The Right One

"Because, little one, you were very close to cumming without permission." He inserts two fingers without warning and a retort dies in my throat. "That would not be a good thing, trust me."

"You're being mean." I ache against the intrusion, knowing that I cannot deny what his touch and his words are doing to me.

I can't make sense of any of it. I want so badly to cum against his tongue. I want to fill his mouth with my juices. Having him tease me relentlessly just when I think I'm getting the hang of things, does something else to my psyche. Yes, I am utterly heartbroken knowing that I will not cum unless he wants me to, but the rush of being under his control is much more appealing to me at this moment. I want to please him. I want to show him that I'm a good girl that deserves to cum under him.

I continue to cry bitter tears, while my body remains in a whirlwind of lust. It is all so confusing and incredibly heady.

"I warned you about my sadistic side." He leans up and brushes the tears from my eyes with his free hand.

His fingers curl up at just the right angle in my pussy and I have the sudden urge to pull away again. He is an expert with his fingers, rubbing his palm against my clit.

"What happens if I cum?" I reach up, over my head, and clasp my hands together, mildly afraid that I'll push his hand away if he continues doing that.

"Would you like to find out?" He quickens his pace and my tears start to flow more freely. "Beautiful," He brushes them away, with the back of his fingers.

Fuck you! I want to yell. Let me cum, is also on the tip of my lips.

He removes his fingers and I sob out loud. I can't believe this is only within the first few minutes of us being intimate. I don't know how I'm expected to make it through the whole night. It is impossible. I simply cannot let him toy with my emotions this way. So, why am I leaning into his touch and kissing him back, with hunger that surprises both of us? Why do I whimper against his tongue as he flicks my nipples and tweaks them into small pebbles?

He goes back down between my legs and the moans do not stop coming from my lips. He flattens his tongue and moves the tip in and out of my hole. His nose parts my lips, causing a troubling amount of desire to seep from my pores. Holy shit, I can't hold it in. I can't see him between my legs, devouring every inch of my pussy without wanting to hump his face into oblivion.

"Cum, my beautiful girl." He lifts his lips just far enough to command me.

I don't wait a second longer.

My eyes roll back, my spine curves in a painful arch, thrusting my breasts in the air and my pussy further into his face. My legs shake, trying to close around his head but he pays them no mind. His tongue flutters against my clit with no issue. As if there is nothing that will get between him and my dripping pussy. My body shudders as I float through space and time, barely conscious of my screams at this point.

He kisses the inside of my thighs when I quiet down and then finally lays next to me, allowing me a moment to breathe. He brushes the hair stuck to my forehead and caresses my cheeks. His eyes are glued to my face with a serene look. His kisses taste tangy but I still want them. Every single one.

"How was that?" He cups my breast, rubbing his thumb against my nipple.

"I don't know if I can find the right words." I stare up at the ceiling, still out of breath.

"Try." He kisses me again.

"It was intense." I stare at him. "I wanted to defy you, I would have cum had you not stopped the first time. But," I shake my head. "There was a part of me that knew I wouldn't. I couldn't."

He continues to run his hand against my breasts.

"Nothing seemed more important to me than waiting for your permission." I slightly fret over the implications of my emotions.

"Is that so bad?"

I shrug. "I don't know. It is all so confusing."

"Would you like to stop?" He stops moving his hand.

I shake my head.

"Then do you promise to keep listening to that voice in your head that awaits my command?" He guides my jaw so that we are looking into each other's eyes.

"Yes, Sir." I nod.

"Okay." He stands and holds his hand out for me to follow.

I'm guided to my bathroom where he removes all of my clothes. He folds each piece and sets it on top of the sink counter. He starts going through each drawer and even the medicine cabinet like he's looking for something but also making note of what I have. He pulls out a small face towel and runs some warm water over it.

"Do you need to use the restroom?"

I can feel my eyes widen slightly but I shake my head.

There is no way I will use it in front of him. Or did he plan on leaving the room while I took care of business?

"I can leave if that makes you more comfortable." He motions to the door.

