22. Seth

SETH

The sun set a while ago.Jack, Abigail, and I are out on the beach surrounding a dying fire.

Bridget retired an hour ago. She was spent.

Jack and Abigail think it's because of her migraine, but I know the truth.

I brought her pleasure she'd never dreamed of. I'm smug over that, I'll admit it.

"I could sleep out here." Abigail leans back in her chair, pulling her sweater tight around her.

"You'd freeze to death," Jack says.

She scoffs. "It's not the desert. I just need a few blankets. That's all."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Okay, here we go."

He goes to Abigail and hauls her out of the chair and over his shoulder, not paying any mind to her playful kicking and screaming.

"Let me go, let me go!"

"Nope, you're going up to bed. Now. None of this sleepin' on the beach talk."

"I am one with naturrrrreee." Abigail's red hair swings as she hangs over her brother's shoulder.

Jack chuckles. "You good out here, Seth?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

"Say goodnight." Jack heaves Abigail further onto his shoulder.

Abigail lifts her head. Eyes mere slits. "Goodnight."

I watch as Jack carries her down the boardwalk and into the house.

Then, I look through the dying fire back at the ocean.

The godforsaken ocean.

It's no wonder I crossed the boundary Bridget and I discussed as soon as I did. The second I set eyes on the beautiful terror of the ocean, I needed something to ground me.

Not something.

I needed her.

Needed something to tether me to this moment and time, not send me back all those years ago. Over a decade.

It's been over a decade since I lost my dad.

Nearly fifteen years, actually.

And being down here, I am reminded of him at every turn. The cabinet of fishing gear that hasn't been used all this time, his favorite anchor-printed napkins.

The ocean.

I thought I had gotten good at dealing with the grief, but being here has made me realize I never really dealt with the grief. I just put duct tape over its mouth and told it to shut the fuck up.

I never anticipated it would wriggle free of its binding and start yelling all the things I've needed to deal with since losing him.

I should have known that coming back here would dredge up all these feelings. But I thought maybe by being here with Bridget, I could rewrite the memories of the last time I was in Key West. Rewrite what this place means to me.

However, I haven't been here with Bridget. Bridget is mine, yes. But if no one knows except me and her, is it even real?

I drop my head, clasp my hands together, and try to breathe.

We missed so much of life together, my dad and me. Missed out on making so many memories. Never saw the success of my company, will never see me fall in love, or have kids, or anything like that. And if I keep up my life of secrets, no one will ever know anything. No one will ever see how happy I am. Because for the first time in so long, I'm happy.

With Bridget in my life this way, I'm so goddamn happy.

And I'm tired of keeping secrets.

I'm not sure how long I sit outside listening to the surf cascading across the shore. Long enough to get my wits about me. Long enough to know what I have to do.

I letmyself into Bridget's room. She is my sub, but over the time we have spent together, she also became more. And I need her now.

Thankfully, she is awake, and I don't scare her. She's ready for bed, tucked under the covers, an e-reader in her hand.

"Seth…" she says in a soft voice upon my arrival.

Her collar is around her neck.

My insides warm to know she hasn't taken it off.

I shut the door behind me. Tight. Lock it.

Bridget lifts herself onto her elbows.

Her thin nightgown hugs her breast so tight I can see her nipples pricking through the fabric.

"Do you need something?"

I came here to talk. Didn't come here to dominate or to have her. I came here to tell her. Tell her what I need from her. Although this need is not related to our training. This need is so much more than that.

"Are you okay?" Her dark brows furrow.

I can't do it. Can't say it. I don't know how to use my words, only know how to use my body to communicate with her.

She was right at the bar the other night. We don't know each other. Not really. But if that's true, how come I feel closer to her than anyone else in the world?

I don't answer her question. Instead, I go to the bed and grab the edge of the covers.

Bridget's eyes dip down to my hand, then rise to look at me. Breath shallow in her chest. She can tell what's coming.

I rip the covers back, exposing her whole body to me. Her beautiful, luscious body.

Her skin looks luminescent against her lace-trimmed, black nightgown.

And her curves laid out on the bed before me swoop and swerve in such a tempting way.

There is no way I'll be able to resist her.

Maybe she will understand me without my words. A foolish thought. But…

"On your stomach." My throat is constricting my words because it knows that's not what I came here to say. What I wanted. What I needed.

It doesn't feel safe to do anything else, though.

Bridget follows my instruction.

Her dark hair drapes across her back.

"Ass up." I pull a tiny tube of lube from my sweatpants pockets.

She pushes her ass toward her heels, the thin fabric taut against her backside.

"Show it to me," I say.

As she pulls the nightgown over her ass, I realize she isn't wearing underwear. Her ass cheeks spread apart to reveal her glistening pussy and the puckering hole I pleasured earlier today from across the table.

I touch her ass cheek. "You know what I want, right?" Not what I need. But it might be enough to ground me.

"Yes, Sir."

Sir…I love it, but this time it falls flat.

