Page 39 of We Own Each Other

My hand was burning. I couldn’t help myself. When the flesh of my palm made contact with his cheek, it made the most satisfying clapping sound, and then was immediately followed by the most delicious moan. It was so much satisfaction in a single cacophony of sound that the pleasure traveled down my ear canal and directly into my cock.

That was it.

That was all I needed to completely ignore the horrible, terrible stuff we needed to talk about and just start playing.

Grabbing his throat, I shoved him down into the bed. He went down without even an ounce of resistance. I held up my hand again, readying another slap, though I watched and waited to see some sign that he was afraid.

But no. There was none. He was staring up at me, eyes unyielding.

It was like he was daring me to do it again, and who was I to deny him?

I slapped him once more, and spittle went flying out of his trembling lips. I could already see it, a fresh red handprint blooming across his right cheek. There was nothing like marking your lover like this, so everyone could see they belonged to someone. Other than a collar, it was the ultimate sign of love between partners.

I wanted one of my own, but I didn’t think it was time to ask for that just yet.

No, what I wanted and needed right now was something else.

I gave his neck a squeeze, and his entire body shook beneath me. I raised my hand again, but held it still, unwilling to slap him again.

I wanted him to say the safe word. I wanted him to say it so I could prove to him that he could trust me. His gaze drifted over to my hand, hovering by my face, and I watched as the shape of the words trembled across his bottom lip. But before he said it, his mouth closed. He sucked in his bottom lip while his eyes fell shut, bracing for impact.

It was like… he was trying to punish himself?

But why?

I had been the one to do wrong. If anyone deserved punishment, it was me. All of the lust tenting in my pants was quickly deflating.

I should have trusted my instincts, because something was wrong with this play.

I could feel it. I could feel he wasn’t comfortable continuing. Why was he so adamant?

So, I dropped my hand and let go of his throat, instead opting to grasp his face. His eyes shot open, confusion playing across his features as I knelt down and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back, slow and hesitant. Once I was done, I pressed my forehead to his, brushing the apples of his cheeks with my thumbs as I sighed.

“I don’t want you to push yourself for me. Please.”

He glared, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“Play is supposed to be fun for both people. I won’t enjoy it if you don’t.” His lower lip was trembling as I spoke, like something was just on the cusp of slipping out, but he held it fast. So, I continued. “You can trust me. I know this was super weird, but I promise you can. Say the safe word, let’s end this play, and then we can talk everything out. Okay?”

To my surprise, he yanked his face to the side, pulling out of my grasp. I rested my hands on the bed, watching as tears began to bloom in the corners of his eyes. Still, his lips trembled, holding back whatever he felt so compelled to say.

My heart lurched in my chest.

I so desperately wanted to just wrap him in my arms and hold him, but I had a feeling he would push me away if I did, and that rejection wasn’t something I was sure I could bear.

So, instead, I just said his name:

“Corin.”

And what he responded with was exactly what I had been hoping for:

“It’s bath time.”

My entire body quaked. Usually, it would be scary and uncomfortable, but as soon as it washed over me, I was left with an unexplainable, immense comfort. This is what I wanted.

I wanted to know that he knew he could tell me to stop, and I would.