Chords that Bind Ch. 16

James came as her pussy twitched around him again, and he fell over her, bracing himself on his forearms. The lightness in his body and the rich affection he felt for his submissive, bled together until it became a completeness he'd never felt before. He gulped big lungfuls of air, as he brushed Cecilia's hair off her face and kissed her.

Cecilia moaned as she felt his kisses. They seemed to be calling her back from wherever she was. She was so warm, sandwiched between the fox fur blanket and James's radiant heat. She couldn't decide if it was too much or just right.

She smiled and finally opened her eyes, airing a soft moan as she tugged her wrists. James tried to look very stern, but if he was honest, he was looking forward to the day when she would tease and pout playfully. He could almost see it when she was unguarded like this. For now though, he was content to catch glimpses of their future.

"Would you like for me to untie you?"

"Yes, Sir," she said in a quiet voice.

James untied the knots above her head, freeing her hands, and unlocking the small padlocks on her cuffs. A look crossed her hazel eyes, and James raised an eyebrow. She blushed, forcing James to wonder if she'd ever overcome her shyness.

"What is it?"

"Do you still want me to be bold?" She asked as she felt her wrists. They felt a bit tender from all her pulling.

James adored how she was able to surprise him. "Why do you ask?"

"Because, well . . ." Instead of finishing her thought, she reached out and pulled him to her, threading her fingers through his thick blonde hair.

Cecilia felt him smile as she kissed him. The entire time she'd been tied up, she wanted to touch him. Now she seized the chance, hoping he wouldn't mind terribly.

James pulled away with a laugh. "Is that your idea of boldness?"

"Yes, Sir," she said with a coy smile.

James resumed freeing her, untying the ropes on her ankles and legs. "Then I thoroughly approve of boldness." He rubbed her legs where the rope left marks behind, souvenirs of her struggle with his knot work. "Tell me what else you're thinking." James loved when she relaxed enough to say what she thought.

"Well, it wasn't part of your expectations, so I thought maybe you wouldn't approve."

"I see."

Cecilia sighed as he worked her knee, massaging the delicate joint.

"I think you could file a spontaneous kiss under courage or honesty, no?"

"Cecilia tilted her head and closed her eyes. "I didn't think of it like that. But yes."

"You see, if you're ever uncertain, you can just weigh an action against my expectations."

Cecilia opened her eyes and nodded. "Yes, Sir,"

"Good girl. Turn around and move your hair."

Cecilia did, and James began to unwind the elaborate bindings that framed her breasts and shoulders. "Go on, Cecilia. What else are you thinking?"

"Were you very angry with me? For lying about the collar?"

James didn't skip a beat. "No. But I don't want your habit of being so accommodating to be a detriment to your health or safety. Or to our relationship. That's why it needed immediate correction. You have a few things that you need to unlearn. That's one of them."

"Oh. Alright."

The last of the rope fell away from her body, and James turned her in his lap. His eyes were bright and serious.

"You remember how we talked about retraining?"

"Yes, Sir."

"This wasn't a punishment." His arms came around her and she felt his hands press the tight muscles in her back and shoulders. "I want to undo everything that bastard did to you. I know that's impossible. But I can show you what a relationship like ours is supposed to be. I want to show you what an actual dominant is. I'm so sorry you were introduced to your own submission the way you were." James couldn't verbalize more than that if he wanted to remain stoic.

"Tonight was an exercise in how you should have been trained. Is it something you still want?"

Cecilia's eyes never left James' as she listened. She never felt more alive than she did when James was dominating her. Again, he seemed to be taking a step back and asking her to choose him. "Yes, Sir. I still want that, and I want it from you."

James gave her a silent nod. His deep exhale spoke volumes. That was when she finally understood; he really would let her go if she asked.

She hugged him tightly, her ear pressed to his chest. His chin came to rest on the top of her head.

James was sure now. He'd felt it before, or flickers of it. The feeling now was steady and unwavering. But all he said was, "I'm honored you choose me."

Cecilia heard the pounding of his heartbeat, and closed her eyes. James held her closer and all she wanted was for the feeling to go on forever. This was the safest place in the world. Too soon, he pulled away. "Come on, let's rinse off and get some rest. You look ready to fall asleep."

He was right. Cecilia would have been happy to drift off just like that. After a brief shower in which they took turns washing each other off, James carried her to bed, throwing her back on to the fox fur blanket.

