I wiped your soiled face with the sheet, then pulled you down beside me and buried my nose in your hair. We rested like that for a while, sated and silent as we slowly regained our senses.
You rolled on top of me, blanketing my body with yours. Your hands stretched my wrists high above my head and your legs snaked and coiled around mine.
“Pinned,” you said with satisfaction.
I laughed. “That wasn’t regulation.”
“Of course, it was. I just had to get a little creative in my takedown.”
How could I argue with that logic? “Will you attempt this maneuver on the warborn?”
You grew thoughtful for a moment, then said. “No. I’m a shit wrestler. But I want you to keep up with your training. Find a beastborn to practice with in secret. Don’t let the warborn know about your talent. I want to save it for a rainy day.”
I gave you a questioning look. You usually let me in on your grander schemes. “So many secrets,” I mused.
Your fingers gripped my chin and you forced me to look at you. “You’re going to have to trust me tomorrow. I may do some things you don’t like.”
My back stiffened and my arms held you tighter as if on instinct. “I won’t let you endanger yourself.”
You wriggled out of my embrace, sat up, and pressed one finger to my chest, needling my sternum. Your hair was a tangled black crown, eyebrows drawn together sharply. Your imperious demeanor stirred my lust again as I imagined you riding me like this, taking control.
“That’s not for you to decide. This is where you can command me, in our bedroom, but other than our fucking, you serve me. Understand?”
I studied the severity of your expression. There was no teasing or lightness in your tone, and I recognized this for what it was. A test of wills. As you’d battled Lena just that morning. On some things you were willing to be persuaded, and on others, you were resolute.
“Okay, Vincent.”
“Say it,” you demanded, as though I might only be placating you.
“With the exception of our lovemaking, I serve you.”
You nodded, content at last, then collapsed on top of me, boneless and soft as a kitten. You were a study in contrasts, and as I lay there stroking your soft hair, I wondered, as I often did, how much planning you’d given to our evening and whether this was the natural conclusion to our intimacy or if it was premeditated. Had you submitted to me in order to gain my obedience?
Perhaps it was the afterglow of my orgasm which kept me from pondering too deeply because instead of feeling vexed by your manipulation, I was optimistic. If you could master Lena and myself, then perhaps you could conquer the other tribes as well.
