6. Claude

SIX

Claude

N o, I had no idea what was going on anymore. I just knew I’d been munching on my fries, and Arlene had been talking about the baking shows she liked to watch. She got very passionate about it, and it was endearing. Apparently sometimes the advice the judges gave was plain wrong, and she got all red in the face and pouty when she tried to explain why it was irresponsible that they did that. She really got talking when it came to baking.

Anyway.

So, that was happening, then the fries were gone, and we mentioned dessert almost at the same time. For some reason, I’d suggested a crêperie right down by my apartment. But then all the tables were busy, so I had the brilliant idea that we grab them to go.

Now Arlene was sitting down on my couch after I refused to let her help get stuff from the kitchen.

“Your place looks so cozy.”

“It’s just a place.” I shrugged. I hadn’t put a lot of thought into decorating it, either. It was cozy, but that was mostly due to the landlord’s furbishing and a few trinkets Ben had blackmailed me into putting up. “I mean, your place is cozy, too.”

Hers looked more intentional, too. Was that something I should’ve mentioned when I visited?

Ugh.

There definitely was something behind the taunts that I didn’t know how to socialize with others.

“Yeah. I like soft things.” She blushed as she said the words.

Admittedly, I was too busy noticing the way her hair still looked perfectly styled while I had to tie up mine in a bun before we left the diner.

“That suits you.”

It suited her a lot, actually. I kept my musings to myself, though, and just placed the two plates and forks on the coffee table.

My couch was big enough to where we could both sit down comfortably with plenty of personal space, so don’t ask me why I sat right next to her, where our thighs touched. I noticed the way her breath hitched for a second. I was about to pull back, to pretend I always intended to sit three inches away. But then she looked at me, and her lips parted, and she smiled, and…

And apparently anxious, not very experienced women were my Kryptonite and gave me all kinds of clichéd butterflies.

“I…” Arlene started speaking, but she stopped. Her eyes darted downwards. “I don’t know what’s acceptable here. Which, might sound super inappropriate, and I’m sorry?—”

“Do you want to kiss me?” I had to ask.

“Do you ?”

Why was she so surprised? Kissing was nice.

I ignored the fact that I didn’t usually feel so attached to the idea of kissing someone. “I really do.”

Arlene swallowed. I held my breath until she bobbed her head up and down. I didn’t take the lead often, but I liked that it wasn’t even up for debate that I would here.

I understood it was only a kiss, but power still surged through me. I sat straighter, leaned closer. My hands found her shoulder, then traced her jawline.

“Is this okay?”

The air grew charged around us. Arlene nodded again. I hovered over her for a few seconds. I liked this kind of foreplay, teasing with anticipation and expectations. It didn’t come from a cruel place, though.

My lips connected with hers. She was soft, immediately pliant beneath me. I guessed we didn’t have to wonder where she fell in the D/s spectrum. The thought made me grin against her lips as I nudged her toward the back of the couch.

She complied after letting out a soft moan. Her cheeks reddened right away. It made me want to tease her further. I ran a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. She looked at me through hooded eyes, her lips parted.

I studied every line on her face, memorizing it. It was a simple kiss, almost innocent, but Arlene was so open in her reactions that someone else might think I was doing much more than I really was.

It was mesmerizing.

“What’s…?” Arlene swallowed. Her body tensed for a second. I pulled back right away, my head tilted to the side. “I don’t know what to do with my… hands, or anything else.”

A self-deprecating laugh followed her words.

Shit.

“What do you need to know?”

It was hard, but I managed to focus on my breathing, to keep steady. I appreciated her questions—a lot. It wouldn’t work if I shut down. I wanted her to ask.

“Just…” Arlene cleared her throat. Her eyes met mine easily, though. “What are you comfortable with doing? And what’s… Where can I put my hands?”

If I wasn’t straddling her, I would squirm away—at least for a second. It was fine, though. It was just the general discomfort that came at the beginning of these talks—nothing to do with Arlene.

My gaze darted down. I hadn’t realized, but she’d kept her hands to herself. It was a small detail to focus on, but it lodged a knot up my throat.

“Just stay away from my chest and genitals,” I mumbled. I hated that I couldn’t use that surge of power I’d felt not that long ago to come across more confident.

“This okay then?”

I held my breath as her hands drifted upward. My eyes tracked each movement. One hand circled around my hip. Her other hand moved up my arm until it landed on my neck. My heartbeat sped up. This was all more intimate than anything I was used to.

A part of me screamed that I should recoil, that we weren’t comfortable with this, but… Oddly, I was. I wanted to be this intimate. I wanted to keep cataloging Arlene’s reactions, to keep teasing her and learning everything about her. And her body was a part of her.

“Yeah.” I bobbed my head up and down. “Um, did you want to eat the crepes first before we do anything else?”

