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At the same time, she realized that the agreement with Dmitri came as a blessing. The rules were clear, his role even more obvious, and there was freedom in that. The perfect recipe for her new life: no messy emotions and all kinky sex.
Cora turned on the couch, pressed her back against the armrest and pulling her legs up underneath her. “So, what else is worrying you?”
A thousand things. Presley figured it best to oust them rather than fret. She needed to be prepared, even if she doubted she’d ever be prepared for what awaited her tonight in the dungeon. “What if I don’t like what he’s doing?”
Cora gathered her hair over one shoulder and twirled a strand on her finger. “Use your safe word, and he’ll stop. He might talk to you about it in the scene if he thinks he can push you past your worry, or he’ll go on to something else and maybe have you add it to your hard limits.”
Easy enough, but . . . “Will it make him angry if I use the safe word?”
Cora shook her head, dropping the hair from her finger. “That’s why the safe word exists. To keep you safe. Club Sin is big on having a safe word, and if a Dom ignored it, he’d get the boot, no questions asked. But Dmitri will read your clues, and I doubt you’ll even think of pulling a safe word. He’ll be careful and won’t take you so far that you’d even consider it.”
While that relieved Presley—it meant she wouldn’t get in over her head—she wasn’t settled. Giving up complete control to someone else was scary, no two ways about it, and once she filled out the limits section of her agreement tonight, she’d have no say in what he did to her. “What if I want him to do more of something? Can I just tell him?”
“Ah, no.” Cora snickered. “Never ask for anything, because you won’t get what you want, and he’ll punish you for topping from the bottom.” At Presley’s obvious confusion, Cora added, “Which means you’re giving him orders while pretending to be the submissive.”
Right. Dmitri had said to her, “At Club Sin, you are the submissive and are treated as such.” Presley concluded that bossing him around wouldn’t be a smart move on her part and instantly pushed the thought from her mind. She hesitated a moment, then got right to the deeper concerns: the insecurities that had been plaguing her all day. “What if I get nervous?”
“He’ll comfort you.”
Okay, terrific, however . . . “How will he know what I want and don’t want?”
Cora shifted on the couch, bringing her feet up and wrapping her arms around her knees. “You’ll set out your limits, and he won’t overstep them. Besides, Dmitri is an amazing Dom—he’s been living the lifestyle a long time—and he’ll know what you need in a scene.”
Good and all, but her mind still worked a mile a minute, and worries made her voice sound clipped. “What if I change my mind? Like I thought I wanted something but I decide I don’t like it.”
Cora’s brows drew together as she rested her chin on her knee. “Use your safe word.”
Presley’s muscles tensed as thoughts of her under Dmitri’s command overwhelmed her. Hearing of his experience didn’t help much, considering that not only would this be her first scene, but she’d slept only with Steven. Compared to Dmitri, she lacked any skill at all, or so she assumed. “What if I’m not enough for him? Or I’m doing it all wrong?”
“Deep breaths, girl, you’re overthinking this.” Cora took her hand and squeezed. “Dmitri will tell you what he expects from you. He’ll lay it all out, so stop stressing.” Her head tilted and her expression softened. “He’s one of the best Doms I know. You’re lucky to get not only one night with him, but more, until he thinks you’re trained. There is no one better, honestly.”
Presley wished she could switch off her head and listen to what her body told her, but an ugly thought grating her all day had spilled from her lips before she could stop herself. “What if he doesn’t like me as a submissive? Like I’m not good at it?”
Cora’s eyes crinkled. “You’re sexy as hell, Presley. What won’t he like?”
“I don’t know.” She hated to admit this, since she sounded so damn insecure—leftovers from Steven’s betrayal, she was sure—but nonetheless it was something she couldn’t ignore. With the comfort of her friend, she spelled out the truth. “What if he gets me into the scene and realizes I’m boring?”
“Honey . . .” Cora gave a shrewd grin. “A D/s relationship is intense. Believe me, Dmitri won’t allow for you to be boring.”
Presley could only hope she didn’t take the award for the worst submissive of all time. Before she could spit out another round of questions, her cell phone beeped, and she reached for it on the coffee table. Once she glanced at the screen and saw the message was from Steven, she wished she hadn’t looked.
It was great seeing you yesterday. Can we talk?
Terrific, just what she needed to add to her already unstable mood. Why was Steven taking an interest in her again, anyway? Until she’d seen him at Scores, it had been a good month without any contact at all, which she preferred. Perhaps because he’d heard she was dating someone else, he now wondered about her life. Perfect. Her desire to stick it to him had made him . . . what . . . jealous? The thought nearly made her laugh, since he was the one who’d cheated. Sometimes—most of the time—men made no sense at all.
“Who is it?” Cora asked.
Presley hit the delete button, not wanting Cora to get peeved; she certainly didn’t want to give Steven a second thought. He’d get the hint soon enough from her ignoring him. It had worked last time, after she’d told him for the hundredth time that she couldn’t forgive him and she didn’t want to be friends. She hadn’t a doubt in her mind that it’d work again.
Lifting her head, she put on her most innocent smile. “No one important.” She placed her cell phone on the coffee table. “But we do have something important to discuss.” At Cora’s curious brow, she added, “Proper kneeling position and must-have hard limits.”
Chapter Eight
Later that night, Presley arrived at the mansion with Cora, and Dmitri took her to his office to fill out the limits section of her agreement, which would be in effect until her training concluded. After that, a new agreement would need to be drafted, limits stated, and the document re-signed.
The club had certain hard limits that were nonnegotiable: No fire play. No catheters or enemas. No breath play. No urination or defecation. No knives, needles, piercing, cutting, or blood. If a Dom or submissive didn’t agree to those terms, Club Sin wasn’t the dungeon for them. There were other Vegas clubs that allowed such play, or so Dmitri had told her. His club, his rules, he said.
Presley was perfectly happy with the rules, since every one of those suggestions, she would’ve added to her hard limits in big bold writing. She had added one soft limit: No intercourse in the dungeon. The thought of having sex in front of a crowd paralyzed her, though it didn’t outright horrify her. Maybe she’d be open to such an experience at some point, but right now, she couldn’t go there.
