An Unexpected Submissive 06

His fingers wandered across the table from time to time, brushing across the back of my hand or the inside of my wrist. Light touches that grounded me, that held me with him in the moment and stopped me from wandering back into sorrow.

He talked and touched until the restaurant closed, continuing as he drove us back to the hotel. It was only as we entered the lobby that the stream of words he'd used to hold my soul together finally tapered off.

Neither of us spoke as we entered our room. Waves of emotions were once again pulling me into myself. He knew that, and silently respected it. I removed my jacket and tie, laying them over an armchair. On the other side of the room, his actions mirrored mine. Our eyes met as my fingers started their work on the buttons of my shirt. I wanted him. I needed him. Needed to remember that life still held joy and connection and all the things that the day hadn't been. All of the things that he was for me.

His eyes grew bright and hungry as I stripped slowly. Deliberately. Completely. I couldn't count the number of times I'd undressed for him. Stripping was nothing to me. Nakedness was nothing to me. I'd stood naked in the middle of a crowd without thought dozens of times. I couldn't count the number of times my body had pressed against his, my skin sliding against him, teasing him, driving him. Driving myself. This was different. The way he watched me was different. The way I felt under his gaze was different. This was more.

He watched, motionless as I crossed the room, my fingers coming to rest on the buttons of his shirt. His blue eyes searching my face as I slipped the soft fabric from his shoulders and dropped to my knees before him to slide his pants to the floor. I rose up, the heat from his body searing my skin even through the inch of space I kept between us. My eyes closed as his fingertips reached out to trace my cheek bone, my jaw, along the front of my throat. My body melted into his touch, needing him. Only him.

His breath was closer; smooth firm lips against mine, exploring gently. The tip of his tongue begged entrance I gladly granted as the air swirled warm and heavy around us. I couldn't count the number of times my lips had found his, but this was different. This was more.

He responded to my touch the way he always had, without hesitation. The lightest brush of my fingertips across his hips drew him toward me as I walked back, falling onto the bed, pulling him down with me. Over me. I wanted to feel nothing but him. Needed his body and his soul to hold the world at bay. My hands wandered his back tenderly. My fingertips exploring his skin in a way I'd rarely allowed them. Lingering, reveling, as I crank in the sensations of his breath mingling with mine, his scent, his strength.

As his fingers curled in my hair, pulling my head back to expose more of my throat to his lips, his tongue, the sharp scrape of his teeth, my knees hooked instinctively around his hips. I was lost in him, panting and arching up, our hard lengths crushed together between our bellies. Hot silken skin sliding as we rocked together.

I refused to let my need drive me. I knew this was the only time I'd get to feel him this way, yet it wasn't until I felt the waves of pleasure threaten to undo me that I pulled back, stilling the movement of his hips with my thighs. My hand slid along his ribs, slipping between our bellies, my fingertips brushing along his length as his hips rose to allow me access. He was slick now, wet with the passion that had leaked from us both. I wrapped my hand tightly around him, drawing a shaky moan from his throat as his forehead dropped to the bend of my neck.

I shifted slightly, guiding him down to press his swollen head against my opening.

His head shot up, icy blue eyes searching mine in confusion. I leaned up to flick the tip of my tongue across his bottom lip as my hand tightened around him.

"Please." My desperate whisper nearly begged.

His nod was nearly imperceptible as his mouth found mine once more.

Although it was only for a moment, I whimpered in loss as he shifted away to retrieve the lube before slipping back between my legs. His fingers opened me with strong, gentle movements. They were knowledgeable but unskilled and I briefly wondered how many times he'd done this. Surely, I wasn't his first.

As his body drifted back over mine, the soft pressure of his slick head against me paused, waiting. I wrapped my arms tightly around his ribs, fingertips digging into his shoulders, pulling against him until I felt my nails scraping his skin. Pulling him until he pressed forward.

My head fell back with a soundless cry as my body responded to his intrusion with pleasure and pain so intense they threatened to consume me. My calf tightened against his hip, pulling him closer still as he sank deep, filling me completely. The world was lost to me by the time his hips settled against my skin.

