A Novella MisTaken(24)

He’d asked again and again with his actions and his words and, though she kept saying that she did trust him, she still continued to fight. There was a lesson to be learned here. Why was it so hard for her to set her teacher mentality aside and become the student? So far, Noah’s dominance had only heightened the experience. When she let go, he took her to places she hadn’t known she could go. So she took another deep breath in and when she let it out, she let it all out—the doubts, the fears, the misgivings.

And she let herself really trust him.

“Okay.”

He kissed her then, stroking into her mouth with his tongue in the same lazy tempo he thrust into her pliant body with his cock. They danced like that—leisurely, deliberately. Each step of their tango took her one step closer to another orgasm, the tension creeping in so quietly, the anticipation building so gradually that when she was finally at the brink, she was desperate for release.

Noah read her body well, seeming to sense when she was there. “Touch me,” he demanded.

Her hands flew to him, sweeping up the planes of his taut chest with her palms, down the hard muscles of his back with her fingertips. Then, just when she thought she couldn’t take the delay any longer, he told her to hold on. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he sped up, finally pounding into her with the pressure and the pace she’d longed for. It tipped her over the precipice. Starbursts shot across her vision and her entire body stiffened, her climax overtaking her while Noah drove into her. It was the most incredible orgasm she’d ever experienced, pulsing through her with incredible force, stealing her breath from her entirely.

She was so taken away, that she barely noticed when Noah grunted and reached his own climax. Next thing she knew, in fact, she was wrapped up in his arms, his hand caressing her cheek as her heartbeat returned to normal.

“You’re back,” he said as her eyes found his.

But he was wrong. She wasn’t back. At least, she wasn’t back to who she’d been before. In the course of, well, intercourse, everything in her nature had been questioned and thrown into upheaval. Now she didn’t know how to reconcile this new self with her old self. More to the point, was it even possible?





CHAPTER 6

In a situation like this, there was only one thing to do. Jaylene took to the Internet. Were there other girls like her out there? Was there some kind of meeting she could attend, Girls on Top Who Accidentally Ended Up on Bottom and Liked It? Or. Something like that. Doms and the Feminists Who Shamefully Banged Them.

Nothing was coming up on those searches. At least, nothing that didn’t come with an adult content warning. Damn it! Why was she still tempted to look? Noah was ruining her. Had ruined her. This was the worst. No, the worst was her complacency.

Why was she so delighted by her own downfall? She was going to have to stop wearing her “Eve Was Framed” shirt. It was becoming more and more obvious just how tempting temptation could be. And forget original sin. It was original guilt that was going to kick her out of her happy little Eden.

It had to end. It just had to. It also had to stop playing on an infinite loop inside her head. And she definitely, definitely had to stop getting hot and bothered all over again thinking about it. It was just that thinking it should end made a lot more sense before she’d gone and enjoyed the hell out of her multiple orgasms.

She finally found a sub-Reddit devoted to feminist porn and dove in. Commenters were divided as to what the definition of feminist porn actually was. Some believed it had to be by women and for women to negate all exploitation. Some merely thought that women being in charge of their own sexuality was feminist enough. In fact, a couple of those users identified themselves as being in the porn business.

Jay sat back and thought. If porn stars, women who actually performed sex acts on camera for money, could still self-identify as feminists in charge of their own sexuality, then was she really going to deny herself?

Frustrated, she slammed her computer shut again.

Why didn’t anyone else seem to be having this kind of a problem? It was a significant amount of the female population that now considered themselves to be feminists, according to studies on her favorite Web sites. Judging from the success of those hideous books she had argued about with Noah, the populations had to overlap, at least marginally. So were the women buying those books just so lackadaisical about the movement? Or was there something she was missing, some secret clause in the Femme Code?

She wondered if she could discreetly suggest this as a special topic at the next T.E.N meeting. But how to go about that without identifying herself as the guilty party? Perhaps she could pretend it was a question for a friend. Perhaps she could blackmail Lacy into doing the asking.