I doubt Ian would have left me here, or at least not for long. I don’t see a note anywhere. This room is so soundproofed that I can’t tell if he’s in the bathroom. A part of me doesn’t care.

The other part wants him here right now.

I draw the comforter over my head and pretend that last night didn’t happen. Although I may have showered, I still feel… dirty. Inside, I feel dirty. I know I’m not. I know it’s irrational. Millions – maybe billions – of women do that all the time and feel dandy.

Those women aren’t me.

The comforter tugs down my face. I open my eyes to see Ian, still dressed in his night clothes, looming over me with two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Morning, darling.’

It’s an empty pet name. Even so, I fling back the covers, sigh, and face the fact that today has to happen.

One of the coffee cups is placed on the nightstand next to me. Ian sits on the other side of the wide bed, gingerly pulling himself toward me so he doesn’t spill his coffee, which he sips pensively. What is he thinking? Shit, do I wanna know? Probably not. It’s probably about me.

“You feeling better this morning?”

I avoid answering by drinking my coffee. It’s bitter, as coffee tends to be, but somehow Ian remembered that I like sugar and a hint of cream. He must have heard me tell Anita over and over during those two weeks we worked together.

“I feel better with this coffee, thanks.”

Ian’s lips curl together, and he leans back against the headboard. The one he had me handcuffed to last night. “You had a rough night.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“I’m serious. You wanna talk about it?”

What in the world is this? Of course Ian would be the guy who wants to “talk” in the morning. But he’s a Dom, as I have to constantly remind myself. Apparently a very good one, because Doms know how important it is to keep communication open.

I don’t know why he cares about it, though. Not like we’re doing that again.

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, putting the coffee down and snuggling into his bed.

Likewise, he puts his coffee down on the other side and curls up next to me. Did he brush his teeth already? I don’t smell any morning breath. Mine must be a disaster after sucking dick.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want, but it would be a good idea.”

“I know, I know…”

“Babe… can I call you that?”

My eyes narrow. “I guess. Only here.”

“I get it. You’re not used to subbing, and not in the wide-eye virgin way. I did my best to make you comfortable, but I clearly failed in the end. That’s on me. I’m sorry.”

One part of me yearns to reach out and take him into my arms. Or at least to feel my cheek against his warm chest. Last night, he held me for as long as I could remember, his body wrapped with mine and his hot breath blanketing the back of my neck until I finally fell asleep, tear tracks still on my face.

I feel my eyes. They’re so full of gunk that it’s amazing I can even see.

“You didn’t fail. Like I told you last night, I wasn’t ready for that, even though I thought I was. I should be apologizing for how I reacted. I’m sure that wasn’t pleasant.”

“No, but it was genuine. I should have read you better. But I admit, I’m not used to being with a woman coming from your point of view.”

“Oh, I’m sure. All your subs are either into it already or coming from the most vanilla background possible.” I realize how that sounds. “Sorry. No offense.”

“Why would I be offended? Katie, I want you to be open and honest with me. Even if we never do this again, I don’t want you thinking back on this time like that. Or you know, if we see each other again outside of here. Like for work.”

I want to tell him that he has nothing to worry about. I can handle myself. I’m not going to be triggered seeing him later on.

I want to say that, but I can’t.

“You want me to be honest? Fine. I freaked out because what my body wants and what my mind wants are two different things. I don’t pretend to understand it, but there you go. That’s why you couldn’t read me fast enough. My body was telling you to go for it while my mind panicked at the last minute. I can’t control it, like you can’t control your damned cock when it decides to go crazy.”

“At least you understand.”

“I’m serious, Ian. That’s what happened.”

He puts his hand on my arm, squeezing me enough to make me tense. “I believe you. Now do you want to hear my honesty?”

Not really, but I don’t stop him.

“I think you’re a proud but scared woman. I don’t say that to insult you. Far from it. I won’t pretend I know exactly what you’re going through at any given moment. I don’t have the disadvantages that you do. But…” He pushes some of my tangled hair out of my eyes. His fingertips feel so… liberating. I hate it. “I think you can overcome the uncertainty in your mind. You don’t have to compromise who you really are with me. Katie, the whole point of being with a Dom like me is revealing who you really are. It doesn’t have to be the most submissive kitten in the world. It can be a Domme who takes a day or two out of her month to completely let go of control and indulge in what her body and soul yearns for.”

“You’ll see me differently.” The same thing I said to him last night after I came down from my panic attack.

“In a way. I see you differently now than I did a day before. I see how scared you are. That doesn’t lower yourself in my eyes. That means you’re human.”

“Was I somehow not human before?” I can’t tell if he’s being patronizing or not. For his sake, he better not be.

Ian slowly moves his hand from my shoulder to my neck, to my face. The man doesn’t have the biggest hands in the world, but they’re more than enough to cover my skin and make me feel the strength within him. I want to shudder, but refrain.

I think he’s going to speak, but instead he comes down on me. Kisses me.

There’s no pressure behind it. Just a kiss. A sweet, melting kiss that parts my lips and caresses my tongue. My hand is in his hair. His hands are on my sides, arms curling around me as he brings me in closer. Ian’s embrace is so warm.

I don’t know what I’m feeling. A mixture of relief and anxiety. I’m relieved that I can still feel safe with him, but I’m anxious because my body is starting to ache – and not from my sore ass and thighs.

We make love, but it’s not what you think. It’s not sex. He never touches me below the waist, He barely touches my breasts, letting my nipples peak before brushing his lips against them through his T-shirt I’ve borrowed. There are thrusts coming at me, but he’s barely hard, and I never think he’s going to penetrate me. I don’t want that right now anyway.

Is he reading me?

I read men as a Domme. They are easy to read, very open with what they want. When a man is put into a submissive position, he tends to be the most open book he’s ever been. You’d think it was the same for women, but if you’re a woman like me then you know that sharing your fee-fees is akin to career and social suicide.

Sometimes I feel like such a man.

No, what Ian and I are doing isn’t sex. It’s… lovemaking.

“You feel pretty human to me,” he whispers into my ear, his chest pressing against mine and the strength in his hips keeping me trapped against his bed. “A human who deserves to feel good and feel worshiped.”

He keeps his eyes on me as he descends my stomach, hands pushing up the shirt until I’m completely bare to him. When his tongue hits my slit, I’m ready.

It’s slow, it’s gentle. He never asks for anything in return, and when I come from his tongue five minutes later, I know I’m in deep, deep trouble.

Deep fucking trouble.