A/N: Here is the second chapter! I wanted to post it yesterday but there were some other things that needed to be done and I only managed to get to it today. The good news is that I finally have my laptop back after a month and a half of changing different devices in order to be able to get anything done so, hopefully, things will go smoothly from now on. Anyway, here is the second chapter!
This chapter jumps back to their first meeting and the beginning of their relationship as well as some other beginnings. You'll see. ;)
There is sexual content in this one, both not explicit and a little more explicit. Nothing too graphic, yet, though. And nothing kinky either. But they are getting there, don't worry. There is also a bit of cursing.
There is some "product placement" in the mention of a mobile game. XD
Allison is an OC that I made up for the purposes of this fic. She will be mentioned again later on, however, so I thought I would bring attention to that.
Thank god it was Friday. The luminescent lights of the police station were glaring back at him from the floor reflecting them right into his eyes to add to the exhaustion of the blur of letters he'd finally gotten rid of. He had to keep himself from giving into the impulse to blink as he feared that was all it would take for him to fall asleep, and he still had the drive home. He was seriously considering getting himself a coffee at that ungodly hour and risking it keeping him awake into the night just to make sure he would be alert enough to make it to his apartment safely.
Of course, he'd get a call right as he'd been parking in front of his apartment building and, of course, it would take him hours to fix the mess that his client's son had gotten himself into that night. He had no idea how he would've done it if he'd had to get up early the next morning after getting so delayed at work.
It was almost midnight and they didn't pay him enough for that. In fact, he'd only been hired by Riven's father because his son was a little piece of shit with anger management issues that constantly got into trouble when he knew his daddy had his back. However, the man had gotten tired of paying loads of money to his elite lawyer every time his son pulled some stupid stunt so he'd hired Valtor who provided the same services for a much lower price since he didn't have the prestige of his predecessor who still acted lawyer to the family when it came to anything but Riven. He was just there to solve the boy's messes.
The only reason he was still tolerating them was because they were, unfortunately, influential enough to impact his career negatively if he refused to jump at the bone they were throwing him. So he got the boy out of trouble every other week while he kept cursing his father for the poor parenting job he was doing. Not that he could be bothered to care when he was in the arms of a different woman every time Valtor saw him which, actually, wasn't that often since he rarely bothered to come and pick up his son. Valtor would have to be the one to drive the boy home sometimes, fussing internally over being made to play babysitter, too, but it was better than getting sued for whatever mess Riven would manage to get himself into if he left him alone.
This time, at least, his father had sent one of the house staff to get him so Valtor could finally head home. Hours after his work day should have been over. All because Riven couldn't get a hold of his pride and had challenged Sky to a motorcycle race and they'd both ended up in the police station for driving without a license. Not to mention that Riven's case was boggled down by Erendor's rage that he'd dragged his son into it, too, the two boys almost like those couples in movies that broke up only to get back together over and over again, except they were doing the same with their friendship. Or were they?
He managed to find it in himself to smirk–even when his briefcase felt like it weighed a ton after the day piled up on his shoulders–at the thought of how Erendor would handle it if his son turned out to be gay–highly unlikely considering Sky was all wrapped around Bloom but Valtor needed his entertainment to keep him sane–and dating Riven of all people. He'd probably have a heart attack and nobody would miss him except for his wife and son. Though, with Samara it would most likely be the power she'd lose without him that she'd mourn and the fact that she'd have to buy her own jewelry. He could only count on his son for true affection which was more than he deserved, really, as Valtor could barely stand the asshole for the duration of a whole party at Marion and Oritel's.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when his path was blocked by a woman pacing the corridor from side to side, the agitation spilling from her like she was an ocean of restlessness. Her purple hair was pulled in an updo that didn't look even a tad disheveled to contrast with her emotional state that was obviously all over the place and was accentuated by the sharp clicking of her heels against the floor that he'd been too consumed in his internal gloating to hear before he'd almost collided with her franticness. The only calm thing about her was the purse resting on one of the chairs that she clearly couldn't make herself occupy.
