Page 130 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

My face heats and I manage a nod.

“Baby. Why do you always do that?” he asks me. “You always clam up and go non-verbal when I get a little filthy with you.”

“I—I don’t know,” I say. “It’s just embarrassing, I guess?”

“Do you know what one of the core rules of BDSM is?”

“I mean... doesn’t that depend on the individual dynamic?”

“Those are rules within a dynamic yes, but there are some guidelines too,” he says. He takes one hand off the steering wheel and holds up his index finger. “Safe.” He puts up his middle finger. “Sane.” Then his thumb. “Consensual. Those are the main rules that make up BDSM that works.”

“Safe, sane, consensual,” I repeat.

“Right,” he says. “Now, personally, especially with my background in the work I used to do as a paramedic, I know there’s no real way to avoid all risks associated with kink, but I do my best to uphold those principles, because I’m not going to be able to enjoy myself unless I know you’re enjoying yourself, alright?”

I nod again, and he takes a moment to give me an exasperated look. “Baby, please. I need you to say things verbally, alright?”

“Gah, I’m sorry. It’s just... I’m not used to having such open communication like this.”

“I know,” he says, his voice softening with understanding. “I know, usually hookups are these, like, quick messy things. Random Fae Guy. Bricklepants—”

“Bastion Bramblethorn—”

“That’s what I said. Anyway—point being—Lillith. Sweetheart. You are critically important to me. As a pleasure Dom and a man who is madly fucking in love with you, it would be fucking awful to find out that something we did together was unpleasant or, goddess forbid, traumatic for you. I know I’m a fucker sometimes—”

“Most of the time—” I point out.

“—and we’ll put a pin in that for now. I know I’m a fucker sometimes, but when I’m asking you to be verbal with me, it’s not because I’m trying to make you squirm. Your enjoyment of our activities is paramount to my enjoyment of our activities. If I’m going to torture you, I want to make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

He comes to a stoplight and looks at me. There’s that damn boyish earnestness again. There’s that worried tilt to his brow that makes me swoon for him.

“I get it,” I say. “I— really, really, really like the idea of you chasing me through a park and fucking me like an animal when you catch me.”

“Good. And I will catch you. You know that, right?”

That pleasantly warm tingle returns to the nape of my neck. “Mhmnn,” I manage to say, even though I want to nod as an answer again.

A honk sounds from behind us and we both jolt.

“Fuck,” Damien says under his breath as he finally sees the green light and accelerates perhaps a little too quickly, waving a hand in the back window in apology.

“Did you pick a park?” I ask.

“Mnnn—Del Lune seemed pretty big.”

“It is, but not very secluded,” I say. “Especially in the evenings. There are a lot of vendors that set up and picnickers and stuff like that.”

“Shit, really?”

“There’s another park,” I say. “More like a nature reserve. If... if that’s okay with you. It’ll be a little less tame, but more private.”

He nods, leaning to finesse his phone out of his jean pocket. He opens his phone and the maps app. “What’s it called?”

“It won’t show up on there,” I say. “It’s warded.”

“Ohhh... is it?” he asks grinning over at me. “Is this, like, the freaky sex magic park?”

I snort a laugh. “It’s a park with a secondary portal to The Buried City. Can’t have some random mortal stumbling into a pocket realm, you know?”