us.


He moves to straddle me and his fingers graze seductively over my collarbones. He seems momentarily fascinated by them. I'm fascinated by him, but there's nothing momentary about it...

I watch as his eyes move to my breasts, and I know his hands will soon follow. He inches down slightly over me and the cold metal of his dangling belt buckle drags across my skin, sending a shiver through me. He grabs it and rips it roughly from his pants and throws it across the room.

"The only thing that should make you shiver is me. I don't need props, unless I choose to use them."

"You do."

"EXCUSE ME?"

What did I say? You do... oh! Shit! Sooooo not what I meant...


"I ASSURE YOU I DON'T. You know, that belt could be used for something else."

What? Geez... let me explain! "Please don't do that. That wasn't what I meant at all. You do make me shiver. You know that."

"I do know it, and God help you, because I'm about to make sure you never forget it."

Oh! Yes, please!


I know my face has given me away again when he smirks at me.

"Bring it," I say with a smirk of my own.

He raises a brow and chuckles low in his throat and the shiver that runs through me now is all him. Hello, arrogant bastard...


His eyes are black as he peers down at me and his hand moves to the button of his pants. "Such a smart mouth... "

My cocky smirk disappears. I'm willing, but like this? With what I've heard, I'm not sure this is the position I want to be in... he could kill me!

Another low chuckle, "What's the matter, sweetheart? Gotten yourself into a bit of a predicament?"

He doesn't want to kill me... I'm sure he doesn't... Don't be such a baby! I clear my throat, trying to sound calm, "I wouldn't want to assume anything."

"But I think you are."

He makes a show of unzipping his pants and I bite my lip.

He reaches forward with his other hand and pulls my lip free with his thumb, forcing it into my mouth. "Open for me."

I can hear my breathing, my heart is thumping hard in my chest. I close my eyes for a second, trying to gather courage.

"Keep them closed."

I feel him shift forward and my eyes flash open. "That's mean! At least let me see it before you choke me to death with it!"

Of course, I realize as the words fly unstoppable out of my mouth that the only thing close to it is his own. He rears back and roars with laughter. Evil bastard.


Now that I'm completely humiliated... 

I reach up and cover my face with my hands, but he pulls them instantly away, pinning them above my head.

"Don't ever hide your beautiful face from me, I don't like that."

"I feel stupid. I want to hide."

"You have nothing to feel stupid about."

"You were quite amused."

"Because you're adorable, no other reason."

I don't want to be adorable right now! Adorable will equate to sweet little victim in his eyes and his game will be over. Damn it, I've done it now...

"Don't pout."

I ignore his order. This pout is justified and I'm keeping it.

He narrows his eyes at me and leans down and bites my lip. Hard.

"Ow!"

"I said don't pout."

"It was a real one."

"I know, but unnecessary."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know how you think."

"What am I thinking?"

He releases my hands and sits up, and refastens his pants, but doesn't move off of me. My pout returns.

"What did I say? I promise you, you DO NOT want me to have to repeat myself a third time."

"Okay. Don't get mad."

He leans back and grabs my glass of wine and reaches down to lift my head, putting it to my lips. "Two sips."

I take my permitted two sips and he lays my head gently back on the pillow. After returning my glass to the table, he downs what's left in his in one gulp and turns back to me. "You were thinking that I was going to put a stop to this. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Don't you remember what I told you last night?"

"Ummm... "

"That once you earn something from me, I don't take it away."

"Yes."

"I meant it."

I don't know what I did to earn this, but yay me!

He smiles at the ridiculous grin on my face and his eyes travel over me again. "Did I tell you how incredibly sexy you are?"

"No."

"Unacceptable."

"You can make it up to me."

"Any particular way you'd like me to do that?"

If he's going to give me this, then I can sure as hell give him his control. "As you see fit."

"And here I didn't think you could get any sexier... "

"Hmmm... how sexy would I become if I called you Sir?"

He leans low over me, planting his hands on either side of my head, "You should give it a shot and see."

"I'll add that to my notes."

