“Shhh.” I held her elbows and urged her back down. “Do you trust me, Kitten?” I unfastened her bra and massaged the red marks it had left. She liked that. “Do you believe me when I tell you I wouldn’t hurt you? Not like before. Not ever.” My thumbs pressed on either side of her spine between her shoulders and pressed forward to the base of her neck. Livvie sighed.
“Yes. I trust you.” Her mouth went slack and her muscles loosened beneath my hands. “Just… be gentle.”
I sported a sad smile Livvie couldn’t see. The first time she’d said those words to me, she’d thought I was about to make love to her. Instead, she’d told me she loved me and I’d been cruel. I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
I settled the length of my body on top of her. I kissed her shoulder.
“I promise, Kitten. I’ll stop if you don’t want it.” I pressed my c**k against her. “Spread your legs.” There was no hesitation this time. Livvie’s thighs spread on either side of me in invitation.
I watched the side of her face intently as I moved my hips. My dick was slippery. I knew she could feel the heat and weight of it sliding between her cheeks. Penetration could not happen, and having removed the threat of it, I knew the temptation would be planted.
Livvie’s eyes were closed, only opening occasionally when accompanied by a shy moan. Her teeth worried at her lip and already her fingers were near her mouth. The pink stain of arousal painted her cheek.
I kissed her cheek, the back of her neck, her shoulder—faint little kisses that offered comfort but did nothing to soothe the heat of arousal. I wanted her delirious with desire. I wanted her pulsing with lust. I wanted her to beg.
I adjusted my angle and for the first time let the tip brush against her opening. It was an implicit suggestion, but only that. I wanted her to crave my domination as much as I desired her submission.
Triumph!
Livvie let out a pleading sound. Her hips made little thrusts before she could help it. I went back to rocking against her. I treasured Livvie’s sigh of disappointment, the way she forced her hips to stop moving.
“Tell me what you want,” I said hotly in her ear.
She frowned, resisting.
I pulled my hips back and brushed her hole with an oiled finger. I pressed inside slowly, only to the first knuckle. Livvie was moaning loudly. I withdrew.
“Tell me.”
“Please, Caleb.” She lifted tail.
“Tell me.” I held the tip of my c**k against her and pushed gently.
“Oh god!” She fisted the sheets and arched her back. “Please, Caleb. I need you.”
That was certainly good enough for me. However, having suddenly gained the submission I desired, I wondered if I was perhaps wrong to accept.
I kissed Livvie’s shoulder.
“Thank you for that. I know I’m a difficult man to trust.” My fingers found her wet flesh and slipped inside. It was familiar territory. It did not require me to be overly gentle or careful. It did not require her to bend her will to mine. It was safe.
Livvie hissed in arousal. Her hips moved as much as they were able beneath my weight.
“What are you doing?” Her voice carried on little more than breath.
I curved my fingers downward, pressing against the front of her inner walls. I knew I could make her come that way.
“I thought it was obvious. First, I’m going to make you come and then I’m going to f**k you until you do it again. And maybe once more after that.”
She whimpered. I lived for that sound.
“But… I thought… oh god… right there.” A series of moans and incoherent begging filled the small, intimate space between Livvie’s mouth and my ears. A wet rush escaped around my buried fingers. Livvie’s body was rigid, hijacked by her orgasm. And then she went limp. I slowly withdrew my fingers. I was eager to replace them.
“No, Caleb,” she murmured into the bedding. “Not like that.”
“Not like what?”
“I know what you want.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I want it to hurt,” she whispered.
Her hair was matted to her forehead. Her body was flushed, and her eyes were closed. She didn’t acknowledge my tense reaction. She didn’t open her eyes to take in the moment. She seemed afloat in her bliss despite asking me to hurt her. Who the hell are you?
“You want me to hurt you?” I whispered.
She was quiet for a moment.
“I trust you, Caleb.”
It was the first time I’d ever been in Livvie’s apartment alone. She had classes during the day but didn’t have to work in the evening. She asked if I’d be there when she came home and I said yes because it beat being in my hotel room.
The sun flooded Livvie’s apartment. I lay in her bed, smothered in throw pillows of various colors and shapes (Seriously ladies, what the f**k with all the pillows?). I felt especially dirty jerking off in her frilly bed. I was sure to wipe up my come with a fuzzy pink pillow. I hoped it would prompt Livvie to throw the damn thing away.
Afterward, I took a shower, made myself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, and perused the stack of movies Livvie had rented and left on the coffee table. I’d never been the type of man who liked to eat cereal, let alone kid cereal, but Livvie loved the stuff and it was often the only thing I could find in her kitchen. I knew she could cook when she wanted to, but it seemed the mood rarely struck her. Some nights we ate cereal for dinner.
I decided not to watch the movies without Livvie since she seemed to enjoy regaling me with random movie factoids as we watched. I made the mistake of asking why we were watching “Episode IV” instead of starting from the beginning, and what followed was a diatribe about George Lucas and how he ruined Star Wars when he released three prequels. I didn’t much care, but I enjoyed watching Livvie rant about things that weren’t me. What I didn’t much enjoy was the way she stared at me the entire time I watched the movie to gauge my response during “awesome” scenes.
As I sat on the couch eating my cereal, my eyes landed on Livvie’s laptop. It was just sitting on the coffee table—daring me! Livvie was on the thing whenever she had time. I desperately wanted to know what Livvie had been writing and why she was keeping it from me. I remembered the way Livvie had snapped at Claudia to be quiet. Then the way she’d avoided the topic in Paris. It only made me more curious. I determined fairly quickly it had to be about me, us, or better—her.