Page 22 of Savage SEAL's Virgin
“Oh, yeah …” she moaned and closed her eyes. “Baby, yes …”
Moving my pinky in and out of her ass, I felt her walls begin to pulse. “If you really want to have an experience you’ve never had before, say these words, Blyss. I love you.”
Desire had taken her over. Her body was about to let go. I watched her lips part. “I love you.” She arched her back as I felt her climax. “Ahhh! I love you! I fucking love you!” Her eyes opened then and tears ran out of them as she looked at me like I’d tricked her or something.
My cock was ready to fire, but I was holding back. “One more time, baby. But this time say my name.”
Huffing and puffing, she looked at me. “I love you, Troy Masterson. I love you.” The orgasm that took me over had me groaning as I fell over her body and humped until there was nothing left in me. When it was over, I looked at her and found her frowning.
“And what’s that for?”
“I’m not sure I meant what I said to you.”
“Well, your body meant it. Your brain will catch up.” I pecked her lips. “I love you, Blyss Danner.”
As I uncuffed her, I watched her looking more and more worried. Rubbing her arms and legs, I finished my duties as a Dom, making sure my partner’s limbs had blood flowing into them again.
“Troy, is that really how you did things with other Subs? I mean the first part.”
“That is exactly what I’ve done to other Subs. Then I’d take one side of the bed, leaving them alone on their side, and we’d fall asleep.”
“No cuddling?” she asked, as if that was crazy.
“Why would we cuddle? We wanted sex. Nothing more than that.”
I laid down, giving her the option of cuddling or not. She laid down next to me, then rolled over, putting her head on my chest and throwing one leg over me. “I didn’t feel a thing at first. Not a thing. No spark, no fireworks, nothing.”
“That’s because it was fucking, Blyss. No real emotions are involved.”
She raised her head to look at me. “How does anyone climax?”
“Friction, I guess.” I chuckled and ran the back of my hand over her cheek. “It takes a lot longer to orgasm when you’re fucking someone. For both parties. Can I make the assumption that you like it when we make love a lot better than when we merely have sex or fuck?”
“You can safely assume that. How did you and I manage to make a connection so quickly if you had never experienced one with anyone else? Or are you lying about that?”
“Now, why would I lie to you about that?”
She shook her head, then laid back down, resting her head on my chest again. “I don’t know. It’s just that this odd sensation went through me when I thought about you having anything with anyone else the way we have it. I don’t like that feeling.”
“That’s jealousy, Blyss.” I grinned, happy she had some jealousy where I was concerned. “I’ve got a ton of that over you.” I kissed the side of her head. “Go to sleep. Morning will be here before we know it and you know those birds won’t allow us to sleep in.”
“Jealousy? I don’t like how that feels at all.”
My voice was heavily laced with sarcasm, “Me neither. Goodnight.”
Things moved further that night than they had in the last three weeks.She loved me!
Blyss
Troy made me wait a whole week before we left that forest to go to the club. He was taking me to be a voyeur and nothing more than that, for that night anyway. With his help, I was making some real breakthroughs in myself. He thought I should learn how to cry, virtually on demand, to get some of my troubles to come to the surface. I hadn’t managed to do that yet. I needed the outer stimulation to achieve that. If pain was initiated, then my emotions would rise. I couldn’t do it on my own, even with the ideas he gave me.
“Feel sorry for that poor baby who was left in the rain, Blyss.” He looked at me with sorrow filled eyes. “She was helpless and left there by her own mother, a person who was supposed to love and care for her, unconditionally. It’s not fair that she robbed you of that, Blyss. Cry for that baby.”
I’ve tried to see the baby I had been and feel sorry for it, but I couldn’t. He’d have to put me over his lap and spank me until I cried, which would take about twenty smacks to do, and that number was growing. He didn’t want to use things on me. He hated the way the whip had left my back with a few stripes on it. It was me who asked about using a paddle. He agreed to do it, and we both found that to be more pleasing. He didn’t have to give me that many strikes before I was crying.
I found it hard to say the safe word. I wanted the pain to keep on coming. Troy decided that when I began to cry, he’d stop. He was worried about the addictions I’d had when I was born. He’d only give me enough pain to open myself up and let things out, but no more than was necessary to achieve that.
The day he took me back to Portland, he and I went shopping at some exclusive dress shop inside the Dungeon of Decorum. After getting us an apartment there for a week, he set me up in sexy clothes and gave me what I wanted. I wanted to immerse myself in the culture of BDSM. I wanted to see what it was all about. I’d found out that pain helped me get into my feelings. Now I wanted to see how being put on display as a sexual object might help me to grow as a person.