He could make his way past her without even saying a word. He doubted she'd mind much except for maybe cursing him in her mind to alleviate some of the pressure she was apparently under. It would be the best idea considering how tired he was and how ready his body was to tumble into bed even as there wasn't one. He was sure to forgo dinner as it was a bit late for that and throw himself right into sleep once he managed to make it to the comfort of his own bedroom.
He couldn't just walk past her, though. There was a protest rising in him the moment the thought surfaced that kept spreading until he was suspended in its cobweb and couldn't take another step. There was something in her that was pulling him to her and he couldn't ignore it despite being unable to identify the impulse, which had proven dangerous in his past but drew him to her relentlessly in search of an answer.
"Is there a problem?" he asked, making sure to leave enough space between them for her potential outburst to unfold without crashing into him too strongly. He was certain a glare would be enough to push him over in the current situation.
Her head snapped up and he found himself staring at two suns that had the power to incinerate him but hadn't decided if they should just yet. Her eyes were the lightest brown he'd seen, almost golden, and shone like her life depended on gathering all the light she carried inside her and releasing it into the world. He'd never seen a sight like that before.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice trying to snap free but she contained it despite the frustration that had taken hold of her being.
It was impressive, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Especially when he knew she didn't have any reason to be kind to him and all the desire to just pour out her rage on something or someone. He could see it in the way her body was ready to move, nearly pulling her forward as it was trying to hurl itself in a confrontation but she put in the effort to be polite. Or at least as much so as she could manage currently and that was still a lot more than he could show for when he wasn't kissing up to some filthy rich asshole because his standard of life depended on that and he refused to go back to the misery in which he'd lived before.
"I'm a lawyer and you seem like you need one right now," he said, surprising himself with how much he hoped he was correct in his assumption. Otherwise, he'd have no more reason to stick around. And the surprises didn't even end there as he felt a pang of guilt for the thought when it would certainly be better for her if she didn't need his assistance. But since when did he care what was better for other people?
Her expression mellowed a bit at that, a part of the facade crumbling to have her eyes become glossier with the emotion that filled them, threatening to overflow. "One of my girls is in the arrest and they won't let me see her," she said, a quake in her voice that threatened to shake her entire form with enough force to shatter her and he was amazed she was still holding up.
A mother? It made sense with that softness that immediately sneaked in her eyes and her posture, too, when her attention went to her daughter. And her jumpiness was understandable now that he knew it was prompted by the restless worry for the girl. It still couldn't cancel out that gentleness that was so motherly. Not that he knew anything about that seeing how he'd never had a mother. He'd been tossed aside. But at least the girl in the arrest had it far better than him on that front.
"What legal mess has your daughter gotten into?" he asked as he left his briefcase next to her purse and sat down in one of the empty chairs in a subconscious nudge for her to do the same and explain the problem calmly.
"She's not my daughter," the woman said as she crossed her arms but it wasn't offense from his assumption that drove the action. It was more like... sadness? And he couldn't fathom the sight in front of him when he knew his own parents had abandoned him while the woman standing in front of him was in a police station in that late hour looking after a girl that wasn't even her own child. He'd never believed in God but he was starting to question the existence of angels and whether he'd just met one. "She's one of my students," the woman explained. "She used her phone call to ask me for help."
"What about her parents?" Valtor asked, trying to understand the situation he'd just walked into and why she was taking care of the girl, how she could be so helpful, so... human in a world of leeches, himself included.
The woman huffed. "They're probably drunk, or drugged, or whatever other activity they'd found to help them throw themselves into a state of mindlessness," she said, her voice full of distaste and bitterness. "She can't rely on them for anything. That's why she called me," she said, the sadness coming out again as she clutched at herself like she was trying to hold herself together and he recognized it now. It was compassion, care that drew him to her the same as it had when he'd been unaware of what it was that her worry spoke of.
