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“No,” he replied, unwilling to bring her pleasure until she’d answered all of his questions apparently. “I want the whole truth here, Holly. Earlier you said the reasons you forbade yourself from reentering the lifestyle were based in part on trust. A Dom needs to trust his submissive as much as a submissive needs to trust her Dom. Don’t you know that?”
She thought about that for a minute. Was he telling her the truth, or was he just trying to coax out information? Why was it so doggone important for him to hear the facts about her past straight from her? Hadn’t he learned enough about her when he went snooping for information? What else did he need?
“You want confirmation?”
“Something like that,” Kit admitted.
“If you know so much, why do you care if I confirm or deny it? You have enough proof from my former boss, I’m sure. If he set out to ruin my life…”
“He isn’t against you.”
“Like hell, Kit. He was and is trying to strip me of everything that is or was important to me. I have some dignity left.”
“I want you to have a lot of pride,” Kemper told her. “We both do, Holly. Still, I have to agree with Kit now. If you postponed submitting to us because of trust issues, then it’s important to put the past behind you. Let’s talk about all of our secrets.” He immediately turned to Kit. “If you want to know about her past and she asks about yours, you will tell her or I will.”
Ki
t snarled. He didn’t make a comment. He just gave Kemper a cold stare.
She swallowed hard.
“How many?” Kit remained committed to his cause. “Damn it, how many!”
“There were fourteen,” she breathed, remembering he’d promised to fuck her. “And you made a promise. I won’t let you back out.”
“I imagine you won’t,” he snipped. “Fourteen? Really?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Considering her age, that wasn’t a lot of partners.
Then again, since she hadn’t slept with anyone until after she turned twenty-one, maybe she would’ve gotten around if the Keesling brothers hadn’t saved her from her life in Nashville. The problem was clear. She spent several years with the same man. After having sex day in and day out, she sort of went buck wild when she couldn’t bump and grind whenever the need arose.
“Your boss says you’re a sex addict. Is that true?” Kit asked.
“My boss wishes I’d been a sex addict,” she said, feeling like she was being pressured into admitting something she wasn’t ready to face.
“Well, are you?”
“Hell no,” she said. “Well, maybe.”
“You are?” Kemper asked, arching a brow. “Shit, our luck keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” He actually sounded like he was making light of the situation. At the moment, Holly didn’t appreciate his humor.
Kit frowned. “A sex addiction isn’t as pretty as it might sound. Is it, Holly?”
She shook her head, felt the overwhelming desire to break free of the binds and just run. She wanted to get away then, run as far and as fast as she could. This conversation took a hard turn toward the uncomfortable, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now. Where did they go from here?
Kit was right. It wasn’t a pretty sight. If they only knew how obsessed she’d been with them, with having sex all the time, they’d swear she was crazy.
Worse, as of late, she’d begun to think about the possibilities. If they didn’t let her take them to bed whenever she had the urge, how long before she’d hit the town and find someone else to mess around with? Was it possible she would eventually stray even though she greatly frowned upon those who were unfaithful in their relationships?
She didn’t want to be that woman. She didn’t want to be that girl. And she understood if she were to make the most out of this confession, she needed to be open and honest. She needed to let them help her because without a doubt, she needed something to settle the uneasiness, the growing discontentment she’d been dealing with more frequently.
Kit released a sigh of relief and stroked her head. “How do you propose we handle this, Holly?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, trying to defy the tears welling in her eyes. “Maybe you could fuck me a few more times every day?”
Kit released her arms and tilted his head toward her legs, which Kemper immediately untied. Kit carried her to what she first had thought might have been a closet. He nudged the door open with his foot and entered a small bedroom, so sterile and sanitized, the cleaner literally filled her senses.
He released her then and sat on the bed next to her. “How do you think you can best help yourself?”