He pulled back slowly, slipping from me completely before thrusting back in with deep smooth strokes. I clutched at his back, curling my body around his, burying my face in his shoulder. He was everything. He rode me with slow, deliberate care. Each movement driving me higher. Closer to him, further from the rest of existence. I forced one hand away from his shoulder to slip it down between us, ignoring my leaking cock to press my fingers against my belly, feeling the pressure of him moving inside me against my hand.

He shuddered in pleasure, and I pressed my palm harder against my skin, pinning him tighter inside of me. I disappeared into the sensations of his length within me, the strength of his body around me, his moans against my jaw, his breath caressing my neck.

For so long he'd cum only when I allowed it, that the moment I heard myself cry out as the flood of pleasure that rose with my release overwhelmed me, I felt his cry against my shoulder and a rush of heat deep inside my body. He'd held on to follow me into oblivion.

The last remnants of daylight had faded while we were lost in one another, and our breath slowing together was the only thing that existed in the dark. I grasped at the sound. At the scent of his sweat and the warmth of his skin against my own. The sensation of his release dripping down my leg toward the bed, and my own painted across my stomach between us forced an exhausted shiver from my spent soul.

I held him until his breath was quiet and regular before I carefully reached down to pull up the sheets.

I fought the darkness of sleep. Preferring instead to live in the illusion of the moment for as long as I could. It was not my right to love him. He was not mine, and ours was not a contract between lovers. The boundaries of our intimate universe did not contract and expand based on words tenderly whispered in the dark; did not shift as our love changed and developed. While our relationship was sensual, and comfortable, and companionable, our contract was that of a professional and his student. It was my place to show him the delights my world could hold and to warn him of its downfalls. It was my pleasure to watch him find his boundaries, to discover his ecstasy, to learn who he was and what he wanted. It was my responsibility to give him safety, and consistency, and professionalism.

I had crossed a line. As I lay in the dark letting the peaceful rise and fall of his breath hold me in the stillness of the night while my fingertips wove through the blond waves that rest on my chest I fought desperately; attempting to conjure up a scenario in which it was acceptable for a teacher to fall in love with his student. I could not. Because it was not. So I held him in the dark. I made this moment my universe. In the midst of my grief, I tucked it away, even though I knew that once he was gone it would only serve to highlight what I'd lost.

It was after ten by the time I woke. Sunlight filtering in through the half-opened drapes landed across his back as he lay tangled in the sheets as he always did when we spent nights together. I slipped from the bed to shower, taking my time under the hot spray, half lost in the memories of the previous evening, half avoiding the fact that I'd soon have to wake him.

He slept soundly as I dressed, and though I lingered as I pulled on my clothes, dwelling in this moment in which he felt like mine, eventually there was nothing else I could use to postpone the inevitable. I crouched beside the bed and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"Alexander."

"Hmmm"

"Checkout is in half an hour. Why don't you go shower while I finish packing and go get us something to eat on the drive."

I removed my hand from his skin quickly as he rolled over.

"Of course. Sorry I slept so late."

"It's just fine." I stepped away to finish packing our things, giving him space as he rolled out of bed.

When I returned with coffee and pastries, he was waiting by the door with our luggage. He said little as we loaded the car and during the entirety of the drive. When he did speak, he called me Sir. I'd selfishly expected our interlude to end only after we'd returned home.

As we removed our cases from the trunk, I informed him that I was needed at the club that night as a few issues had arisen in my absence, but that I'd see him at breakfast the next morning. An abrupt nod with a mumbled, "Yes Sir." was the only response my announcement received.

I felt myself shift as I pulled on my tight leathers, hardening myself against the emotional turmoil that had rolled through me over the last few days. The suit I had worn yesterday had rendered me defenseless and I felt as if I'd gone to battle without my armor. My leathers were a part of me; an extension of my skin, of my soul. I was protected. They held back the flood of pain and loss that threatened to undo me. I was grateful for that.