I shake my head. "I don't need to use the restroom, sir."

Once the towel is damp, he guides it to my sensitive center and cleans every crevice. Meanwhile, his other hand has gone back to my breasts. It is as if they're inseparable. Just when I think I'm going to have a small break of relentless lust, he reminds me that he is the one controlling that. Every squeeze, every flick, every rub elicits a sigh from my lips. The sensation almost overshadows his aftercare. Almost.

When he finishes, he loops his finger through the necklace, lightly tugging. I follow behind, remembering the fact that I was almost going to receive a collar as a gift. Probably for this very reason. My cheeks heat up from embarrassment but now that we're in the comfort of my home, after a truly amazing orgasm, I decide it is not as bad as I initially thought. Is this how it starts? Everything I think I won't do will just require time and more orgasms to come around to?

I stare down at his clothing, wishing that he could be naked too. Twice now I've been at a disadvantage. I want to see what he looks like underneath. I want to run my nose along his neck, down his stomach, and right to his impressive length. I can't do that if he stays in his clothes all day. Again, I had a misconception that as soon as we walked through my door we would be rolling around my apartment breaking things and having incredible sex. Is keeping me on my toes part of the thrill for him?

He takes me over to the couch and asks me to sit. I watch him as he saunters to his bag and digs through it. I want to peek over his shoulder and see what he could be hiding in there. I innocently imagined it was just his overnight clothing, maybe some toiletries. But now I can imagine some really kinky things. My thighs press together. Knowing Ethan, I am probably way off.

He turns back and I see a small Christmas tree in his hands. It is plastic, probably as big as his palm. Definitely not something I pictured him bringing out.

I chuckle under my breath.

"Am I amusing you, Leila?" He lifts an eyebrow.

"Out of all of the things I expected you to take out of your bag, that is not one of them."

He grins and sets the tree on my coffee table. "I had an inkling that you probably wouldn't have a Christmas tree."

"How could you possibly know that?" Am I that predictable?

He's taken aback by my defensiveness. "Care to rephrase that question?"

I lower my eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir. Thank you for the tree."

"You're welcome." He pats my head.

I look at him again.

"I figured you would keep a tree in your coat closet but I didn't see one last time. I actually didn't see any bin that would indicate you had holiday decorations sitting around." He looks around my living room but we both know there isn't anything hanging or hidden.

I stay silent. Not sure if he's asking for an explanation but also not wanting to give him one. He doesn't let me off so easily.

"Why is that? Do you usually spend the holidays with your family?"

"My parents are on a road trip and my friends are out of town." I shrug. "I don't really see the point of decorating just for myself."

"How is your relationship with your parents?" He sits back to get more comfortable.

I cross my arms over my stomach, suddenly feeling a little bit more vulnerable.

He reaches over and places my arms at my side.

"Our relationship is fine." There is a tightness in my voice. "How is your relationship with your parents?"

I see the frown of disapproval settle on his face. Whether it is because of the question itself or the tone of my voice, I can't tell.

"I love my parents." I think he's going to stop there but he continues. "My father wishes I would have stayed in the family business but we're on better terms now."

I mull over his words. "What does he do?"

"He was a lawyer, had his own firm and everything. Now my cousin has taken over."

That must have caused a big rift between them. I want to know more. I want to ask him more questions. This night has turned more into a date than the sexathon I pictured in my head. It is probably for the best.

"How about your mother?"

"She was a stay-at-home mom."

Hmm is that where the idea of a submissive stems from? It would be ridiculous. Stay-at-home mothers do twice the work and never get a break. They run the house as they would a ship and all hell would break loose if anything ever happened to them. I saw it when my mother took a few years off when I was younger. Even then I recognized the impact she had when she was around.

"Do you have any siblings?"

He shakes his head.

"Any kids?" That one should have been the first question I asked.

Again, he shakes his head. "Vera knew very early on she didn't want any."

"What about you?"

He pulls me to his lap. "Although I would want nothing more than to fill your tight cunt with my cum, I think we should put off talking about kids until at least our third date."

I sigh into his lips when he kisses me deeply.