"Maybe I can help you both. If you tell me what's the problem?" Valtor offered, his mind protesting and trying to bribe him to leave by flooding him with memories of the softness of his bed but it was effectively silenced by the desire in his heart to stay and help that was as unfamiliar to him as the warmth of family. Perhaps the woman–Griffin, as she introduced herself–had managed to awake his own long buried sense of compassion and make him sympathize with the girl who seemed to have it rough despite allegedly having parents and he had to admit it felt good. At least in the few minutes before he learned what they were dealing with. Or rather who, which was the bigger problem.
Allison had stolen a car for a quick ride before she'd abandon the vehicle but she'd crashed it when she'd tried to avoid running over a black cat that had refused to move. Fortunately, she hadn't ended up hurt. Her luck ran out there, however, since she'd been taken straight to the arrest from where it would be hard to get her out.
Now that wouldn't have been such a big problem for him if she'd stolen any random car but she'd been drawn by one of those shiny sports cars that belonged to none other than Erendor which was about the worst timing the girl could've had considering how uncooperative Erendor's lawyer had been on the case with Riven. And now Valtor had to go through another person on his legal team–after already having exerted most of his mental energy and resourcefulness on Riven's case–who'd probably been instructed to see to it that Allison would go to jail for as long as possible for her unfortunate pick of a ride.
That would be a challenge. A challenge he could do nothing about until morning because he needed Marion to talk to Erendor–not because she was the DA but because Erendor was much more likely to relent if she or Oritel talked to him–and that would have to happen in the morning since he would definitely put up more resistance if they woke him up in the middle of the night for the fate of a girl that he wanted nothing more for than to put her away.
He explained all of that to Griffin which didn't help her nerves but the fact that he got her to talk to Allison definitely did have the desired effect. It seemed to help the girl, too, as she calmed down. After she sobbed her eyes out and Griffin held her hand and reassured her it would all be fine. Valtor just hoped so, hoped that his connections would manage to get her out of trouble so that he wouldn't have to disappoint both her and Griffin.
He got coffee for himself and the tea Griffin had requested and she thanked him for the hundredth time when he hadn't even done anything yet. It almost made him feel uncomfortable and he took the chance to change the topic when he saw her eyes closing.
He was surprised that she agreed with him when he told her to get some sleep if she wanted since he was there to watch over both her and Allison. He hadn't expected that she'd trust him enough to accept his words. He knew he wouldn't be caught napping at a police station no matter how safe it was supposed to be since crime was allegedly contained there.
She fell into a nervous sleep, her teeth grinding slightly from the stress she had to be under, and he managed to make it to eight in the morning solely thanks to the Prince of Persia game on his phone–it was an old favorite he'd played when he'd been younger even if the version he was currently going through wasn't quite as engaging as the one he was used to–when he was too tired for chess or other strategical games before he called Marion.
Just as expected, she didn't grumble at him for the early wake-up or the cry for help–rather ironic considering his behavior during her very first attempt to befriend him–but told him they'd have to wait a bit more to ensure Erendor would be in a somewhat good mood. She told him to stay put and wait for her call and he didn't really have any other options which didn't make it any easier to just sit around. Especially when Griffin woke up and they still hadn't made any progress towards getting Allison out of the arrest.
He got them something to eat from the vending machine in the station and did his best to avoid Griffin's questions when it came to why he was helping. He didn't have an answer–not one that made sense at least–and the idea of using his past as an excuse was absolutely detestable so he had to dodge the interrogation instead. He had no idea how Griffin hadn't managed to make her way through all the workers in the station and make them do her bidding with how insistent she was in her questioning.
He was finally saved around eleven o'clock when Marion called to tell him she'd managed to get through to Erendor after almost an hour on the phone with him. He'd relented at last when she'd insisted it would look much better to the press to let the girl walk away in a show of goodwill and consideration towards her background and they could pass it off as a part of his and Samara's pet project where they were trying to present themselves as philanthropists and fund scholarship programs. It meant Allison would be sent in the foster system for the year and a half she had before turning eighteen and she'd have to transfer schools to one they enrolled her into to keep up the act. It was still better than prison, though, where she would've ended up for certain if not for Marion's intervention.
