I felt groggy and discontented the next morning, but I hoped that my first day of "astronaut training" would at least be enough to keep my mind off of all the things I didn't want to think about.
When we first arrived, Sam welcomed us with a breakfast of genuine astronaut rations - surprisingly edible - and an overview of everything we'd be doing for the day. It started with lighter activities like a mission briefing, fitting into jumpsuits, and our "career assignments." Apparently, "astronaut" wasn't quite the specific term I'd always assumed it to be. Within it, there was a wide range of different skills and specialties. Mathematicians, scientists, engineer - all of them pilots, but from such different walks of life I wondered if any of them had started out wanting to be graphic designers. Maybe my wires had gotten crossed somewhere. Maybe I should have been one of them.
Then I would have actually made enough money on my own to make this whole thing unnecessary. Then I could have actually done this for real, instead of just pretending.
By the end of the day, I was tired and overwhelmed. I collapsed in the middle of the massive bed when we returned to the hotel, closing my eyes against the lights. A few minutes later, I felt the mattress dip as Daniel sat down beside me.
"I was thinking we might go out for dinner," he said. "If you're feeling up to it."
"Sure," I said, because I had no reason not to. But really, all I wanted was to curl up in bed and be alone for the rest of the night.
We ended up going out for sushi, at a five-star place of course. I was actually starting to feel comfortable in places like this. I'd grown to realize that no one was actually staring at me, like I'd assumed. As long as I held my head high and acted like I belonged, everything would be just fine.
Daniel used chopsticks like an old pro. I don't know why that surprised me. When we got back to the hotel, I was feeling in a considerably better mood - whether because of the good sushi or the good sake, I didn't really care. We laughed and joked on the way back to the hotel, tumbling into bed just like a real honeymooning couple. We kissed and undressed each other slowly, and that night I saw him nak*d for the first time. I let my eyes wander all over him, memorizing every inch of his skin. I didn't know what was going to happen when we got back, but I realized it was foolish not to enjoy this while it lasted.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd just relaxed in bed with a lover like this; not in any particular hurry, just letting the moments drag themselves out. I remembered to breathe. Long, slow breaths.
"Where did you learn that thing?" I asked him, letting my nails drag lightly up and down his chest. "About breathing?"
He smiled. "If you ask me, too many men have a fixed mindset about sex. They believe they're pretty much born instinctively knowing everything they need to know, and if they have to seek any kind of outside knowledge, that's somehow a form of failure. I never bought into that. I fumbled through things when I was a teenager like everyone else, but once I grew up, I wanted to really learn how to do it right. So I did what I'd do for anything else - I took lessons from an expert."
"A sexpert." I had to admit, it was a smart thing to do - but the idea still made me giggle.
"Laugh all you want," he said. "But she taught me how to get the most out of every experience. For me and my partners."
"I'm not laughing at you," I lied. "I just…it's pretty cool. Most guys won't do that, like you said. Unless somebody drags them there."
"It's silly," he said, as I ran my hand up and down his thigh. "The odd hang-ups people have about trying to improve themselves, sexually. I mean, why not? We take lessons for everything else. Nobody expects that you'll be a prodigy at anything else without some training."
I got up on my knees and straddled him, carefully, reaching for the condom sitting on the bedside table. "Do you usually tell your partners about your…training?"
"My work speaks for itself," he said, his breath hitching a little when I grabbed his rapidly hardening manhood by the base and squeezed a little.
"And so humble, too," I said, rolling the condom down over his velvety-soft skin.
"To answer your question…" he paused as I sank down onto him, my inner heat enveloping him eagerly. "….no. I don't think…." He exhaled. "….they'd necessarily understand."
I nodded in agreement before throwing my head back and losing myself in the rhythm of riding him. He couldn't tell any woman he actually cared about, because they might shrink at the idea of a man purposefully taking sex lessons. But with me, it didn't matter. With me, there was no risk.
With me? Nothing to lose.
I banished these thoughts from my head, focusing all my efforts on grinding my hips, watching for the particular movements that made his jaw clench and his eyelids flutter. When I purposefully tightened my inner muscles around him, he groaned softly. I'd forgotten how much fun this was, having a man completely at my mercy.
Suddenly, his expression changed. He was refocused. Watching me carefully. His eyes narrowed.
"You're enjoying this a little too much, aren’t you?"
Chapter Twelve
I gaped at him.
"You're enjoying this a little too much, aren't you?"
What on earth was that supposed to mean?
"You're enjoying it too," I said. "…aren’t you?" He obviously was, but I had no idea what he was driving at.
"Being on top," he said. "Literally and figuratively."
I stopped moving. "All right," I said. "Did you…did you want to switch positions? Or what?"