Cecilia was overcome with giggles. She'd never enjoyed being so small before. But the ease with which he handled her was actually fun. "Do you like that blanket?" James asked. It was a superfluous question, as she was rolling over, humming happily and running her hands over the fur.

"Oh yes, Sir."

"I never use it. I'm never that cold." He climbed into bed. "I'm glad you like it though. Come here."

Cecilia turned to James, bringing the heavy blanket with her. "I don't think I'll get out of bed. It's so soft!"

James pulled her close, amazed that she wasn't overheating already. "That's because it's fox."

He wasn't sure how that'd go down with her. Americans often didn't go in for fur. He wondered if it would upset her.

"Oh!" Still, she made no move to extricate herself from the fluffy blanket.

"It was a gift from one of my parents' friends. Does that bother you?"

Cecilia looked sheepish. "Not really. I mean, maybe, but . . . it's really soft!"

James had to laugh. He reached for the velvet chocker off the nightstand. "Lift your hair for me." He fastened the chocker back in place, happy that Cecilia seemed to be adjusting well. As soon as it was back on, she wrapped the blanket tighter, her head the only part of her visible above the plush fur.

"Okay then little fox. Ready for sleep?"

Cecilia nodded with a happy smile. James flicked the light switch and hugged Cecilia close. About two minutes later he had to let her go, the blanket too warm to sleep comfortably.

The next morning, James woke to find her still snuggly burrowed under the blanket. At least someone was getting use out of it.

***

Cecilia sat between Abe and James at the Royal Oprah House. The air of conspiracy ran thick between the three. It was Clara's big night, she was dancing as Stella in Streetcar and Cecilia couldn't be happier to support her friend. This time, as she sat between James and Abe, she couldn't help but feel protected and wanted. Unlike the last time they were here, James wasn't keeping her at arms' length and Abe wasn't walking on eggshells. She was wearing the grey and pink ensemble James bought her in New York, and couldn't wait for Clara to see it.

Even James, who usually found ballets to be overwrought, enjoyed the performance. This time, the chorographer showed some restraint, and let the music carry parts of the story. The orchestra did a commendable job, but sometimes pre-recorded period music interspersed the orchestration. Clara was gorgeous. She danced as if her very soul depended on it. It was clear that she studied her roll well; the beauty of her dancing was at odds with the ugliness of the relationships that played out onstage.

Abe clenched his fists during one violent scene and James also ground his teeth multiple times at the depictions of force and coercion. Cecilia noticed their agitation.

It wasn't until the after-party when she and James were sequestered together at the cocktail bar that Cecilia ventured to ask James what had so troubled him and Abe.

"I know that the play is fiction, and that the ballet is just a dramatic interpretation, but the way Tennessee Williams depicted Stanley often gets conflated with the personalities of dominant men."

Cecilia never thought about how the real alpha men in her life would react to caricatures of male dominance and thought to change the subject to something cheerier. "Clara was stunning tonight."

"She was. You can be sure Abe thought so, but it's also not easy to see the woman you love physically pressed like that, even in dance, even if it was a dramatic production. She was beautiful, the music was better than most, but the story—it's tragic."

That wasn't the reaction Cecilia expected. "I suppose I was just entranced with the beauty of it. Now that you explain this to me... I see your point. But you're not like that. You're dominant and you treat me... well, like a princess, frankly. I would never compare you to a character like that."

Cecilia's observations made James breathe deep. He was glad she didn't see the evil or manipulative traits of unsavory characters in him. He however, had to live with the fact that Cecilia was next to him because of his irresponsible behavior and men like Lace, who fancied themselves alphas.

Abe seemed to be glued to Clara's side. After watching such an erotic and physical performance, he was loath to let Clara alone with anyone else. He knew intellectually that the show was just a show, but he felt the need to assert his claim to his wife. "Clara, you were breathtaking tonight. But I'll have you know that you belong to me. "

Clara didn't blink at his admission. "Yes, Sir."

"No one is allowed to actually touch you like that, right Clara?"

"No Sir." Clara didn't question Abe's declaration. She suspected that her role would be demanding, but she didn't think it'd be as emotionally draining as this. The more she rehearsed, the more she understood the tragedy. She didn't mind his reassurance in the least and was glad he still felt that way after being together for years.

"That's my girl. I love you sweetness."

As the night came to a close, Clara, Abe, James, and Cecilia huddled closer around the bar, saying very little but understanding the deep connection they all shared and the powerful but subtle energy that shifted between them.