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He steeled himself for what she’d do with that. Everybody loved vanilla but few liked to be identified by it—though the definition was a damn accurate fit for what the rest of the world seemed to many kinksters. Didn’t stop vanillas from acting like they’d just been wrongfully tagged as something close to terrorists.
To his pleasant shock, the woman simply shrugged, spread her hands, then offered, “Everyone has to start somewhere.”
Franz submerged the craving to scoop up both those hands and press awed kisses to their backs. Yeah, even right now, with her naked chest still begging him for a lot more than kisses.
Instead he replied, “In kink, that place is usually discovering the whips, chains, and spreader bars aren’t the point. They’re helpful in getting to the point, but they’re only tools, like paint brushes to an artist or guitar strings to a musician.”
That secret weapon of her attention went full ju-ju on him again. No; the force of her gaze was beyond that. She looked fascinated. Rapt. “So what is that point?”
He splurged a little, lifting one of her hands and bestowing that kiss, before answering, “Connection. Honesty. Moving past the normal bullshit, so you can be open for relating to a person on a deeper level.”
He kept their hands clasped. Her fingers twined tighter into his. “Pushing past the fear.”
“Sometimes,” he hedged, “yes. And sometimes, the dynamic helps people just figure out what the fear is.” A deep breath went in then out before he clarified, “Taking off your clothes, getting tied up, or even being the one wielding the flogger…that’s all outward delineation for what’s happening on the inside. Shit on both sides of the dynamic gets broken down, stripped away, exposed for its truth. It’s beautiful, but sometimes it’s messy. And lots of times, yeah, it’s frightening. That’s why safe words exist, and why many kink clubs won’t allow people to drink then play.”
The statements, clearly sinking in with her, also spurred a dreamlike expression. “Kink clubs,” she finally echoed. “So…a lot of those around, hmmm?”
“Oh, yeah.” Other than a small chuff, Franz focused on modulating his own expression. As if it did any good. The way the woman could delve to his soul with just a touch, he was certain she’d see straight to the truth this time too. They exist, and they thrive—and they’re owned by guys like me. Aloud, he confessed, “It was in one of them, actually, that I finally found the answers to a lot of my questions.”
“The reasons why you were drawn to all of it.”
Not a note of judgment colored her tone. She simply held his hand, truly interested in knowing this about him—and while the subject matter wasn’t the usual, he sensed she’d be just as interested if he’d admitted to being a Mount Everest Sherpa in his spare time.
Damn.
It felt…nice.
Better than nice.
He finally scraped out of his amazed gawking to scrape out a response to her. “Yeah.”
The corners of Tracy’s lips hitched. “And?”
“And what?”
“The reasons?” she reminded. “Everything that drew you to BDSM?”
“Ah.” He whooshed out a breath. “Yeah. That.”
She squirmed, backing up the new edge of dubiety in her stare. “Messy?”
He shook his head. “Long.”
“Highlights reel?”
He set a smile free. Her verbal shorthand, always knowing what to pull out of his soul’s narrative and notate, was on point again. Scarily so. But as he’d just admitted to the woman, fear had been his middle name for eleven years—sans the last six months.
It felt pretty good to be frightened again.
Because of her.
Forher.
So for her, he sliced through the fear—and yanked up the truth.
But not before slipping his hand free and moving it to the creamy valley between her breasts.
With knuckles stroking that warm vale, he said, “It all boils down to the fact that I’m an arrogant piece of work.” Too much of it was the truth to even think of diluting, so he maintained his rhythmic strokes over her flawless flesh. “I’m ignited, in my spirit and my body, to know I can help another person open up to new parts of themselves. I’m happy, seeing the beauty of a submissive’s pleasure by my hand…watching them come undone then find their sanity again.”
