Theirs (Possession #2)

4. Camila

4

Camila

T he car ride from the class was filled with tension. I didn’t know what I would be feeling, but arousal wasn’t one of them. Our instructor, Mistress Genevieve, was absolutely gorgeous; she exuded confidence and dominance. It was so powerful, it was hard to look her in the eye and not want to kneel for her. What would it be like to have that kind of power and confidence?

The motions of the class were easy to get through, albeit a little uncomfortable, but Luke’s reaction was worth it. Our homework was to go take a kink quiz and try something, whether it be kneeling in submission, tying our partner up or even impact play. It felt wrong to hurt Luke, but Genevieve said it wasn’t about inflicting an insurmountable amount of pain; it was about the dance between pleasure and pain.

My thighs rubbed together as I wondered what it would be like to see our instructor in action. She said she patronized the local sex club and it made me wonder if she participated in group play like Luke said he had seen in New York.

“Are you ok?” Luke’s voice brought me out of my vivid imagination.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, looking over at him.

“Was it too much for you?” he asked hesitantly.

“Not at all. I’m just glad it wasn’t like that video,” I said chuckling.

“Far from it,” he said, furrowing his brows.

“Did you like it?” I wondered why he looked so serious.

“I did,” he said, turning into our building's garage.

“You don’t look like you did,” I said, wondering if he hadn’t liked it.

I could have sworn he was hard a few times.

“No, I did,” he said, pulling into our parking spot, and putting the car into park.

“So…” I prompted.

He rested his elbow on the window, leaning his face against his hand, looking out.

“I don’t want you to do this because you are just doing it for me,” he said. “I realized when she was talking about communicating that just because I want this, doesn’t mean we have to do it. I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but also?—”

“Whoa, I’m going to stop you right there,” I said. “I want to do this because I’m willing to explore this side of you. This is a compromise, maybe I won’t like it, but if we don’t try, how will we know?”

His shoulders sagged, instantly turning towards me. I smiled hoping to ease his worry.

“I mean, I’m not going to lie and tell you I’m not nervous or it wasn’t a little overwhelming,” I said, grabbing his hand. “I want to do this because maybe we will find a little bit of ourselves in this journey, and maybe it’s one step closer to healing us.”

“I feel like I might have done the opposite,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“No, if we can’t be honest with each other, then what's the point of being together?” I squeezed his hand. “So, enough pouting, let’s go get a drink and talk about how hot our instructor was while we take our tests.”

Luke laughed, leaning over to kiss me. I ran my hand through his hair pulling him closer. He sucked on my bottom lip before rubbing his nose against mine.

“Come on, darlin’, let's get a drink and do our homework from our sexy teacher,” he said, opening the door and getting out of the car.

He rounded the car, opened my door, and grabbed my hand as he led me to our building and into the elevator. He pulled me against his side, so my body was flushed with his. He tilted my head up, studying me before kissing me softly. It was times like these I wondered if I could be the one in charge. The elevator dinged when we arrived on our floor and I sucked his lower lip hard. I guess there was no time like the present.

I grabbed his hand, taking the keys from his hands and opened the door. He walked in first, looking back at me with a quirk of his brow. Closing the door, I leaned against it, getting the nerve to do what Genevieve had said to do.

Dominating someone isn’t just bending them to your will, it’s about the trust you have between partners. The Submissive trusts them to take them to new heights and the Dominant trusts the Submissive to be able to communicate. The Dominant is also a caretaker, they control the scene and they need to learn what their Submissive needs.

I shivered, remembering her walking around the class exuding what she taught. Fake it till you make it right?

“I want a Manhattan and you will get yourself a Mexican Mule,” I said walking past him, swaying my hips a little. “I’d also like a dessert.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, waiting until I disappeared behind the wall before getting our drinks.

I sat at our dining table, feeling nervous and weird demanding things. Years of being a “woman” was ingrained in me. Don’t raise your voice, don’t be demanding, don’t be smarter than your husband, serve your man, and be quiet, but smile because if you don’t, people will assume you're a bitch. Sue me for having RBF.

Growing up, my mother taught me that boys were more important—of course, not in so many words—that as women, we took care of the house, we did the “girly things”, like cooking and cleaning. It was strange now because Luke was pretty independent and loved to cook for us. My brain couldn’t fathom that a man was doing women's work, but going to college really opened up my eyes to a whole new world.

Cue in the Disney song except I would be singing about finding myself and learning that I was as important as a man. A couple should work together and no job is masculine or feminine.

