The Commitment(66)

"I'm nice and wet and desperate right now," I said, frustration filling me, my fists clenching.

"I know it's been a while, but I've been under the weather. You can wait."

I exhaled heavily. Submit, Kate, my mind screamed. Give in. This is not something you want to fight over.

I turned and ducked under his arm, exiting the shower and pulling my towel around me. I was angry and frustrated, the ache in my groin nagging me. I wanted to squeeze my thighs together. I wanted to lie on the bed and rub out a quick orgasm to relive my arousal.

I knew that I was being a bad submissive.

Drake left the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, his still-semi-hard erection straining against the fabric.

"No one said it would be easy, Kate."

I shot him a glance and frowned. "It doesn't make sense," I said, so frustrated. "I'm horny and you’re hard. We should just … fuck. It's been almost a week."

"I don't want to just fuck. That's an end to it, Katherine," he said as if trying to remind me of the direction of our power exchange. I knew it was his decision but I’d never felt so aroused outside of our encounters. I never felt deprived. I felt that way now.

I sighed and turned away, heading to my drawers in Drake's dresser to pick out some clothes for the day. Drake followed me and stood behind me.

"How does it feel?"

I pulled a drawer open a bit too roughly and it almost fell out. "You know very well how it feels."

"No, I don't. I don't have a delicious little woman's body like you. Tell me. Close your eyes and describe how your body feels."

I stopped what I was doing. Maybe, if I described it well enough, he'd have to have sex with me. I closed my eyes. I felt him come around to face me, but I kept my eyes closed and bit my bottom lip as I thought of how my body felt.

"Butterflies in my stomach," I said. "My body aches, everything feels swollen. It's throbbing a bit, like a heartbeat. I feel a little breathless. I'm wet and I feel like I want to squeeze my thighs together. Rub my clit." I opened my eyes. "I want your cock inside of me."

He leaned against the dresser, his elbow resting on the top, his knee bent.

"If I was to fuck you now," he said, his voice a bit breathy, "it would be over in about two minutes. You'd orgasm and then two minutes later, I would and it would be finished."

I nodded. "That would be a relief. I could get on with my day."

"You make sex sound like a simple bodily function," he said, that wicked grin starting. Then his expression changed and became more serious. "Sex between us is more than that, Kate. It should be special."

I sighed. "You're trying to keep the potatoes and gravy separate on the plate, Drake."

I turned away and left his side, because I was unable to keep looking at his face. He grabbed my arm and stopped me, pulling me back to face him once more.

"Kate," he said. "You're here with me all the time now, pretty much every hour of the day when we're both free. What more do you need?"

"I'm not with you very long. You keep extremely busy, even now when you aren’t working as a surgeon. Even when you don’t have to be away. I'm afraid that you're trying to avoid me."

I pulled my arm out of his grip and grabbed my jeans and a sweater, a clean bra and undies. Then, I went to the bed and began to dress. He followed me to the bed and stood watching me dress.

"I'm not the only one who's busy. You spend every day at the studio and do I complain? Why would I try to avoid you?"

I shook my head as I dressed. "I don’t know. You're the one with an undergraduate degree in psychology. Your life's getting too messy and out of control? You're afraid of being hurt again?"

"You’re not afraid of being hurt?"

I shook my head. "I'm more afraid of feeling nothing. No love. No pain. Nothing feels like," I said, searching for the right words. "Like death. Like the people I saw in the camps, skeletons, barely alive but living despite everything, their eyes huge, blank. Even pain is better." I went to him and looked in his face. "I want to feel, Drake. Everything, good and bad. It was like I couldn't feel when I was depressed. Nothing. That's what I'm afraid of."

I sighed and pulled my sweater over my head. Drake said nothing, standing beside the bed watching me.

"You're here with me," I said, trying to explain how I felt. "But you still need to keep it all separate. Now, you do it all with me present. But none of it really mixes. It's like you're keeping that part of yourself separate, not emotionally involved in sex, so that it’s pure. You can control it. Protect yourself. It means you can never get really close to me."