Nina Ch. 03

Author's note: This kept getting longer and longer as the story took turns I didn't anticipate. There's no sex for a long time, and there is much emotional turbulence and development. More buildup, followed by rewards.

BEN

Ben awoke as hot bars of sunlight crawled across his face through the blinds.

Sometime in the night, Nina had nestled near him, curled on her side in the fetal position with her forehead pressing up against his shoulder and a few light fingers resting over his upper arm. He didn't need to be clairvoyant to know what would happen next: she would wake, discover their physical nearness, withdraw... She'll probably apologize, too, he thought wryly, remembering her many apologies, even when there was nothing to apologize for.

He lay there wondering if someone had hurt her, or if it had happened over time, many someones, many small instances, many little cuts to make her feel so whittled down. So cautious and reluctant.

For a moment his chest ached for her and he wanted to hold her close, but her admission and openness from the previous night was far away. Today would be tough, getting in the weeds.

She believed everything was her fault—and that had been his way in. Fine, Nina, he thought. You don't believe I can want you, but you believe I can want to punish you for your perceived misbehavior; and in the midst of that, you can feel free of your mental constraints, because you're no longer in charge. Is that it?

The problem was that her perceived misbehavior was her desire. And that couldn't go on. He understood what it was like to feel ashamed of one's desire, like it was wrong. Like one should shut it down. She could only live it and express it, then, with pressure from Ben. While he had felt drawn to Nina, happy to play his role, certainly enjoying the rewards, it was only a beginning. He knew that now.

The question in his mind was how to nudge this ship around. Would she want that? Would she hide?

He couldn't free her of self-doubt; only Nina could do that. He forced himself to consider that Nina might not want to go that far. Keeping herself walled up, repressed, maybe it had kept her safe. Even if it was lonely. But he'd seen how she had responded-every little movement, every sound, every inch she'd given him-and he knew there was a good chance she would want more. Inch by inch.

Ben reminded himself that he had established his investment, his interest, his willingness to drive and push. It was worth it; she was worth it. She wanted to please him and he was showing her she could. She did.

It's about buy-in, he thought slowly. He rolled his eyes at the buzzword.

She had made a significant admission. Wrapped up in her towel, she had stopped him in the hall, had noticed the space he was giving her and commented on it. And she'd made a point of telling him she was uncomfortable and that she 'didn't mind' feeling that way with him. She didn't like the void, so she had taking a small step to fill it.

That had been one bare sliver of an invitation, among so many others. And that's how we'll do it, he thought. Help her get comfortable with inviting me, trust that I want her to invite me. Only after that can we go further.

Space. Just the right amount, or she'll think—she'll think I've given up, or I'm tired of her, or some other notion she can blame herself for, thought Ben.

That's important, too, he realized. She hurts herself and I want to take over, bring her back. I have to let her take baby steps herself. And watch her like a hawk because she's so damned quiet. We need to address that. She's ready.

Ben was thinking he knew just where to begin when he felt Nina stir.

NINA

Nina began to stretch when she felt her body contact something warm and solid. It took a few seconds before she recalled where she was—and with whom. Uncertain if he was awake or asleep, she gingerly pulled her head back so it no longer pressed against Ben. Her hand was already moving in a stretch; she continued the motion and simply tucked it in front of her.

"Good morning." Ben sounded awake and alert.

"Oh—sorry." Nina pulled back further.

"It's all right. You didn't wake me."

"No, I mean..." Nina flapped her hand but let the sentence die. She was sorry for having invaded Ben's space. In the back of her mind, she knew it would sound silly. He would say something like, 'Don't be,' or perhaps, 'Invading space? What do you think last night was?'

Last night. Nina remembered the heavenly invasion. Under the bright, pure sunlight of morning, she couldn't help but feel like a thin candle flame, weak with shame. What was Ben thinking now? He probably hoped she would get up and move along.

No. That's not fair, Nina told herself sternly. Ben was interested in engaging with her, or in seeing some part of her. But he wouldn't be for long, not when he realized she wasn't what he wanted.

You barely know what he wants, said a little voice in the back of Nina's mind.

