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Her dry wit made him choke back a laugh he didn’t think she’d find funny right now, but damn, he loved a woman who could hold her own. “Alright then. I don’t do regular, vanilla sex. Well, I do on occasion, but I prefer down and dirty, no-holds-barred kinky sex. With me in charge. I like to use restraints, rope, blindfolds, spanking, flogging and caning on my partner. All of it is consensual, but that’s what I like.”
Her eyes widened, but it wasn’t with the dismay or disbelief he’d expected. Her cheeks darkened, and her nipples beaded under that tight green elf sweater she wore. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, but nothing came out. Finally, she waved a hand in front of her face. “I, uh...wow.”
He cocked his head. “This doesn’t shock you?”
She gave a half-laugh and continued to fan her face. He could practically see the wheels turning in her brain, could see her tying what had happened at his house to what he’d just told her. “Shock? Yes, it does. I never would’ve guessed that about you. But I don’t think that’s what you mean. You want to know if I’m turned off by it.”
She really didn’t pull her punches. “Yeah.”
“I can think of about twenty different synonyms for the adjective that best describes what I’m feeling, but not a single one is disgust.”
Synonyms? Adjectives? “You really are a teacher, aren’t you?”
She blinked. “You knew that.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know I’d be getting a grammar lesson, and on Christmas, to boot.”
“Smart ass.” She threw a hunk of bread at him and sighed dramatically, but then she stilled. “I don’t have any experience with anything like this.”
“I didn’t think you did. Involvement with women who don’t know my preferences and want the same things I do has never been on my radar. But, kitten, though I’ve been involved with you on some level for five years now, I never expected that involvement to turn into something where I’d have to explain them to you. I never expected you to be single.”
“I know what you mean. I was married to Sam for six years. I ignored my feelings because I took my wedding vows seriously,” she said softly, “but for much of it, I wanted a man I couldn’t have. In the beginning, it was easy to bury my feelings because I loved Sam. But then things changed and—”
His heart twisted as she pushed herself out of her chair and went to the sink, looking out the window into the night, giving him her back.
“Bec?” In the glass, he could see her reflection, could see the way she worried her lip and closed her eyes.
“Maybe we do need to talk about Sam. About my marriage.”
His blood started simmering. “I’ll rip his fucking head off.”
Her head dropped forward.
He pushed back from the table and came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly to him. He bent his head against hers. “Tell me.”
“Sam has very definite ideas about what it means to be a proper Jewish woman.”
The simmer turned to a boil. “Only the woman, right? The man can do whatever he wants?” When she nodded, he swore. “Fuck that. That has nothing to do with being Jewish or Christian or any other religion. Sam expected those things of you because he wanted to control you.”
Her body went tense, and her voice came out in a tortured whisper. “And you just told me you like to be in control.”
Shit. “There’s controlling someone because you’re a jackass, and then there’s being in control as the dominant partner in the bedroom.”
She tried to push away from him, but he wasn’t having any of that. He turned her so she faced him then braced his hands on either side of her body, along the sink’s edge. “Look at me, kitten.” He purposely used a Dom’s tone, injected that note of command that would either piss a non-kinky woman off or make a submissive woman wet.
She blinked and met his eyes, her pulse throbbing in her neck, her cheeks pink.
Yes. He felt like pumping his fist in victory. It was a small step, and maybe the only one she’d allow, but at least she hadn’t clocked him or kneed him in his balls. “The difference is consent. His type of control is about taking all your true choices away, making you feel less of a woman, less of a competent person. It’s a control that takes, it’s one-sided, and in many cases it’s abusive.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “The control I like is about giving you the chance to be the kind of woman you want to be with no boundaries except the ones you set. I can’t take that control from you, in my world. You have to choose to give it to me, and if you do, I promise I’ll treat it with care.”
Her body trembled, and he knew she’d reached her limit on the discussion. He wasn’t ready for their time to end, not now, and not like this. He hugged her then drew her back to the table, pulling her onto his lap.
“What are you doing?” she protested, trying to stand.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and held tight. “I want you right here while we finish eating. I need to hear the rest of what happened with Sam, but it’ll keep.” He reached across the table and grabbed her bowl of stew. “Right now, I want to enjoy your company and spend Christmas night with you, starting with this amazing dinner you made.”
He dipped the fork into her stew and held the bite up to her mouth. “Open for me, kitten.”
She rolled her eyes but opened her mouth. He fed her the bite, then took one of his own as he watched her chew and swallow. He dipped a piece of bread in the broth and held it up to her mouth, locking eyes with her.
