Page 24 of Obey
She clamps her lips shut, shaking her head, making her hair jiggle, sending a waft of her vanilla scent my direction. It’s hard to fight the urge to close my eyes and breathe her in.
“You’ve seen my, my list.” She swallows, then takes a drink.
“I have.” I anchor my elbows to the table before I steeple my fingers. “But that doesn’t tell me a lot.”
“It tells you what I’d like to try.” It’s these flashes of stubborn, silent strength that makes me both curious about this woman and hard in my pants.
“You’re right, it does. It tells me you’ve got little experience. Or you held back on your list.” I lean back in my seat. “Do you masturbate, Half-Pint?”
Her jaw drops, mouth hanging open for a long moment before it snaps shut. I could fry a fucking egg on her sizzling cheeks if I was so inclined.
“I used to.” She’s twisting her hands in her lap so much she might pop off a digit.
Giving her foot a nudge under the table makes her eyes meet mine, but only for a moment. “What do you mean you used to?” How long has it been since this woman had an orgasm?
I’d ask who hurt her, but I already know the answer. Harry takes everything good from people and uses it to make his own life better. He hurt her. He’s clearly controlled her sexually, and not in a positive way. And certainly not for her benefit.
She clears her throat, her jaw trembling. Suddenly, my rivalry with her ex feels petty. Who gives a fuck what happened in college? This woman has been broken down, she’s a shell. She’s insecure and self-conscious and in this moment, the bright and bubbly pixie from the plane is nowhere to be seen. It makes my blood boil and my insides liquefy.
I want to kill him.
“He caught me doing it once.” She snorts, a bitter sound juxtaposing the tears trickling down her face. “At least I was alone, unlike when I caught him.” She brushes the tears from her jawline with the back of her hand.
“He told me it was dirty, disgusting even, and that I should be ashamed of myself. He made me feel so gross I haven’t done it since.”
I can’t stop the growl rattling at the back of my throat. Her eyes flex wide like she’s sitting with a wild animal, and I can hardly blame her. I didn’t need a reason to hate her ex more than I already did, but this... this is too much, too far.
Minutes ago I wanted to ruin her for Harry. Now I want to destroy the asshole.
I can’t ask her when she last got off. Those expressive eyes, those pouty lips, that trembling chin. I don’t stand a chance against her if she asks me again to do something.
She sniffs, drawing my attention to her button nose. My hand moves without instruction to collect the tears dangling from the tip, ready to drop onto her lap. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.” My voice sounds like it’s been dragged over broken glass.
“This isn’t like Fifty Shades.”
Her declaration takes me aback. Literally. I almost cuff her nose as I retract my hand. “What do you mean?” That movie is generally frowned upon in the kink community. If this is the extent of her kink education, we definitely have our work cut out for us.
“Their negotiation scene was much more fun. She had a contract and everything.” She’s trying to lighten the mood, but it does little to dull the bitterness pooling at the back of my mouth, or the ice charging through my veins.
“There are basic contracts in the office upstairs if you’d like to look one over. But we aren’t at that point yet.”
Her shoulders curl, chin dips, eyes fall to the floor like I rejected her and something sharp stabs my chest.
Not sure if it’s Harry the asshat or the fact we’re sitting in something of an ice box that makes me shiver, but we’re approaching seeing-your-breath-on-the-air level of cold inside Club Protocol so we need to find somewhere warm.
“Let’s find a room to bunk in for the night, and we can start over in the morning.” It’s been a day already. And I don’ttypically like to do things with play partners if they’re overly emotional, drained, dehydrated, or not well rested. Those things only contribute to the risk of error.
I can tell from the way she’s forcing her face into a smile—or what she thinks is a smile, it’s definitely more than a grimace—she’s disappointed, which only makes my cock even more intrigued.
We pick up our crap, and I lead her two doors down the hall to another room. It’s got two beds in it, but beds made up for playing, and beds made up for warmth are not the same thing. So I raid the aftercare closet, returning to the room with a giant stack of blankets. Hopefully that’ll be enough to stop her teeth from chattering and her lips from turning blue.
When I step into the room we’re staying in, she’s still staring at the bed. “Why are there two in the same room?”
She helps me lay blankets on top of each other over the dark satin sheets.
“Sometimes couples come together, and they like to fuck beside each other.” It’s the only explanation I have, it might not be the real reason, I have no idea, I’m just guessing. I should probably ask someone.
She glances behind her at the glass. “And other people watch.” She hooks a thumb back to the window.