Author's note: This kept getting longer and longer as the story took turns I didn't anticipate. There's no sex for a long time, and there is much emotional turbulence and development. More buildup, followed by rewards.
BEN
Ben awoke as hot bars of sunlight crawled across his face through the blinds.
Sometime in the night, Nina had nestled near him, curled on her side in the fetal position with her forehead pressing up against his shoulder and a few light fingers resting over his upper arm. He didn't need to be clairvoyant to know what would happen next: she would wake, discover their physical nearness, withdraw... She'll probably apologize, too, he thought wryly, remembering her many apologies, even when there was nothing to apologize for.
He lay there wondering if someone had hurt her, or if it had happened over time, many someones, many small instances, many little cuts to make her feel so whittled down. So cautious and reluctant.
For a moment his chest ached for her and he wanted to hold her close, but her admission and openness from the previous night was far away. Today would be tough, getting in the weeds.
She believed everything was her fault—and that had been his way in. Fine, Nina, he thought. You don't believe I can want you, but you believe I can want to punish you for your perceived misbehavior; and in the midst of that, you can feel free of your mental constraints, because you're no longer in charge. Is that it?
The problem was that her perceived misbehavior was her desire. And that couldn't go on. He understood what it was like to feel ashamed of one's desire, like it was wrong. Like one should shut it down. She could only live it and express it, then, with pressure from Ben. While he had felt drawn to Nina, happy to play his role, certainly enjoying the rewards, it was only a beginning. He knew that now.
The question in his mind was how to nudge this ship around. Would she want that? Would she hide?
He couldn't free her of self-doubt; only Nina could do that. He forced himself to consider that Nina might not want to go that far. Keeping herself walled up, repressed, maybe it had kept her safe. Even if it was lonely. But he'd seen how she had responded-every little movement, every sound, every inch she'd given him-and he knew there was a good chance she would want more. Inch by inch.
Ben reminded himself that he had established his investment, his interest, his willingness to drive and push. It was worth it; she was worth it. She wanted to please him and he was showing her she could. She did.
It's about buy-in, he thought slowly. He rolled his eyes at the buzzword.
She had made a significant admission. Wrapped up in her towel, she had stopped him in the hall, had noticed the space he was giving her and commented on it. And she'd made a point of telling him she was uncomfortable and that she 'didn't mind' feeling that way with him. She didn't like the void, so she had taking a small step to fill it.
That had been one bare sliver of an invitation, among so many others. And that's how we'll do it, he thought. Help her get comfortable with inviting me, trust that I want her to invite me. Only after that can we go further.
Space. Just the right amount, or she'll think—she'll think I've given up, or I'm tired of her, or some other notion she can blame herself for, thought Ben.
That's important, too, he realized. She hurts herself and I want to take over, bring her back. I have to let her take baby steps herself. And watch her like a hawk because she's so damned quiet. We need to address that. She's ready.
Ben was thinking he knew just where to begin when he felt Nina stir.
NINA
Nina began to stretch when she felt her body contact something warm and solid. It took a few seconds before she recalled where she was—and with whom. Uncertain if he was awake or asleep, she gingerly pulled her head back so it no longer pressed against Ben. Her hand was already moving in a stretch; she continued the motion and simply tucked it in front of her.
"Good morning." Ben sounded awake and alert.
"Oh—sorry." Nina pulled back further.
"It's all right. You didn't wake me."
"No, I mean..." Nina flapped her hand but let the sentence die. She was sorry for having invaded Ben's space. In the back of her mind, she knew it would sound silly. He would say something like, 'Don't be,' or perhaps, 'Invading space? What do you think last night was?'
Last night. Nina remembered the heavenly invasion. Under the bright, pure sunlight of morning, she couldn't help but feel like a thin candle flame, weak with shame. What was Ben thinking now? He probably hoped she would get up and move along.
No. That's not fair, Nina told herself sternly. Ben was interested in engaging with her, or in seeing some part of her. But he wouldn't be for long, not when he realized she wasn't what he wanted.
You barely know what he wants, said a little voice in the back of Nina's mind.
It was silent in the room but a cacophony of indecision in her mind. She decided the least she could do was wait and see where Ben tried to lead. Following his lead would be another thing entirely. That wasn't her. She was too difficult. Too much trouble. Too much to bother with...
But Ben had bothered with her.
Maybe she could do it. Just one step at a time. If he really wanted.
If he really wanted. Just the thought of him wanting her—wanting her to do something, wanting something from her, wanting to touch her—god, the thought of his intense desire—Nina felt a heat spread from the skin across her belly down to between her legs. The secret, delicious idea that he could want, and she could please him, pleasure him, made her pussy swell and tingle. Afraid he might feel the warmth that Nina was sure must be coming off her body, she inched away.
As though he could read her mind, he turned to look at her, catching her off guard. The sun between the blinds played on his golden hair and divided his face into strips of light and shadow. He squinted against the glare, his pupils tiny and his irises more brilliant that Nina had seen them. For a breathtaking moment Nina could look at him all she wanted, and he could not look back.
His magnificent eyes, she thought; his strong brow furrowed against the bright glare, his mouth set in a hard straight line, his jaw with its rough stubble-scraping against her body, against her nipples, between the soft wanting innocence of her thighs-the electric thoughts rippled through her mind.
In a moment it was over; he leaned out of the sun, asking casually, "Coffee sound good?"
Just like we're a regular couple, thought Nina. She almost laughed nervously, thinking of the ridiculousness of it.
An hour and a half later, they had finished a quiet breakfast and sipped on the remnants of a twelve-cup pot of coffee they'd managed to demolish. Nina had become increasingly restless, playing over and over again the way Ben had touched her last night, looking at him while trying not to look, not quite being able to believe it had really happened. Wondering if it would happen again.
Desperate for him to say something.
Perhaps she could ask him to—No. She quashed the thought. There really was no way. The only chance was to wait for him.
Inwardly, she sighed. Why, why was she so stuck? What on Earth did Ben see in her? How could he possibly be interested in someone with so little personality, so little spine... She ground her teeth against the familiar spiral of her spiteful thoughts.
The least I can do is thank him somehow, thought Nina glumly. Her next thought was how strange it was to want to thank a man for spanking her—and everything else that had happened. What is it with me and self-reflection today? she wondered, giving herself a shake. I'll thank him. It will be awkward, but I'll feel better about it. I can borrow that casual tone he's been using all morning.
