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Her words resonate with me more than she knows. I think back to the sex we had, and how even though I enjoyed it, part of me felt a little ashamed afterwards. That was my first time having sex with someone like that before, but I enjoyed playing the submissive role more than I ever thought I would.
I like it when he is dominant with me, ordering me around. I feel calm when he is telling me what to do. And even though this wasn’t what Lorelai was talking about, exactly, it still makes me feel better.
I shouldn’t be ashamed of taking this role with Lasta. It’s not hurting anyone, and it’s something that both of us need. I only need to answer to myself.
When he is in control of me, I can feel how much he needs it, how much I need it. What’s so wrong with that?
“Thank you.” I smile at her. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be ashamed.”
“I’m glad we could be of help, but I’m afraid we must get back to our chambers. It’s been awhile since I’ve checked in with the nanny on duty today.”
“Thank you, Lorelai, and thank you as well, Princess. This has been an eye-opening conversation for me.” I stand and curtsy respectfully.
“Please, call me Rory.” The Princess beams as if we are old friends.
“And if you ever need anything, you know where to find us,” Lorelai adds before the two of them walk away.
While I watch them disappear into the castle, I think about how one conversation can change everything for you, or at least help you see things in a way you hadn’t before. As I walk back to the forge to continue my shift, I mull over their words a bit more.
Could a real relationship with Lasta be possible? How would that even work? Is that something he even wants or am I just a bedsport for him?
I wonder about these things for the rest of the day. Even though I’m still just as confused as ever, I at least feel less ashamed of my desires. If two women like Lorelai and Rory can be in loving, real relationships with naga, then why can’t I?
Even if mine might be alittleless orthodox than theirs.
14
LASTA
Krista wanders around the gardens, illuminated only by the moonlight and waiting for me to appear. I have a bone to pick with her. During the day, I saw her talking with amalehuman slave. A little too enthusiastically.
She can smile freely with him, it appears to be.
She paces by the flower bed, admiring the colorful assortment. She kneels down to touch the petals softly. For some reason, it irks me to see her treat it with such gentleness. Even her expression changes completely, wistful and dazed.
I approach her, making my footsteps known.
“Krista,” I announce, waiting for her to see me.
She jumps up a little after hearing my gruff voice. Her dazed expression vanishes, and I’m met with a polite smile. I growl at the sight, and once she’s in arm’s reach, I grab her jaw and kiss her vigorously.
“L-Lasta,” she tries to protest between our lips.
Once I’m somewhat satisfied, I let her go. She pants for air, and her cheeks flush red.
“W-what was that for?” she asks, covering her blush with her hands.
“I don’t like the way you stare at inanimate objects,” I retort.
“You mean the flowers? But they’re plants?”
I frown. “Don’t act coy with me. If you’re going to look foolishly charmed by anything, it’s going to be me.”
She tries to suppress a smile, but the corners of her lips want to lift up. I narrow my eyes, daring for her to even giggle about it when I’m not playing around. I inch my face closer to hers, waiting for even a hint of laughter.
Krista looks away. “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry,” she answers softly.
“That’s what I thought.”
