We argued, but it was playful arguing. I informed Lucent that I just couldn't trust his assessment of a properly fitted condom unless I saw it in use, and I needed to insure it worked properly. That's all. He laughed and told me that he saved them for special occasions. I pretended to pout and said that I should be a special occasion. He agreed with me.
Blushing, teasing, tickling, laughing, cuddling, kissing.
Sam arrived with our food and drinks, leading them in on a cart. After setting everything up, he left Lucent and I to ourselves once again. We ate and everything tasted as delicious as I remembered. Lucent kept me in his lap, too. This suited me wonderfully, because I didn't want to leave his lap.
He fed me, also. I never even asked, but he nodded and made a gentle noise and tipped his sandwich towards me. Smiling, I opened my mouth wide and took a bite. It almost felt like we were in the library again, trapped in our little room, the two of us, together.
"What do you think of the stout?" Lucent asked after I took my first sip.
"It's..." It was dark; dark beer. Sweet, though. Chocolatey? Kind of like an adult version of chocolate milk. A little hint of vanilla, too. "I think it's good, but I don't know if I'd order it on my own," I admitted. "Do they make a fruity version?"
"A fruity version of a stout?" He lifted one eyebrow.
I shrugged. "I don't know?"
"Next time we'll try something different," he said. "It sounds peculiar, but it's really quite good. You mix half a glass of champagne with half a glass of stout. Traditionally it's called a Black Velvet. They're somewhat fruity, by way of the champagne."
"Do you like them?" I asked.
"I do enjoy them on occasion, yes."
"Alright. I would like to try one, then."
...
Once we finished our meal, Lucent and I chatted. He also rubbed soothing balm on my butt. I protested that one at first, but he refused to accept my arguments. Laying across his lap, my elbows pressed onto the leather of the couch, lips pouted, I reluctantly allowed Lucent to rub cream on my sore cheeks. He lifted my skirt and pulled down my underwear and began. This was sexual, and yet it wasn't. It was odd.
The balm was cold and made me fidget, but he used such gentle, calming motions that I couldn't help but relax. And we talked more. Everything went by so fast. I'd arrived at the club with Cole at nine, but in a matter of moments it seemed like everything was closing down. Soon enough, when I looked up, the main room had dwindled to a handful of people, and even those people were packing up and saying their goodbyes to one another.
Lucent finished with the balm. Taking a soft linen towel from the cart Sam had left us, he cleaned the excess cream from my butt, then tossed the towel aside. Then he rubbed me again, but this time he had no balm.
His hand circled one of my cheeks, then the other, from the outer edge to the center curves. And downwards. He toyed with me, teasing his fingers lower, lower, to my slit, where he gently pushed a little bit inside of me, and...
He stopped. "Come, Miss Tanner. I'll have someone fetch your coat. I'm taking you home."
What? No. That wasn't fair. "I don't want to go home," I said, whiny and in protest.
"I'm taking you to my home," he added.
"Oh."
"Do you find this acceptable?" he asked, some curious, erotic expression on his face. His lips quirked, amused, but his eyes watched me, lascivious. Oh God.
"Only if you show me your fitted condoms," I said. I thought I should bargain here, even though I didn't even care about the condoms anymore.
"No," he said.
Argh! Should I say no, then? I didn't find this acceptable? I did, though. I wanted to see Lucent's home.
I decided on another angle. "Lucent," I said, sweet and demure, "I would find it pleasing if you showed me your fitted condoms."
"Would you?" he asked, grinning.
"I would like it a lot if I could see how they worked."
This was it, I thought. It was fun, too. A game, kind of. That topping from the bottom thing Lucent mentioned. He refused me if I tried to bargain with him, but if I mentioned I liked something, then what?
"Perhaps," he said. "I'll consider it. What I have in mind isn't especially conducive to condom use, though."
"Oh," I said. "What do you have in mind?"
"It's a secret."
"I don't like secrets."
"Are you saying you don't find this acceptable, then? Shall I bring you back to your apartment, Miss Tanner?"
I was absolutely positive he wouldn't bring me back to my apartment. He'd kidnap me and tie me up and tease me and torment me and have his way with me. And, while that sounded thrilling and exciting, I couldn't even play hard to get right now. He had me; he owned me. I adored Lucent's secrets, even through my impatience.
"I find you acceptable," I said, crossing my hands over my chest.
"Is that your way of stating you'd like nothing more than to f**k me right here and now with reckless abandon on the floor of my private booth?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, petulant. "It is."
"I am going to make careful note of that, Miss Tanner. For future reference."
"Good," I said.
"Come. Let's find your coat and leave. Otherwise I might use my private knowledge of your verbal intricacies sooner rather than later."
...
Lucent requested someone fetch me my coat, which they did quickly. We left after that. He drove.
For some reason, I imagined someone like him having a personal driver, but he didn't. I mentioned it in passing as we rode through the quiet, early morning streets of the city, and he just laughed.
