Page 22 of Crave Me
By the time I was on the bondage section, my sex was dripping wet. Every time I shifted, I felt the moisture at the apex of my thighs. I was soaking my robe.
Shit.I cursed my wounds and scrapes on my back, the stupidity I went through last night. We could potentially be playing right now if I hadn’t been so naive.
As I held the pen over the Interested column, I scanned and found the one thing I didn’t want to happen ever again.
I crossed outcaningand went back to the top. Then, before I could grow fearful of the list, things I didn’t even fully understand, I drew a line through the rest, and marked it all as interested before I read the rest of the contract. One paragraph jumped out at me.
All playtime will occur at a pre-determined location. Location will be sent from Dom to sub via text messaging. No contact, other than aftercare—verbally or otherwise—after each session will occur during the agreed upon, temporary time frame. Sub will be given twenty-four hours’ notice before each play time activity, and will be instructed to follow each rule the Dom provides.
A lump formed in my throat as I read the paragraph, and then reread it.
The words were plain and clear. I was a plaything. He was a plaything. Other than bodies and orgasms, we weren’t anything to each other.
For a moment, my hand hovered over the signature page where I’d already signed, debating whether I should cross it out and end this. His intent was glaringly obvious.
“Everything okay?” Simon asked, his hand brushing along my shoulder on his way into the kitchen.
I jumped. He always seemed to break me out of my daydreams and fears when my mind was running away from reality.
“I’m good.” I closed the contract and flicked it onto the counter, tossing the pen on top of it. “And finished.”
“Very well.” He dropped a towel from the counter he’d picked up, and grabbed the contract. “Any questions for me?”
“No.”
He flicked through the pages quickly, eyes narrowing when he got to the section of the specifics. His head jerked up and he glared at me. “You marked them all except one.”
“I trust you to know what’s best for me.” My voice was shaky. I hoped like hell he believed me. When he dropped his eyes back to the contract and didn’t move a page, I explained further. “I don’t know what I’ll like or want or need until I try it. I would have crossed out the things you did, but other than those and the caning, I’m not sure where to begin.”
He glanced at me briefly before flipping to the end of the contract. Then he set it on the counter and turned the pages back to the list of specifics. Back to the caning. He reached for the pen and crossed out my Not Interested, switching it to Might Be Interested.
“What?” My eyes bugged out at his move.
“I want it on the table. Doesn’t mean we’ll ever get to it. A proper caning will not be anything like you received at Luminous. That wasn’t caning, it was sadism, and I don’t even know what in the hell it was, to be honest. But it was wrong, administered in all the worst ways. If you ever trusted me enough to ever want to explore it, I want to show you how good it could be. But we’ll never do it, unless you bring it up. Understand?”
I reached for my wine, but changed my mind. He clouded my head enough without needing more alcohol. “Okay. I trust you.”
His gaze pierced mine, the gray-blue turned darker. A flicker of a wicked smile twisted his lips before disappearing. “You’ll need a new safe word, obviously.”
Heat hit my cheeks and travelled down my neck. Just the mention of the safe word I’d used for months embarrassed me since he’d heard me. “Right. Let’s go to the standard red.”
“Yellow for pause?”
I couldn’t think of a thing he could do to me I’d want to slow down, but it made sense. “Okay.”
He signed his name then, and placed the contract back into the folder. “Good. Now tell me, did reading and thinking of me doing those things to you make you wet?”
