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“I’m asking you all these things because I want your answer. And I want your reaction.”
“My reaction,” I repeated. I had so many more questions, but I bit my tongue on asking them.
“Yes. Your reaction. You tell me much more with your reaction when I speak to you than with your verbal answer.”
“Oh.” Great. Was I that transparent?
“Anal.”
“Uh… cold.”
“What about with my tongue?”
“Warm.”
“My finger?”
“Warm.”
“Fisting.”
“I’m not sure I truly understand what that is. And which hole are we talking about now?”
“Bondage.”
I squirmed a little, feeling utterly naked, with the knowledge that he was reading me like a gasping, sweating open book. While I couldn’t see a damn thing here in the dark.
“Um… depends what kind?”
“The kind where you’re my prisoner until I say otherwise.”
“Can we… circle back to that later?”
“I told you. No more questions. That’s three questions in a row. I will give you some room to make mistakes because you’re new. But I don’t like repeating myself, Jolie.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just behave. Flogging.”
“Maybe. As long as it doesn’t hurt.”
“I told you to use hot, warm or cold.”
“Then I guess those last few are all warm, because right now they’re pretty much just a giant question mark.”
He drifted a fingertip down my spine. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah.” I giggled nervously and took a shaky breath.
“You’re happy.”
My smile faded. “I feel… vulnerable.”
“I didn’t ask.”
He didn’t have to ask. My happiness and my vulnerability right now were probably glaringly obvious to someone like him. I swallowed, my pulse pounding at my throat.
“Exhibitionism.”
