Page 51 of Saint
Okay, now I hate him. I take the wretched control and turn it up. When we get back to his place, I’ll grab my stuff and go back to my place for the night. I can’t have him touching me. He doesn’t comment on my choice, he just puts the truck in first gear, and we drive away. Of course, he’s still being a bastard, and we head in the wrong direction for the flat. Instead, we head for the other side of town. Still, I say nothing, I don’t have enough energy to speak, and what I want to say will not go down well, and I have no escape route out.
Eventually, we pull up alongside the studio, and I climb out before he’s even switched off the engine. I turn off thefucking plug, I’m half a breath away from stomping it into pieces. I will never use this one again. A waste of my money, but I’ll get over that.
I rush up the steps to his flat, ignoring his calls for me to stop, to wait. I’m grateful for the spare key he gave me and can get indoors without his help. The rush to the bathroom stops me from shutting the door behind me. My jeans are down to my knees in seconds, and the plug pulled free. I drop it on the floor before turning on the cold tap and dousing my face. The disappointment at the way the evening has gone will surface, but not yet. I can cry about it when I’m home and in my own bed.
When I turn around, Saint is filling the doorway, his hands up on the top frame, and he looks angry. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on? You started this, Noah. If you didn’t like what was happening, you could’ve stopped it. You could have said red, and it would’ve been over. So don’t get pissy with me when this is all on you.”
I pull up my jeans, my exposure to him too much. “I know, and now I’m ending it. I’m going home.” I step up to him, staring, until he drops his hands and moves out of the doorway. I go into the living room to collect my bag and my drawing supplies. I’d spent the time outlining some ideas I had for a new tattoo. The bedroom has a few of my things in there, including my phone charger so I grab that too.
Saint hovers behind me. I can feel the tension radiating from him as I move past him. “I told you that you’ll hate me sometimes. This is blowing way out of proportion, we should be having sex right now, letting me praise and adore you for your control. It was a difficult act to perform in public, and you were incredible.”
I shake my head. He doesn’t realise his mistake in this. “I didn’t safeword because it wasn’t a scene. It was a date.”
He reaches for me, but I step away, so he stands in front of me, barring me from leaving. “What the fuck are you talking about? You had a fucking butt plug up your arse. Jesus, Noah, what was I supposed to think?”
“That’s the problem, you can only think as a Dom. I’m worth more than only being your submissive. Can you let me leave, please?”
“No.”
I find my back to the wall and his solid body pressed against mine, his mouth hard on mine, as his cock thickens and lengthens against my stomach. This isn’t what I want. He’s bullying me into acquiescing, giving in to him. As I push him away, turning my face away from his, he falters. Moving a step back.
“Not now, Saint. It’s not fair, you can’t control everything with sex.”
“Y’see, that’s where you’re wrong. That’s what I do, and you knew that about me.”
I shake my head, exasperated, and move towards the front door. “When you said you didn’t know how to be a boyfriend, I didn’t realise that it meant you weren’t going to try.”
What the fuck just happened?
How have I got this all wrong? What was I supposed to do? He gave me the green light to play with him. It seems I’m right. I have no clue what boyfriends do, but I’ve missed something important. Noah wasn’t even angry, I know how to deal with that. I know how to deal with a sub hating me after a tough scene.
I want to run after him, chase him back here. Force him to kneel for me, bring him back to the perfect sub I know he is. What about tomorrow? He has clients all day. Is he going to turn up or let them down? I suppose I’ll wait and find out in the morning. Right now, though I’m hyped up, I need to get this feeling out of me.
I can’t be here anymore. I need to run. My gym kit is still in the truck, and it will only take fifteen minutes to get there. I’ve got keys if Knox has gone home.
The lights are still on, and there are only a couple of cars here. One of them belongs to my brother. I don’t want to talk to him, I just need to get all the mistakes of tonight out of my system. When I walk in, I head straight for the treadmill. I put my EarPods in and hit up some Airborne Toxic Event and ramp up the volume.
With the incline up high on the machine, I pound out the miles. With the music loud, I can block out the image of Noah’s disappointed face, the sadness in his eyes when I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. The sweat is running down my face, stinging as it runs into my eyes, or maybe it’s my tears that I won’t let break free. I don’t think I’m going to get Noah back, he all but said red as he pushed me away.
A hand stabs the cool down button and all but throws me off the belt. Knox moves to stand in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest and a deep scowl embedded in his forehead. “What the fuck, Saint?”
I press the stop button, breathing hard after such a run. “What? I can lock up. You don’t need to hang around.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Didn’t you say yes?” The frown continues, like he’s trying to work out an impossible equation.
“Say yes to what? You know what? Never mind. I’ve had a shit enough night without having to rehash it to you.” I step off the machine, my legs aching. They are going to be stiff as fuck tomorrow.
“You and Noah living together. That was the whole point to his night, well apart from him preordering all your favourite dishes. He said he had the whole date night planned, starting with a cosy meal and ending with you planning to live together.”
I don’t understand any of what he’s just said. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Yeah, we had dinner, but he handed me a remote for a plug. He wanted to play.”
“Oh, Saint, what the fuck have you done?” He walks away, back to his office. I follow, needing to know what he knows that I don’t.
I sit on the sofa, my forearms on my knees. “I thought he wanted a scene; he gets off on humiliation. I got us a table in the middle of the restaurant and had him squirming in his seat the whole night. I thought he was loving it, even giving him an ultimatum in the truck on the way home. I mean why the hell would you turn up with a plug up your arse?”
Knox sighs and scrubs his hand through his hair. “Vanilla couples play with toys, too, y’know. Not everything is a scene. This is what I know he planned, a cosy intimate dinner, a proper date with just the two of you. He said you’d had a lot of scenes lately and visited the club, and he wanted to share a normal night with you. To show you how much he loves you.”
“Well, that’s not what fucking happened. Why didn’t he say anything? He could’ve spoken up at any time. I asked him why he didn’t safeword me and stop it all. He said it wasn’t a scene. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” I’m standing up now, pacing the room with my hands in my hair. “Any trust we’ve built has gone. If I can’t trust him to stop everything when he’s reached his limit, I can’t take him back in a playroom.”
