Page 98 of Bartholomew
We parted a short while later, cleaning up quickly and quietly. His hands were soothing, caring, loving me with every touch. Still, we spoke no words. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to open up to him about how I felt, but now wasn’t the time. During post-coital bliss was possibly the worst time to tell a man you loved him. Especially for the first time. It just felt wrong.
“Let’s get to bed, love. It’s late,” Ollie yawned. I glanced at the clock, shocked as I read it was already well past midnight.
“I suppose we should,” I yawned back. “What? It’s contagious,” I teased when he tossed me a knowing look.
We settled into bed, curling up in the warm sheets, before I gathered up the courage to speak. I wouldn’t tell him I loved him, but I needed to break the silence. It didn’t feel natural. Not for us.
“You called me firefly,” I tossed out, confused that this was the thought my brain had gone with.
“And you called me Daddy,” he teased, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me to him, my back to his chest.
“So, does that mean we are ready to talk more about this dynamic of ours?” I questioned. At this hour of the night, why was I trying to discuss this? I inwardly chastised myself.
“I’m getting pretty sleepy. Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he suggested, nuzzling his face into the back of my neck. He pressed one solitary kiss right there, sending an errant shiver down my spine.
“I’d really like to talk about it now,” I whispered into the dark of the room. Only the moonlight offered any proper source of visibility.
“Very well,” he chuckled, kissing the back of my head before twisting and turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The room flooded with light. “So, you want to talk about our dynamic?”
“Well, I mean it can wait ‘til tomorrow, I suppose,” I immediately backpedaled.
“No, no. I’m all ears, love.” Every time he called me that, my heart raced. I didn’t want to read into it. That had been my plan from the get-go, but it was growing harder and harder with each passing day, not to think that perhaps that little pet name held more weight than either of us had acknowledged yet.
He sat up against the headboard, looking far more like a cover model than anyone had any right to, especially in the middle of the night. I, on the other hand, looked like a sack of potatoes. Ollie’s voice echoed in my head, silently scolding me for the negative self-talk. Even if it was just in my head.
I sat up, turning, and sitting cross-legged so that I could see him. “Well, I guess I’m wondering what your thoughts are on the matter. If you don’t mind taking the pressure off of me and going first.”
That perked him up, far more than I had expected. The smile that lit up his face was full of excitement. I could feel that flicker of hope ignite inside of me.
“Delilah,” he began, tilting my chin up with the crook of his finger so I would look into his eyes as he spoke. “Our trial has gone incredibly. So much better than I imagined, honestly.”
“What did you imagine?” I asked softly, excitement flickering through me.
“Well, that’s difficult to answer. I imagined it wouldn’t go well, I suppose. I thought either you would decide that you hated being submissive — which, based on our upbringing, could very easily have made sense — or that you would love it, but only be doing it because you thought it would please me.” He gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I nuzzled into his touch, noting the way his grin spread in delight.
“But I am doing it to please you.” I looked up at him in confusion. Why wouldn’t my willingness to please him fuel our dynamic?
“Yes, but also no. Do you only partake in our play because you think it pleases me?” he asked. I thought over his words. The truth was not hard to find.
“Well, no, that’s just part of it. I do it because it makes me feel safe and secure and like… I don’t know… like I don’t have to fit in a box anymore. Like I’m not required to shave down parts of myself in order to fit into what others tell me to be. With you, I can be myself. But then, that version of myself enjoys submitting to you. Enjoys letting go and not being in charge. It recharges me and gives me strength and energy. It’s not easy to explain, but especially after tonight — after all of this, I know it’s right.”
“No, it’s not easy to explain, but I hear you and I understand. It’s the same for me. I am expected to be in charge in Zion. It’s how things are. But that is not why I identify as a Dominant. I identify as a Dominant because it fuels me and recharges me to be in charge of a submissive during play. Caring for her safety, her pleasure, her experience, enhances the experience for me. And I see that same thing in you, but the inverse of it,” he explained.
“Ollie, when I submit to you, I do so because I choose to, not because someone else is dictating that I do. It’s a choice made of my own free will, which makes it unlike anything Zion could have ever imposed on me. I do it because —” The words died in my throat, unwilling to be released. This wasn’t a conversation about love. It was a conversation about a kink dynamic we had entered into. A contract of sorts, perhaps. He wouldn’t want to hear a silly girl waxing poetic about her emotions. Not now.
“Delilah,” he began again, taking my hand in his. I could hear his hesitation, and I did my best not to let my heart sink. “Delilah, there are so many things I want to say. I don’t know what the future holds for me, let alone for us. But I can tell you that I want — no, I need to see where this goes. I need to learn more about you, to grow deeper with you. I want to continue not only our dynamic but also our relationship. A real relationship.” I held my breath, my eyes searching his for any trace of dishonesty. He hadn’t come out and said it, but there it was, yet again. Something resembling love. Something of a future with him.
“Truly?” I asked softly, as my eyes refused to look away from him. I searched his face, looking for any trace of rejection, yet I found none. He wanted this. He wanted this just as I did.
“Yes, Delilah. I truly want this. More than I can express.” He spoke fervently, and I hung on his every word.
“I have to admit, I had thought it would be different,” I admitted with a soft chuckle.
“How so?”
“I guess I thought it would be more formal, more rules and such. Or something. I don’t know what I mean,” I brushed off, realizing I wasn’t making much sense.
“That’s the beautiful thing about kink, though. It’s not the same for every person, or every dynamic for that matter. For some, yes, their dynamic consists of, and built on rules and regulations and protocol. Levi is like that, actually,” Ollie said with a short laugh.