"I've never had such an inquisitive little sub." He runs a finger through my lips.

"Are you annoyed?" I look for any sign of disapproval on his face.

He shakes his head. "Is that all the questions you had?"

"For now," I lean in to kiss him.

He digs his fingers in my hair and pulls gently enough to stop me from moving. "What did I say about asking for permission?"

I stare into his eyes but stay silent.

He lifts an eyebrow.

It is really unfair. I can't even kiss him when I want? I have to ask for permission. How can anyone manage to be in a relationship like that? To think of every action and wonder what will require permission. Even that is a little extreme compared to my ex. The more I think about it, the more upset I get.

"I need a moment." I pull my body back and run to hide in my room.

What am I doing? Why am I doing this to myself?

I run a hand against my forehead and pace across from my bed. It is one thing to be attracted to someone and try new things with them. It is quite another to second guess every move or every intention in the privacy of my own home. It wasn't like he reprimanded me for behaving poorly. He just reminded me of his obsessive rules. It is the fact that I can't touch him or kiss him or feel like I'm participating when it counts that is bothering me.

Am I capable of meeting his needs? Did I rush into this? Maybe I'm not ready for what he wants. I mean I do want to be with him. I want to go on dates with him and kiss him. And I want to be able to feel like I'm capable of thinking for myself when we're being intimate. But it seems that he wants more.

A strange feeling blossoms in my chest at the thought of asking him to leave. It is not a particularly good feeling. It is very similar to the one I had when we stopped talking for months. The one that kept me up at night when I yearned for him.

I stare up at the ceiling and stop moving. What am I doing? Why am I creating space between us when he's only here until tomorrow? No matter how much I plead with myself, I can't get my mind to simmer down just long enough for us to explore this fully. I keep telling him that I'm going to be easygoing and give my best effort, but that isn't true. There is still the nagging part of my brain that questions every aspect of this.

There is a light knock on my door.

"Leila," His voice is muffled. "This will work a lot better if we talk about it together."

I start to pace again and bite my lip.

Who in their right mind invites someone to their home only to run and hide in their room?

He knocks again, the door is unlocked but he's giving me some space.

I slowly open it and stare down at the floor.

"May I come in?" He doesn't move.

I nod.

He looks around, taking everything in. His hands go into his pockets. I was so sure the first time he saw my bedroom walls it would be when he would fuck me against them. Fat chance of that happening now.

"Ethan," I lick my lips. "I want to be able to kiss you when I want." Being in my room, in my territory, makes it easier to talk about what is really bothering me.

He walks over to my bed and pats the spot next to him. I sit, reluctantly. We're too close for comfort.

"I feel like I'm being set up to fail." I place my hands on my lap.

Should I throw on some clothes to talk about this? He's not staring down at my body or even appears to be distracted by it. But it's the principle. Isn't it?

"You think being able to kiss me whenever you want will make you more comfortable?"

"I don't know." I rub my face. "It just feels very out of my comfort zone to sit still and wait for you to touch me. I want to touch you too."

"I know you do." He looks at my bed and then at me.

"It feels like things are happening to me, not something that I really need to be a part of." That is the best way I can describe it.

"I forget how new you are to this." He turns to stare at me. "Usually subs know their role and they know their why." He tries to find something in my eyes. "You are a natural submissive, Leila. I just think you're having a hard time admitting it to yourself. And maybe I've been assuming that you know more than you do on my end."

"How do you know that I am?"

"You have a natural inclination to please those around you." He doesn't miss the tightening on my lips. "It is not a bad thing."

"So, then why is it so hard for me to give in right now? I feel the need to please you but I also hate that I can't get comfortable enough to completely let go. It is like I'm just one more mistake away from failing."

"I think you're scared."

"Of punishment?" That is a scary thought but not a good enough explanation.

"Of just how much control you're willing to give me." He corrects me.

I shake my head. "That doesn't make sense."

"Because you're still new at this." He patiently explains. "Do you want to explore your why?"

"What does that even mean?"

"Why do you want to be submissive?"

