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He tips his head from side to side, eyes sparkling. “Some elements can be fun.”
I study him with new eyes, barely able to breathe. “You’re a… Dom?” The thought of him saying that acronym to a girl… to me… oh my. It gives me a funny feeling deep inside. Would I like it? I’m not sure.
But he says, “Not in so many words. I’m not part of the BDSM world, and I don’t go to sex clubs or anything. I just find the dynamic interesting.”
The dynamic. Does he mean he likes his women to be submissive to him?
Jo said,There are worse things than being called a good girl, and I’ve heard her call Ian daddy before. Does that mean they’re into the Dom/Sub thing? Wow. I’m so ignorant.
“Do your girls call you Daddy?” I ask Damon.
“Jesus…” He rolls his eyes.
“I’m curious. Seriously, Damon. Who else can I ask? Alex?”
“Yeah, all right. No, I’m not into the Daddy Dom thing. And I’m not into restraints or impact play.”
More words I haven’t heard of, in this context anyway. “Restraints—you mean like handcuffs?”
“Yeah.”
“You did mention handcuffing me to the steering wheel.”
“It was a joke, Belle. Or at least I’d use silk scarves, not handcuffs.” He smirks.
I daren’t think about him doing that to me. “What’s impact play? It sounds like when Jerry hits Tom with a saucepan.”
That makes him laugh. “It’s when you use something to strike the other person.”
“You mean whips?”
“Yeah. Or paddles or canes.”
“Holy shit.” My eyes are so wide I think my eyeballs are close to falling out and bouncing on the carpet. “You like whips and stuff?” I whisper.
“Definitely no whips and stuff,” he says firmly.
“So you’re not into punishment?”
“Depends how bad you’ve been. The occasional smack with a hand might be needed if you’ve been really naughty.” Once again, he talks as if he’s about to take me to bed. His lips curve up, and then he gives a short laugh. “The look on your face…”
“You’re enjoying shocking me, aren’t you?”
“Kinda.”
I glance around, unable to believe I’m having this conversation with Damon Chevalier, of all people. But there’s nobody around—the lounge is practically deserted now. I look back at him, a shiver running down my back as I discover him watching me, his eyes slightly hooded. I know he wouldn’t make a move on me, but is this turning him on, too?
I clear my throat. “When I asked if you were a Dom, you said ‘not in so many words.’ So you are sort of one?”
He rests his head on his hand again. “I’m not really into labels. I like what I like. I guess if I had to label myself, the closest would be Soft Dom, but again, it’s a loose term.”
“What does that mean?”
“Google it.”
I type it in and then read out the definition. “A Soft Dom isn’t into sadism or humiliation. They like to use praise and encouragement to give their submissives pleasure. They don’t punish submissives and are patient and nurturing. They like to encourage their submissives to be the best version of themselves, and they enjoy caring for, pleasing, and protecting their submissives. They are the gentlemen of the BDSM realm.”
I lift my gaze to him. He smiles. “Like I said, I’m not into the whole BDSM thing, but I like the dynamic.”
