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"I want us to work as a couple," Drake said, his voice still soft, so in control. "Maybe you need me to take more control. Especially in a new place where nothing's familiar."
I stood up, feeling a strong need to change the subject and mood. I didn't like the way the conversation was going. TPE scared the hell out of me.
"I don't want TPE." I went to the patio doors and glanced out at the sky. Drake stayed on the couch.
"Our relationship can be anything we want it to be. It doesn't have to be total. It could be partial power exchange, in some situations and settings. Or only in the bedroom. It's whatever makes us both happiest. Maybe you need me to be more in control. Not totally, but more. I feel like you should have thought about me first when you decided to go out. You should have called me. Left a message. Even if you'd left a damn post-it note on the mirror, I wouldn't have been so upset."
I felt so confused, so upset at the thought of yielding more control to Drake. But at the same time, if I was honest, there was this tiny part of me that thrilled at the thought of Drake taking more control with me. I squashed it down. I couldn't be that kind of woman. I had most of a Master's degree in Journalism from Columbia University. I had non-fiction articles published in the school's student newspaper. I was an artist.
I wasn't one of those women…
The kind of woman who wanted their lover to be in control at all times, who decided everything for them.
"I am not O," I said, my voice firm.
He shook his head. "Of course you're not O. You're Katherine Marie McDermott. Very complicated, passionate, talented. You're also turned on by sexual submission to a dominant man. You need it to feel safe and free. You need a strong dominant man who frees you to feel whatever you can without judgment. I won't judge you, no matter how much control you need to feel from me."
"You always said you didn't want a submissive woman. You want a woman who submits in the bedroom."
He exhaled. "I want you, Kate. Whatever you need." He stood up finally and came to my side, standing close to me. He touched my hair, ran his hand over it and down my back. "I want," he said and pressed against the small of my back, pulling me against him. "I want you. You need D/s. Tell me it wouldn't make you feel insecure to top me."
I sighed. I tried to imagine ordering Drake around. I tried to think of him being submissive while I took the lead. It felt wrong.
"Am I right?"
I nodded but I didn't say anything. I thought we were coming to a place of comfort, with the degree of D/s between us about right. He always took control and the lead. I wanted him to take control. I liked going into subspace when I was tied up and helpless. I also liked the spontaneous sex we had without bondage or blindfolds.
"I thought we were doing really well. I thought you were getting what you want from the relationship."
"Kate, this is what drives me," he said and took my face in his hands. "I want to give you as much dominance and control as you need to be happy. I want to be the man who fulfills you, whatever that means. If you need me to take more control, I will. Gladly." He stroked my cheek with a thumb, his eyes on mine. "Tell me what you need, Kate. I'll give it to you exactly the way you want it."
I inhaled, my breath shaky. "I don't know what I need. I only know I want you."
"You have me. But I don't feel as if I have you yet. Not completely."
"You do have me. I love you."
"If I had you completely, you would have done everything you could have to let me know you'd be out. You would have thought of me first, and left a note, left a voice mail. You would have called as soon as your phone was charged. Instead, you had excuses for why you didn’t."
I felt like screaming. "I didn't even want to go out, but I did because Claire said I had to make my own life apart from you. That you’d be away so much that I'd become sad and feel neglected if I didn't. I went out with her because I felt I had to."
Drake left my side and went to the bar fridge in the kitchen area. He took out a small bottle of bourbon and poured the contents into a glass. Then, he went back to the sofa and sat on it, his feet up on the coffee table. I followed him and stood beside him, waiting for him to say something.
He said nothing for several moments, sipping on his drink.
"Say something."
Finally, he spoke, his voice controlled. "What should I say, Kate?"
"How are you feeling?"
He shot back the bourbon and placed the glass carefully on the coffee table.
"I'm upset," he said, his voice low, controlled. Matter-of-fact. "I'm upset that you went somewhere without telling me yourself. That you didn't make the effort. I'm upset that this whole evening has gone to shit and I was looking forward to spending it making you come several times."
That sent a pang of guilt through me and I didn't know how to respond. I merely stood there, waiting.
"Don't be mad at me," I said finally, still feeling a need to defend myself. "Me not leaving a note was thoughtless, but Claire was outside and I didn't want to keep her waiting. Then she forgot to tell Michael…"
