Chapter Twenty-Two
Jonah
I can’t believe we’re finally going to do this.
“I don’t think you need help being bossy.”
I laugh. “Fair point.” And I could let it go, but I’m tired of letting my stupid fears decide my life. “I want to take care of you. Give you what you need. Please show me.”
He kisses me again. I’m hard already, and we’ve barely done anything. I hope I can last more than a few seconds.
“You mentioned rules?” I ask.
“Yes—give me a second.” Vivian takes a few shaky breaths and then pats my chest. “Sit up, doll. We need to be clear-headed for this.”
I move off him and sit with my back against the headboard. He scoots up beside me. The television on the other side of the room isn’t interesting in the least. But I can’t look at Vivian with his swollen lips and mussed hair and still concentrate on his words.
We talk about our limits. He likes pain, but I can’t stand the thought of hurting him. “We can work up to that. See what you’re comfortable with.”
“That sounds good.” But I hate the thought of not giving him what he needs.
He takes my hand and threads our fingers together. My eyes burn. We’ve held hands before, but this is Vivian accepting me. Trusting me. And it’s a lot.
“Are you okay?”
I kiss his forehead. “Let’s keep going.”
“Let’s talk about safewords. Not that we’re doing much yet,” he adds, correctly reading the nervousness that’s probably all over my face. I want it to be perfect for him. And I know it won’t be. Not at first. “Even if you just feel overwhelmed, I want you to use it, okay?”
I agree, and we decide to just use the traffic light system. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for good to go. I’m all about keeping it simple. But then a thought hits me. “What if you can’t…?” I hesitate, my face heating up.
“If I can’t what?”
I hate being inexperienced. “You know, talk. Say your safeword.”
“Why can’t I talk?”
I bury my face between his shoulder and the headboard. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
Vivian chuckles. “Yes. But, doll, I’m not trying to embarrass you. I need to know exactly what you’re thinking.” He leans down to catch my gaze. His voice is confident without a shred of hesitation. “Am I unable to talk because your cock is stuffed in my mouth? Or because you’ve gagged me?”
“Oh fuck.” My entire body is on fire, but this time it’s not from embarrassment. I close my eyes, but the images remain. “Give me a minute.”
“Take your time.” His hands grip my biceps, and he kisses the side of my face.
I focus on his quick breaths. He’s not immune. And that makes it easier. “Just so you know,” I say, opening my eyes, “I’m good with either.”
He groans and presses down on the bulge in his sleep shorts. How is this man so perfect? Not just his looks, but my eyes are drawn there now. His smooth legs. His lean body. His long, graceful neck. His swollen lips. High cheekbones—the bruise on one side that’s now purple. And his dark eyes, so full of desire. Vivian wants me. It’s impossible, but true.
“What do you want, Jonah?”
“Whatever you want?—”
But Vivian’s already shaking his head. “Don’t overthink it. You’re in charge—not always true, but we’ll leave that for now. In this moment, I’m here to make you happy.” His gaze moves to the outline of my bulge as my cock tries to punch through my shorts like the thing fromAlien. His hand follows, his fingertips roaming up my thigh. They stop just short, and I whine in frustration. “I’m yours to command. Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me?”
He pulls the hair on my leg.
