Hopefully, today would be different. I didn’t know what the future held for us. I knew what was planned in our contract and I didn’t like it. A break up in one week. But that didn’t have to happen. If the world liked me dating a sweet children’s librarian, who said I couldn’t keep on dating her? I knew it was crazy to be thinking like this, so wrapped up, wanting so much more. We’d only known each other for three weeks.
But it wasn’t a normal three weeks. We’d traveled to Paris. Met each other’s families. Hell, I’d proposed to her and she’d accepted. Yesterday, I’d taken that ridiculous ring off of her while she was asleep. As much as I liked the thought of seeing her wear my ring—and yes I did—that wasn’t my ring. That was Lola’s ring. And it looked like a reminder of everything that was fake, everything she wasn’t. I didn’t like the reminder. Plus it just looked almost uncomfortable, like she’d smack her hand against something and it would hurt.
I didn’t know what would come next between us. But I did know we had a couple of days together now, just us. No interruptions, no interference. No paparazzi, no groupies or other celebrities or PR reps. My phone was turned off. We had a playground before us, and we didn’t have to share it with anyone else.
In the warm, steamy shower, my cock pulsed with need. Hard as a rock. I’d been hard since last night, pressed against her in bed. Feeling her desire, stirring up her lust, so close to her wet center I’d almost said fuck it and lost myself.
I’d wanted to come in her with a fierce, primal need, like a fucking firehose. The need hadn’t exactly abated overnight. I hadn’t had Ana in days, not since Vegas. Technically it was only two days, but it felt like two years. I craved her like I had never craved anyone before.
I brought my hand down to my shaft, wrapping my fingers around it. Stroking my length, I could feel the release so close. Veins pulsing down its length, my balls tight with come, I pumped myself. It would feel so good to come, to explode.
But I took my hand away, brought it to the wall of the shower. Slowly, breathing, I took back control. I didn’t want to come in the shower, hot and quick in my hand. I wanted to come in Ana. Again and again.
Even if she didn’t remember the conversation we’d had last night, her impulses would still there, her instinct to respond. She wanted my power, my domination. She wanted to submit, let herself go, surrender to her dark fantasies. I’d take her there.
Around eleven o’clock, she finally woke up, all rosy and sleepy. Her golden chestnut hair was in a tumble, so naturally gorgeous, thick with a slight curl to it.
“Hi,” she said as she padded into the kitchen in a borrowed pair of socks, looking sleepy and shy.
“Hey. How’re you feeling?”
“Much better.” She smiled at me and I embraced her, relieved to see her looking like herself again. A sleepy self, but the color had fully returned to her cheeks. With some coffee and breakfast, she’d be back to normal. “I see you raided my clothes.” I had to tease her, but I loved it. She looked so cute in my T-shirt and boxers, oversized and draping off her curves. Those boxers would be so easy to slip right off.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? I don’t even want to tell you that your bags are here, too.” I’d had the hotel pack her belongings and she had everything she needed here. But if I had anything to say about it, clothes weren’t going to factor much into the next couple of days. I had a couple of silk restraints I’d like to see on her, strategically placed around her wrists and ankles, but that was about it.
“Wow.” She walked over to the large window above the sink in the kitchen. Yeah, that about summed it up. I joined her and together we watched the winter fury raging outside. “It’s a crazy storm.”
“Worst one in years. And it’s going to be like this all day and into tomorrow.” I saw a slight blush creep to her cheeks, the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. Maybe she did remember our conversation from last night. But she needed some fuel in her first.
Together, we made toast and scrambled eggs. I’d already brewed some coffee, nectar of the gods. The pantry was stocked full of my favorite Italian brand. As much as my celebrity status caused problems, it also brought many small blessings on a daily basis. Like expensive, imported Italian coffee in the middle of the storm of the century in the remote California mountains.
“These are so good!” Ana ate her eggs with relish.
“You’ve seen it all from me now,” I confessed, enjoying them, myself. “I’ve boiled you pasta and scrambled you eggs.” Food generally appeared in my life. I hadn’t ever done much to procure it.
“No more tricks up your sleeve?” Ana asked, smiling.
“Not in the kitchen.” I winked at her and was rewarded with a faint blush again. Man, she was fun to tease. And I’d lied, just then. I had a few more kitchen-related tricks. They just weren’t related to cooking food.
Outside, the storm blasted relentlessly as we washed our dishes. She sent her parents a quick text that she was OK. Then she turned off her phone. I flicked on the TV to check the weather report. They’d sent some poor schmuck out into the middle of it, wearing a parka with a hood so enormous it threatened to swallow him whole.
“Stay indoors,” he warned us. I didn’t need to be told twice.
“Oh, I didn’t see this before!” Ana exclaimed. Over in an adjoining room off, she spotted the grand piano. Normally, the room overlooked a spectacular view of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Today, it was surrounded by white fury.
She sat down at the instrument and I had to join her. But I kept my hands away from the keys while she played me something classical I didn’t recognize, but I had to guess it was Russian with the intense passion in the chords. It complimented the storm raging outside. The Russians knew their snow.
No bra, in my T-shirt, I liked the look on her very much. There was something so deliciously intimate about seeing her in my clothes. I’d never really had a girlfriend before, not like this. I’d had my name linked with others, most recently Mandy Monroe, but I was always on the go and it made it easy to go in separate directions. I’d always wanted it that way. Now I didn’t want Ana out of my sight.
My fingers joining hers on the keyboard, we began creating something together, starting off simple then blending into a more complex melody. I’d bring us back to the chorus and she’d take it somewhere else. Then she’d bring us back and I’d build on it, see where it led. It was exactly like having a conversation, only I was better at this than at words. I’d always been better with music, communicating with my hands. And my body.
“Do you remember our conversation from last night?” I asked as our fingers played over the keys.
The blush on her cheeks grew deeper this time, blooming there from deep within. “Yesterday is kind of blurry. I remember feeling really out of it.”
I played a few keys, the soundtrack of feeling so blue.
“And I remember you kidnapped me,” she continued.
I played sounds of a sinister villain stealing away the heroine from a classic Western. “Then I gave you a bath,” I added, moving my fingers up the keys, remembering how her skin had felt, so warm and soft as I lathered and massaged her.
“That was good,” she agreed, feeding notes into my tapestry of sound.
“And then we climbed in bed together,” I added, softly. “Do you remember that?”
The intake of her breath, her nipples ripe and pebbling under my soft, thin T-shirt. She remembered.
“We talked about you surrendering to me. Giving up control. I’d very much like to do that with you. I’d like to tie you up. Blindfold you and play with you. What do you think of that, Ana?” I took my hands off the keys and brought them to her waist.
She inhaled at my touch, my fingers seeming to electrify her. “I’m not sure.”
“Are you curious?” A smile played at the corner of my mouth. I could tell she was, but I wanted to hear her confess it.
“Yes,” she answered shyly, her
head tilting down.
“You don’t have to be shy with me, Ana.” I took her chin in my hand and brought her head up so I could meet her eyes level. “You don’t have to hide anything.”
Her lips parted at my suggestion. She wanted to go there with me, she just needed the right invitation. She needed to feel safe.
“I want to take control, Ana.” I caressed a finger down her face, her smooth skin, and she leaned into my touch. “But you can always tell me to stop.”
She opened up her eyes and looked into mine. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No, baby, not like that.” I kissed her and gave her a reassuring embrace. “I don’t want to beat you or whip you or any of that hardcore play. There might be a little pain, but I’m not a sadist. I’m dominant. Let me show you the difference.”