Knox
Rule #26: No loud activities after 9 pm.
The minute Gemma stuffed those onion rings in her mouth, I knew she was mad at me. Or, possibly, not at me, but at the general situation. It was veryGemmato use a pungent food to keep me at bay purposefully. But she wasn't going to get away with that so easily. I probably shouldn't have found it amusing, but I couldn't help but find every aspect of her character charming. And truly, watching her needle my mother in small ways had been more than a little satisfying.
I parked the car in the covered garage that adjoined the gym at our building, and we went in through the workout area and to the side stairwell. I watched her closely, noting that she'd stopped eating onions—when had food become some kind of mood ring?—and she kept darting intrigued glances my way.
I had my hands full of fast-food bags and drinks, so I let her lead the way up the stairs to our door, and she swiped her keycard over the pad with another look my way over her shoulder. I gestured for her to go in, raising my eyebrows and letting her stew in her curiosity. It had been a while since I had used ropes on a woman, and ordinarily, I preferred them with an experienced partner whom I knew for sure enjoyed them as much as I did. Also, it kept it safe for me when I could control how much touch happened in a sexual encounter.
But with Gemma, everything was abnormal where my qualifications for sex play were concerned. For one thing, I knew she wasn't experienced in Shibari or possibly even BDSM in general. Secondly, Iwantedher to touch me. I wanted it more than I wanted to press my lips to her breasts and bury myself inside of her. More than anything, I wanted her to run her hands over my skin and wrap her arms around me. And that was… new. Unusual.
If we were going to enter uncharted territory, then I needed to lay some groundwork with her. I deposited the fast-food bags on the island and handed her what was left of her soda. "Drink that," I said.
Gemma blinked at me. "I mean, I was going to, but alright."
"It's smart to be hydrated before we get into a session, but also," I said, leaning against the counter and folding my arms as I watched her take off her yellow coat. "There are other perks. Don't empty your bladder."
Her vibrant blue eyes widened. "Kinky."
I rolled my eyes. "It's not that kinky. Relax."
"What'snot that kinky?" she asked, smiling and coming to stand in front of me near the island.
"You asked me to share my hobbies with the class, so let's share. Have you ever been restrained during sex?"
Gemma swallowed a gulp of soda loudly. "Um, a little."
"Handcuffs?" I guessed. Our apartment had fallen into sunset shadows, and with only one light on in the kitchen, it gave the space a cozy glow. Gemma had her hair in a sleek, twisted bun that had taken me by surprise. She'd said she was playing the part for my mother, and I wanted to pull all the pins out myself and run my fingers through her soft, rose gold locks. She'd also put on a braid knit, dark green sweater that made her eyes look like a summer ocean, and I pulled her to me like I couldn't help myself. Probably because I couldn't.
Gemma angled her face up to mine, so much shorter than me that I sometimes wondered if she got a crick in her neck looking up at me. "Yes, handcuffs," she smiled.
"Fuzzy ones?" I pressed with a crooked smile.
Her lips rolled between her teeth. "Maybe."
"Figures. A couple other limits I want to go over for future reference. We can go over more in the future, but for tonight, how do you feel about spanking?
Gemma got a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Yes, please.”
Not surprising. “Edging?”
“Never tried it,” she admitted, sipping her soda again. “But I’m good to try.”
I nodded. “Shibari is restraint, and I know you said you were okay with it, but it’s not exactly the same as handcuffs. It isn't restraint for the sake of restraint." I traced her hairline with one finger, and she leaned into me, melding our bodies together. "It's a slow process, and it's meant to connect us better. It also requires a decent amount of trust." I hooked my finger under her chin to make sure she held eye contact for this. "I need to know you trust me."
She didn't waver when she whispered, "I do."
My next words caught in my throat, and I felt like a snare drum had started a trill in my chest. I smoothed my thumb alongthe curve of her chin. "If you trust me, then are you ready to learn?"
She nodded once. "Like 8-year-old me- who just got told there's a bouncy house at the party."
I cracked a grin. "Oh, there will be plenty of bouncing. Finish that soda and get on the bed. I'll meet you there."
She bit her lip again, smiling, and then backed away from me, letting the shadows swallow her before heading off to the bedroom. I let out a steadying breath, trying to find my bearings. Being near Gemma like this threw off my equilibrium and tossed my thoughts around in a frenetic jumble like they were rocks in a tumbler rather than coherent, logical ideas. I had to find a certain balance between setting boundaries and informing Gemma and still keeping things light and fun. It wasn't my intention to turn this into some kind of extracurricular night class. I wanted her to love it because,hell, if she loved it, too, then the possibilities were limitless.
I didn't even want to think about it too hard. It was too good to be true. Like every other relationship in my life, I was sure to fuck it up somehow. I shook my head, pushing away from the island counter.Not now,I chastised myself.You haven't ruined anything yet. Give Gem a chance. Give it a chance.
I went to the bedroom, tugging off my sweatshirt and shirt as I went. When I got there, I found that Gemma had turned on the small side lamp next to my bed, and she sat cross-legged in the middle, slurping her soda. She waved, letting her eyes rove over my body in an exaggerated way. I huffed out a laugh and purposefully dropped my shirt and sweatshirt to the floor. "Oh, look. I've made a mess."
