AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m a writer,” he said. “As such, I place a lot of weight on the written word. I want you to spend time putting your thoughts down on paper. Every day. I’ll read over it, but whatever and however you decide to write is up to you, although sometimes I’ll give you specific assignments. I expect those writings to be both insightful and grammatically correct.”
She brushed her fingers over the clothbound book with a frown. Writing was not her favorite thing to do, and she’d always struggled with grammar. “You mean you’ll grade it?”
“Something like that.” His voice somehow held both humor and warning at the same time. “You don’t appear to like the idea of writing. Give it some time before forming an opinion. Many people find writing to be therapeutic. Have you ever written about your BDSM journey?”
Her frown deepened. Her therapist had suggested writing, but she’d never gotten around to actually doing it. Now it looked as if she no longer had a choice. “No,” she answered with a sigh. “Never.”
“Then you may find out you enjoy it.”
Abby journaled, she remembered. Did it so well and for so long, she was actually making it a career now. That would never happen with her.
She shook her head. “I have a feeling it’ll only confirm I don’t like it.” Especially if he was going to grade it. What would he do, break out a red pen? Make her stand in the corner if she made a bad grade? Spank her?
Spank her. Oh . . .
The thought of Cole pushing her over his knee for a spanking made her face feel hot. Her breathing sped up, and a dull ache began to throb between her legs. She shifted in her seat to try and alleviate it.
“Well, now.” He sat across from her, eyes fixed on what she was doing. “That must have been a very interesting thought you had. What was it, Sasha?”
She didn’t want to tell him. Didn’t want to let him know how much the thought of him spanking her turned her on.
She leaned forward over the table. “I could say it’s nothing, but if I do, I’m sure you’ll see right through me and potentially strip the word ‘nothing’ from my vocabulary as well. Will you let me just say it was an embarrassing personal revelation I’d rather not share at the moment?”
His forehead wrinkled while he considered her request, and her hands grew sweaty at the thought that he might ask her to share anyway. But right when she’d accepted that she would have to swallow her pride and admit how much the thought of him spanking her turned her on, his expression relaxed.
“Yes, we can leave it at that. I recognize I haven’t earned your trust yet. You may keep your secrets. For now.”
She shuddered. His for now left her with no ambiguity: there would come a time when he would ask for her secrets. She only hoped that when that day came, she was ready to give them.
• • •
Cole watched as the meaning of his words became clear to Sasha and he hid a smile at her reaction. He could tell she would be a complex puzzle to solve. There was little evidence of the timid submissive he witnessed last night, probably due to her lack of sleep and the informal protocol he insisted on at the start of their discussion. He liked the fact she seemed slightly more at ease with him and hoped it continued even when she had a full night’s sleep.
“I’ll allow you that concession,” he said. “But there are a few things I will be less than inclined to compromise on.”
“I’m willing to take those things under consideration,” she said in a tone that left him with no doubt that submissive or not, Sasha knew a thing or two about negotiation. That knowledge pleased him. He meant what he said when he told her a woman had to be strong to submit to him.
He wondered, not for the first time, what had been going through her mind that eventful night with Peter. Secrets. He would have hers eventually.
He took the sheet of paper on top of the pile to his right and passed it across the table to her. “My preferences.”
“You wrote them down?” she asked, looking over the list.
“I find there’s less confusion if everything is clearly spelled out.”
“Were you a lawyer in a previous life?”
He laughed. “No, I’ve probably always been a writer.” Before she could read the entire list, he wanted to talk through it. “To begin with, I don’t want you to orgasm without my permission.”
The paper slipped to the table. “I can’t . . . you don’t want . . . I’m sorry, what?”
“I believe it’s a common requirement.”
“Yes, but last night you said you weren’t . . . that we . . .”
“Right.” He dropped his voice. “I said I wasn’t going to fuck you. However, I never said I wouldn’t reward you appropriately.”
Her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink, and she replied with a soft, “Oh.”
“Likewise, I never said I wouldn’t punish you when necessary. There’s more information later in the document.” He picked the paper up and handed it to her. “Item two.”
She quickly scanned the section in question.
“You were injured physically in a scene,” he said. “Coming to terms with that, learning to deal with it, takes time and trust in your partner. During our time together, I will never touch you without telling you beforehand, and I’ll tell you where I’ll touch you.”
Her forehead wrinkled as she thought through his words. Quite possibly she understood why he would put something like that in place, but was unsure about how it would work.
He held out his hand. “Place your hand in mine, little one.”
Tentatively, she reached across the table and put her hand on top of his.
“Palm up, please.”
She hesitated briefly. Putting her hand palm up made her feel more vulnerable; that’s why he had her do it. Her fingers trembled as she flipped her hand over.
“Thank you.” He was humbled with the small measure of trust her action showed. “I’m going to trace your palm with a finger from my other hand.”
He kept his gaze locked on hers as he brought his other hand to the top of the table. Ever so slowly, he dragged a finger across the base of her thumb. She sucked in a breath and looked over his shoulder to the wall behind him. He was pleased his touch affected her so.
His finger swept the other way. “I need you to understand I will always do what I say I’ll do, but nothing more.”
She nodded.
“What’s your safe word, Sasha?”
She had no trouble finding her tongue when it came to safe words. “Green for more. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.”
“Good, nice and easy.” His finger continued stroking her palm. “During your retraining, I will never take away your ability to speak. I know Nathaniel had you fill out a checklist recently, but I’m going to have you complete another one. You should know, even if you don’t mark gags as a hard limit, they aren’t something I’m going to use on you.” He smiled. “Consider it one of my hard limits.”
Her head snapped back so she could look at him. Interesting. So she was surprised at that particular hard limit. He wondered why it came as a surprise to her that he wouldn’t use a gag. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if she’d ever be at the point where she’d be comfortable playing with gags again.
He hoped his honesty in both how and when he would touch her as well as his insistence on not using gags would be a step closer toward gaining her trust. He wanted her to understand that though he might have a reputation as a bastard in the playroom, he wasn’t heartless.
“Thank you,” she finally whispered to him.
“A Dominant must have hard limits just like a submissive does. I’m not comfortable using a gag on you. What if you panicked, became so scared you forgot your safe signal? Putting a gag on you would serve no purpose and has the potential to harm you further. I won’t do it.”
She nodded, glanced to the table, and took a deep breath. He waited. He could tell she was struggling with whatever was going on inside her head.
But he was pleased she
didn’t whisper when she finally spoke. “I know you said you’d have me fill out a checklist, but there’s one thing I feel I should bring up now.”
“Of course.”
He still held her left hand, but she clenched her right one into a fist. “No matter what we do, my shirt stays on. I don’t want to be topless.”
He continued drawing circles on her palm while thinking over what she’d requested. She felt strongly about keeping her shirt on, and it was difficult for her to bring it up. He tried not to envision the scars that would likely be on her back. He needed to tread carefully. “An odd request. One that will limit breast play, an activity I happen to enjoy.”
“I enjoy it, too. My need to keep a shirt on has nothing to do with my breasts.”
“Oh?”