I smiled that night at the club. I laughed with clients when I was expected to laugh. Spoke when I was expected to speak. Commanded when I was expected to command. My body did what I had trained it to do for so many years; exactly what I told it to. And when the club closed, and I had nowhere else to hide I returned home and locked the door to my bedroom behind me before curling up alone.

I kept my distance for a few days upon our return, using my absence from the club during the past week as an excuse. Our meals passed they always had. I smiled and laughed there as well, telling myself that the tension I felt between us was only my imagination. Once again, I didn't believe my lies. We were clearly not ok, and there was only one thing left to try that might salvage our former relationship for the remaining three weeks of his contract. Three weeks. He'd be gone in three weeks. The mere thought pulled the breath from my lungs.

I stepped into the dining room where he was waiting for me to join him for dinner. I held my voice steady; harsh and professional. "Come with me."

"Yes Sir." He followed without hesitation, as he always had. I led him to the playroom, stripped him quickly, and cuffed him to the poles without a word.

He was already hard as I picked up a whip and circled him silently, my fingertips trailing along his skin. Skin that felt different to me now. It was no longer the skin of my contracted sub, it was the skin of a lover. Skin that had held me, supported me. Skin I had tasted and bitten and reddened with my demands yes, but skin I now longed for. Skin I wanted touch as I read and slept and worked. I wanted both. I wanted everything. I wanted him.

I brought my whip down aggressively across his ass, drawing a moan that resonated through the soundless room. I struck again, higher. Again. I worked my way along that skin, watching it redden under my touch.

When no more of that skin was left unmarked, I dropped to my knees and slipped his favorite vibrator into his ass without pause. The cry that rose from deep in his chest forced goosebumps across my chest and arms. His ass had been vacant for more than a week and I'd thrust hard and without hesitation, knowing it would bring him both pleasure and pain. I gave him exactly what he liked.

I stood and brought my whip across his skin once more. His ass. His back. Again and again, drawing moans and cries and whimpers. Red stripes crossing over one another, marring his perfect tan flesh.

"Have you had enough?"

"No Sir." His voice was coarse and tight.

"You want more?"

"Yes Gre...Sir."

I circled him quickly. His head was dropped, eyes hiding from mine.

I lifted his chin gently with the butt of the whip and raised an eyebrow in question.

"I'm sorry Sir." He cringed.

I let his head drop and stepped back, making a show of dragging the thin strands of the leather flogger through my fingers as I fought to reign in my emotions. This is what I wanted. What I'd always wanted. Someone who was submissive yes, but someone who was more than that. Someone who found pleasure in the ways I offered them pain. Someone who offered me control not because they knew what was allowed by contract, but because they trusted me completely. Someone who could come from my whip or from my words and then let me hold them close and whisper to them of my love afterward. I wanted this. I wanted him.

I stepped closer and drew my whip hard down across his belly. "Five."

Harder. "Four."

Gently enough to barely sting across his swollen and leaking cock. "Three."

His whimpering was continuous as he fought to hold back.

I dropped my whip and fell to my knees in front of him, sinking my teeth into his slick length before whispering against the silken flesh. "Two."

Without pause I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth and sliding him completely down my throat. He cried out and his body shook as he fought to hold his release.

I tapped my hands once on the back of his thighs, indicating the end of my countdown.

It was my name that he cried out as heat rushed into my throat.

I milked him tenderly until he softened, letting my fingertips lightly trail through the pale hair on the back of his calves and thighs. My closed eyes heightening my other senses as I savored the taste of him in my mouth and the warmth of his skin against mine. It seemed that even my whip couldn't undo the damage I'd done to our contracted relationship, and I knew this would be the last time I'd taste him. Anything other than terminating his contract early would be unprofessional of me. Even more unprofessional than I'd already been.

I took my time as I cared for his reddened skin with cool towels and salve as I always did, cleaning him gently and completely. His eyes followed me as I stood, leaving him lying on his back on the floor.

I forced a kind smile, desperately hoping it would hide the way I was breaking. "I'm sorry I pulled us away from dinner."