"Because I want to be with you."

"It has to do with you. It cannot be because of me."

I huff. "It is because of you. It is all for you."

"I don't think so." He doesn't make it easy for me. "If your past relationships are anything to go by, you have always played the role of the submissive."

"You mean I slaved away for assholes who didn't deserve it."

"I mean exactly what I said. Don't think so lowly of yourself." He is becoming upset now. "Being a sub is empowering if you allow yourself to see that."

"Letting a guy control every aspect of my life is empowering?" I sound bratty but I can't help it. He's getting very close to something that is scaring me. I don't understand it.

"Allowing yourself to be vulnerable and cared for is empowering. Those who see it from an outside perspective only see the controlling guy who wants a brainless slave." He runs a hand through his hair, probably frustrated that he's having to spell it out for me. "I don't want that. I want you to be in the moment with me. I want you to ask for permission because you are engaged. I want you to lose yourself when I touch you but also know that I'll be here to ground you when you need it. I need you to see this for what it is, not for what others think they know."

We sit in silence.

His explanation is the perfect one. It is exactly what I needed to hear. But nothing I say can convey that. I don't know how to get past my mental roadblock.

"If that doesn't change your mind, I don't know if anything else I say will." He reaches over and places a hand over mine. "I want you, Leila. I need you. I appreciate your honesty and applaud you for speaking up. Now I just need to know if we're really doing this or if you're going to keep holding back."

Disappointment makes it almost unbearable to speak. I've been nothing but a brat. I've put both of us through unnecessary hurdles and have gotten more grace from him than I ought. Why hasn't he left yet? Am I really worth all of this trouble?

I take a determined breath.

Even if I feel as if he can do better- because he can. Because he has shown me now multiple times that he is an effective communicator who truly cares about his subs. Not only that but his infinite patience and kind words have stayed with me each step of the way. It is only natural that I picture him with someone worthy of his caring nature.

But I cannot picture letting him go. I cannot imagine turning him away. Or walking away from the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have to make myself worthy. I have to give us a true fighting chance and put everything else aside. I've shown him some of my worst and while others in the past have put me down for less, I cannot picture Ethan being half as mean. He may push me into doing things that are out of my comfort zone, but it is not as if I hate any of it. In fact, I quite like all of it.

If there is anyone that deserves the best of me, it is him. He is the one I want to shower with my attention, my submissiveness, and my will to please. Even if I think I have a lot to improve on, I can at least make my best effort to give him my all whenever we're together. Even when we're apart. He has done what he can from his end, it is my turn to reciprocate.

I fall to my knees at his feet. I lower my eyes and place my hands on my thighs.

"I'm sorry for my behavior, Master." The words slip from my lips with ease. I shut down the last bit of rebellion and free myself from thinking of anything other than pleasing him to get the best out of this. For both of us. "I will do anything you ask of me."

His hand comes down to pet my head. His fingers trail down until they land on my chin. He guides my face up and brushes my cheek. "I thought I would either be kicked out of here or have to punish you for misbehaving. I think what we need now is a clean slate. You're just too lovely on your knees."

I kiss his thumb and rub my face against his hand. "I want to please you, master."

His hazel eyes darken and a frown forms on his lips.

"Did I ruin your weekend?" I sit up straighter on the back of my heels. "I promise I will try harder, sir."

He stands and motions for me to follow.

I immediately miss the feel of his hands in my hair but try not to dwell on it. When I try to stand, he applies gentle pressure on my shoulder.

"Crawl, my pet."

I almost purr from the longing that settles in my lower belly. As my knees complain about the hard floor, my mind and body rejoice at being his anything. Being a pet is degrading, in an awful way. But being Ethan's pet is the best thing I think of right now. Being in his care and at the center of his affections. I'll bark and roll over if it will earn me another pat on the head.

Is this what letting go feels like?

He walks past the living room, not looking back at me because he knows I will blindly follow.

We make it to the kitchen, where I stare down at the linoleum floor. I'm still on my hands and knees, waiting for my next instructions. I don't look at him or sit back. I just wait.