Destiny of Love

James and I cuddled on the couch, watching a movie. I was lying against him with his arm wrapped around me, his fingers mindlessly drawing circles across my skin. I was barely paying attention to the movie that I had suggested we watch. Instead, my mind was laser-focused on a discussion I have been wanting to have with him but have been scared to bring up. I have gone over what I want to say so many times; it’s on a permanent loop in my head. I am worried that he will be upset. I don’t want him to think he is not enough…or worse, that I am asking too much.

James and I have been together for nearly five years. We both grew up in Arizona, just on opposite sides of the state. He grew up in Kingman, a smaller city in northern Arizona, while I was raised in Tucson, a larger city. James does have a dark past, although he prefers not to discuss it. I know he had a tough childhood, but he refuses to discuss his parents. Every time I bring them up, his entire body tenses, and a mix of sadness and anger appears in his eyes, so I’ve learned it’s best not to ask. Fortunately, my childhood was fairly normal. I was a shy kid and didn’t have many friends. I had good parents who did their best to care for me. My parents struggled, living in low-income housing—I wasn’t spoiled, but I was always loved.

We met during college in Phoenix. I was a freshman majoring in Art. He was in his third year as an English major. I picked up a job at a little coffee shop on campus, where he just happened to work. Our friendship blossomed right away. I thought he was smart, outgoing, and so fucking sexy with his dark shaggy hair and his deep hazel eyes that looked gold in the sun. He was muscular and strong, but there was a softness to him. He was everything I wanted in a partner and then some. I was just the small, shy, new girl with hair the color of dull chocolate that was so curly it often was just a frizzy mess most of the time. I didn’t really talk to anyone more than I had to.

James was able to pull me out of my shell and push me to believe in myself. Our friendship quickly developed from a platonic one to a romantic one. He graduated two years later and is currently a student-professor at the school. I graduated a few months ago and own a gallery for indie and small-time artists, with my best friend. James and I leased a small apartment together shortly before he graduated and have been living here ever since.

Life with James has been wonderful. We don’t fight; we talk things out. He loves me with everything he is, and I mirror those feelings. I am just praying that this conversation doesn’t go negatively. I just need him to listen and understand. Even if he doesn’t like what I have to say…I utterly hope this doesn’t change his ideas about me.

I am so nervous and lost in thought that I hadn’t realized that James had asked me a question. His fingers stopped moving, and he spoke louder, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Leena? You lost in there?”

I looked up at him and smiled weakly before quickly looking back down. “Yeah, sorry,” I replied meekly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gently cradling my face in his hand, his thumb stroking my cheek as he waited for me to meet his gaze. My eyes met his for a few moments before I broke the contact, opting to stare at the old tan carpet instead. “Why don’t you talk to me? You’ve been in your own head ever since the movie started.”

“I’m okay, just thinking about some things.” I reached over to look at the time on my phone before stating, “I should go get dinner started.” I sat up and started to stand. James grabbed my wrist lightly, making me sit back down.

“Wait. What were you thinking about? You look worried about something.”

“I just…it’s…nothing.” He is trying to pull it out of me, but I don’t know if I am ready. I stand, pull away from him, and walk to the kitchen. James is right on my tail, of course, not ready to give up.

“Please talk to me. Something is obviously on your mind.” He begs as I pull ingredients out of the pantry and fridge. I set the stuff on the counter and look at him. I really look at him and see him for everything he is. He has been my rock, my lifeline. He knows more about me than I know about myself. With that in mind, I keep my hopes up and tell him.

“I just…I don’t know…Sometimes I feel like we are missing something.” I stumbled out instantly, forgetting the speech I could have recited in my sleep twenty minutes ago.

James looks at me quizzically, “What do you mean, missing something?”

“Ah, shit, that’s not…” I sigh heavily, close my eyes, turn around, and lean into the counter; the pressure against my stomach eases my nerves slightly. James steps forward and wraps his arms around me, kissing the side of my head.

“Just be honest, baby girl. What is it you need?” He whispers into my ear, calming my nerves instantly.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like we lack…passion? Don’t get me wrong, I love our sex life…I just feel like I need more…aggression…no…that’s not what I mean…” I stumble over my words again, trying to explain. James flips me around so that I am facing him and puts a finger on my lips to shush me. “Domination?” He suggests, understanding me perfectly.

I exhale with relief as if I had been holding my breath through my wrecked speech. “Yes. Domination. When we have sex, I don’t want to make decisions…I want you to make them for me, tell me what to do, and don’t be afraid to hurt me. I’m okay walking away with a few bruises,” I chuckle, finally relaxing a little.

Oh, God, that felt good to get out! I finally looked him in the eyes to gauge his response. His eyes are bright, and he is smirking at me…wait…smirking? “Are you trying not to laugh at me right now?” I squeak, losing my confidence quickly.

He loses his smirk and looks at me seriously. “No, baby. I would never laugh at you for being honest with me about your needs.” He wraps his palm around my cheek. “So, domination, huh?” He questions while wrapping his unoccupied hand around my waist and pulling me flush with his body.

