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"Lara told me."
I frowned. "I'd rather not. Can't we talk about something else?"
"This is important. I need to understand what happened, what he did, how you responded. It will help me know what to do to make you relax and trust me."
I sighed. "I don’t like talking about him. He's a bad memory."
"I need to know why your memory of him was bad. Look, he obviously made mistakes with you. He was a total amateur. I won't make those mistakes. Besides, think of this as research. You tell me what he did, and I'll tell you where he went wrong and how I'd do it properly. If we never do anything more, at least you'll understand."
I stirred my soup a bit. "I met him through Doctors Without Borders. He used to fly people into remote camps as a volunteer. He was doing his MBA and we started to date."
"How soon did you have sex with him?"
"A couple of weeks. We went out for coffee a lot at first, and then had dinner. Then we went to a movie and he came over and we had sex."
"What was it like for you the first time? Did you come?"
I exhaled heavily. "Are you going to ask for a moment by moment accounting of our relationship?"
"Yes." He turned back to his soup and took a spoonful. "I need details to understand what your experience was and why it went wrong. So," he said again. "Did you come the first time?"
"No, I didn't. It took a while. But I did eventually."
"What did it?" he asked as I ate my soup. "What was it that allowed you to have an orgasm?"
"You sound like a sex therapist."
He cracked that grin, his eyes mischievous. "That's one way of thinking about me. But seriously, what did you do that allowed you to orgasm?"
"I don't know," I said, exasperated, glancing around to see if there was anyone in earshot. "We were a bit drunk, and
I just, I don’t know… I was more relaxed. He did things for a long time and I was more ready."
"How exactly did he work you up?"
"Drake!" I turned to him, frowning. "We're having supper."
He smiled. "I'm not asking because I want to become aroused. I'm asking so I understand what you need. What you like. A Dom must trust his sub to tell the truth at all times. She must trust him enough to tell the truth. Otherwise, it won't work."
"I thought that was what the agreement is for."
"It is but we have to talk openly. I want you to get used to being totally honest with me about sex. You can say anything. Anything. I've heard it all."
"Not from my lips."
"No, not from your lips," he said, smiling. "And I can't wait to hear it from your lips in particular. I happen to love your lips, especially your scar. All I can think of when I'm with you is kissing you, licking your scar, sucking your lips, biting them. And I mean both sets." He licked his lips again just for emphasis and bit his bottom lip.
I turned away, trying to hide my heated face. The image of him kissing, licking, sucking and softly biting me aroused me, a twitch of lust in my now-swollen flesh.
"So, enough about your delicious lips that I want to suck and lick and bite. Tell me about flyboy. When did he start to introduce the idea of BDSM into your relationship?"
"After the books came out and it was on the news."
"What did you think at first?"
"I read the books but I didn't want it. I thought BDSM was about men who hated women and just wanted an excuse to hit them and get away with it. I thought it meant I wasn’t good enough the way I was. He wanted me to shave. He wanted to do anal. He wanted to spank me. He wanted me to let him mock-rape me."
"And how did that make you feel?"