I want to be Seth to her today. I don't know how to say that to her, so I keep my mouth shut, and squeeze a squirt of lube into my palm.

I coat her hole and surrounding areas liberally to make sure there's no threat of injury.

I coat my fingers too and begin to glide them across her opening until she relaxes enough for me to slide them inside.

Bridget's body tightens.

"Relax around me…"

The way she clenches on my fingers is enough to get my cock hard to a raging degree. I'm already imagining how it would feel to be inside her tightness.

"Touch yourself," I say with a ragged breath.

Bridget reaches a hand under herself to start toying with her clit. Relaxes her even more.

We go on like this for a bit as I scissor my fingers inside her to prepare her for my girth until Bridget starts to moan.

I withdraw my fingers. "Don't stop…touching yourself." I hurry to yank my sweats down my thighs.

Bridget doesn't, begins rocking into her hand, moaning.

Fuck, I need her, I need her so bad.

I grab my cock, stroke it with a squirt of lube to make sure I'm as slippery as I can be.

I kneel on the edge of the bed, press the head to her last virgin hole.

I pop in more easily than I expect. The toy and my fingers must have loosened her enough.

Her head flicks back, dark hair flying. "Oh, fuck."

"Easy…" I press a hand to her upper back. Not harsh, but insistent. "I'll go slow."

The tightness is incredible, the way my cock squeezes into her.

And though the pleasure is sublime, it meets a different feeling in my stomach.

Betrayal. Of myself.

I didn't come here to fuck her. At least not first. I came here to tell her what I feel. What I need her to know.

I'm a coward. I can posture and dominate her all I want.

But when the rubber hits the road. I'm a fucking coward.

"Please, more, Sir."

I snap back into reality.

Have to maintain composure. Have to hold on.

I inch further in, thrusting slow and shallow inside her, letting her body guide me in deeper when it's ready.

"Oh fuck, yes," she groans, pressing her face into the bed, her muscles relaxing.

Bridget's making sounds I've never heard before.

Bringing her pleasure means the world to me. So, I keep going. Try to lose myself in controlling her. In claiming her.

However, it becomes clear with every building block of pleasure inside me that I'm not losing myself in the control.

I'm losing control.

Not of my body, god no. It would never be that bad. I'm good with the control of my body.

No, it's the emotions and thoughts fluttering through my brain. Confusing me. sending tears pricking into my eyes. My head is starting to hurt with the loud cries of the past. The empty and brittle vacuum of my future.

If I continue to hold everything in, I'll never get anywhere in life. Who cares about the money and the power without anything to show for it? Without any world to go home to.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Bridget moans.

I'm not saying anything, not giving her anywhere to pour her affection for me.

I keep trying to form words, but nothing comes out. I just…fuck her.

She feels amazing. And yet, I feel nothing. So lost in my own head that the euphoria inside me pales in comparison to the chaos of my mind.

Bridget begins to thrust her hips back to meet mine, taking me as deep as I'll go. "Yes, yes, yes, please, Sir. Please make me come, Sir."

I place my hands on her shoulders to press my cock as deep as I'll go over and over until she cries out, a sound unlike anything that has ever come out of her mouth.

Her body trembles and quakes so much it's impossible for me not to come too.

Except I'm so numb I don't even feel like I've come. I know I've released into her, know that I've given her all of me.

And yet…

My head falls forward. And I break.

Or… I don't break.

Breaking is dangerous. I need to be in control.

She is my sub. She depends on me to be in control and know what's best for her. For both of us.

I don't know if I've ever known what's good for me, though.

Despite trying to suppress it, I let out a sob and a few tears fall from my eyes.

I try to catch them, but they land against Bridget's back.

I retreat from her body as fast as I can without hurting her. I pull my sweatpants back on, hiding my face in my hand as I take a step toward the door.

"Seth, oh my god, did I hurt you?"

"No, I have to–I have to go, this is–"

Bridget's hand lands against my waist.

I have no power against her.

I let her hand guide me back to the bed.

The backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress. I sit down. Collapse more like it.

I have no strength to make any other choice. A torrent of weeping thrums from me. I press my face into my hands and cry.

What Bridget doesn't know as she cradles me, leans herself against my back, is that her closeness is making me cry even harder.

I cry for so many things. For my father, for the person I was before he died and the person I was for the past ten years, intimidating Bridget, making her think I hated her.

I weep for everything I want and don't know how to ask for.

All the while, Bridget remains beside me. Unafraid that her Dom has lost control.

Her arms and legs loop around me. She presses her lips to the side of my head. "It's okay. It's all okay. I'm here, Seth."

And the second my name leaves her mouth, I lift my head and let it fall against her shoulder. My heart has been expanding all this time, and I am just now feeling how big it's gotten in my chest.

I've tried to fill up the hole my father left inside me with concrete. It has weighed me down, kept me from letting anyone in.

All it has taken is a single chink to ruin the infrastructure I laid down as an act of desperation.

Bridget has broken me open.

And I can no longer pretend.

I want her in every way a man can want a woman. Everything be damned.