It took a bit more time for the procedure of taking the charges down to kick into motion and be completed but Allison was finally in Griffin's arms around noon and they could all leave the station at last and leave that nightmare behind. Though, Allison seemed to be more than upset still, the news of her new reality sinking in to no better result than poisoning her with fear and unwillingness as far as he could tell. And Griffin wasn't doing much better if the way she was clutching at the girl was any indication. She was losing a child in a sense and Valtor didn't know how to help her.
She stunned him again when she asked him to dinner–that same evening, no less–at a restaurant in the center of the city that he was sure was far too expensive for a teacher's salary but he didn't want to offend her by saying that. And he did want to see her again. Even if a part of him protested against leading himself on when he'd have to forget about her since they had no more business together and she just wanted to thank him as he'd refused any payment.
There was also resistance to the thought that he'd be keeping her from spending what little time she had left with Allison now that the girl would no longer study in her school and taking away the girl's support system since she obviously had only her teacher to count on. But he'd never been good at selflessness–not when he'd struggled so hard not to have his self swallowed in the belief he was worthless that had been forced on him his whole life–so he accepted.
He made it home and to bed but his eyes remained open and watching the memories of Griffin and the drama they'd been through, not to mention that his muscles were restless with excitement for the dinner that he'd do himself a favor to contain. He had to treat it like a business meeting, like his payment for the services he'd provided–and he had to put other efforts into not falling down the rabbit hole of why he'd done that–and not anything special, certainly not a date, but he couldn't find it in himself to belittle his inner experiences when he'd had that done to him his whole life. Even when he didn't know what those feelings he had meant. Or he didn't want to admit it.
He went to the dinner dressed up, looking for one Griffin Sylvane and he found her there, waiting for him with her long red dress and her purple hair spilling all the way to her knees, a smile on her face and softness radiating from her form. He was ready to fall into her universe at that moment and never come out in the real world again as he was sure the depths of her being were far more inviting and accepting.
He greeted her casually instead and managed to make his way through dinner smoothly, making her laugh at one or two of his crazier stories from work and some jokes he had to put some effort into since he was sure offensiveness would never humor her and he had to actually be clever instead. He listened to her stories from work made all the more extraordinary by her disastrous twin friends who also doubled as colleagues–only then did it click that she was the headmistress Marion and Faragonda had had a few confrontations with when her students had stirred trouble with Bloom and her friends, though he couldn't connect the image of the stubborn witch Marion had painted for him with the woman across the table touching the end of his soul that had pried away from his fingers while his attention had been on helping Allison–and got jealous when all her attention was drawn by the little pot with flowers on their table, the upside of which was that he learned she had a passion for gardening along with literature, cooking, astronomy and, apparently, being the kindest person he'd ever met.
She asked him to walk with her under the stars once out of the restaurant now that they weren't stuck inside a dreaded police station and could see the beauty of the night sky. She told him about some of the constellations that were still visible even with all the lights of the city and he found himself asking her what was keeping her still there when it seemed like a cottage in the woods would be the perfect home for her.
Her laugh was startling with its beauty, especially when it didn't let him feel like he was the object of it, and she told him she had her own stars to look after right where she was–her students–and the way she referred to them made him ache to reach and touch the tenderness she seemed to be woven from, bury his hands in it and never let go, just hold on until he was all tangled in her and they became one, so he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets instead to keep from doing something that he'd regret. She wasn't his to have.
He drove her home and walked her to the door of her apartment building as the neighborhood wasn't the safest and he didn't want to let her slip through his fingers until he absolutely had to.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "That's where my thank you ends," she said, "and this is because I want to." She captured his lips in her kiss and he was so entranced he didn't even wrap his arms around her to hold her, the moment over before he knew it but her breath still in his lungs which he was grateful for because she'd taken all of his for herself. "Call me," she said and disappeared into the building as if with magic before he could even wish her good night. Or it was his own brain that had turned down the speed of processing things.
