Unfurl: Chapter 25

‘What are you doing?’ Belle asks as we step out of the lift together on her parents’ floor of our mansion block.

‘I’m spending the night with you,’ I tell her, my hand on her back.

‘Er, no you’re not.’

‘Yes I am. Because you’ve had a hell of an evening, and I don’t want you waking up in the middle of the night and spiralling.’

‘I won’t be waking up in the night and doing anything else, either.’ She inserts her key in the lock and turns it.

I follow her inside, right up close so she can’t slam the door in my face. ‘We’ll see about that.’

‘Rafe.’

‘Belle. I think we’ve established that, no matter how filthy you let us get with you in our sessions, intimacy is important to you.’ I do what I’ve been dying to do every time I’ve seen her and swipe her hair over one shoulder. I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her snug against me, baring her neck to my lips. ‘And I think we’ve also established that I can’t get enough of you. I don’t want you going to bed alone, and I’m hoping you feel the same.’

My words turn to leisurely kisses, and she turns in my arms. She’s still in the demure Burberry trench she wore to cover that little dress tonight. The one that makes her look like a very expensive call girl. Not that I’d tell her it’s slutty—she’d take it as an insult when I mean it in the most ardently complimentary way possible.

If she was further on in her journey, I could have fucked her standing in the middle of the club with the merest twitch of her hem.

‘It’s my parents’ flat,’ she protests in an unconvinced tone, and I know I’m close to having this in the bag. ‘It feels disrespectful.’

‘They’re not here.’ I grin and kiss a path from her mouth to her neck.

‘Were you on the debating team at uni? You should have been.’

‘A little more respect for your elders.’ I smack her lightly on her pert little bottom and gain an instant semi. Fuck’s sake. ‘If you’re not comfortable with me staying here, come upstairs with me.’

‘To your evil lair? I don’t think so.’

‘Then let me stay here.’ My hands return to her hair, to that glorious mane that messes with my mind every time I catch a glimpse of it. I rake it off her face; I smooth it back into a ponytail and hold it in a loose fist. It’s still damp from our shower.

I’m not sorry I came in it. Not sorry at all. It won’t be the last time it happens; I’ll make sure of that. It’ll happen again when I finally get her comfortable with fucking and I wrap my hand around that mane and use it to angle her head while I fuck her from behind. Then I’ll pull out and shoot my load all over the curve of her arse. The arch of her spine.

I go for a low shot. ‘You said you’d let me do anything to you.’

That flush stains her neck instantly. ‘I meant in the club. Not in my parents’ flat.’ She says the words reverently, like we’re in the fucking Vatican.

‘I’m not going to hang you from the chandelier, sweetheart. Although…’ I cast my eyes to the ceiling and earn a thump to my stomach.

‘Ouch,’ she grumbles.

‘My abs are harder than your knuckles, baby. Deal with it.’ I make my voice softer. More seductive. ‘I’m not ready for tonight to end. I told you that. I want to know what you’re like when you sleep. I want it more than anything. I want to wake you up by kissing your neck. Your back. Those gorgeous, glossy shoulders of yours.’

It’s true.

It’s so fucking true.

She asked me, after I’d made her come and we’d jointly stroked me to another violent climax, after I’d dried her off, whether I was going to go next door to the Playroom.

I was speechless.

And furious.

As if, after the glorious sins of the flesh we’d committed tonight and the truths we’d bared, I would even conceive of wandering off and fucking someone else.

She’s trying to play it cool, I can tell. She’s compensating for what I suspect she sees as inexperience. Neediness. She regrets showing me her vulnerabilities, and I cannot allow that. What she doesn’t realise is how honoured, how blown away, I feel to be the one she’s entrusting with her firsts. That, after a rocky start, she’s beginning to open up to me with her wants and needs.

I suspect she’d never want to be a true sub, which is fine by me. I’m not a Dom, just a kinky control freak. Belle’s upbringing has informed her kinks, but this phase of her life is about digging herself out from under the rubble of other parties’ control, not submitting to it anywhere outside of the bedroom. That said, just as being dominated in bed fires her up, having her vulnerabilities reassured is equally important for her. Which is why I intend to pet and adore her in bed tonight. And it’s why I made sure to lavish her with praise as she jerked me off under the spray. Dirty words of encouragement and appreciation and acknowledgement, her enthusiastic response to which told me my instincts about her having a praise kink were bang on.

What a good girl you are.

Having your little hand wrapped around my hard dick feels so fucking good.

Almost as good as fucking that tight, virgin little cunt is going to be.

Tying you up tonight and defiling my little postulant was hot as fuck.

Pushing that virginal nightgown up and seeing your naked body, all trussed up for me and ready to take my fingers and my tongue, sent me fucking insane.

I was ready to come all over you the second I walked in that door. You didn’t stand a chance.

I meant every word, and I meant the other stuff I told her in the shower. Every single thing I did in that room was to worship her as much as it was to corrupt her, but I wasn’t overt enough. Neither was Callum, but tonight was my show. My responsibility. We toyed with her and teased her and treated her like our delectable little plaything, but she hasn’t come far enough yet to own her sexuality. To truly understand that the party holding all the power tonight was her.

It’s as staggering as it is heartbreaking that she’s so unaware of the intoxicating spell she weaves. She’ll find out soon enough, when she’s lost her so-called virginity and she goes searching for new lands to conquer in the Playroom. She’ll own it then. She’ll be the queen of that place.

The thought makes me sick to my stomach.

I trail the lightest fingertips over her neck and shrug the coat off her shoulders. She shivers under my touch, and I close the deal.

‘No funny business. I promise. I want to know what it’s like to have you drift off in my arms. I’ll keep my dick to myself. Just let me have this night with you.’

She nods, and I can see she’s weary from the orgasms and the drama and the emotional toll tonight’s taken. It’s enough to cause her to drop the guard she’s been so valiantly holding up. ‘I’d like that,’ she says.

I get a smile, and it’s tired, but it’s real, and it’s beautiful.