"I'll share my book with you."

"That's very sweet of you."

"I'm not feeling very sweet," he murmurs, his lips against mine. "Open for me."

I part my lips for him, and his tongue slips inside. This kiss is anything but sweet. His mouth is hungry. His lips... his tongue... he's taking complete control. His hand comes off of the floor next to me and slides under my neck, pulling me to him possessively, his grip less than gentle. There's something about this gesture... it has ruled this day in different variations. It makes me feel... owned. What comes as the greatest shock to me is that I like it.

I want to touch him. I want to feel him. I reach my arms up to wrap around him and he stops.

"No."

He looks into my confused eyes and I know this is part of the control he wants. I put my arms down at my sides.

"Good girl," he whispers, and I see something flicker in his eyes.

His rules.


He rubs the tip of his nose against mine and smiles at me wickedly before running it along my jaw and down my neck.

He doesn't see the pout that forms with the knowledge that I robbed myself of the rest of his kiss. It quickly disappears as I feel his tongue trail across my collarbone. I never would have imagined how sensitive it could be. He seems to know what my body is capable of feeling more than I do. If he wants to teach me, then I am eager to learn. Perhaps his desire for control is a gift in disguise. I do love presents...


I feel a sudden sharp pinch on my nipple and look down to find him looking at me angrily.

"Ow."

"Am I boring you?"

What? "No, why would you... "

"Your mind is elsewhere. I thought you wanted this, but clearly I was mistaken."

He starts to lift off of me, but I grab his shirt. "No! Please... my mind is on you. Like it could be anywhere else? I do want this! Please don't stop!"

"Let go of my shirt."

I do as he says, and let go, hating myself, expecting him to get up, but he stays where he is.

"What were you thinking about? Don't lie to me."

"You know I wouldn't... "

"Answer my question. Nothing else."

"I was thinking how you make me feel things I didn't know were possible. Things I've never felt before."

"And?"

I'm feeling shy, but he knows there's more, and if I have any hope of him not stopping this right now I have to tell him.

"I'm waiting."

Tell him!


"And that you teach me things... "

His expression is cocky now, but his voice sweet, "I think there's more, but I won't make you tell me now. I want to make you feel things, but trust me when I say that you'll feel more if you let everything else go. Don't think, just feel.

I want control. You know that, and you think you're giving it to me, but you're not. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes."

"I want more. If you can't give it to me, then you're not ready for this."

"I can."

"We'll see."

No, you'll see...


He's right. I've never surrendered myself that completely to anyone. It was too much to give. He isn't anyone. It's not too much. Nothing's too much. Not for him.

I take a deep breath and I can feel myself letting go. Surrendering. Trusting completely. I look into his eyes and hope he sees.

I let go of that hope and every other thought when I feel his hands on me, his thumbs flicking gently over my nipples. They harden instantly under his touch, my breath catching in my throat.

"Let it go," I hear him whisper, as his fingers trail over my skin.

He plants soft kisses all around my right breast as his thumb continues it's delicate, torturous assault on my left. His tongue mimics his thumb, and a soft moan escapes me as he pulls it into his mouth. He nips and sucks and lets it fall from his mouth, blowing over it's tip. I cry out as a convulsing shiver runs through me, and I hear him chuckle as he moves to repeat the heavenly torture on my left.

He slides down my body, still straddled over me, his hands and tongue teasing every inch of my stomach... touch... kiss... lick... again and again. Jolt after jolt of his electric touch surges through me. I am a quivering mess...

"Look at me," he orders, as his fingers trail just inside the edge of the lace of my shorts.

I do as I'm told and his eyes don't leave mine as he rolls back on his feet to pull my legs up from under him, bending my knees, my feet flat on the blanket.

"Don't you want to see?"

I know he's going to pull them off. I know he's going to look at me. I do want to see.

I nod my head shyly, feeling the now familiar blush color my cheeks.

He smiles at me, "I'll let that one go. Just this once."

