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“DID YOU HAVE SEX WITH Eve?”
The question dangles between us and tension fills the air with the damage of a guillotine, hanging over my head waiting to sever what little progress we’ve made. When Dorian doesn’t immediately answer the question, I think I may have overstepped. As it is, we’re both treading into new territory. And it’s not like there’s a guideline of dos and don’ts for relationships.
“Sit with me.” Dorian extends his hand.
Taking his hand, he leads me to the couch. Dorian’s thumb caresses the back of my hand as we sit together for a moment. When he speaks again, he doesn’t answer my question.
“I’d rather fight with you, Sunshine, than fuck anyone else.”
My left-hand twitches, wanting to slap his face. But my right-hand can’t seem to let him go. So, I make my feelings clear.
“I don’t want to share you. I don’t want anyone else’s hands on your body. And I don’t want anyone’s mouth on yours.”
His smoky gray eyes darken with something unrecognizable.
“The last time I had sex with Eve...” He pauses before adding, “was the night I met you over a month ago”
Accepting his answer as the truth, I nod my head. But I still have questions about his lifestyle and the Asylum.
“When was the last time you had sex?” I continue.
“Are we playing twenty questions?” He smirks, seemingly unaffected by my curiosity.
“Yes. If you like. But you have to answer honestly.”
“I always do.”
“Okay then. When was the last time you had sex?” I repeat.
“The last time I had sex or the last time I was sexual with a woman?”
“They’re not the same?” The moment I ask the question I feel stupid. “Never mind; don’t answer that. I know it’s not the same.”
“I received a blow job from a submissive at the club a week after I had sex with Eve.”
“What about Eve?” I cringe just saying her name.
“What about her?” Dorian leans back on the couch observing me closely.
“Is she also a submissive?”
“She is.”
“Is that why you had her play hostess last night?”
“That wasn’t playing Sunshine. Eve works at the club.”
I know from my intensive internet search last night exactly what Dorian means when he says, ‘that wasn’t playing’
But I ask the question anyway.
“So, you didn’t plan a scene with Eve for my benefit?”
“Someone’s been doing some research.”
Something in Dorian’s comment rattles me, and I feel ashamed of my curiosity. Lowering my head, I attempt to avoid eye contact.
“I didn’t plan a scene with Eve or anyone else.”
The things she said to me was of her own accord. Somehow knowing that Dorian didn’t plan it makes me feel ten times better.
“I didn’t go to the Asylum to play.” He continues. “My choice of restaurant was questionable, but I swear to you that’s all it was.”
“Am I just a challenge for you?”
“I’m not used to being told no.”
“And I’m not exactly the kind of woman who says yes to every command.”
“I'm used to getting what I want.”
“Then this will be a new experience for you.”
“No one is all vanilla, Sunshine. Not even a virgin.”
Vanilla. Another term I learned last night.
I honestly don’t know what flavors appeal to me sexually. What I do know is that I like how Dorian make me feel. His mouth on me, his hands on me. And the spanking, if I’m totally honest with myself I like that too. I even like that he’s aggressive.
Sometimes.
“What’s the most vanilla thing you’ve ever done in bed?”
“Sleep.” His wicked grin slays me. “I play at the Asylum. And I sleep alone in my bed.”
“You’ve never taken a woman to your bed?”
“No. Never.”
“I fuck, Olivia. I don't do warm and fuzzy and I don’t do sleepovers.”
The words he spoke last night comes back to me amplified in stereo surround sound. Along with the memory of the night he gave me an amazing orgasm, soaking my panties. But the disappointment I felt waking up alone even though he told me he wasn’t staying the night, robs me of my desire. Is that the reason he didn’t stay with me? Because he prefers to sleep alone. But why?
“Don’t concern yourself with the why, Sunshine.”
The sound of Dorian’s voice pulls me away from my thoughts. But it’s his turbulent gray eyes that hold me captive. I know there’s something he’s not saying or maybe I’m not asking the right questions. Whatever it is we have a long way to go to get to know each other.
“Have dinner with me tonight?” Dorian asks, effectively ending my questioning.
“Why don’t we make dinner instead, here at my place?”
“I’m not sure any dish I attempt to cook is edible.” He chuckles.
“Alright then, a cooking lesson it is?”
“You want to teach me to cook?”
“Yes. This is me planning our second date.”
“Our second date.” Dorian echoes.
“That’s right. My place tonight 7 o’clock sharp.”
Dorian stares as if unsure what to say next. I stand, pulling him up with me.
“You’re kicking me out?” He asks, as I lead him to the door.
“Only for a few hours. I need to go to the farmer’s market for some fresh ingredients.”
“What can I bring? I want to contribute to the meal.”
“Just yourself.”
I barely have the door open when Dorian pull me into his arms. The heat of bone-melting passion simmering below the surface come to a boil as our mouths collide in a chaotic kiss. Grinding his rigid cock against my stomach, he makes his intentions perfectly clear without asking for what he wants. I place his hands down under my hips, before wrapping my arms around his neck. Pushing up on my tiptoes, I urge him to lift me. Our moans and groans fill the air, sliding down each other’s throats. Of its own volition my hand finds its way to the back of his head. I rock up and down, rubbing my soaked panties against his cock. I can’t say I hear the words he whispers, heating my core. But when his lips are so close, and we’re breathing the same air, words don’t really matter.