He barely made himself wait a few days before calling the number she'd written on a sticky note in lavender that he'd pried from the inside of his coat pocket where she'd sneaked it. He was apprehensive about it all, his brain insisting she was doing it out of a sense of obligation, that she couldn't actually like him, even when she'd told him otherwise.
He wanted to shut it up but he couldn't, yet he still sought her out. He had to. He couldn't let her go no matter how badly it would hurt when she realized she'd made a mistake and he wasn't worth her affection.
So they went on a date–not that they ever called it that–and then another one, and then more. Theater, cinema, another walk under the stars, ice cream and pizza in that order. He learned her favorite authors, the poems she liked, learned them by heart when she constantly touched the organ with her smile and her laugh and the tender feeling of her hand in his palm.
He told her how he'd always wanted a dog and despite the disenchantment she seemed to show at the idea of a pet, she dragged him to a shelter–the shelter where Allison and her foster sister were working–where they found a little dog, a small female pitbull, that seemed to latch on to Griffin more than to him but she did seem to like them both and his heart broke when they couldn't take her home because he didn't have the time to take care of a dog with his job in the way. He should have known–had known–that it would only cause pain but he'd let Griffin lead him to the shelter anyway.
Griffin told him it was okay and he knew she didn't understand. She told him it was normal to hurt when you allowed yourself to be vulnerable but the risk was worth it and he looked in her eyes to see a reflection of himself in them. She told him that it wasn't all bad, that he could still cherish the happiness he'd gotten from their encounter with the dog, and gave a smile that looked constricted by tears but her gaze was clear when she looked at him and the only heart he could hear screaming amidst the loud street was his own. She told him that he had to be proud because he'd done what was best for the precious little ball of fur and had let her wait for the best home she could get despite it hurting them both and squeezed his hand holding on to him. And Valtor kissed her hard because he knew she understood and she hadn't asked him to let her go yet so he allowed himself to fantasize for a while that he could be the best for her.
They found their way to his apartment and she let him take her clothes off, trusted him with her vulnerability and he wanted to give her an experience she could cherish for her bravery to leave herself in his hands. He was careful, or at least he liked to believe so, and tried to be gentle, slow, let himself explore and savor the moment of trusting another, and let her do the same. He even let her take control and that was the best decision in his life.
His skin was set on fire by her caresses, how feather-light they were in her attempt not to hurt him and not because she could barely make herself touch him with revulsion getting in the way. Her hands were giving, touching him to let him have pleasure and not take his from him. And her mouth was heaven whispering praises at him and moaning out his name as she'd pushed them into oblivion. Together.
And he hadn't been able to disentangle himself from her ever since.
Griffin was on top as she liked to be, her hips moving as she rode him, controlling the pace, and all he could do was lie back and watch the vision she made for, touch her skin and try to offer her extra stimulation. Her moans and the deep breaths she took as if she wanted to breathe in the pleasure of the moment and their closeness were far more enticing than his own orgasm and the sensations it had running through him. They couldn't quite compare to the satisfaction that reached in the core of his soul when she lay spent and sated on top of him and he could feel her heartbeat accompanying his.
He wanted more of it, wanted to hear more of her ecstasy and look carefully to learn how to please her better, learn just what made her arch into his touch and whine for more. He wanted to give her all she wanted and take what she'd give him. He loved feeling all of her skin as she guided him over her body to help him memorize the map of her pleasure, loved feeling her wrap around him when he'd done something, everything, right, loved coming undone for her like a tribute to the affection she'd given him. It was a vulnerable feeling to come apart so freely but he loved it when he was safe in her hands and he knew she held the reins to steer him out of danger.
"Griffin," he spoke before he could think it through when there was no hiding in his nakedness from the thought that struck.
"Yes?" she opened her eyes and focused on him even when he'd interrupted her bliss right as a shiver had been making its way through her body to let her feel all the pleasure she was getting from him. She even slowed down, making him trace his thumbs over her skin as if he was trying to pull the threads of time and reverse it back to before he'd opened his mouth for anything other than groans of appreciation.
