But I am done hiding my feelings for her. I am done letting her set the terms of our relationship.
I stop my ministrations and say, “Tell me, Annabelle. Do you want me to love you?”
“No,” she pants. “What a ridiculous thing to ask.”
I return to teasing her. I work her back up again until her fingers twist in the coverlet. Then I stop.
“You said today that you were only fond of me. But I do not feel the same.”
“I do not care what you feel.”
I play with her again, licking and sucking until she is panting once more.
And then I stop.
“Oh, but you will,” I say softly. I cannot believe that I am trifling with her in such a way. I used to fear her—but now, now that I have lost everything that I thought I cared for, I am less scared than I ever have been in my entire life. “What if I cannot help but love you? What would you do then? If you were merely fond of me—but I was your slave, so in love with you that I couldn’t see straight or think of anyone else? Would that please you?”
“It is no matter to me.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you care or not, Annabelle. You cannot stop how I feel for you.”
I return to tantalizing her and then halt my progress.
“Please,” she pants. “Please continue.”
In the dim light of the room, I can see her plump clit yearning for release. She is so swollen and bothered that she must be truly aching.
“Not until you give me leave to love you.”
Her clit looks so delectable that I can’t resist bringing my mouth to it. I give her one shallow lick, one sweet dip of pleasure, then cut it short.
She lets out a truly ragged moan and tries to move her hands down to touch herself. I catch her wrists and pin them down.
“Just give me leave, Annabelle. Then I’ll give you everything you want. We needn’t keep secrets. We can be honest with each other about our desires. I understand that you will only ever be fond of me.”
I reward her again with another sweet long lick and she tenses in ecstasy. “But I love you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. My heart and my cock don’t work in half measures.”
“You—don’t—mean—it.”
“Of course I do,” I say. “You are a complicated woman. I, however, am simple.”
I lick her again and am rewarded with another desperate cry. Her clit has swollen even further.
“I will never expect your love in return, but tell me, Annabelle, do you give me leave to love you?”
I put my mouth to her again and thrust two fingers inside, finding that little rough spot that drives her to climax faster. However, I don’t stroke her. I just hold her there, not letting her go over the edge. I will not give it to her until she agrees. I am doing what she did to me today. It is her version of ruin, somehow, to accept my love.
“Or I can leave you like this, Annabelle. Because the truth is I might as well if you don’t want me loving you. If you won’t let me, then I should leave you panting and squirming for me, and I should go wander the world as a penniless and broken and ruined man, because I will love you whether you let me or not. The only way that I could not love you would be if I had never met you. I could try to forget you, but it wouldn’t work. I would love you from afar if you banished me. But you won’t banish me, will you? Because I cangive you this.”
I dip my head and with one last long suck bring her right back to the edge. And then I hold her there.
“Alfred, please.”
“I will give you what you want. Just say the words. Let me love you.”
“Fine,” she says, her voice breaking on the word, her breath nearly a scream. “You may.”
And so I give her what she has earned, stroking that spot inside of her and giving her clit everything with my mouth.