It was silent in the room but a cacophony of indecision in her mind. She decided the least she could do was wait and see where Ben tried to lead. Following his lead would be another thing entirely. That wasn't her. She was too difficult. Too much trouble. Too much to bother with...

But Ben had bothered with her.

Maybe she could do it. Just one step at a time. If he really wanted.

If he really wanted. Just the thought of him wanting her—wanting her to do something, wanting something from her, wanting to touch her—god, the thought of his intense desire—Nina felt a heat spread from the skin across her belly down to between her legs. The secret, delicious idea that he could want, and she could please him, pleasure him, made her pussy swell and tingle. Afraid he might feel the warmth that Nina was sure must be coming off her body, she inched away.

As though he could read her mind, he turned to look at her, catching her off guard. The sun between the blinds played on his golden hair and divided his face into strips of light and shadow. He squinted against the glare, his pupils tiny and his irises more brilliant that Nina had seen them. For a breathtaking moment Nina could look at him all she wanted, and he could not look back.

His magnificent eyes, she thought; his strong brow furrowed against the bright glare, his mouth set in a hard straight line, his jaw with its rough stubble-scraping against her body, against her nipples, between the soft wanting innocence of her thighs-the electric thoughts rippled through her mind.

In a moment it was over; he leaned out of the sun, asking casually, "Coffee sound good?"

Just like we're a regular couple, thought Nina. She almost laughed nervously, thinking of the ridiculousness of it.

An hour and a half later, they had finished a quiet breakfast and sipped on the remnants of a twelve-cup pot of coffee they'd managed to demolish. Nina had become increasingly restless, playing over and over again the way Ben had touched her last night, looking at him while trying not to look, not quite being able to believe it had really happened. Wondering if it would happen again.

Desperate for him to say something.

Perhaps she could ask him to—No. She quashed the thought. There really was no way. The only chance was to wait for him.

Inwardly, she sighed. Why, why was she so stuck? What on Earth did Ben see in her? How could he possibly be interested in someone with so little personality, so little spine... She ground her teeth against the familiar spiral of her spiteful thoughts.

The least I can do is thank him somehow, thought Nina glumly. Her next thought was how strange it was to want to thank a man for spanking her—and everything else that had happened. What is it with me and self-reflection today? she wondered, giving herself a shake. I'll thank him. It will be awkward, but I'll feel better about it. I can borrow that casual tone he's been using all morning.

She ran her index finger around the rim of her coffee cup, floating a glance at Ben every now and again. He was looking at his phone and didn't seem to be paying attention, but eventually, he said without looking up:

"Something on your mind?"

"Um, yeah," Nina began. He raised his head and she turned hers away, needing to look anywhere else during this embarrassing moment. "It's about last night. I... I just... wanted to say, um, thanks. Thank you." Resisting the urge to tack a 'sorry' onto the end of her sentence, she shrugged apologetically, and then nodded to emphasize how chill and fine and smooth she was. Oh, that was stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. I'm tying myself up in knots to keep from coming unravelled.

Ben said nothing.

Feeling hot from being watched, Nina stood abruptly from the table, coffee cup in hand, and offered to take Ben's to the sink too. He nodded, still watching her contemplatively and saying nothing.

The coffee cups were in the dishwasher now and still he said nothing. Nina dried her hands on a towel and glanced at him, meeting his eyes briefly. Still nothing.

There had to be something. Nina felt powerfully that she didn't want that to be all.

She slowly walked back to the table. Ben had pushed his chair back a little and sat so he was angled to face her more directly, his elbows propped on the arms of the chair and fingers steepled in front of his mouth as he watched her intently.

What are you going to do for me? his look seemed to say.

Deliberately, Nina pulled her chair back and turned it so it faced Ben. She cursed the fear that kept her face a tight mask of indifference as she perched on the edge. For some reason, she was struck with the urge to kneel on the floor, to look up at him, but since she was here in the chair it felt right enough to keep her hands in her lap, her ankles crossed beneath her.

It was as though a space had opened between them—a space for her. She held his eyes for what felt like an eternity but was probably five seconds before lowering them, resolving to wait for however long he decided to take to respond.

