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A faint flush spread across her cheeks. “You said you didn’t want to only explore bondage, right?”
I nodded. “I’m thinking of this as a sort of juxtaposition between the stereotypes of BDSM and how things really work.”
She turned to me at last, curiosity rather than desire in her eyes. “Show me.”
I stood and held out a hand. She took it, and I kept my fingers curled around hers. We moved around the edge of the dance floor, and I swiped my VIP card across the card reader next to the door.
When we stepped into the room and closed the door behind us, the music faded, and I was made painfully aware that we were alone. In a room with a bed. Again.
To distract myself from how tight my jeans had become, I walked across the room to the wall where a series of whips, floggers, and crops hung.
“Every Dom who uses these has to know exactly how to use them and what sort of damage they each inflict, as well as what their Subs need.” I ran my fingers over a couple of the items. “Subs aren’t the only ones who need to be trained. Doms need it too. A man or woman who picks up one of these things without thoroughly understanding the responsibility they have can hurt someone.”
“So, where society sees abuse and a loss of control...”
I turned as she walked toward me. “The reality is about power, pleasure, and being in control. About knowing what someone else needs, and the two of you coming together to find a connection that provides you both with what you require.”
Even as I said it, I could see the way the light in her eyes flared, the hunger when I talked about power and pleasure and control. I felt it in her body when we were together but hadn’t completely recognized it as the counterbalance to what I needed for myself. Not until now.
I watched her as she approached the wall, as her hands traced along each item, her eyes studying every line. With the same dedication she’d shown as my assistant, the same scrutiny she’d had in the main room of the club, she looked at and cataloged everything. She would approach being a Sub the same way.
Dammit.
I didn’t want to follow her rules. I wanted my photos, but I wanted her too.
I needed to be smart about it though, or I’d lose everything.