My eyes go wide as I realize what he means... I didn't answer him.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm not so evil that I can't appreciate the innocence that is still a part of you."

I frown and he shakes his head.

"Don't do that. As much as I adore it, I am evil enough to let you give it to me."

My frown turns into a face-splitting smile and he winks at me, before his eyes travel back to the gift I'm dying to give him. His eyes narrow and flash back to mine, his mouth twitching.

"You have some explaining to do."

I don't understand... "What?"

He glares at me, then turns his angry gaze back down as he slides the lacy fabric from me and tosses it away. He places his hand between my barely-parted knees and his eyes move back to my face.

"Open for me."

I'm confused. I don't understand what's upset him. My legs are trembling as I move my feet around him to do as he says. He glances back down, his breath catching slightly, before looking back up at me.

"How long have you been anticipating my sudden change of heart?"

What? "I don't understand."

"You haven't been anywhere without me in several days."

"That's true."

"Who's it for?"

"Jaimin, I'm sorry, but I still don't understand. Who's what for?"

He slides his thumb along the smooth skin and I can't help the gasp that escapes me, despite his suddenly distracted and angry mood.

"THAT."

What the hell? "YOU."

"Don't be smart."

I am completely baffled. "I'm not. What did I do? Please tell me."

"Don't play games with me, Claire."

I don't know what the hell I did, but the moment has obviously passed. I start to pull myself up, suddenly very uncomfortable in my current position on display.

"Did I tell you to move?"

"No," I whisper, laying back down.

His thumb repeats it's earlier movement over me, and I tense. I don't think I'm supposed to enjoy this.

He smacks the side of my thigh. "I said don't turn yourself off to me."

"I didn't think you wanted me to... "

"That's what you get for assuming. Is this a leftover preference of his?"

Oh... now I see. "No."

He just glares at me, not saying anything. Maybe I should elaborate. "It's a preference of mine."

Still nothing.

"If you don't like it... "

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

"Then why are you angry with me?"

"Do you do it yourself?"

"Only if I can't get an appointment when I want... "

"No more appointments."

"What? But you said... "

"Do you think I'm going to allow someone to so much as look at you, let alone touch you?"

"It's a professional salon. It's a woman... "

"NO. MORE. APPOINTMENTS."

"You're being incredibly overbearing."

"You'll get used to it."

"You're... "

"My rules."

"My body."

"Whose?"

"Jaimin... "

"WHOSE?"

"Ours."

"Try again."

I laugh and shake my head, what else can I do... I still wouldn't change him... "Yours."

He's looking at me with a cocky grin. He knows he's an ass, but he knows he's won. Again.

"Can I get up now?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not finished with you."

"You're not?"

"No. Unless you don't want it anymore. You can always say no."

"You're funny."

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you."

I see the flame reignite in his eyes and his fingers begin to trail lazily up and down the outsides of my thighs. Just like that, I am putty in his hands. His eyes leave mine to once again look down at his unclaimed gift and this time I see exactly what I wanted.

"Jaimin?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"As you see fit and all of that, but can I point out one thing?"

"What's that?"

"You're ridiculously overdressed."

"Well, kitten, you only think that because you're making assumptions again."

Assumptions? What...


My train of thought disappears as his lips start to weave a path of tender kisses down the inside of my thigh. My hands grip the blanket and my back arches in response.


His hands are low on my thighs and move suddenly beneath me, gripping hard and possessive on my ass. He lifts me to him, so close to his mouth that I can feel his breath against me.

"Tell me again who it's for."

Holy hell! I stare at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed, sure I can't speak.

"TELL ME."

He called me kitten... 


He wrote make my kitten purr... 


This was his plan all along...


Oh.


My.


God.


I try to answer him, but no sound comes out. He smirks shamelessly at my silent but moving mouth and squeezes me harder.

"You can do it. I need to hear it. Don't deny me."

His warm breath against my delicate flesh sends shiver after shiver through me. I can do it. He said need. That's enough to give me strength. I could never deny him.

"You... " I manage to say shakily, "It's... for... you."