BEN

Well, her statement of thanks had certainly thrown him. He had been so taken aback that he couldn't think what to say. 'You're welcome' hardly seemed appropriate—Nina had given him incredible pleasure—but to say 'Thanks, you too' or 'No problem' was out of the question.

And then the moment that set a balloon of hope swelling in his chest: Nina, sitting with careful posture, facing him, looking him in his goddamn eyes.

Nina presenting herself.

Yes, he thought fiercely. Very good. If she had been a submissive woman with confidence and prepared to take his commands, he would have had her kneeling for him in an instant. He dragged his thoughts away. They weren't there yet.

He spent only a moment to revel in their achievement with her before pressing onward. He took his time looking at Nina, as obviously as he could. It wasn't hard to do; she was radiant in the glow of morning and already beginning to flush from his open stare.

"Nina," he began at last, keeping his voice calm and level, "we need to have a conversation about what we're doing."

That did it. He knew it was going to happen but was still regretful when her body language shifted, turning inward, protective.

"Okay."

"Okay." He paused to let his echo hang, reassuring and firm. "You already know every relationship has different dynamics." He didn't know how much she thought about it, but he wanted to help her normalize a range of dynamics, to feel okay that she liked certain dynamics—or to help her feel emboldened to express if she wanted something different. "There are certain things about how we relate to each other that need to be discussed before going any further, or going on any longer."

Ben stopped. Nina was looking more and more like a fortress, shoulders hunched and arms clasping the opposite elbow, her eyes looking at he knees.

This wasn't surprising, and he had planned for it. Luckily, he had spent the morning thinking outside the box; and luckily, he'd brought the right equipment with him.

"Nina," he said. She stilled herself, listening. "I'm going to my bedroom. If you're interested in having this conversation with me, please join me. If this is not a conversation you want to have," he continued gently, "I won't bring it up again, but the door will be open if you wish to discuss it another time." He had thought about giving her an ultimatum but decided he couldn't. There were some fragile things about her that he wanted to grow, not break. Besides, he felt reasonably sure she would follow him.

Ben didn't touch her as he passed and made his way down the hall to where their rooms faced each other, turning left to enter his.

He shook his head thinking about their peculiar dynamics. This was admittedly unfamiliar territory in some ways. But it wasn't such a stretch: here he was, laying the groundwork, opening the door. Offering. He knew Nina would never believe in his interest had he not used what he knew about her and pressed his way forward in the beginning.

In the corner was a bag he'd brought in from his car earlier that morning. He was laying things out when he felt a change in the air as his door swung open behind him.

NINA

She wanted to ask, What're those for? But she wasn't stupid. Four ropes, one tied to each knob at the corners of the bed. She rubbed her wrist absently. When she was sure she could handle it, she looked from the bed to Ben.

"Is that setup for me?" she asked fliply.

God, was her heart pounding. But he didn't need to know that. This was ridiculous. There was no way she could imagine herself—like that.

Tied up, she forced herself to think. The words won't hurt me. Tied. Up.

Yeah, right.

"It is," Ben responded evenly. His voice sent a shiver through her, which she did her best to ignore.

She scoffed—but she went to stand by the bed. Ben was still working on a knot at one corner.

A sudden panic washed over Nina, and she had the urge to flee.

No need, she told herself. I'm just standing here.

The urge to flee insisted on coming out through her voice instead. "So, like, do you want me to tie myself up or what?" The words were brittle and nervous and sharp in her mouth, and so sassy! A sassy of the desperate, last-resort variety. Flipping the bird as she stood on the ledge.

This time Ben responded immediately, and his tone was equally sharp:

"Since you ask, I want you to get in the bed, lie down in the middle, and wait."

He didn't have to add "quietly." Nina was quiet.

She was also slow, but eventually she was lying down. So what if her ankles were crossed and her arms were folded over her chest? It was like being at the doctor's office, she thought, feeling silly. Next he'll come over and probe me with a cold stethoscope or look in my ears. Maybe I'll get a PAP smear. Ha.

Ben had come to stand at the side of the bed, an evaluating, masculine presence she couldn't ignore. He waited until she was looking at him—somewhere around his chin was all she could muster—and spoke.

