Page 56 of Gideon
“Red, red… red…” she panted out, her eyes wide and filled with fear. I climbed off the bed slowly, stepping towards her but leaving plenty of space between us. Her eyes darted to the door, telling me exactly where her thoughts were. She wanted to run. I made sure to keep the space between her and the door clear.
“Breathe, love. Just breathe,” I coached her, my hands held before me in a calming gesture, hoping to show her that I meant her no harm, that I would not even approach her until she was ready.
“I can’t,” she panted out between harsh breaths. “I need space. I need…” she trailed off, her eyes darting back and forth around the room like a skittish mouse caught in a trap.
“The scene is over. We are in no rush. But let’s talk, okay?” I suggested calmly, backing away and sitting down on the bed.
“Can you put the paper away?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her torso tightly.
“Of course,” I replied, quickly standing and gathering the scraps of paper off the bed and where they had scattered about the floor.
“I need a shower. I need to think,” she muttered softly, turning towards the bathroom.
“I think that sounds like a good idea. I’ll be here when you are done, ready to talk,” I reminded her in a gentle tone. She turned back to me as she walked out of the door, looking at me with the smallest hint of a smile of thanks and nodding before she walked down the hall to the bathroom.
I finished picking up the paper, discarding it into the trash bin before I sat back down on the bed with a heavy sigh.
“Christ,” I spoke to the empty room, running my hands over my face. She had been incredible during the scene. It was a huge moment, one I now wondered if I had royally fucked up somehow. I spotted my sleep pants on the floor by the bed and quickly donned them, my mind racing through the events of the evening for any tiny detail that would give an explanation to her break.
Nothing had gone wrong that I could tell, not until those last moments. I had no idea what had started it. It wasn’t anything new. There had been nothing other than pushing her to hold back her orgasm for the second time.
I sat back down, brushing a few errant strands of hair from my face. I needed a haircut. A haircut and a stiff drink, but first I needed to tend to my submissive.
My submissive.
That had a delicious ring to it, but I was half certain that after tonight, that particular option would be forever off the table. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but the sinking feeling in my gut could not and would not be ignored.
“Gideon?” Naomi’s soft voice called from the doorway. I glanced up at her, noting her long wet hair braided down her back, a simple bathrobe tied around her waist as she rested against the doorjamb.
“Hi,” I greeted her with a smile, patting the bed beside me. She immediately walked into the room, sitting down on the bed beside me, yet possibly as far away from me as she could. “Do you want to talk?” I asked her with only a teensy bit of hesitation.
“I do. The shower helped,” she replied with her own smile.
“Good!” I exclaimed, reaching out to touch her thigh. She shifted back just a little, which made the tiny bit of hope in my heart deflate that much further.
“I’m sorry,” she stated quietly, her head hanging down and her eyes trained in her lap, where her hands wrung themselves together in either nervousness or guilt. Likely both, and neither of which I was okay with.
“Naomi, look at me,” I stated, letting my dominance filter back into my tone. I waited until her eyes were trained on me again. “I need you to understand this. You havenothingto be sorry about. Using a safeword is never, and I meannever,something to apologize for. It’s imperative that you understand that. What you did was perfect,” I explained honestly.
“Perfect?!” she scoffed. “I ruined the scene.” I could hear the disappointment in her tone, whether in the fact that we did not get to finish the scene or simply in herself.
“Itwasperfect. You felt how you felt, and you called out a safeword. You did exactly what you were supposed to do,” I continued, wanting nothing more than to take her in my arms and provide her the comfort I knew she needed. But while I knew she needed comfort, comfort looked different for different people. She needed to be the one to speak her needs. It was my place to listen, and then to provide.
“But I messed it all up,” she nearly whined.
“You didn’t. You did what you were supposed to do. I need you to understand that,” I reiterated.
“I know we discussed that before. I agreed to it. I understood it,” she began softly. “So why is it so hard to accept now?”
“Because before it was a theory, it was an idea that we both agreed to. Putting those ideas into practice is an entirely different thing,” I explained calmly.
“I was okay, though.”
“What do you mean?” I asked her, needing to understand what she meant.
“I mean, nothing was wrong. Not really, at least,” she explained.
“So why did you safeword? I’m not mad,” I clarified. “I just want to understand.”
