AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Like a Band-Aid,” I agree, even as I find myself really fucking wishing I knew what wound we were about to expose together.
“I want…” He stops. “No, I—I think I…” He stops again, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and growling.
“Nol—”
“I want what Travis and Carter have.”
I blink at him. Uh… what? “A relationship? I thought—I mean, yes. Of course. I know we never really put labels on this or anything but of course.” I nearly laugh with relief. “Baby, I want nothing more than to be your boyfriend. Or partner. Or whatever term you want to—”
“Dominant,” he blurts.
My head buzzes with panic. “W-what?”
“Boyfriend, too, yeah. But—but dominant.” He starts to reach for me before stopping and shaking his head. His eyes fall to the side like he can’t look at me anymore. “I want you to be my dominant, like Travis is Carter’s.”
“You want me to hurt you?” I ask, feeling like the world beneath my feet is crumbling. I thought he was better. I thought we were getting somewhere.
“Not necessarily. I mean, that’s one of my kinks. To a degree. But I’d want to hurt for you. So if you didn’t want me hurting, then I don’t think it’d do anything. I don’t know. Maybe that’s stupid.” He waves his hand like he’s pushing the topic away. “It’s dominance, mostly. I just—I want to be yours. I want you to, like…” He turns his chin, his eyes going everywhere but toward me. His voice is whisper soft and terrified when he finally finishes. “I want to be yours. Like… really yours. I want you to—I want to belong to you.”
He wants me to own him, is what he’s not saying. I can fucking see it in his eyes.
“No.” It’s a gut reaction. A fundamental feeling in my bones. I force myself to take a breath and think it over. Yeah, still a huge fucking no. “I can’t. No. Have you talked about this to Dr. Singh? You’re not a slave anymore, Nolan. You deserve better.”
His expression crumbles. “People can be slaves if they want to be. If it’s—if it’s safe. There’s nothing wrong with healthy kink. Dr. Singh said so.”
What the fuck?
“Why would you want to be a slave?”
“I’m not saying I want to be your slave. It’s more like a—a submissive,” he corrects, his voice hitching with a barely contained sob. “I’m a sexual person, Maison. I love sex. Even after everything I’ve been through. I know it’s probably fucked up and horrible but I can’t help what my body craves. I want to be fucked hard. I want to be teased and hurt and toyed with. I want to be controlled. I want to be used. I want to sit with a cock in my mouth for hours and be nothing but a good boy for my—my—for you. I want to be loved and cherished. I want to belong to you. I want to be good, so fucking good, and I want you to be proud of me.”
“Nolan, this is—it’s conditioning. It’s what you’ve been through. It’ll get better.”
“No! I wanted it before, Maison. I’ve—God, I’ve always wanted it, since I knew what sex and kink were. I spent a really long time hating myself for that. I spent a long time thinking I deserved what happened to me because I—I asked for it.” He wipes his face, but it’s pointless. More tears just fall. I want to hold him, to comfort him, but I feel fucking frozen. “But what they did to me wasn’t consensual. It wasn’t kink. It was fucked up. It was rape. It wasn’t okay. But what we would do—me being yours—that would be okay. It would be so good, Mais. It’d be… everything.”
My stomach feels sick.
He once told me he didn’t think he deserved to be happy, that he deserves to hurt. Why would you ever deserve to hurt, Nolan? I had asked him. He hadn’t answered.
This is why, isn’t it? He just said he had been ashamed, that he felt like he deserved what happened, that he felt like he asked for it. Now Dr. Singh has helped him overcome that feeling and he’s ready to accept those desires. He’s ready to embrace them. With me.
“Nolan.” I rub my jaw, that sick feeling getting worse. “I don’t know…”
“We could try, right? Just once? One night? I’m not asking you to hurt me. If you can’t do that, it’s okay. Just the dominance will be enough, I think. Just… would you be willing to try? Maybe it’ll surprise you.”
Please don’t ask me to do that. Please don’t ask me to take control. I’m so fucking tired of the weight of the world on my shoulders. Please don’t add more.
I’ll ruin it. I’ll ruin us. I always do. I fucking ruin everything.
“Please?” he begs, tears in his pretty eyes. “Please just try? For me?”
It feels like the world collapses in on itself, each piece of rubble landing on my chest and shoulders until I’m buried alive.
I can’t tell him no. I won’t.
I’m always willing to hurt for the one I love, after all.
“Okay,” I whisper, my lungs aching for air. “We can try. Not tonight, but… soon. I want to think about it first, okay? I want to do it right, to plan or whatever.”