"This might sound weird," he tried to glide over the surface of a lake that was much too uneasy for any solid ice to cover its surface and let him walk on it. What had he been thinking? It was a long shot to just assume things like that no matter how close he felt her to his heart and like he knew every part of her. The timing was hardly the best as he'd interrupted their pleasure and she could get offended by his question. And she was giving him that look that had encouragement enveloping him like a protective cocoon that would never let anything happen to him and... oh, god, here we go. "I was wondering if you'd ever... tried..." He breathed out the impulse to growl at his own stupid stuttering. He just had to say it. It was just a question. No big deal. No need to make it so dramatic.
Griffin pulled his hand away from her waist, her relaxed body on top of his clashing with the tension in him but still grounding him in the softness of their shared experience, and clasped it in hers, giving it a squeeze to invite him to continue. It worked miracles when he knew she was holding on to him and he found the words.
"Have you tried being a Domme?" he asked, doing his best to look her in the eyes and not avert his gaze under the fear of judgment swallowing the shiny golden of her irises.
It was Griffin for heaven's sake. She'd never frowned upon any of his questions even when he didn't reciprocate her readiness to answer when it came to personal things, things from his past. She had more than enough respect for him always, even as they disagreed on a topic, which wasn't such a rare occurrence. She was a much more considerate person than him and took into account other people's feelings. She most certainly always took care of his.
"I haven't," Griffin answered, her voice even, but there was something off about it. It was too short and while she was usually concise and straight to the point, it wasn't like her to leave it just at two words. "But I... " she started before she bit her lip in a self-imposed pause.
It was her turn to be nervous and Valtor was quick to return the encouraging squeeze she'd helped him with just a few seconds ago and let the thumb of the hand that was still at her waist stroke soothing motions into her skin while he held on to her with all of his support. It was his place to help her find her words. Especially since he'd dragged them out of the passionate haze of their bubble and into that topic.
"I've wanted to," Griffin admitted, moving her fingers just barely as if to get a confirmation they were still entangled with his and he was there. "I've been curious about it, found it intriguing. And I've thought about exploring. There was a good chance I'd like it considering how fast the thoughts got me going," she said, her eyes losing some of their razor focus and a slight hitch making itself known in her breathing to pose the threat of distraction as it drew his gaze to her breasts.
Valtor concentrated on her, on the flow of words he knew came out when she was being open and honest. It made him fear breathing lest he blew away the knowledge that she trusted him to share all of that with him without the need for shame. He would never shame her for the strength and bravery to give him access to her sacred thoughts and she seemed to have gathered that despite his guarded and closed-off demeanor.
"I never found someone I felt comfortable sharing that fantasy with, though," she admitted, the shine in her eyes losing strength at the memories of loneliness. That was what she'd been through when no one had made her feel safe enough to open up to them.
"Well, I was thinking that we can... try it together?" he asked, trying to focus on her and not on the hope that had sneaked into his voice. He didn't know what it was doing there but he knew he couldn't get distracted with it right now. He had to think about Griffin and her comfort. "If you trust me enough?" he looked into her eyes as he hung on to his trust in her unspoken response to hold himself out of the pool of fear and dread, and rejection, that she could drop him into with just one word. He could swim but he doubted that would help if he was all tied up in his insecurities without her to keep him above the surface.
Her expression changed with the deep creases confusion left on her face when it laid its hands on her and it was a striking sight with how rarely it happened since she was always following everything in a situation. He hadn't managed to protect her from it now, though.
"You'd be willing to do that with me?" Griffin asked, her hand closing around his into a death grip and so did the other one that was now on his other wrist, and the surprise on her face was even worse with the reminder it brought.
He hadn't dared tell her how much she meant to him, hadn't confided in her the deep trust she'd threaded through his heart without ever hurting him while doing so, hadn't even taken the step to clarify the status of their relationship when he was scared it seemed more than it actually was in the inside of his empty mind that was just begging to be filled with affection. And when she hadn't said anything–of course she hadn't as she was so respectful of his boundaries and had already made all the moves to get them where they were–he'd just left it at that risking to lose her when she got tired of waiting for him to accept she wasn't letting go of his hand.
