Read Online Deep Surrendering (Episode Three) by Chelsea M. Cameron - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chelsea M. Cameron
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is … this is not easy for me. To change something like this.” He fiddled with his keys and wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, or make babies, or even see a chick flick with me. All I want is to see you above me. We’ll be doing everything we already do. Just face-to-face.” He couldn’t say no when I put it that way.
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” He tossed the keys into a little dish by the door. “But that’s the thing. My fears and worries and anxieties don’t make rational sense. When it comes to sex, I’m not rational.”
He took a step toward me. “I’m sure that most people aren’t, when you come down to it. You’re not the only one with sexual peculiarities. I think everyone has them.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Not you.”
“How do you know that? You never asked me,” I said, crossing my arms. “And I told you that I needed a little kinky fuckery in my life. I wasn’t lying. I’ve experienced more with you, sexually, than I ever have before. I love being with you, but sex is like ice cream. I can love one flavor, but that’s not going to stop me from trying others.” Talking about ice cream made me remember him going down on me with the ice cubes. God, that had been intense.
“I want to try face-to-face flavor. If you don’t like it, you can tell me. Or pick a safeword. I have one, so you should have one too.”
My safeword was lilac. So far, I hadn’t had to use it.
“You want me to pick a safeword?”
“Why not?” It wasn’t a terrible idea.
“Okay, now I have to pick one,” he said, walking slowly toward the bedroom.
“Hurry up,” I said, playing with the hem of my shirt.
“You’re distracting me.” He backed further toward the bedroom door. “You make it hard to think.”
“Time’s ticking,” I said, raising my shirt a little higher. My skin was charged with the anticipation of what was going to happen.
“Red,” he said, his voice decisive.
“Red, as in stop?” Simple, to the point.
“Yes.” His stance shifted again from somewhat nervous and playful to commanding. It was hard keeping up with him, but I would. I walked until I was close enough to count his eyelashes.
“Okay then,” I said.
“Okay then.” He opened the door and I followed him in.
And now a bonus scene from Fin’s POV…
She was always sexy, but the outfit she’d donned for the club was one of the sexiest I’d seen her in. Instead of the cheap glittery shirts that made girls look like walking disco balls, her top was silky and liquid.
Like moonlight on a rippling pond. It coated her body and clung to her curves. The skirt hugged her hips, and it would be so easy to slip my hand under it in the chaos of the club. No one would know but her.
This woman would be the death of me. It already felt that way. When I saw her, my heart contracted, and I found it hard to breathe.
Putting into words the way I felt about her was almost impossible, but I knew it wasn’t love. Couldn’t be love. It was too soon, she was too sweet, I was too bad for her.
We didn’t live in the same worlds. I couldn’t…
But then she looked at me and smiled and it seemed possible. She asked for my secrets, and I was giving them to her, one by one. Drop by drop, I would drain myself and give everything to her. What would I be left with? I didn’t know.
I couldn’t stay with her. I would leave and then what? Away from her influence, would my feelings change? Would I go back to the clubs? Would she be enough?
We hadn’t talked about what would happen when I left. She was thinking about it. I was thinking about it, but neither of us wanted to taint the moments we had with worries of the future.
The days and hours and minutes with her were slipping through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do about it, short of quitting my job, but my father and grandfather would never allow that to happen. I’d mentioned maybe changing my lifestyle or
“I’m not asking you to marry me, or make babies, or even see a chick flick with me. All I want is to see you above me. We’ll be doing everything we already do. Just face-to-face.” He couldn’t say no when I put it that way.
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” He tossed the keys into a little dish by the door. “But that’s the thing. My fears and worries and anxieties don’t make rational sense. When it comes to sex, I’m not rational.”
He took a step toward me. “I’m sure that most people aren’t, when you come down to it. You’re not the only one with sexual peculiarities. I think everyone has them.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Not you.”
“How do you know that? You never asked me,” I said, crossing my arms. “And I told you that I needed a little kinky fuckery in my life. I wasn’t lying. I’ve experienced more with you, sexually, than I ever have before. I love being with you, but sex is like ice cream. I can love one flavor, but that’s not going to stop me from trying others.” Talking about ice cream made me remember him going down on me with the ice cubes. God, that had been intense.
“I want to try face-to-face flavor. If you don’t like it, you can tell me. Or pick a safeword. I have one, so you should have one too.”
My safeword was lilac. So far, I hadn’t had to use it.
“You want me to pick a safeword?”
“Why not?” It wasn’t a terrible idea.
“Okay, now I have to pick one,” he said, walking slowly toward the bedroom.
“Hurry up,” I said, playing with the hem of my shirt.
“You’re distracting me.” He backed further toward the bedroom door. “You make it hard to think.”
“Time’s ticking,” I said, raising my shirt a little higher. My skin was charged with the anticipation of what was going to happen.
“Red,” he said, his voice decisive.
“Red, as in stop?” Simple, to the point.
“Yes.” His stance shifted again from somewhat nervous and playful to commanding. It was hard keeping up with him, but I would. I walked until I was close enough to count his eyelashes.
“Okay then,” I said.
“Okay then.” He opened the door and I followed him in.
And now a bonus scene from Fin’s POV…
She was always sexy, but the outfit she’d donned for the club was one of the sexiest I’d seen her in. Instead of the cheap glittery shirts that made girls look like walking disco balls, her top was silky and liquid.
Like moonlight on a rippling pond. It coated her body and clung to her curves. The skirt hugged her hips, and it would be so easy to slip my hand under it in the chaos of the club. No one would know but her.
This woman would be the death of me. It already felt that way. When I saw her, my heart contracted, and I found it hard to breathe.
Putting into words the way I felt about her was almost impossible, but I knew it wasn’t love. Couldn’t be love. It was too soon, she was too sweet, I was too bad for her.
We didn’t live in the same worlds. I couldn’t…
But then she looked at me and smiled and it seemed possible. She asked for my secrets, and I was giving them to her, one by one. Drop by drop, I would drain myself and give everything to her. What would I be left with? I didn’t know.
I couldn’t stay with her. I would leave and then what? Away from her influence, would my feelings change? Would I go back to the clubs? Would she be enough?
We hadn’t talked about what would happen when I left. She was thinking about it. I was thinking about it, but neither of us wanted to taint the moments we had with worries of the future.
The days and hours and minutes with her were slipping through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do about it, short of quitting my job, but my father and grandfather would never allow that to happen. I’d mentioned maybe changing my lifestyle or
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