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“Beer is fine.”
“Coming right up.” I head into the kitchen to get our drinks, and when I come back, Lily is curled up on the couch. At first, I think she’s fallen asleep, but she opens her eyes and smiles at me when I come back.
“So tell me more about Anchored,” she says, taking the beer from me. “Do they have classes for newbies?”
“They do,” I tell her. “Actually, I’m going to be teaching one of the upcoming ones on how to be a good Dom for your submissive.”
“Is that right? How do you get chosen to do that? Is there like, an application process?”
“I’m friends with the owner.”
Lily smiles. “I knew it wasn’t you.”
“What’s that?”
“There were some whispers at the club,” she tells me. “Zack is convinced you’re the owner of Anchored.”
“It’s quite the set-up she’s got. I’m not going to lie. The ship is incredible and it’s such a unique design for a sex club.”
“Wait,” Lily sits up suddenly. “She? The owner is a woman? Who is it?”
I smile
and kiss her on the forehead. “We all have our secrets, love.”
“Come on, now. What happened to vulnerability and transparency?”
“I only tell my secrets: not other people’s secrets.”
Lily sits back with a little huff and a pout, but it’s more endearing than anything else. She’s adorable, and I have a feeling she’s going to be a bratty sort of sub. I don’t mind. I’ve got all night to play with her and something tells me we’re going to have a more than our fair share of fun.
Chapter 11
Lily
“So do you have a sex dungeon in here?” I ask, standing and walking to the center of the room. I can’t help looking around at everything. It’s a really modern-looking space. The walls are white with framed black-and-white photographs on them. The couch is bright red, but the rest of the furniture is black. It’s all very chic, and I’m a little scared to touch anything because I might break it or get it dirty.
Years of working with children has taught me that everything is breakable, no matter how durable it seems on TV.
“In my living room?”
“Yeah. Do you have a sex dungeon in here?” I point to the couch. “Like, does this convert into a spanking bench?”
“Someone’s been doing her homework,” he looks amused.
“I have,” I tell him. “I read some websites, watched some porn, and even read one romance novel.”
“Which one?” He asks.
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you also read BDSM romance, Master Thorn?”
“If you’ve actually been doing your homework, you know that title means something, sweetheart.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “It means we’re playing. It means we’re in the middle of a scene. For some couples, the title ‘Master’ is used only when they’re in a committed BDSM relationship. For others, it’s just used during play.”
“Some of my partners prefer to call me ‘Sir.’”
“But you like being called ‘Master.’”
