Page 12 of Winter’s Fire

“I have to know what the real thing feels like. You… Someone can tell me what it feels like to… Oh, I don’t know, be flogged, but unless I experience it for real—”

“You want me to flog you? Why do you think I would flog you?”

More silence. Logan waited.

“It’s what a Dom does… isn’t it?”

“It’s what a Dom does if that’s what his sub needs and they both consent.” He took a deep breath. “How much research have you done?”

“I’m beginning to think not enough.”

“Then maybe I’d flog you for that, as a punishment—unless being flogged gives you an orgasm. Are you all right?” He hadn’t meant to make her choke.

“I thought you said sex didn’t have to come into it.”

“Depends on two things. One—if it’s a hard limit, it’s not happening. Two—how you define sex. My definition is putting my dick in a willing pussy—and that doesn’t have to happen for the owner of the pussy to have an orgasm.”

He could almost hear the cogs grinding as she processed the implications of his statement.

“Oh.”

And now he swore he could feel the solar-flare heat of her blush threatening to melt the toughened glass screen of his phone. “You worked it out now?”

“Wait a minute. If there’s no… orgasm for the Dom, what does he get out of it?”

A full explanation would only remove the mystique. Not wanting to dull the effect of the delights that awaited her, especially if she did want to experience the honest beauty of submission, Logan settled for the most innocuous of the rewards he found in dominating a sub. “I can’t speak for every Dom, but for me, it’s solving an intriguing puzzle.”

Her sigh was so loud, it was almost a groan. “A puzzle. Could you try confusing me a little more, please? I don’t think you’re quite there yet.”

Logan’s lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. Humour, now. “The puzzle is the submissive. I enjoy the challenge of finding out what turns her on, and how I can use that to give her multiple orgasms. My pleasure comes from having the control to make my sub come apart with my hands and my mouth, with or without floggers, crops, cuffs and nipple clamps. Does that help?” It was more than he intended to say, but sharing was caring, or some crap like that.

“Help?” The word was more like a strangled squawk. “That’s supposed to help?”

“You said we couldn’t go into this half-hearted. If we’re going to do this right, it means you get naked in front of me, and I get to make you come. Are you ready for that?”

For a few seconds, there was heavy breathing, followed by silence and yet another deep breath.

“I’m ready.”

Somehow, he doubted it. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. A word of advice, Lucy—don’t think about it too much tonight. And for the record? BDSM isn’t a subject you can cover adequately with a few hours’ online research, but don’t worry—I can teach you enough to get us through this.”

“Actually… there’s something else I need to talk to you about—it’s not just things like flogging and all the other stuff.”

Her nervousness almost reverberated through the connection. She was in a state about something. Logan didn’t like the thought. She might be a dictator in the office, but the woman he’d kissed in the conference room was no tyrant. Besides, she was his responsibility now, and if she needed gentle coaxing, that was what he’d give her. His tone softened. “What else?”

“It’s… I’ll see you tomorrow, Logan. Goodnight.”

And with that, she ended the call. Intrigued, Logan tossed his phone onto the seat beside him. Whatever he’d thought of Lucy, it had taken guts to open that dialogue, even if her nerve had failed her at the last minute, leaving him genuinely curious about what else she’d wanted to discuss.

What else was on her mind, and why was he so damn interested in the answer?

Chapter 5

As the gateway to the job of her dreams, Logan’s front door was remarkable for its ordinariness. It wasn’t adorned with rainbows, nor was it guarded by unicorns. One of three identical doors on the landing, all of them painted the same shade of dark blue, the only thing that set this one apart was the number, in polished brass characters about four inches high.

In spite of Logan’s advice, she hadn’t slept well, mostly due to berating herself for not going all the way and telling him the real reason she didn’t want to fake it was because she was attracted to him.

After endless tossing and turning, she’d left her bed for the poor substitute of more online research. The floggers, crops and cuffs had been daunting enough, but when she’d reached basic nipple clamps, her courage had wavered for a moment or two. The clover variety had it running for the hills.