I watch him as he begins to move his mouth slowly over me, his lips parted slightly, barely grazing my sensitive skin.  His breath tickles me as it flows in and out, igniting every nerve in my body. His lips are soft, featherlight and relentless in their tease. The ache building inside of me is so intense that I feel tears start to form in my eyes, the sensation overwhelming me.

"Please... " I beg breathlessly.

He doesn't stop and I feel his mouth vibrate against me as he murmurs "Patience, kitten."

I cry out from the unexpected pleasure of it and he gives me more. "Such a good girl."

My hands grip desperately to the blanket beneath me and he answers my silent plea with a rough squeeze of my ass, pulling me hard against his mouth for the briefest second. I cry out again and he rewards me with a long hum against my throbbing flesh.

I can't hold still. I can't control the need he has built in me. My toes dig into the blanket and force my hips upward, begging him to have mercy on me. His hands move quickly to wrap around my thighs, holding me in place, causing me to open even more before him.

"So eager.... not yet, sweetheart. It's my gift, and I want to play with it."

Oh, dear God... he does want to kill me...


"Hmmm... and such a beautiful gift."

His eyes and the appreciation I see in them gives me a moment of courage. Seeing his want fascinates me to no end. He knows this, of course, and looks up at me and smiles, before returning his lips to brush lightly against me.

I whimper and I feel his smile.

"So soft... "

Damn him...


He runs the tip of his nose down through my soft folds, giving me the first bit of real pressure and I nearly come undone.

"You're intoxicating. Do you know that?"

"No," I cry, "Please... "

"So impatient... "

So evil!


"And, trust me, yes."

"It's for you," I try.

He chuckles low in his throat. "I know that, but I don't think you're ready. That's unfortunate... because my mouth is watering for a taste."

Oh, please! "You've been known to be wrong."

"Once or twice."

"Or three times, if you count now."

"I'd be willing to test that, if only you could hold still."

"I can."

"I don't think so."

"Now you're assuming."

"Valid point, sweetheart."

He releases his firm grip his right hand was holding on my thigh and drags his fingers lightly over me towards the aching heat between my legs. He glides his fingers through the wetness that has pooled there and looks up at me.

"I stand corrected. You seem quite ready. Stop holding your breath."

I exhale and watch him with wide eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting me from them.

His eyes blaze with want and his voice is low as he speaks, "Oh, Miss Beaulieu... my fragile ego shatters before you."

I look at him, confused, and a sexy smile forms on his lips.

"Not even I could create such a magnificent delicacy. Your perfection is beyond me. I am humbled."

The only thing shattered is me. My God... "Oh, Mr. Guillory... but you're wrong again. You did create it."

There it is... just what I hoped for... arrogant bastard returns with a vengeance.


I lose all coherent thought as his mouth claims me. His lips, his tongue... tasting his creation. He made this dripping, throbbing magnificent delicacy. It's his and he wants it.

The pleasure throttles me as his tongue ravishes me, flicking at me mercilessly, sending me immediately to the edge. I come off the floor as I feel it push inside of me and he holds me still, continuing his sweet exploration, pushing it as deep in me as he can. His lips against me are a gentle massage of my swollen flesh as he bores his tongue into me.

My cries and pleas fuel him, make him hungry. He pulls it from inside of me and licks me, harder and harder, his masterful tongue taking now, not giving. He moans deep and low against me, the vibration sublime, and I know the taste of me is now consuming him. His hands are beneath me again, pulling me off of the floor and greedily to his mouth. I have never felt so desired, so adored. This knowledge itself could push me over the edge, but his mouth needs no help. I'm so close...

His moans are animalistic as he thrusts me up, again and again, feeding his hunger. He can't get me close enough. He sucks me into his mouth, devouring me, and I start to come apart.

"Yes!" I scream, "It's for you... it's yours... take it all... "

His deep growl rings in my ears as I surrender myself to him, the waves crashing over me again and again, pulling me under into the depths of oblivion. I let it take me, let him take me where he wants me, let him drown me with his gift of bliss.