“Oh.” Arlene’s pupils widened before she looked down. Her fingers pressed against my skin for a second, as if she wasn’t sure if they were still welcome there. It was probably a good thing. I didn’t know myself. “Yes, of course.”

There was something else there. Maybe I was out of my game with all the touch and closeness and vulnerability coursing through me. But my alarms pinged at her tone. I just didn’t know her well enough to tell what it was she wanted.

“What is it?”

If I wanted to say I was in control, and hovering over her, that also meant I needed to be able to take a step back and check in with her. Right? I might not be an expert in BDSM affairs, but that made sense to me.

“Can you…” Arlene licked her lips. I wondered if I should lean closer, if it would make things more challenging. Teasing her was fun. “Only if you’re comfortable, but I’ve kind of always had this fantasy of being fed?”

Oh.

Not exactly what I was expecting, though to be fair, I wasn’t expecting anything in particular.

“I can do that.”

It was cute. I couldn’t say I’d ever imagined myself feeding someone, or that it did anything for me, but how could I say no? She’d asked so adorably.

“Okay.” Her nostrils flared, her grip on me tightening for a second before she relaxed again against the back of the couch. “Good.”

“I thought praise was my job.”

It was a light tease. I was just curious to see how she’d react.

She frowned. “Your job?”

I leaned back and turned so I could grab the plate with her crepe and a fork. In hindsight, I should’ve said something about just getting one for the two of us. It was fine, though. I could reheat mine—I’d done it before.

“This feels like a Domm thing, doesn’t it?”

Arlene’s eyes widened for a second. She tried to sit up straighter while balancing me on top. I couldn’t say that I helped her much with that predicament. Turned out, making people squirm was fun.

“Is that—you’re okay with that?”

She swallowed as the words left her mouth. I felt bad that I found a certain kind of pleasure in it.

“Do I look like I’m not okay with it?”

“That’s not an answer.”

I supposed it wasn’t. Before I answered, though, I cut a piece of crepe with the fork and offered it to her. Arlene’s lips wrapped around the fork right away. It made me shiver. I didn’t hide it fast enough, either. This time, her hold on me tightened for a different reason.

“Claude…” She shivered, too, but for different reasons.

I had more experience than her. I’d tested the waters—in the most surface level possible. It had never felt like this. Not exactly. I wanted to lean into the power, to test how far I could take it.

“Yeah?” I prepared another bite as I asked.

“I kind of need you to pinch me right now.”

I chuckled. That was funny. “You’re lucky I’m not a Sadist.”

“Am I?” Arlene retorted.

She was probably not planning on it given the shade of red her face turned to the second the words were out.

I liked that. I wanted her to let go, to say whatever came to mind first. Fuck filters.

“You tell me.” I shrugged. Arlene wrapped her lips around the fork again. It made me want to kiss her again. There was a speck of chocolate above her lip line that called to me. It was just about the chocolate. “I’m happy to go with the flow, but I’ve got a feeling you need more specifics.”

“Yeah.” I tilted her head up before she could look down. I didn’t want her to feel small or to be embarrassed.

I took the chance to kiss her, too. Her breath hitched when my tongue poked out to get that leftover chocolate.

“So, talk to me.”

Arlene licked her lips again. “I guess I don’t really understand what’s in this for you, and I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage, or we’re at different places?”

“Huh?”

She groaned, slouching forward. Her head fell against my torso. There was no thinking involved when my fingers tangled through her hair and kept her there.

“I’m sorry. This is embarrassing.”

“What is?”

Before, I’d just needed a second to process and figure out a way to put my response into words that would make sense. Now I was genuinely confused.

“I get too far ahead in my head, and… We just kissed, but I’m already building this up, and… Ugh.” A mix between a moan and a groan slipped past her lips. “I’m sorry—I can go if you want.”

“I don’t.” That much, I knew at least. “I think… It’s a lot to explain, and I don’t have all the answers.”

That was the understatement of the year.

Arlene snorted. “I bet you still have more answers than I do.”

“Do I?” I mused. Chances were I did, to be fair. I just didn’t know how to transform them into words. “I’m enjoying this. I… I can’t tell you that we get the same type of pleasure from it. I mean, we don’t, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”

Arlene frowned as I spoke. I liked how she focused on every single word and stopped herself from interjecting. It was clear in the way her eyes squinted at times.

“Is it a turn off that I’m stopping to ask about this?”

“The opposite, actually,” I said.

It was true.

“Oh.” I didn’t know it would be so surprising. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” I’d analyze everything and what all my reactions to her meant later, but not now. For once, I was more interested in living in the moment. “We should eat the crepes first, though. And talk. And we can see where to go from there?”

If anyone asked, no, my voice didn’t go that high pitched toward the end there.