The hard truth

The hard truth

Electra

When Bastian said that we would do something else during the night, I didn't have an idea that he meant something totally different from our usual activities.

After the shower session and his very serious statement about me being the best woman in the world at giving blowjobs, he sat me down on the bed and let me watch him as he lighted candles and turned off the lights. The smell of strawberries filled my nostrils and a small smile found its way into the corners of my lips because, in the last few weeks, this happened to be my favourite scent.

I followed Bastian with my gaze wherever he went, and I raised my eyebrows when he took off the wardrobe and sat down in the middle of the bed, motioning for me to join him. I slowly undressed myself, plopping back down, blushing a little because of our nakedness. He saw me without clothes many times, but this felt unusual.

"Have you ever heard about tantra?" He asked in a soft voice, sitting cross-legged, putting his hands on his knees. My brows shot up again as the word sex popped up in my mind, nothing else.

"Yes." I nodded, mirroring his position. "But I was never interested in it," I added truthfully, curious about what he was up to. I would do anything sex-related with him. Wait, scratch that. I would do anything with him; it didn't matter which field it would cover.

"Well, I would like to test our sexual energy and learn something new about you and also about myself," he explained with a small smile, and I blinked a few times, not sure that I understood him correctly.

"I'm pretty sure that our sexual energy was tested a few minutes ago," I pointed out, frowning, but he only flashed me a toothy grin and took the remote controller from the nightstand. I didn't know from where, but very quiet piano music was heard, and I inhaled a deep breath. He was serious about this.

"Close your eyes, princess." Surprisingly, it wasn't a command and his gentle tone sent shivers down my spine. My mind was very cautious about this game, yet my body already liked it. So, I slowly closed my eyelids, listening to his next words.

"Enjoy the music, sweetie," he continued, and my mind drifted to the sounds that echoed in the room. "Imagine the taste of strawberries; smell them with your nose; and most importantly, focus on your breathing. Relax and forget what angered you, upset you or made you cry. Shut down that annoying voice in your head and just breathe."

I did as he said, and I loosened my belly and shoulders, inhaling and exhaling in an even rhythm until I realised that, after probably two or three minutes, I instinctively synchronised my tempo with his. All that was heard in the room were the tones of the piano and the thundering of my heart. I should have relaxed, but instead my body was filled with excitement. My perception through other senses than vision intensified and I literally could taste the strawberries in my mouth. It was weird, but I really liked it.

For some time, my mind was overflowing with images of my latest experiences which were the most intense for me, but eventually the only one picture stayed. No matter how much I tried to get rid of it and concentrate on the pleasant music and Bastian's presence, it wouldn't go away. Peter, with his playful smile and boyish charm, was hunting me. I tried to justify my decision to hide this from my man, but I couldn't. I was just a cowardly, scared little girl who was afraid of losing the only person who made me feel whole.

"Open your eyes, princess," Bastian whispered, interrupting my inner battle. I so wanted to be honest with him, but every time I looked into his face, I couldn't make myself do it. I couldn't break his heart.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice was soaked with worries and I had a hard time to suppress a loud sob. I dreaded the moment when he would find out about my adventure with his younger brother.

"Electra, talk to me. What is going on?" He leaned closer, cupping my face with his hands, and I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. The boulder in my chest was unbearable yet the fear was stronger and I remained silent.

"Baby, you know that you can tell me anything," he muttered, trying for eye contact, but I successfully avoided it. I was staring at my feet, ashamed of myself. It was one of the worst situations of my life. The only thing worse was when my mother found out about my secret dream of becoming an artist. I'd remember the humiliation she'd inflicted on me until my last breath.

"Look at me!" Bastian commanded sternly out of the blue, and my body reacted instinctively. I raised my head, locking my gaze with his. My palms trembled and my heart was beating so hard that it almost burst out through my ribcage.

"Come here." He stretched his arms, taking my hands gently, and he pulled me closer. I didn't fight him when he sat me on his lap and I wrapped my legs around him. We were naked and there was nothing between us but a few inches of free space, yet I felt very disconnected from him. Maybe it was because I couldn't look into his eyes. I was embarrassed that I again picked a lie instead of telling him the truth. Somehow, I knew that the worst part of that dreadful conversation wouldn't be about the sex with his brother but about me choosing the wrong thing to do.

"You don't need to speak if you don't want to, sweetie," my gorgeous man whispered, gently stroking my back with his open palm. "Just calm down, that's all."

I took a deep breath. My lower lip quivered when I tried to fight the tears. I was looking at his naked chest, squeezing his shoulders, doing my best to slow down my erratic heartbeat. However, I knew very well that the only way out of this was to talk to him. I believed that he would forgive me. He wasn't a monster and I had good reasons for it. Yet the basis for bdsm relationship was trust, and since the beginning, I was testing Bastian's limits. It was just a matter of time when I crossed the line.

"I'm s-scared," I stammered, and after a few moments of silence, my voice broke into sobbing.

"Scared of what, baby girl?" He asked, moving his palms soothingly up and down my arms, because I put my hands on his abdomen, avoiding eye contact again.

"That you'll hate me," I replied, wiping my cheeks and releasing a deep shaky breath.

"Hate you?" He echoed, clearly surprised. "Why would I hate you?"

He enveloped me with his arms, pulling me onto his chest, and I hid my face in the crook of his neck. I wanted to enjoy this closeness as long as possible before I broke our connection. Because no matter how much I tried to console myself that everything would be okay and that I slept with Peter before I even met Bastian, I wasn't honest and that was the real problem.

"I don't know what is going on, princess," Bastian whispered into my ear, brushing my wet hair with his long fingers. "You're using very serious words. I need an explanation."

I took a deep breath, gathering all my remaining strength, and I pulled away from him. He allowed me to move only for a few inches so I could look into his crystal blue worried eyes. God, he was handsome and loving and caring. How could I exchange all of this for one lie? Why was I so stupid?

"I think you'll release me from the contract," I mumbled, licking my lips, preparing for the inevitable.

"Electra, stop saying what I will do and tell me what you have done." It was clear annoyance evident in his voice. He was losing his patience. The best I could do was to come clean before he got angry.

"I crossed the line," I stated, and his thick black eyebrows shot up. "I lied again and it's serious."

"Okay." He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, watching my face while he slowly released it.

"Before you continue," he started softly, taking my hand into his. He opened my palm and pressed it against his chest, where his heart was beating. I bit my tongue, swallowing the huge lump that had formed in my throat. "I need you to know that there is only one thing which would make me consider the instant termination of our contract and end our relationship, and that's infidelity. You're not going to get away from me anytime soon if you didn't cheat on me."

He squeezed my hand on his chest, moving it to his lips and kissing my palm. My fear slowly faded away, but the pain stayed. I felt like the worst possible choice for him. He could have had a much better woman. He could have been with someone who wouldn't choose to hurt him more. My mother was right; I didn't deserve to be loved. Everything I ever did was to destroy the bond with everyone who cared for me.