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“Good girl. I don’t know much about you since all your time here has been spent with Jasper. I’m not concerned, as long as you remember to communicate and use your safewords to let me know when I step over a line.” He leaned close enough to whisper, “I’m going to do my best to bend those lines, Archie.”
Fuck, he was scary when he was like this. If Jasper uttered those same words to her in that exact tone, she’d be creaming the gusset of her teddy and teetering on the edge of an orgasm. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“I am, just a taste. It will be minimal compared to what Jasper is capable of. We need to rile his protective instincts, get them to override his code. We need to make him see you at your strongest, and your most vulnerable. Have you scened before in public, naked?”
“Yes.”
“Comfortable with it?”
Not at all, but her Dom at that time hadn’t given a damn. “Not really, no, Sir.”
“How much experience do you have?”
Anarchy winced. How did she explain that, before Jasper brought her to her knees, she’d only dabbled with kink? Oh, she’d had the curiosity and the…well, craving for something other than plain sex, but her kink life before Avalon had been more of a game, something to do with her friends. If one of them was picked by a Dom for the evening, it was exciting, sure. But it had been nothing more than a social night out.
When Atticus looked down at her, eyebrow arched, she realized her mouth had been busy at work relaying every thought. Boy, that better not become a habit. “So, I’m assuming you’ve been restrained and flogged? Experimented with nipple clamps, anal play, orgasm denial?”
Her eyes popped wide. “Restrained and flogged,” she admitted as her buttocks clenched tight. “That would be a no to clamps and orgasm denial.” Thinking she was smart, she avoided the topic of butt stuff.
She might have forgotten, momentarily, that Atticus was smarter.
He smiled wolfishly. “Any other hard limits you’d like to add?”
“I…I want to try things,” she confessed in a whisper. She couldn’t look anywhere else but into his eyes, her head still angled back but supported by his hand. She didn’t mention she’d been saving her fantasies for Jasper, waiting for him to show her the world he lived in.
“Hmmm, brave girl. I enjoy a submissive with some spine.” He eased her upright, fingers digging into the strained muscles of her neck until the tension seeped away. “Think long and hard about this next one, Archie. Are you open to sexual contact and intercourse?”
She blinked once. Of course, he would want to fuck her. Not every Dom in Avalon left a scene with an erection; the majority of them found their release inside their subs, in one hole or another.
The question kicked off a huge tug of war inside her between loyalties and duty. Her loyalty to Jasper had a resounding No! poised on her lips, but her duty as a submissive—as Atticus’ submissive now—yanked her towards saying yes. She wasn’t a virgin, wasn’t afraid of sex, but Atticus wasn’t a small man in any shape or form—she highly doubted his cock wouldn’t match the rest of his immense size.
Her breath shuddered out. “I guess that would open Master Jasper’s eyes, wouldn’t it?” It would hurt him. The idea of causing him pain, even though he’d ripped her heart out and set it on fire, was unappealing.
Atticus grunted, shook his head. “That’s not why I’m asking, Anarchy. Dominance and submission are our weapons, not sex. He’s my friend; there’s no nefarious purposes for what we’re doing. We’re simply complying with his wishes on that front.” He paused, studied her. “I’m asking about sex because if you haven’t slept with him and you’ve been faithful to the idea of him, you’ve been neglecting your physical needs. I’ll help you with that if it’s what you want.”
Her pussy clenched. Atticus was right—for the moment, Jasper and his feelings couldn’t be factored into her decisions. He’d abdicated that right when he brushed her aside and brought in another Master to divert her attention from him. Why should she care what he would think or feel when he saw her with another man?
He hadn’t given her that consideration when he went off to scene with Tiffany, had he?
Maybe it wouldn’t harm her to let Atticus saddle her up and take her for a long, hard ride. A few more weeks and she’d hit the one-year anniversary since she last felt a man’s body on top of her, moving inside her. Since she last had an orgasm that wasn’t brought to life by her own fingers or stained by thoughts of Jasper.
“If I tell you sex isn’t what I want, then what?”
Atticus didn’t hesitate. “Then sex is off the table. You’ve been here long enough to know consent is king, sweetheart. You might not have had the opportunity to play under Avalon’s roof, more’s the pity, but Braun won’t stand for anything remotely nonconsensual. That’s why you and I are having this negotiation before we begin.”
She swallowed, slightly appeased by his answer. “If I say yes?”
“Well, we’ll have a short conversation on whether I get to fuck that tight ass of yours as well as your pussy. I’m voting for both, not that my opinion matters.” He gave her a lusty wink that nudged a smile to her lips. The barest of curves, but a smile, nonetheless. “Once you’re satisfied with the arrangement, we’ll take a walk next door and release some of that tension you’re carrying around on your shoulders like a rock.”
“I’m not tense,” Anarchy said with a brittle laugh.
Atticus’s laugh was heartier and a hell of a lot more humorous. “Sweetheart, if I shot you between the shoulders right now, that bullet would ricochet around the room. We’ll give you the three G treatment, make you feel a whole lot better, don’t you worry.”
Three G treatment? Oh God, did she even want to know? “Three G treatment?”
Evidently, part of her did indeed want an explanation.
He grinned. “The three G’s, sweetheart—a good flogging, a good orgasm, and a damn good fucking. Works like a charm for stress.”