"I'm not an especially trusting person, Miss Tanner," he said. "I prefer to drive myself because I know I'll do an appropriate job of it."
"You trust me," I replied, hopeful. Hopeful, because I didn't want him to respond unfavorably and say he didn't.
"I do," he said. Then he added, "In many things, at least. I don't trust you to drive, though."
"What? I'm not a bad driver."
"No one said you were bad." He grinned and tossed me a sidelong glance from his throne upon the driver's seat; King Lucent of the Streets. "I'm better, though. That's all."
"I'll race you," I said.
"If you plan on racing me, I believe you'll need a new car first. Yours is more likely to fall apart than to win any races. Also, racing is hardly the appropriate way to prove you're a safer driver."
"I suppose," I mumbled.
At the next stoplight, Lucent grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it, letting his lips linger on my soft skin. I blushed and smiled shyly at him and forgot all about driving.
...
Apparently Lucent lived in an apartment, which was more like a house, in the upper section of some prominent skyrise residential tower. He rented two floors of it, both connected either by the elevator or a spiral staircase. He had his own private passcode for the main elevator that brought him to what amounted to his front door. Along with that, and not as interesting, he told me, was a service elevator and emergency staircase sequestered in a back room. No one typically used those; they were just there.
"In case of emergencies," I said, nodding.
"Yes, I suppose so." He grinned at me.
I wanted to see the entire place. It looked quite roomy. Most everything was dark, though. Lucent turned on the bare minimum of lights and led me down a hallway, making me guess at the shadowed silhouettes situated down other halls and in rooms with half-opened doors. It might've looked ominous and disturbing, except I somewhat doubted Lucent had anything especially creepy in his house.
Perhaps I was too trusting.
"Can I have a tour?" I asked, hoping to halt our progress for a moment so I could investigate. His house was a mysterious new continent found in the middle of uncharted waters and I wanted to discover it.
"No," Lucent said, glancing at me. "Not tonight, at least. I'm going to punish you."
I blinked and stared at him. "What." This was supposed to be a question of concern, but I never reached the questioning part.
"Yes," he said with a nod. "I'm not too pleased with your willful and reckless abandon, Miss Tanner. You put yourself into an extremely dangerous predicament, and I'd like to ensure it doesn't happen again."
"Lucent, I..."
Did I want to be punished? I didn't think so, or at least not right now. I still felt... odd. Weird? Yes. My butt stung slightly from Cole's abusive palm and I was worried. I didn't want to be worried, especially with Lucent, but after this evening I realized I didn't really understand any of these BDSM things and perhaps I shouldn't. Perhaps this meant Lucent and I couldn't be together, and perhaps this was best, and perhaps...
He sidled close to me and put his hand on my hip, pulling me close to him. With his other hand, he touched my chin and bade me to look up at him.
"Miss Tanner," he said. "I won't hurt you, I promise you that. Do you trust me?"
"I think I do," I said truthfully. "But I'm scared." Scared to trust him, scared of punishments, or scared of myself; I wasn't sure which applied.
He frowned and furrowed his brow, considering my honesty. "Come with me," he said. "I shall show you and explain to you the form of punishment I wish to exact upon you. I assure you it's extremely light, all things considered. I promise you it won't hurt."
"How do you know, though?" I asked.
"I've been on the receiving end of this particular form of punishment."
"Oh." Wait! What? "Who punished you?"
"No one." He smirked. "I'd be a terrible person if I didn't know how my punishments felt, though, now wouldn't I? I've assessed these situations by experimenting in private on myself and I'm a more sensible and trustworthy person because of it. I will know exactly how you feel, exactly when you feel it, because I have felt it."
"Oh." That sounded... very nice. Fascinating, actually. I wanted to know how Lucent felt, and while this was different in a lot of ways, it intrigued me.
"Don't trust me because I say that you should," he added. "Trust me because you find me trustworthy. Shall we go?"
I nodded, but I didn't know entirely how I felt about all of this yet. A little confused, morbidly curious, fascinated and surprised. This seemed like a lot of feelings for what Lucent called an "extremely light" punishment.
Holding my hand, he led me to a room near the end of one hallway and escorted me inside. He flipped a lightswitch on the wall and closed the door behind us.
The room was... peculiar. Large, or large enough. As big as my bedroom back at my apartment. It looked like a massage studio, or maybe a doctor's office. A cushioned, massage-style table in the center of the room acted as a centerpiece to the surrounding area, with an excessive amount of bookshelves lining the walls, and a smaller, actual table near the cushioned one. The small table had drawers on the side. Hiding things, I supposed. What things? Punishment BDSM things?
This should have interested me more(or worried me, made me scared, or any other number of emotions), but I found it hard to concentrate on the table because of the millions of candles lined up in the bookshelves. Each shelf held an assortment of colors, all coded together and kept tightly packed. Labels attached to the front of each shelf assigned names to the candles, or something of the sort, but the words were too small to read from afar.