Her Eyes

Twenty Two

By definition, dominance means to have power and influence over others. In certain aspects of society, dominance is seen similarly.

Between Nikolaos and Esmae, dominance meant letting Nikolaos slam his shaft into Esmae's pliant body while she lay under him, moaning loudly and mumbling incoherently.

It meant Esmae was cared for after their burning sessions of love.

So, now, when Esmae lay beneath Nikolaos, her body stripped of all clothing and littered with bite marks and handprints, her breathing labored and her back arching when Nikolaos thrust deeply inside her, she understood what dominance truly was.

She was at the will of Nikolaos, but if she wanted to, it could all stop with a single word. She held the power, not him.

It was a nice thing to know and have, especially when she was unsure. Nikolaos was always so patient with her, waiting until she verbally agreed without hesitation, before ravaging her. He would grip her waist so hard, his hands left marks on her skin. Sometimes, if they were feeling more ravenous, he squeezed her neck gently and watched as her eyes rolled back as he pummeled her from behind.

And yet, behind it all, was a loving, gentle man that caressed her and apologized for acting too rough as he washed her body and made her food. He kissed her, whispered praises of love and adoration in her ears, and he cuddled with her in bed or on the couch for hours, listening to their soft breaths and feeling her heartbeat over his.

It was like that often.

The sun rose behind the clouds, strong winds still pushing against the windows of the cottage, asking to be let in more politely than usual.

Esmae awoke at the feeling of Nikolaos beside her and groaned, moving closer to him. She was clad in one of his shirts, and panties, love marks adorning her body from head to toe.

She was painted like a canvas.

She felt Nikolaos wrap his arms securely around her body and kiss her head, sighing deeply as he fell asleep once again. Esmae would've done the same if she didn't have the sudden urge to go outside.

The dryad, despite being once a leaf, had never visited the forest that lay outside the cottage, surrounding it like a barrier and hiding it from those who wandered too far. It was for a simple reason as well: the cold.

The cold weather of England was undesirable to the leaf, and she'd rather not relive the lonely memories of her life during late fall and early winter, so she stayed away. Still, like any other human, she wanted to go outside at least once and stretch her legs. The comfortable house she made her home was growing small and cramped.

Would Nikolaos let me go?

Of course he would. He would do anything for her.

She hesitated, but whispered to the sleeping man, hoping he wasn't too far into his sleep cycle when she did. "Nikolaos." He groaned at her sweet, fresh voice and peeked a tired eye open, running his hands across her back in a soothing motion.

"Ti symvaínei, glykiá mou?" he asked tiredly.
(What's wrong, sweetheart?)

It was a small habit of his to slip Greek words into their conversation, growing extremely familiar with Esmae. It happened more often when he was tired or distracted.

She rarely understood him, unless what he said was obvious, but never complained about it. She loved how his voice grew deeper when he spoke his native tongue – his accent thicker and more prominent.

"C-Can I go outside?" she asked nervously, playing with the fabric she wore.

Nikolaos opened both eyes after hearing her question and let out a yawn before reaching over to his phone and looking at the time. "Where do you want to go?"