She didn’t like it this way. She’d been excited when she’d thought he would flog her back and legs like the scene. But he’d proven that he didn’t like gentle suggestions tonight.
He was so freaking sexy in those leather pants with ties that would make it super easy for him to release his cock when it was time for him to fuck her. He’d worn a leather vest that showed off his chest and abs, but he’d just taken it off. He was dressed for sex, a decadent walking sex toy, but he seemed determined to make her wait.
But then this was all a game, and she had to play it if she wanted mind-blowing orgasms. That was the goal.
Life was transactional. That was what she’d reminded herself of all afternoon. You had to pay for anything in life, and playing Beck’s mind games were the price of her pleasure.
He stared at her for a moment, looking her up and down, his eyes hot on her body.
Maybe he wouldn’t take so long after all.
He stepped up and came so close she could practically feel the heat coming off his skin. “I’m going to introduce you to some toys.”
She bit back a groan. She wanted him to touch her.
A brow cocked over his eyes. “Unless there’s something you want to talk about.”
He seemed to want to push her tonight. She knew why. He wanted to talk about what had happened this afternoon, but there was nothing to talk about. He was the same old Beck.
Except the same old Beck would have been more than happy with her ignoring what he’d done. In fact, the same old Beck would have never apologized. He would have thought he was right and been stubborn as hell about her agreeing with him.
“All right.” She was here to explore her sexuality. That included more than mere orgasms.
“I wonder how long you’ll be this agreeable,” he murmured. His fingertips came up and brushed against her nipples. A shiver raced across her skin.
“I thought that was the point.” She wished he would blindfold her. Then she could concentrate on nothing more than the sensations he could pull from her body.
“The point of D/s for most couples is to find greater intimacy. To learn to communicate better. I wouldn’t know because you’re my first submissive. So far my only experience has been to give my partners what they need.”
He’d given her an excellent opening. “I need sex.”
His fingertips twisted her nipple, sending a delicious sensation through her. “And you’ll get it. Do you know what your job is?”
“To do what you tell me to do.”
He sighed and stepped back, turning away from her and walking over to the tray he’d checked out when they’d entered the room.
She wasn’t sure how much she liked this room. It was on the cold side. There were none of the romantic trappings they’d had when they’d been in the dungeon of The Velvet Collar. Even earlier downstairs, there had been a softness to the place. Perhaps because she’d been surrounded by all those happy couples and singles who were perfectly comfortable with themselves. There had been a joy that had surrounded her.
Once again the idea of family played through her brain. It was a weird kinky family, but it was a family all the same. Beck’s family.
Beck got everything. Beck fucked her over and still managed to find a place in the world while she was left all alone.
That was not what she was thinking about tonight. She wasn’t thinking at all.
It would be so much easier if he would get on with it.
When he turned around he had what looked like earrings in his hands. “That’s because you don’t understand D/s. And maybe because neither one of us truly understood marriage.”
“I don’t want to talk about our marriage.”
If that bothered him, he didn’t show it. “D/s only works if it’s a two-way street. Now that two-way street might look different to a lot of people, but at the end of the day, an intimate, long-term D/s relationship has to be about both parties getting what they need and communicating about what those needs are. The Dominant works hard to meet the sub’s needs, and the sub does the same for the Dom. It’s not enough for the Dom to worship the sub. All that does is put the sub on a pedestal, and those tend to topple over. These are nipple clamps.”
She wanted to argue that she knew what he was trying to do, but he was holding up the earrings, and they were not meant for her ears. He showed her the clamp that would hold the jewelry in place. They would bite into her nipples. They would hurt.
She kind of craved them. “You’re going to put them on me to sensitize my nipples?”
She would ignore all the stuff she didn’t want to hear.
His frown told her he knew what she was doing, but he moved on anyway. “I’m going to put them on you so you’ll be very aware of your breasts. They’ll go numb at some point, but when I take them off, you’ll get a hard rush of pain that I think is going to do something for you. You’ve got a masochistic streak. It’s okay to indulge it. To a point.”
“Yes, I think I can look back and say my masochism has gotten me in trouble many times. It’s certainly kept me hanging around when I shouldn’t.” Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that.
He cupped her breast with that big palm of his. She didn’t have petite breasts, but Beck could hold her in one hand. “Good. That’s honest. I think you’ll find I reward honesty.”
He dropped to one knee and leaned over, sucking her nipple in between his lips.
She gasped and felt heat curl through her system, making her hold on to the rope that bound her wrists. It was over all too soon and he was straightening up.
He gently pinched her nipple again, twisting it
