"When I tell you to come, you'll want to close your eyes," he said, his voice wrecked.
And I realized he was holding himself back, too. Seeing his handiwork, he wouldn't be able to
hold back anymore - he'd spill onto my face, my chest...
"Sir," I said breathlessly, "Sir, I think...I think I can. I think I can do it, whenever you
say."
"Good," he said, his hand stilling, gripping himself so hard it must have hurt. His
nostrils flared. "Hold on to that feeling. Wait for my word."
I did, timing my pulses carefully so they didn't spiral out of my control. I still wasn't
sure, and I feared letting him down. I feared what he would do, or wouldn't do, if I did.
But at the core of it all, the whole reason why I was here in the first place, giving up
everything - giving up my control over my own body - was because I knew he'd never really
let me suffer.
His compassion, his love for me - that was my freedom. That was that allowed for this.
"Close your eyes," he whispered. "Close your eyes, love - and come."
My body arced, reacting instantly to his command, inner muscles no longer obeying
me; they quivered and trembled, suspending me on a razor's edge between frustration and
ecstasy, and that moment of terror that I'd fall off on the wrong direction -
Then it happened -
The rush of pure oh God yes, the rejoicing of every muscle in my body, and I cried out,
somehow still feeling the warm wet splash on my chest, as my body's incredible obedience to
him made Daniel lose control. He made a noise that wasn't quite human, and the wild part of
me was lost in rapture with him.
I sagged in my chair when it was over, and didn't move until I felt soft fabric brushing against my face. He was wiping me clean with something. I opened my eyes, a moment later,
and saw him holding his tie, retrieved from where he'd dropped it, crumpled, on the floor.