Chapter 26

Ira

Awoman is screaming in my home again. This is getting a bit much.

"Jesus Christ!" Kathleen leaps off my bed. A wild look in her eye tells me she's not in her right mind. Or the wrong one. Or is it left? "What the fuck have I done?"

Forgive me if I'm slow to react. I just had long, arduous sex that included an intense orgasm on my part and accommodating a Domme's ego. I apparently fucked up that last part.

"Katie," I say, pushing myself up and gesturing to the empty part of my bed she abandoned. "Come back."

Ha! Like that's going to work.

"Who do you think you are?" Her finger wags in my direction, and there she is, Kathleen Allen marching back and forth beside my bed in disheveled underwear. This should be hot. Should be. "Oh my God, what have I done?"

She's pulling her hair out. She's clawing my bed like a mad woman. She's running out of energy because, like me, she's recovering from a hard orgasm and needs to be snuggling in bed.

Once again, should be.

"Darling." The pet name feels meaningless right now, but I don't know what else to do. I get up, naked after taking off the Avalon, rounding my bed, and approaching her slowly. "Come get in bed. You need aftercare."

Everything was great for a few minutes. Fantastic. So fucking hot.

And now here we are, Kathleen storming around my bedroom.

"Don't touch me!"

I've barely put my hand on her arm. Kathleen shoves me off her, that radical glow around her hardly erotic. "Katie, please. You know you need aftercare." I've been at this for a long time. Usually, aftercare means rubbing some lotion into skin, sweet words, a snack, and lots and lots of cuddles, depending on how far deep I took someone. With Kathleen, I figured it would be going to sleep wrapped in each other's arms after I finished massaging her skin and whispering how great that was into her ear. "You've gotta let me help you."

"You can help me by getting this shit out of me!"

She wipes her thigh, sneers at what she finds, and flicks it off her fingers. Ouch.

Look, I've got pride. I know it's stupid because the prosthetic isn't real and here I am, all boobs and pussy right now, but it kinda hurts my feelings to see a woman I spent so much attention on just blow up like that. Acting like what I wear to feel erotic is dirty. Like what it did is going to kill her.

I would laugh at her reaction if I wasn't mostly worried about her state of mind.

"Come on." Gently, I divert her toward my bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up."

She's trembling but doesn't fight me. She practically darts into the shower, plopping herself on the bench and almost closing the glass door in my face. I hold it open and reach in to turn on the showerhead.

"See? It's detachable." I hand it to her, hot water pulsing out and getting her lap wet. "Have at it. That stuff is water-based. It's basically weak lube. It'll be all gone in two minutes."

Kathleen snatches the shower head from me and starts rinsing herself off with such determination that I… my feelings are hurt, damn it! I can't let that on. I have to continue to be the Domme in this situation, although she mustn't think that. My lazy sex-infused brain doesn't want to think. Nevertheless, I manage to talk her down from her furious high and help her remove her underwear before it's soaked by the water.

"I can do that for you."

"No," she snaps like a crocodile. "Please leave me alone."

I'm taken off guard because of the plea in her voice. "You shouldn't be alone right now. You went through something really heavy. Aftercare is…"

"I know what the fuck aftercare is!" Tears stream down her face, although for her sake I pretend that it's water from the showerhead. "If you really wanna help, you'll leave me alone. I need some time to think about what happened. Please."

After a brief thought, I step away from the shower, sliding the glass door closed. "I'll check on you in fifteen minutes."

I leave her in my shower, crying and furiously scrubbing her body. This is a shithole of a disaster. One I should have seen coming.

As a Domme, I'm losing my edge. I pride myself in reading women so well that their first time subbing, let alone with me, is always a pleasant experience. Until now.

Or at least I thought she was having a fine time.

There's no use obsessing over it. When I walk back into my room, the first thing I do is find some clothes to wear. Cotton boxers and shirt. My usual sleep fare when I'm not naked. After sex? I usually wanna be naked. I don't think that's a good idea tonight.

Fuck, what a mess.

I open the library door and pour myself a glass of something hard. It's down my throat in two seconds. Saoirse ambles out of her bed, rubs against my leg, and wanders out into the main room with a chirp in her throat.

Kathleen.

I decide to give her the space she so desperately needs. My bed is torn up, but I crawl in anyway. Only then do I realize my brand-new prosthetic has been left unceremoniously on the other side of the bed, and I grab a towel to hide it away from Kathleen before I can clean it.

I pull the covers around my waist as I reach for my glasses and read my tablet.

My thoughts are too consumed with what happened to care about reading.

Katie… I…

Never before has that happened. Then again, never before have I taken on a Domme.

If the roles were reversed, I doubt I would have handled something like that well either. I shudder thinking about it. No way. If another Domme tried to take me like that…

How did she make it as far as she did? Let alone all the way?

I was on high alert the whole time. In tune with her body and what it was telling me. Her body wanted it all. It wanted me to finger her, to lick her open, to fuck her. Every inch of her body had begged for it. Her voice demanded it. Her scent craved it.

It was her everything else that rejected it. I'm so fucking stupid.

When she orgasmed, I thought she had finally achieved total surrender. It was liberating for me as well, Katie. I felt relieved when you moaned so loudly that my chest ached. Your flesh kneaded beneath my fingertips. Your heat beckoned me deeper. Your words, so filthy and desperate, told me how good I felt and how much you wanted me.

I saw the surrender in your eyes. You were home. We were home.

"Hey."

I lower my tablet. Katie stands in the bathroom doorway, hair wet and body framed in a T-shirt I left in there. It's baggy on her. Sexy. Because that's what matters… ugh.

"Feel better?" I ask.

Kathleen takes a step toward me. She's no longer yelling, so that's an improvement.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Ira. I lost my shit."

"You could say that again." I put my tablet and glasses back on my nightstand. "I'm worried about you. Come here."

I pat the space beside me. She's wearing my shirt, so she must plan on staying. Sure enough, her bare feet cross my room and bring her to my bedside.

She's so gorgeous. The light illuminates her golden hair, her skin glowing from the aftereffects of sex. My endorphins call to hers, if she has any left. This is a time for soft kisses, laughter, and dozy eyes. Watching a sub go from high alert to totally relaxed in my arms is one of the best feelings in the world.

I had been looking forward to that with her.

Kathleen sits on the edge of my bed and swings her legs over. I put a hand on them, testing her boundaries. She does not shake me off.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

Her shrug worries me. I can't have her brushing this off. "Many things. Nothing. My brain is full of crap, but I want to sleep."

"You are welcome to spend the night."

"Thanks."

It takes a while, but she eventually pushes herself beneath the covers and curls up against me. I wrap an arm around her, careful to not touch something sensitive. "I'm sorry it happened that way."

She sniffs, and I wonder if I've made her cry again. "I'm not mad at you. Really. You did what I would have. I simply wasn't ready."

She could say that again.

"I guess I'm worried that… you're going to think of me differently now."

My hand tilts her chin up until she's looking into my eyes. "The only thing I think is that you are normal."

Kathleen shivers. Says nothing.

As the minutes wear by, I slip farther beneath the covers and hold her closer to me. She's so fragile in my arms. The tautness of her body begs me to kiss her all over, giving her the care she craves but is too ashamed to ask for.

Her wounded skin is ready for my touch. I make sure I'm the softest person in the world as I kiss her tenderly and whisper into her ear that she's beautiful, clever, and a woman whom I respect and admire.

She smiles against my skin. I don't know exactly what's going through her head, but I hope she can sleep peacefully tonight. Here, in my arms.