I can feel my temperature rise and my cheeks flush with his hard body against mine. “Yes,” I whisper to him softly.

His hand leaves my face and travels to my hip, his other hand grabbing a hold of the other side. “I can do that for you, little one.” A darkness flashes in his eyes; gone so fast it was as if it wasn’t there at all. I gasp as he grabs my hips hard, picks me up, and sets me on the counter. He pushes my legs apart and steps in between them. His reaction is surprising but I am so glad he is going along with it instead of judging and not being understanding.

A moan slips from me as he grabs my hair, pulls my head to the side, and attacks my neck with his mouth, sucking, kissing, and lightly biting. “Before we go too far, we need to establish a safe word. What would you like it to be?” He asks, his lips tickling me as they brush against my skin.

It was hard to concentrate with his mouth on me, so I responded with the first word that came to mind that I knew I would remember. “Avocado.” I moaned and then chuckled lightly when I felt him smile against my skin. That word is our real-life S.O.S. Anytime either one of us is in trouble, we agreed a long time ago that was what we would say.

“Good girl. Now, if I ever make you uncomfortable, push you past your comfort zone, or do something you don’t like, and you want to stop, use the safe word. Do you understand?” I nodded in agreement. He stops kissing my neck and adjusts his hand holding my hair so that my head is tilted back. He looks me in the eyes, the seriousness of what he is saying showing on his face. “I need verbal confirmation that you understand. When I ask you a direct question, I expect a direct answer. Also, from now on, when we are playing, you will only refer to me as Sir. Now, do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand.” I confirm, nodding again.

“Good girl.” He kisses me hard, biting and pulling on my bottom lip. I am breathless and panting through his kisses instantly. His hand snakes up my shirt and finds my nipple, twisting it. My sharp gasp turns into a moan as the pain morphs into pleasure. He has barely even started, and I can already feel wetness pooling between my legs.

He continues to pull and twist on my nipples while kissing me, moving his mouth along my jaw down to my collarbone, where he bites hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh, fuck!” I moan loudly, unable to hold it in. My body pushes into his. Like I am unconsciously egging him on, telling him to keep going.

He stops kissing me and pulls his hand out of my shirt. “Tisk, tisk, I told you no speaking unless asked a direct question,” He growled in my ear. “I was going to play with you now, but instead I am going to punish you and make you wait until after dinner.”

I squealed lightly and exclaimed, “I’m sorry, sir!” As he abruptly pulled me from the counter, ensuring I was steady before spinning me around and bending me over it.

“Apologies won’t save you now, little one.” He scolds me. I whimper as he pulls my leggings down and runs his fingers along my slit. “You’re so wet for me. Too bad I have to punish you instead of giving you pleasure.” He said tauntingly as he smacked my bare ass.

I cry out as he quickly slaps me again. “That’s two. Count them. Out loud.” He demanded, his hand coming down for a third time.

“Three!” I yelped. He spanked me a total of five times, with me counting along. When he was done, he smoothed his hand over my red skin, soothing it before pulling my pants back up. He spins me around to face him again.

“Have you learned your lesson?” He asks.

“Yes, sir,” I reply breathlessly.

“Good. Go ahead and finish making dinner. I am going to prepare a few things for later.” He winks at me before exiting the kitchen. My legs are shaky as I spin around and brace myself against the counter, breathing heavily. I try to understand fully what the fuck just happened. And here I was hoping he wouldn’t think I was a harlot for wanting this! His reaction has completely thrown me for a loop, which I was not expecting. He was too good at this, as if he had done it before. Now I feel like I have more questions than answers.

I was so distracted by my thoughts and my thoroughly turned-on body that I had a hard time throwing a simple meal together. Once it was ready, I plated the food and set the table. James was sitting down just as I was setting down our plates.

We ate in silence for a while. I had so many questions, but I wasn’t sure where to start, so I decided to keep them to myself for now. I was also having trouble keeping my mind off what he had planned for me later.

I was so in my own head again that I didn’t realize he was done eating until he stood to clear the dishes.

“You’re in your head again.” He stated before gesturing to my plate, silently asking if I was finished. I nodded that I was, so he took it. “Is it nerves or excitement?” He asked before taking our plates to the sink.

“Both, I think. I have questions that I am not sure how to ask right now.” I answered honestly, standing to clear our glasses, meeting him at the sink, and setting them down.

“That’s okay. Give me tonight, and we can talk about it in the morning, once you have had time to formulate your thoughts about it. I never want to make you feel out of place or uncomfortable. Remember that you can use your safe word at any time. I will stop what I am doing immediately.” He responds softly, reaching his hand up to brush my hair behind my ear.

“I know. I feel safe with you.”I rest my face against his palm as he strokes my cheek once before pulling his hand away.

He pulls one of my small scarves out of his pocket and asks with a smirk, “Are you ready to play?”

“Yes, please, sir,” I reply with a smirk of my own as he ties the scarf around my head, blindfolding me.