"Why wouldn't I be?" He went for a soft smile and raised a hand to run through her hair but she was still holding on to him, clutching at his flesh as her gaze gripped his and held it in place shooting pain straight to his heart with the tears that refused to come out but he could still see in it. He needed to soothe whatever was running lose in her mind and hurting her enough to draw them out but he didn't know how.
"Are you sure you know what that would mean?" Griffin asked, her voice grave as if their lives depended on his comprehension of the situation and it hurt him even more. Not because she'd offended him by checking if he knew what he was doing but because she didn't trust that he could want to trust her. It was like looking into a mirror and he knew the pain of those thoughts bouncing around his head. He had to keep her safe from going through the same. "You'll have to trust me completely. And we'll have to do a lot of talking, no shying away from things, just total honesty," she was still looking at him but he could tell all she was seeing was the inside of her own mind and what was hiding there.
"I'm always honest with you," he said to bring her back to himself, for once not because he was selfish enough to hoard all of her attention for himself. And his claim was mostly true since he didn't lie to her but he did prefer to keep some things to himself and not share them. "And I'll do my best to be more open," he promised readily.
"You'll have to trust me to take care of you and you have to know that I won't be perfect. I don't have experience so I'll make mistakes and I'll have to learn during the process since I have no idea how all of this is done," Griffin was rambling at this point not even paying attention to his words and that was concerning with how deep she must have sunk into her own head. He'd seen it happen a few times and that was far too much already.
"Griffin," he interrupted the downpour of words and pulled his hand out of hers, cupping both her cheeks while she still held on to his wrist. "I know you'll do great. You're always so attentive and so careful with me. And I don't expect you to know everything instantly," he soothed as he moved his thumbs over her skin to smooth the tension out of the muscles underneath and free them from any fear. "We'll figure it out together," he offered and was relieved to see her eyes softening and a small smile breaking out from under the tears that had welled up at this point. It was timid but it still seemed to pull the water in her eyes back no matter how reluctant the clear liquid was to relinquish its hold on the shine of the gold beneath.
"You're sure about this?" Griffin asked as she held on to his forearms now but he didn't mind. She could clutch as hard as she liked if that was what she needed to keep herself steady, but her grip had softened, offering him some respite, too, when he knew he could help her relax at least a little. "You're sure that you want it, that you want me to be your dominatrix?" The word sounded somewhat harsh with how untypical it was, how unfamiliar and, therefore, scary the whole concept seemed. But they could make it their own if they really wanted.
He knew what he was getting himself into by leaving himself in her hands. And she could probably tell, too, as she was still sitting on top of him, his erection inside her as it throbbed in need.
He was more than thrilled about getting to explore what an arrangement like that could offer, considering he hadn't felt any resistance at the thought of giving her all control. He'd seen what she could do to him in the bedroom. He'd seen her mindfuck and her roughness and all the care that had kept seeping through even in those times as she always made sure to bring him as much pleasure as she could. He knew he'd be safe with her in charge. And he'd be glad to be all bound in her instructions to please her and give her as much as she was giving him. It sounded like a match made in heaven. Rather appropriate, having in mind his course of thought when he'd first met her.
"Yes, I am sure, Griffin. As sure as I've been about anything in my life," he said and that would've meant more to her if he'd acquainted her with his life as closely as he had with his soul, but the bits she knew still gave it enough impact if the touched look she caressed him with said something.
"Okay," Griffin nodded, her hands rubbing over his skin, most likely in an attempt to soothe herself rather than him. She took a deep breath as if preparing to dive into the ocean to never come out again. "Where do we start? Like, how will this work? I mean..."
She closed her eyes and exhaled her frustration before she licked her lips, maybe collecting herself but distracting him and beginning the test of how well he could concentrate on what he had to do and not what he wanted as he only wanted to kiss her lips now–perhaps get to have that orgasm he'd put on hold from her mouth–but he had to focus on the conversation. It was what was important now.
