Page 74 of Tex (Burnout 2)


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“Having second thoughts?” he asked.

“Yeah, but not about you.”

“What then?”

She sighed. “My last lover was boring. With a capital B. Which I never thought about much before, because I don’t think about sex much. Or, really I do think about sex, a lot, but I don’t think about having it.” She frowned. “That made no sense.”

“It did to me. So he was boring.”

She shrugged. “I thought so, but now I think maybe I was the boring one. Because the ones before that were kind of demanding. But not in the way that you’re demanding. Demanding in ways I didn’t like. I don’t know. Fuck. I’m tired. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Say it anyway.”

“They wanted things from me. Wanted me to do stuff to them. With them. Like Jeff’s girlfriend jumped out of a cake and gave him a striptease for his birthday, why can’t I be cool like that? Because I am not Jeff’s girlfriend!”

Mark laughed. A rolling belly laugh that shook the whole bed. “Pet, it would be next to impossible for you to jump out of a cake and take your clothes off. You don’t like people looking at you sexually and you sure as hell aren’t comfortable being the center of attention in that way.”

“They wanted me to do everything. Like take charge. I thought they were boring. Or lazy, but-” She paused. “Shit! They wanted me to be like you! Am I so screwed up that people can’t tell if I’m a Domme or a sub?!”

“No,” he said reassuringly. “Not anyone who knew what they were doing. It was pretty obvious, though, that you were one or the other, at least to some degree. You’re way too in control of everything. Very confident, very calculating. But a lot of type A people are Dominant in public and submissive in the bedroom. It didn’t take more than a few minutes alone with you to figure out which side of the fence you were on.”

She thought about this. “It was the hair thing, wasn’t it?” she asked, remembering when he’d grabbed her hair on their first night together and asked her if she was ready to get fucked.

He chuckled. “Yep. Pretty tried and true method. Dominant partners will give it right back when their partners get aggressive. Subs will either submit or be confused by their reaction to it. Submissive people, though, don’t always actually submit. Some are afraid of it and push it down where they never have to admit what they want. And a lot of Dominant people never raise a hand to spank anyone in their lifetime. Just because someone’s a D-type or an s-type doesn’t automatically mean they’ll be open to exploring that.

“You have a lot of hangups,” he told her. “ ‘Anal is dirty’. ‘Don’t look at me naked’. And some weird feminism thing that even you don’t understand.”

She scoffed. “It’s not weird!”

“Pet, your philosophy, as I’m able to understand it, seems to be that a woman shouldn’t submit to man, even if it’s what she really wants. So according to you, there’s something women shouldn’t be allowed to do because they’re female. Which would be just about the polar opposite of feminism. You hide behind labels so you don’t have to deal with your sexuality. ‘Slut’, ‘Good Girl,’ these are important to you, I’m trying to figure out why.” He nuzzled her ear. “I’m also trying to teach you that my version of a good girl likes to get fucked.”

Heat pooled in her belly at his words and the liquid dark timbre in which he’d spoken them. She squeezed her thighs together. He kissed her, tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. One hand trailed down her back, drifting down, down, down until it found the plug and jiggled it a little.

She moaned.

“Only one or two more sizes to go, pet, until you’re ready for me.”

His other hand slid down her belly and his fingers played in her growing wetness. “Mmm. So fucking wet.” He took her mouth again with his own. When her lips were swollen with kisses he pulled away and grazed his mouth over her bare shoulder. “Do I hurt you, pet? Beyond what you can bear?”

“No,” she admitted. “I always think I can’t take it, but I do. And-” she stopped.

“And?” he prompted.

“Sometimes I like it,” she admitted.

“I know. That’s why we do it. If you preferred being in the tub covered in cotton candy and whipped cream while I ate it all off of you, we’d do that instead. I like it when you discover something new about yourself. I love it when you accept it and let go enough to enjoy whatever that might be without being worried if you’re a ‘slut’ or a ‘good girl’. In exchange for giving you pleasure, I ask that you be available for my use whenever and however hard I might want to use you.

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