My fingers slowed as she rode out the lingering waves that jolted her body, leaving her spasming beneath me. I wanted to know what it would feel like to experience that with my cock deep inside of her, but I knew I had to wait for that. I also knew that after watching her explode before me, I would never survive it.
"Wha – what was that?" she asked, frantically trying to catch her breath.
"That was an orgasm." A smile spread across my face and no matter what I did, I couldn't make it go away. Excitement ran through me as my dick throbbed painfully against my thigh. I felt the beginnings of my own release burn deep behind my bladder and I knew I had to take care of it before I went blind.
I leaned down and placed a kiss on her dry lips before standing away from her.
"Where are you going?" she asked, sounding panicked.
"I … uh … I have to take care of something. Get dressed and meet me in my office when you're done." I closed the door behind me and rushed to the bathroom, unfastening my pants along the way. This had never happened before. I had perfected control to the point I could hold it back for nearly fifteen minutes. But watching Ivy come undone stripped me of it all. I had no control when it came to her.
One second and two strokes later, I was coming in my hand, trying my best to aim the remnants into the trashcan. It was sloppy and I hadn't done that in almost twenty years, but I was desperate. I cleaned myself off and went back to my office where I found Ivy waiting timidly for me.
"Ready?" I asked, holding the door open.
"That's it? We're not going to talk about it?" She sounded disappointed and ashamed.
"Oh, we're going to talk about it. Just not here. We can talk in the car."
She nodded insecurely and walked to me with her head down.
"No," I said as I lifted her head up with a finger beneath her chin. "No looking down. There is nothing to be ashamed of, or embarrassed of. You were fucking perfect and you should be proud of that."
She nodded and I took one more opportunity to kiss her lips, leading her out to my car with a firm hold on her hand.
I no longer had three choices. I didn't even have two.
I had one.
I was never going to be able to let her go.
Ivy was quiet as I took her back to her apartment. She stared out her window as I drove and seemed to have pulled away from me some. Even her body felt further away. I had known that by pushing her, I ran the risk of pushing her away. At the time when I made that realization, I figured it could have been a good thing. If she made the decision to stop her treatment, there was nothing I could have done about it. But facing that reality made me rethink my logic.
She tried to jump out of the car as soon as I pulled up to her building, but I held onto her arm and kept her in the car. She wouldn't even look at me. The panic began to rise, bubbling to the surface. Was this it? Was this the last chance I'd have with her?
"Talk to me, Ivy. What are you feeling?" I didn't ask her, it was more like I begged her to talk to me. I was desperate to hear what she was thinking. There was no way in hell I'd let her out of my car without talking to me.
She rested her head against the seat and looked up at the upholstered ceiling, exhaling loudly as she did so. "I don't know what I'm feeling, Cade. I'm feeling a lot of things. None of which I can explain accurately."
"Can you please try?"
I could see her eyes cut to me without turning her head. "Scared," she finally mumbled. I had to strain to make out the word.
"Scared? Why? Did I do something to scare you?" I asked quietly and tried to maintain my composer, even though I was feeling panicked.
Her posture was stiff and her breathing sounded a little unsteady in the quiet car. An unknown feeling came over me as I sat next to her, fearful of the words she might say. Had I gone too far? Had I pushed her beyond what she was able to handle? And if I did … what did that mean for me? For her? For us? I almost didn't want to hear her answer. I wanted to live inside of this little bubble, remembering the way her face lit up as I took her over the edge for the first time. I wanted to live in that space where it was just her and me. No one else. No other thoughts between us except the ones that reminded us of the wonderful things we had experienced together.
But I couldn't stay in this bubble and live there. And neither could she. I could see it on her face as her eyes moved from mine and her fingers twisted together on her lap. Things between us had changed and I didn't think my heart could've raced any more than what it already was … but waiting for her to tell me the exact thing I feared proved me wrong.
"You make me want things I've never wanted before, Cade. I mean, I've wanted them … I've just never gone after them. They've always scared me too much so I blocked them out. But now it's as if I can't block them out any longer. You give me the courage to make me want to go after them instead of running away. And that scares me even more because I know that going after them will completely destroy me." Her voice was so soft it sounded like air.
I had to force myself to talk, to tell her what she needed to hear, even though I wanted to take a moment to bask in the glory of her words. I couldn't afford to dwell on them. She had no idea how much her words rang true … not only did she run the risk of destruction, but so did I. And I couldn't think about that. "That's a good thing, Ivy. It means you're getting better. It means what we're doing is working."
Her hands finally stopped twisting together as she pulled them to her face, hiding herself from me. She didn't want to see me … or didn't want me to see her-I didn't know which. It didn't matter which it was, it nearly ripped my heart out. All I knew was that I couldn't handle not seeing her face, not knowing how she was feeling, and not being able to make it right. I needed to make it right … to make her right. I needed to look into her eyes to find the reassurance that she was okay.
I turned myself in my seat until I was looking right at her and pulled her hands from her face by her wrists. Her eyes were pinched closed and her chin pointed down. Something in me took over, making the fear I had been haunted by earlier suddenly change to determination. I held her wrists in her lap with one of mine and used the other to tenderly grab her face. I pulled her gently by her chin until she was facing me and then waited it out until her eyes finally opened.
"Talk to me. Tell me what is making you close up like this. Tell me what I did or didn't do … or how to make it right. Lead me, Ivy. Let me help you by leading me. I told you I would follow … let me follow you." I knew I sounded desperate, even to my own ears, but I didn't care. If I had to show how desperate I was in order to get her to open up, then so be it. My heart clenched in my chest as I came to the conclusion that I would do almost anything at that moment to make her feel better.
"I already told you," she argued.
"No you didn't. You told me that you want things … what things? What do I make you want?"
"I want to touch you," she blurted out. The shock of her admission was clear on her face.
"Then touch me."
I released her hands so that she could do what she wanted and leaned forward, offering her my bare chest. Her fingers reluctantly went to my collarbone and then slowly moved to my chest. Her eyes followed her fingers, never looking back into my eyes. But then her hand kept going until she paused at my belly button, lightly stroking the line of hair that ran beneath it. My breath stopped and the air that was on its way out turned into a stone knot inside of my throat. Her words filled my head as realization settled in the pit of my stomach. She wanted to touch me. There.
The sound of her breath in the car had vanished with mine until there was complete silence surrounding us. I kept my eyes on her face as she kept hers on her hand. With one quick intake of air, she moved her fingers again until they were on the button of my jeans.
"Wait," I whispered, barely getting the word out. I felt lightheaded as my cock started to grow in my pants, angry at me for grabbing her hand and pulling it away. But I couldn't think about my aching dick or the throbbing burn in my balls. I had to think about Ivy and what we were doing. "You can't."
Her eyes shot up to mine, the red flecks burning with unasked questioned.
"This has to be about you … not me," I said, trying my best to explain. It was the truth, though. Never, not once in my career had I allowed a woman to touch me during treatment. It was never about what they could do to me; it was always what I could do for them. If any of my clients needed help with that department, I had plenty of exercises or videos for them to watch and learn from. I never allowed them to practice on me. It was against my policy.