"Do we assume our roles whenever we're having sex or do we do it only when we've agreed on it beforehand? How permanent do you want this to be?" Griffin asked.
He hadn't really thought about that. He'd never thought he'd get that far into the idea to be honest. Not that he'd thought about it before he'd asked her except maybe subconsciously but that didn't really count. And he didn't have much idea where to start on the topic despite having some knowledge about it. It just wasn't the same when he had to go about it in a structured manner and think about building that dynamic. But he'd have to if he wanted it to work and he did. He was burning with curiosity to see where exactly that idea could take them.
"I don't really know," he admitted as he let his hands down to her shoulders pressing and rubbing there to help her relax and draw his attention to solving the matter at hand, not to getting distracted by the images that floated in his head. "But how about we make it permanent and if either one of us feels like something isn't working, we communicate? Isn't that how this is supposed to happen?" Valtor asked, trying to keep his voice calm as he felt anticipation grip him and his movements over Griffin's skin became more absent-minded at how ready he was to surrender to her completely.
It was obvious that neither of them had any clear idea how to navigate these unfamiliar waters but all that was left of his mind was the possibilities of her using all that control he was readily putting in her palms and he had to hold back a moan. He had to focus on the business before the pleasure if he wanted to convince her in the seriousness of his intentions.
Griffin's teeth worried her lower lip for a few seconds before she nodded. "Okay. How do you want to start?" she asked, the tension in her body unrelenting and yet, he couldn't help but think it wasn't just nervousness but also excitement. Could be a gut feeling or his own want clouding his judgment. Or it could be the fact that he could feel her get wetter at the thought.
"That should be up to you, shouldn't it?" he asked playfully, trying to get her to relax and fall deeper into her desire along with him. All it seemed to do was the exact opposite.
Griffin stiffened, her gaze running from his as if chased by the shame that she couldn't instantly figure out how to proceed, as if she'd failed him already and it was tearing at his heart when it was just proof she would be great with her consideration and devotion to guide her. And he wanted to tell her all of that but he didn't think she'd believe him. He had to show her.
"Let's give it a test drive," he offered as he let his hands grip at her waist to keep her steady during the wave of resistance he knew would wash over them as she panicked.
"Right now?" Griffin asked, her voice rising high as if it was trying to pull her out of his hold on her and her eyes widening so much he was afraid they were going to fall out of her skull.
He knew he was laying all the burden on her, all the responsibility for him, but he also knew she could do it. And he would never force her to if she decided she didn't want to. But they had to try it to know how they'd both feel. He didn't want either one of them missing the opportunity for something incredible to happen to and between them because they were afraid. They had to follow the advice she'd given him and let themselves feel.
"Yes," he said, cupping her face again to have her look at him instead of trying to escape. Perhaps it was selfish but he needed her to try and not turn her back on him like everyone else had always done. "Let's just try it, Griffin. Just once. If you don't like it, I won't push you for more, I swear," he let his heart pour it all out in his eyes, all the reassurance and encouragement he didn't know how to give her otherwise.
"I don't want to do something to hurt you," Griffin whispered, keeping her hands off of him as if she was afraid of laying them on his being when all she'd ever done was show him gentleness, teach him what it felt like since he'd never had it before her.
He hated the sound, for it was an echo of the hisses in his own mind that made him afraid of what he could do to her if he let himself be the monster he knew he was sheltering inside. And just the thought of her having to face the same war in her head was too much. He didn't know how to help himself but he would sure as hell find a way to help her. He wouldn't rest until he had. He could give her proof of how amazing she was if he could get her to go along with their idea. He'd give her all the proof, verbal and physical, when every part of him she touched melted in her tenderness.
"You won't when we're together in this," he said, glad to see the golden getting some of its shine back again when his words entered it through the look they shared and the tension rolling off of her shoulders and falling off the bed to let them breathe freely. It was a sight he'd cherish forever when he'd managed to help her get rid of some of the burden. Especially when he knew she was ready to do the same for him.
To be continued.