“Honestly? I think I’m still figuring it out. I like being in charge.” He gives me a smirk before putting his other hand on top of mine. “I like impact play, making a mess of my partner and giving them so much pleasure they can’t think straight.”
“Sounds like a daddy to me,” I say jokingly, but he looks at me like it’s not a joke at all, like he could potentially like it just as much as I do. He licks his lips and looks down at our hands.
“If I do something you don’t like?” he asks. My first thought is ‘impossible.’ My second thought was about all the things I didn’t like Sean doing and I didn’t stick up for myself. I need to be different, I want this to be different so desperately.
“Outside of the bedroom, I’ll tell you directly. Inside of the bedroom no or stop is direct with me. I don’t use those words freely. If I say no or stop, I mean it.” He looks at me seriously, taking in my words. “Same for you?” I ask.
“Same for me, I can do that.”
“If you don’t like being called daddy, it’s not a deal breaker for me.” He licks his lips again and looks down at mine.
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
He’s on me in an instant. Leaning forward, his hands leaving mine as one tangles in my hair and cups the back of my head. His other grips the lounge chair for support. His eyes meet mine, like he’s checking in and this is what I want. I bite my lip and nod my head—it’s the only communication he needs as his lips touch mine. His lips are soft and warm as he gently kisses me. This is a first kiss, an exploration of our chemistry and learning each other’s reactions.
Aiden is patient and in no rush to shove his tongue down my throat, he’s delicate with each press of his lips. My hands are pressed against his chest and my chin is tilted up toward him. His hand on my head is firm, but not rough. I want to tell him that I’m not made of glass but at the same time I’m soaking up his gentle reverence.
His soft kisses end far too soon as he separates from my lips, Standing to his full height, he holds out his hand, which I eagerly take. We still have some time before dinner as he leads us out toward the beach for a walk.
“I don’t want to rush things. I want to do this right,” he says. I must make a noise of protest, because I want more kisses and touches. His hand squeezes mine, and he leans down and kisses the side of my hair. “It’s important that I do this right,” he says, and I can’t argue with that tone or how fucking adorable I find this man. I’ve never felt like I’d be valuable enough for someone to pursue in this way, and I can’t deny the feeling is both overwhelming and heartwarming.
“I want to do this right too. But that doesn’t mean we can’t kiss or do other stuff,” I say. You can’t blame me, not really. He looks so damn good with the sun shining against his skin, he just kissed me like I was precious, and is basically agreeing to be my dream man.
“We’ll see where we stand after dinner.” He smirks and drags me along the beach, I nearly forgot about dinner with all the extremely adult conversations we had. Is this what a healthy relationship looks like? Fuck if I know, all I know is this dinner better knock his pants off—literally.
12
GIVE DADDY A KISS
The dinner Jessamade for us is un-fucking-believable. Honestly, this whole night feels unreal. I’ve never been vulnerable like that with a woman before, and it’s given me a level of comfort with Jessa I didn’t expect so early.
Could I dom her in the bedroom without a single conversation, there’s no doubt in my mind. But with her, I want something more, I want a dynamic that works behind closed doors and out in the open. Finding that delicate balance isn’t something that’s going to happen overnight. That’s why this night needed to slow down. I could have taken Jessa right to her bedroom and spent hours there with her, but this isn’t just about carnal urges—for either of us.
“Do you want dessert?” she asks as she puts my plate in the sink. I nod my head and she hands me a small, clearly homemade cupcake. “It’s from a box,” she says quickly. I take a bite and smile at her, which she returns.
“Tastes perfect to me,” I tell her and a dusting of pink takes over her cheeks. It’s still early enough in the evening that I don’t feel like I need to leave right away, and I can tell Jessa wants me to stay longer as well. “Want to watch something?”
“Yes,” she says quickly with a smile. “What do you like?”
“I like a little bit of everything, and I’ll never make you watch sports unless you want to.”
She smirks as she leads me to the couch, her taking a seat first and me following, there are a few inches of space between us, and I make a note to close that gap as soon as possible. “I think I have a good compromise,” she says. She tucks her legs under herself as she pulls out the remote and finds what she wants to watch.
I haven’t felt this nervous around a woman in years. I think part of it has to do with how badly I don’t want to fuck this up. If we started something and it went horribly, this would all be for naught. And maybe a part of me is jealous or feels a little uncomfortable with the thought that I’m the inexperienced one in the lifestyle that she’s used to.
Not that her ex seems like a fucking prize. It’s clear, some of the things he did to her were so fucking wrong and never how I would treat a submissive. Plus, the person is supposed to be your partner before you add any additional dynamic into the mix. I want to make this right for her. I want to give her what she needs, and I can’t help the glimmer of hope that I’ll get everything I’ve been seeking in return.
She puts on a show calledFriday Night Lights.I’m focusing more on her than the show, but she smiles up at me. “You know, I think you kind of look like Coach Taylor.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Maybe a little nicer though?”
“You think I’m nice?” I smirk at her and she nods. “I don’t have to always be nice.” I mean it, I’ve worked through a lot of anger and frustration. I do my best to be kind to others and keep that part under wraps. But if she wants a little mean with the nice, I can do that too. Though I prefer a softer approach, I can play whatever role she wants.
Her throat bobs. “I like you nice, but maybe sometimes,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
“You’re pretty far away on the couch there.” She immediately scooches over so that my arm is wrapped around her and she’s leaning slightly against me as we watch this ridiculous football show.