Suddenly, he grabbed onto my h*ps and flipped us both over. I shrieked a little. Once he was on top of me, he captured my wrists and held them above my head, much like he'd done when we kissed the night before. I melted into it. As much fun as it had been to feel like I was in charge of him, this was better.
"There we are," he murmured, in between kisses. "That's the Maddy I know."
"I don't know what you mean," I gasped, as he thrust deep inside of me and sent a jolt of sharp pleasure up my spine.
"You don’t?" He smiled. "The first time I saw you, I had you pegged for the kind of girl just aching for man to come into her life and order her around." I must have made a face, because he leaned in and chastened me with a quick kiss. "In the bedroom, I mean."
"I…suppose?" I managed. I certainly wasn't going to argue with him, as long as he was making me feel like this.
"Of course you are," he said. "I saw how you reacted just now. I felt it. You can't hide the way your body responds to me, Maddy."
I moaned, wrapping my legs around him tightly. I didn't even care what kind of ridiculousness he was spouting. He was filling me up so perfectly, as if our bodies had been expertly molded together.
"Say my name," he murmured, his eyes fixed on mine. They were so dark.
"Daniel," I said.
He shook his head. For all his posturing, though, he was starting to get a little breathless. "Not that one," he said. "What you used to call me before. When I was your boss."
"Mr. Thorne," I whimpered. "Oh...Mr. Thorne…"
It felt surprisingly good to call him that, after all this time, all this forced intimacy. That was how I thought of him still, sometimes - when I looked at him and remembered - he was my boss. He was my boss, for Christ's sake, a man who'd been essentially a stranger to me until I agreed to marry him. A man who was a stranger still, in many ways, even while he was buried inside me on our honeymoon.
"Mr. Thorne," I whispered. He was smiling. A ripple of pleasure went through my chest.
"Are you close?" he intoned, inches from my ear.
I realized that I was. I nodded.
"Don't," he said. "Not until I say you can."
I stared at him. "I can't…I can't stop it."
"Of course you can." He paused in his movements. "It's simple. If you get too close, just tell me to stop, and I'll stop."
"But I don't want you to stop," I whined, feeling helpless. Why was he playing games with me?
"I don't want to stop either," he replied. "But more than that, I want you to gain control of your body. It won't be hard, if you remember what I taught you. Breathe. Be present."
"Fine." I felt frustrated already, but this was obviously something he got off on. I'd try to play along.
I took a deep breath, and focused. I realized that by concentrating, I could actually control my responses more than I'd realized. I might not understand why he wanted to do this, but it was interesting to know that I could.
I started to relax.
Just then, he slid his hand down to where we were joined.
I shuddered as he caressed me with his fingers. "So I take it I'm allowed now?" I said, shakily.
"No," he said, smilingly. But I could see he was beginning to lose his perfect composure. "Not until I say."
"That's not fair!" I felt like I was seconds away from losing all control.
"I never said I was going to make it easy on you."
I glared at him, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open for long. It was like he knew exactly how to touch me. I didn't know how long I could keep this up.
"I don't understand why you're doing this," I gasped.
"You don't?" Sweat was beginning to trickle down the sides of his face. I noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch, and I realized he was actually delaying his own pleasure in order to delay mine. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face. What on earth did he get out of this?
"Please, please," I heard myself say. "Please Mr. Thorne, please…"
"Yes," I dimly heard him growl. "Beg."
"Please…please…Mr. Thorne, please…"
"Yes," he said, after what felt like a thousand years. "Yes. Do it. Come for me."
I heard someone yelling hoarsely, and I realized afterwards that it was me. The pleasure swept me up like a hurricane, and when I landed again I felt like I'd traveled a hundred miles. I was spent and panting, and Daniel was trembling on top of me, and I realized he must have finished too.
He rolled off of me, similarly breathless, collapsing on the mattress beside me. Every nerve ending in my body was shuddering with aftershocks. Never - not once in my entire life - had I felt like this.
Okay, so maybe now I understood what he got out of it.
"Thank you for…indulging me," he said, after a few moments of silence.
I rolled over onto my side and looked at him. "Is that all it was?"
He kept his eyes on the ceiling. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, this wasn't just some whim, was it?"
He looked mildly uncomfortable with my questioning, but he finally answered. "No. Why, does that bother you?"
"Not at all," I said. "Obviously."
He smiled. "Sometimes people don't really…like what they like," he said. "If that makes any sense."
"It does."
I slept much more easily that night, curled up in Daniel's embrace. The next day of astronaut training promised to be more exciting - zero gravity simulations and practice launches, everything we'd need to prepare for the "moon landing" at the end of it. If Sam noticed we were more relaxed and happy around each other, laughing and touching and exchanging little glances more like a real couple, she didn't show any sign of it.