I knew we were equals. There was a role I felt like I had to fit into sometimes, and it seemed that if Luke wanted a dominant woman, I would have to push all of my upbringing aside and take control.

“Your Manhattan,” Luke said, setting a glass in front of me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip as he left to bring back some strawberry shortcake that he had made yesterday.

He sat down next to me, studying while he took a long sip of his drink.

“I think we do the quiz and then talk about what you want,” I said, grabbing a fork and getting a piece of the cake.

“Ok,” he smirked, getting up and retrieving our tablets.

We each pulled up the survey she had sent us.

“I don’t know if I could ever be Genevieve, she was…”

“She was sexy as hell ordering us around.” Luke finished my sentence.

“God, was she impressive,” I said, watching the survey pop up. “That outfit she was wearing was stunning on her and her body was gorgeous.”

“It was tight in all the right places,” Luke said. “The way she carried herself, I’ve never met a woman who made me want to get on my knees and crawl for her.”

I looked up at him with a raised brow.

“Hermosa, you know what I mean,” he said, blushing fiercely. “I was just?—”

I smiled. “It’s ok, babe, I know what you meant, but if you really want to get on your knees all you have to do is kneel.”

I took another bite of the cake, making sure to moan. Luke didn’t waste any time kneeling in front of me like Genevieve had shown him. My heart raced seeing him in this position. I laid my heel on his shoulder.

“Take it off,” I said, eating my cake.

He unclasped the heel, taking it off and rubbing my arch. I moaned again as he rubbed up my calf, kneading into my muscles. I reluctantly pulled away, switching legs when he pulled off my other heel without me asking. He kissed the top of my foot making his way up my leg.

I was needy and throbbing, I didn’t know what to do next, so I grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. He moaned, tasting the strawberry cake, his tongue danced along with my own and it was like a rubber band had snapped.

We were pulling at each other's clothes frantically. He sat me on the table with one piece of clothing on, kneeling in between my legs, spreading them, exposing me to him. My thong was wet, my thighs were damp and I whined, hoping he would just dive in. He hooked his thumbs into my thong, bringing it down my legs, and tossed them over his shoulder before kissing the apex of my thighs.

He began to tease me, kissing everywhere except where I wanted him to. I was getting impatient and about to snap when he gave me what I wanted. His first lick made me groan. His second lick swirled around my clit and made me want to close my thighs on his head.

“Luke,” I moaned, threading my hands through his hair, pulling at his strands lightly.

He inserted one finger in me and then two, pumping into me as his tongue teased me.

I put my hand down on my piece of cake, leaning back to give him some space. My orgasm was getting closer and just when I was about to fall apart he stopped.

I huffed in annoyance as he stood up with his cock already out. He stroked himself with a smirk. Leaning up, I grabbed his chin, smearing the cake on his skin. I kissed him, pulling him towards me, lining up his cock with my pussy.

We moaned together when he slid into me slowly. He kissed me, smearing my face with cake and we enjoyed the sweetness together. His thrusts were slow and languid. I whimpered, wanting more.

“Luke,” I said in between kisses, getting more impatient.

I didn’t need to say more. He thrust into me harder, rocking the table each time. My nails dug into his forearms as I held on from the deliciously, punishing pace. He pushed my chest down until I was laying down and he grabbed my hips for more leverage.

Luke groaned and looked up, exposing the corded muscle in his neck. His muscles flexed with each thrust as a light sheen of sweat reflected off his skin.

“Come on, darlin’, come on my cock,” he panted, his southern accent even more pronounced.

“Don’t stop,” I whimpered, as he touched my clit, going in small circles that drove me mad.

I shouted my release, tightening my legs around him as he slammed into me a few more times before finding his own release. He moaned my name and there was nothing sexier than my name on his lips as he came.

He leaned down, peppering my chest with small kisses and we came down from our high. We kissed, giving each other pieces of cake when the table groaned in protest as he stood up.

“We might need a sturdier table,” he smirked, helping me sit up.

The table protested again and before I got off the table it broke. Luke was quick to pull me up as everything fell to the floor. It was quiet for a second before we started laughing.

“Well, sex didn’t go as planned, but we can now say we have broken in our table,” I giggled.

“I think sex was just fine,” he said, bringing me closer to kiss my neck.

I leaned into him, and I wondered if I was ever going to have what it took to give him what he needed, and if it wasn’t, was I going to be enough?