The waves don't let up their assault on me, and neither does his mouth. My body is no longer my own. He's right, it's his, it belongs to him. I've given him everything, but still he wants more. He licks and sucks, relishing every drop of my sweet surrender, unwilling to relinquish his control over me. I have nothing left, I'm completely shattered. I pull at him frantically, begging for mercy, but he doesn't give in to my pleas. He grasps my hands firmly in his and holds them securely.

"Endure it for me."

I give up my fight when I hear his words, and his mouth resumes it's torment, not letting me come down. His movements are gentle now... his thumbs grazing tenderly on the backs of my hands in his... his tongue swirling gently over my flamed flesh... followed by soft kisses. My whole body trembles for him. My every breath is his name. I'm pulled under again, tossed and rolled... a dance in his chaotic bliss... and then I'm floating. Floating in his adoration. I feel my hands still held in his, his arms against my hips, cradling me, making me feel safe and protected as he savors... my dripping, shattered existence his prize.

"Such a good girl... " he murmurs against my skin as he trails kisses up my body. He doesn't leave an inch unloved as he makes his way up to me. "Look at me, beautiful," he whispers softly, as he pushes my sweat-soaked hair from where it has plastered itself to my face and neck. My eyes flutter open and meet his tender gaze and he smiles adoringly at me.

"Would you do something for me?"

My voice is an exhausted whisper, "Anything."

"So sweet... " he smiles again as he reaches back and takes a piece of ice from the bucket on the table behind him. He glides it over my lips as he looks at me. "Open for me."

I open and he slides it into my mouth, running it along the insides of my lips and down my tongue as far as his fingers will reach. He slides it back up so his fingertips are just between my lips. "Suck," he says with a wink, and I close my mouth around them and suck greedily, thirsting for the wetness of the ice and the taste of him.

His eyes blaze for a moment and I hear a soft moan and then he's back in control. "That's enough."

I open my mouth and he tosses the ice into the dwindling fire, causing a soft crackle. He leans over me, our lips almost touching, gazing intently into my eyes, "I want you to taste how delicious you are. Will you let me show you?"

It doesn't escape me that he's asking, not telling, his innocence in this one thing showing itself to me. I feel the blush make it's appearance on my cheeks, adding itself to the glow I know I wear. He strokes my cheek softly with his fingers and raises his brows in question.

"Yes," I whisper shyly.

He cradles my face in his hands and his lips touch mine. I open for him, he doesn't need to ask, and his tongue slips inside. His kiss is deep and I taste the delicacy he was so enraptured by mixed with the taste that is him. He's turned on by this, I can feel it before his order comes.

"Suck," he says into my mouth and pushes his tongue deeper.

I don't deny him, I take it between my lips and suck hungrily, tasting him, his desire, and myself. I feel him groan into my mouth and my hands grasp the back of his head, pulling him hard to me, sucking his tongue furiously. He wanted me to taste myself, wanted me to take it from him, and he gives it to me mercilessly. I want him. I want to taste him. Only him. My hands move frantically down to his pants and I just get the button undone when he pulls them away.

"No."

"Please," I beg. "I want you. I want you in my mouth. I want to taste you. Please."

"Fuck... " he says, and I know my plea is coursing through his mind, threatening to crumble his will.

I try to pull my hands from his grasp, thinking he'll let me, hoping... but he holds them firm.

"No, sweetheart."

"Why?"

"This was just for you."

"But that's not fair... "

"Shhh... it's more than fair."

"But... "

"No."

He means it. I see it. He's not going to budge. I don't understand, but I won't push anymore. I don't want to make him angry. His rules. His moment of innocence is gone. He's back in control.

"Okay," I murmur quietly. "As you see fit."

"Don't pout."

I give him a sad smile and he kisses me sweetly, then breaks into a cocky grin.

"Yes?" I ask with a chuckle, knowing something shameless is coming.

"I'm still good at everything."

I sigh dramatically and my voice is a purr, "Oh... yes you are... "