“For this week, Poppy, I am.” I dropped her hands and moved my attention down to her feet where there wasn’t an engagement ring catching the light like a big ol’fuck you. I ran my thumb against the outside of her ankle up her calf and she moaned.That’s more like it.
“Why don’t you check the top drawer of your nightstand?”
She gave me a skeptical look, narrowing her eyes, before reaching over and sliding the drawer open. She gasped, pulling the small plastic box of salted caramels out and cupping them in her palm.
I expected a smile. Or at least a thank you. But instead, she yanked her foot from my grasp and swung her legs around the edge of the bed. “No. Shit. I’m so… I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to tell you something.”
My blood turned icy in my veins and my stomach concaved, like a wrecking ball connected to my gut. “Tell me what?”
“I screwed up. It was an accident, I didn’t realize what I asked was so bad until after. But…” her voice cracked and with it, my guts twisted. I’d never seen her like this. She was distraught. Her full, pink lips twisted, lines furrowing between her brows and tears filled her eyes.
She took a deep breath and said, “Last night… with Ash…” her voice faded. Not that I needed to hear a whole lot more. Oxygen punched from my lungs and I felt instantaneously light-headed. It was happening. Again.
No. Not Marly. Marly wasn’t Layla. I took a deep breath and looked at Marly.Reallylooked at her. She clutched her trembling hands, trying to stop the violent tremors. She chewed the inside of her cheek and her eyes were wide and panicky. It was the look of guilt. No… not guilt.Remorse. “Last night, with Ash…” I repeated, urging her to continue and trying to keep the tight edge out of my voice. But right now, this confession was an unsheathed blade, pressed to my belly, ready to slice me open.
Her eyes drifted closed. “Last night, I asked Ash to hit me with the riding crop.” She swiveled to face me and draped her palm over mine. “But it was only on the wrist so that I could feel the difference between howyouhit and how he hits.” Her confession came out so fast, the words ran together. She sniffed and blinked, tears dancing at the edges of her eyes.
She asked Ash to hit her.
I’d been sucker punched once in the seventh grade. By Tommy Martin the morning after my mom was elected to city council. She beat out Tommy’s dad and as I closed my locker… there was Tommy, towering over me and slamming his fist just below my ribcage. I fell to the floor, the wind literally knocked out of my lungs.
It had been my only sucker punch… until Layla. But even that wasn’t a total surprise. There were signs with Layla; small details I slowly started picking up on and piecing together the truth. The light, lingering scent of male cologne on her neck when she got home. The way she would come in late and run to the shower before even kissing me hello, as though she could rinse away her infidelity. This? Here with Marly? This was totally unexpected. And it hurt a hell of a lot more than Tommy’s thirteen-year old fist. And in a weird way… it even hurt more than with Layla. Differently. Not nearly so publicly.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “When I asked him to do it, I didn’t realize it was a betrayal. I just… I just was researching. Curious what the different type of pain would feel like with a Dom who was a sadist. It wasn’t until he explained how terrible of a betrayal it would be to you…” she sighed, cutting herself off. “Well, not explained as much as shouted and stormed out of here.”
My gaze jerked back to her eyes. “Ash yelled at you?” The thought of that made me furious—not at Ash necessarily. My friend was watching my back, like any good buddy. But the thought of anyone shouting at Marlena was the equivalent to watching a puppy get kicked. I sat there staring at her, at a total loss for words. This whole thing just seemed so unlike Marly. Her face was white, like a crumpled piece of tissue paper. I hated that expression. Hated the way her beautiful, plump mouth turned down at the corners. Hated the single tear that escaped and cascaded down her cheekbone to the corner of her frown.
I pressed my eyes closed. This couldn’t be happening. Hell, Marly and I weren’t eventogetherand I somehow felt cheated on.
If you’re not together and you feel cheated on… maybe that’s not Marly’s fault, a little voice echoed in my head.
“I’m sorry,” Marly said again. It sounded genuine. Then again, so did Layla the first time she apologized. “I get it now and it won’t happen again without discussing it with you first.”
Not ‘it won’t happen again’… but ‘it won’t happen without a discussion first.’ Somehow, that statement felt more honest than an empty promise of faithfulness. Anyone can make a promise to not do something again—many have made that promise. And many have broken it. But a promise to communicate? That was good. It showed growth and knowledge of the lifestyle and a trust that she can come to me with her desires.
But I still didn’t fuckinglikeit. “I thought you didn’t share, either,” I said. “I thought it was one of your hard limits, too.”
She shrugged. A small gesture, bringing one frail shoulder to her ear. “If I was truly in this Dom/sub relationship, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”
I swallowed hard. “But?”
“But… we’re not. And I’m here to learn for the sake of the movie. For the sake of doing Holly justice onscreen. And…”
There was more to this. Something beyond the words she had just said and I narrowed my eyes, studying her. Staring at her.
Marly shifted her weight, twitching and chewing her nails. “And… I gave you hard limits when this was all just a theoretical thing.” She gestured around the room as if it was a symbol for BDSM. “But how can anyone really know what their hard limits are, when you’re only just beginning to open your eyes to things you never thought you’d like.”
Oh. Oh my God. Of course.Iknew Marly was a natural submissive. Butshedidn’t know that. I could tell she was enjoying our little games—everything from her flushed cheeks, to her tight nipples told me so. But for as much as I knew and could read her reactions… she was still figuring it all out. “You’re surprised at the fact that you like this.” She didn’t even wait for me to finish speaking as she nodded, her eyes drifting to the ground.
Something between us was shifting. The way she was opening up to me. Relinquishing control. That planner she was so obsessed with had been beside her bed every morning, as if she was scribbling in it every night… but this morning? It was in her bag by the sink. Was she letting go of that obsessive need to dictate every minute of every day?
I scrubbed a hand down my face and paced to the window. Was it truly a betrayal if the person didn’t realize she was betraying you? My mind said no… but it didn’t change the sick, aching pang just behind my ribcage. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Okay.”
Her gaze jerked up to meet mine. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I repeated. “I can’t say I like it. But I understand it.”I can’t say I like it?It was the fucking understatement of the century. “I had planned for us to go to the public flogging tonight. I think it would be good for you to see, if you’re still up for that—”
She nodded. “I am.”