"You can get up and leave at any time, Nina." He paused as if to let the words sink in. "I will tie loose loops so your hands and feet come free if you need them to. You can tell me to stop or untie you, or leave the room at any point. Your words are meaningful. You haven't told me to stop before"—Nina squirmed—"so I assume you know, on some level, that I will stop if you do. But just in case, I want it to be clear."

Nina drew in a quick breath but waited, which seemed to make Ben happy.

"What's on your mind?" he said amiably.

"I just—I wanted—I knew. I do know." She added softly, "That you'll stop if I... ask."

"If you tell me," he corrected her. When he went on, his voice was a little firmer. "I also want it to be clear between us that you are here because you want to be here."

At these last words, Nina couldn't help but wince.

"I know it's hard for you to say it, but I need you to answer me: do you want to be here, Nina?"

She felt so, so squirmy. He didn't tell her not to fidget. His silence was patient and complete.

"Yes," she said eventually, looking at the ceiling with her head turned away from him.

"Good. I want you to be here."

Now she felt squirmy for an entirely different reason. His voice reached a depth in her she usually tried not to think about.

"Do you want me to tie you down?"

She couldn't picture it. She could not see it, her wrists, her ankles, tied to his bed—even in loose ropes. God, could she? Some low region in her fluttered in response.

This time, her answer came out in the barest whisper. "Yes." She wished she could bury her face in the pillow. It would be better if Ben were fucking me, she thought, better if he would just take charge and do it and not make me say—not make me admit—

She sucked her teeth. Ben was waiting for her, again. Angrily she pulled her gaze back to him.

"Why don't you choose which one we do first?" He gestured at her limbs.

Agony. He's rubbing it in, she thought, with his talk of 'we.' I can't be doing this. It isn't me.

She wanted him to laugh and punch her on the arm and tell her he was just joking, wasn't she a good sport, a good pal.

She wanted him to hurry up and tie her tight so she could struggle and not get away.

"While you think about it, I need one more thing..." He sauntered to something Nina couldn't see and rummaged—in a bag, she realized—returning with a pair of scissors, which he placed on the bedside table.

"We won't need these today—you'll practically be holding onto my ropes—but now and in the future, there will always be a way for me to release you safely and quickly."

A laugh started to bubble up, but Nina held it, her stomach flip-flopping. Now, and in the future? she thought.

He really meant it. She uncrossed her ankles as a show of goodwill.

She bit her lip, using the sting of it to distract herself from her next move. Without looking at Ben, she unpeeled her arms from across her chest and tried to lay them loosely by her sides.

"That's very good," said Ben. Nina flushed, secretly pleased but still ashamed of her cooperation. "Show me where we'll start."

She nudged her left ankle away from her other leg. He paused for a beat, picked up her ankle and slid it through a loop he had pre-tied. It was so loose that all she would need to do to be free would be to draw her knee up to the ceiling and maybe wiggle her leg.

"What's next? The other?" Ben had taken on a conversational tone. What was that about? wondered Nina.

But his relaxed, confident attitude—as though this were the most natural thing in the world—gave her a nugget of normalcy to hold onto.

It was a good thing, too, because she lost all sense of normalcy when he came for her hands. He paused and pulled back, seeing her flinch.

"I know, I know," Nina muttered, her voice tense. "I just need a second."

"Take your time. Put your hand through when you're ready." Ben held another loop.

Nina took a deep breath and closed her eyes. There was no way she was seeing him witness her like this. She blindly put her hand through the rope.

"You want to pull it back out a couple times, see how easy it is?" asked Ben. His sincerity melted her shield of humor. All of a sudden it was real.

"No. It's okay," she said. I trust you, she thought. When he laid her hand in its loop onto the bed, he did it tenderly. She didn't hesitate when he held the rope out for her other hand.

After he set down her other hand, the atmosphere shifted again. She knew she wasn't helpless—these ropes might as well have been untied—but she had let him put ropes around her and position her spread-eagle on his bed. She had helped him, for god's sake. That was what made her so uneasy.

At the same time, she thought, there's something about this he likes, that turns him on...

The thought of Ben turned on as she lay there spread before him sent a sudden pulse of anticipation through her. Her clitoris throbbed on its own, and she couldn't help but clench her legs in response. As he stood over her, looking at her body, she licked her lips.