Page 40 of Into the Blue
“For what? If I didn’t satisfy you, then we can talk about it, right?”
“You did satisfy me.” I’m not lying. It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. With anyone. But there’s this need in me, this feeling that I need to have more, to show more, to show him my appreciation. Shame slides over me. “I’m sorry if I made you think you didn’t.”
He kisses my hands, each one in turn, taking my fingers into his mouth and gently sucking on them, until I finally look at him. His storm-grey eyes are soft, dark. “What’s going on?”
Oh god. My shame deepens. I’m so messed up. Awareness of just how much washes over me, hot and terrible. “I…” My voice catches in my throat and, to my horror, tears come to my eyes. Great. I’m sure that’s what he wants. A crying woman in his bed after the first time he’s had sex with her. Bet that will make him feel fantastic.
“I’m really sorry.” I clear my throat. “It’s just… you were so great, and I only came once, and I didn’t want you to think, to feel like I didn’t appreciate what you?—”
“What the hell?” He doesn’t sound angry, just confused. “This has nothing to do with my feelings, Jade. And by the way,”—his hand slides over my stomach, smoothing my skin—“I feel fucking amazing.” He drops a soft kiss on my lips. “I thought you enjoyed it as well.”
“I did.” I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, or do. But something is like a bubble in my chest, making it hard to draw breath. Then it bursts. And everything comes out of me. “My boyfriend, my ex… He wasn’t happy unless I came multiple times. He was always bringing other people into bed with us, and would make out like he was doing it for me, like he wanted me to have more pleasure. Like it was a favour.” Bitterness sits in my chest, salt-sharp. “But it wasn’t?—”
“What you wanted?” Axel finishes my sentence.
I shake my head. A tear slides down my cheek. Axel smooths it away with his thumb, so gentle.
“So I would make myself… like I would just make myself come while he was with… and it felt so wrong. It’s not what I like… I don’t want to share. Or be shared.” The last words come out on a sob. I feel like such an idiot. For not realising how messed up things were between me and Zach, for letting him dictate my pleasure so I was almost performing on command, like some sort of seal. Each orgasm I had made him more excited, and if it was while some girl was going down on me while he watched, then even better. But those short sharp bursts of pleasure were nothing compared to what I’ve just experienced with Axel. With him I feel like I’m floating, carried on an ocean of pleasure with endless waves. It’s an entirely different experience. But as I stare at him, sorrow welling in my chest, I can’t find the words.
“I don’t like sharing, either.” His hands cradle me, strong and sure as oak. “And I cannot imagine any man having you in his bed and not thinking you’re enough.” His voice roughens, getting deeper, and he kisses me again, this time swiping his tongue into my mouth.
I meet the kiss, ride the sweetness of it, the feel of his body against mine. It’s so different from being with Zach. There are no cameras, no extra players, no lights turned towards the bed like we’re putting on a show. Instead, silvery moonlight is the only illumination, the only sounds our breathing and the rush of the ocean outside.
He pulls back from me, stroking my hair. “So, what do you want?” He waits, one corner of his mouth slightly curved.
“Want?”
“Here. Now. What turns you on?”
I draw in a shuddering breath. “Uh, you?”
The curve deepens. “Well, that’s a good start. But what do you want me to do to you? Or, what would you like to do to me?”
I stare at him, non-plussed. I don’t know if anyone has ever asked me this before. I can’t remember it, anyway. I’ve always been so focused on how the other person was feeling, their pleasure, to really explore my own. My orgasms with Zach were for him as much as they were for me, a physical response to his own desires. Axel’s cock is stiffening against my leg, and my immediate thought is that I need to get into position, to let him have his way with me.
But I stop. That’s the old way of thinking. I swallow, considering. What do I want?
“When you get yourself off, what do you think about? And I don’t mean when you were in bed with Zach. When you’re alone. What makes you come?”
“Uh.” My throat feels tight. I remember someone telling me once, some healer I went to on one of my surf trips, that when we’re stopped from communicating what we really want, our throat chakra is impacted. I didn’t take her seriously at the time, but now I feel like mine is strangling me. Yet Axel waits patiently, not touching me in any way apart from holding me close, despite how hard he is again.
“Do you trust me, Jade?”
“Yes.” I do, I realise. And that’s scary in itself. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to trust someone, romantically at least. Zach broke my trust so many times I thought it irretrievably gone, that I’d never be able to trust a lover again. But I trust Axel. It comes from somewhere deep inside me, a feeling like surrender.
And with that thought a rush of warmth comes over me, a pulse starting to beat between my legs. “Surrender,” I breathe.
“Surrender? In what way?” His hands move slightly, sliding down my hips.
“Being with someone, trusting them enough to let go. Knowing that they have me. That I’m safe.”
This doesn’t sound sexy at all. But I don’t know what else to say. I’m in control of so much of my life, have worked so hard, so constantly, to get where I am. And I’m exhausted. I just want someone to hold me, someone to share my life with, to be able to let go without reservation. I think of the temple, the way the water ran from shrine to fishpond to bath to river, free to flow. I want that, too.
“You are safe.” Axel kisses the tip of my nose. “And you can let go, with me. So why are you still holding back?”
“I just…” I frown, trying to figure out what I need. “When I was with… him, it felt like a performance, you know? Even when it was just the two of us. Like I had to appreciate the show. He would send me constant dick pics, would take photos of us, was always trying to get me to make a sex tape. God knows, he probably made one without me asking. I don’t know. He’s not a bad guy– I wouldn’t have spent so long with him if he was– but he was, it was?—”
“You just weren’t compatible in that way. I get it.”