His smile was broad and all encompassing. It was light in the dark and I knew I'd be lost without it. "I'm not Sir."

"I have some things I need to take care of at the club and I'm afraid I'll be unable to spend time with you this evening." Lies

His expression dropped as I continued.

"Will you be ok if I skip aftercare this time?"

He nodded, his smile now as faded and forced as mine felt. "Of course, Sir."

I knelt quickly and brushed my lips across his. I couldn't help myself.

"Rest as long as you need Beautiful. I'll have Jake reheat dinner for you."

"Thank you, Sir."

I forced another smile as I traced my fingertips along his jaw before I stood once more and left him lying in the center of the room.

I felt nothing as I packed my bag and made my way to my office, speaking briefly with Jake briefly before shutting the door and taking out a sheet of paper. I stared at it until night fall before words allowed themselves to fall onto the page.

____

I owe you an apology. In truth, I owe you many apologies. I apologize for cutting our contract short as I have never before done such a thing. I apologize for my lack of professionalism in allowing us to step outside of the boundaries so clearly laid out in our contract. I apologize for taking advantage of our friendship. I apologize for the fact I find myself wanting to keep you even though my training is expressly meant to prepare you to find and enjoy the company of an appropriate long-term partner. I apologize for wanting more. I've fallen in love with you. I know I should apologize for that too, but I can't bring myself to do so.

I'll be away for several days. While I offered no details of course, I have informed Jake that I crossed an inappropriate boundary during our time away and he will ensure that your move back home is completed quickly and professionally in my absence.

I'm afraid I don't know how to end this letter although I've been staring at this page for several hours other than to thank you for all you have offered me, for all you've taught me, and for all the ways you've unknowingly changed me.

Yours,

Grey

____

I sealed the envelope and met Jake in the hall.

"Take care of him please." I whispered quietly as I adjusted the bag over my shoulder and handed him the letter to deliver.

Jake simply nodded. "Of course, Sir. Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you?"

I let my hand clap his shoulder as I offered him a pained smile "There is nothing any one can do for me right now Jake but thank you."

The next four days were a blur. I checked into a hotel and made it to the room before I broke down. I spent my time drinking, crying, and trying to forget that Alexander had ever existed. When I woke on day five with the painful realization that it wouldn't happen no matter how much I drank or cried, I dragged myself to the shower, dressed in a daze, and made my way to my car.

It was quiet as I walked through the foyer. Jake's text two days ago had let me know everything was settled with Alexander and when I'd pulled myself together briefly enough to respond I'd given him several days off. The house was empty. I was empty.

I dropped my bag at the entrance to the dining room and trailed my fingertips along the table's edge as I walked toward my office. The moment I entered, my gaze was drawn to the small table between the wingback chairs. Alone on the dark polished surface sat his leather cuffs.

I made my way over without thought, sinking into a chair as I picked up the smooth leather, running it between my fingers. The leather was softer than when I'd first placed them on his wrists; transformed from months of wear. The time they had spent against his skin, covered with sweat, straining as he tensed and pulled had softened them. He'd done the same thing to me. The tears I'd fought so hard to reign in fell once more as I sank into my grief. In the span of two weeks, I'd lost everything. Everyone that mattered.

"Those were given only for the duration of my contract, yes?" His voice was smooth and steady.

I pulled myself together quickly. Jake had assured me everything was taken care of, and I'd thought myself to be alone. Truly alone. It wouldn't do for him to see me crying like a child.

I was surprised at how stable my voice sounded as I fought for self-control. "They were."

He walked slowly toward me, and it took all the strength I had not to ask him why he was still here and beg him to stay.

He fell to his knees in front of me and offered his wrists. His silver blue eyes held mine without wavering. "And if I were yours? No time limits, no restrictions, just yours? What if I loved you in return?"

I heard a soft whimper escape my lips before I could stop it and the corner of his mouth twitched toward a smile.

I stiffened my back, sitting taller as I unwound the cuffs from one another.

My gaze never left his as I allowed my fingers to linger on the skin of his wrists while I clipped them on and rose to stand before him.

"Come with me."