All Grown Up Page 7

  “Just because we could doesn’t mean we should. I know you hate going through checklists, but it’s important. I’m not comfortable scening until I have an accurate idea of what you want.” He found himself relying on what he’d assumed in the past and that could be dicey.

  “Yes, Master.” She hung her head in resignation.

  He gave her a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any other marks she might not have been aware of. Her skin was so flawless he could spend hours exploring every inch. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  As he pulled her into his arms, her pussy rubbed against his stomach. The contact made his cock jump and his heart stumble. He buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck and shoulder. God, he never thought he’d have her in his arms again. Part of him feared this was just a cruel dream. If so, he prayed he’d never wake and know the truth.

  Steven carried her into the bedroom and dropped her on the bed. He withdrew a leather notebook, pen and an interest inventory form from his briefcase. “Start filling this out while I go get us a drink. Would you like a glass of wine or cup of cocoa?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “I would love some of your special cocoa.”

  He smiled as he headed downstairs to make her favorite late-night drink. In the kitchen, he pulled out all the ingredients and easily fell into his old routine. When she’d been cramming for a test or stressed out about something, he’d make her cocoa. They’d sit by the fire and cuddle. He was glad it was still a comfort for her.

  Once the milk was heated, he stirred in the cocoa, added a spritz of whipped cream and sprinkled a touch of cinnamon and sugar on top. It was dark outside and growing steadily colder, but in his heart it felt as if the sun were shining for the first time in years.

  He’d missed doing these little things for her. As much as he loved to fuck her, to take her hard, to mark and own her body, it was not being able to care for her that tore his soul to shreds when she’d left.

  Carrying the two mugs, he took the stairs with a hesitant euphoria. Letting her in again was a scary proposition. He knew he needed her, but if she cut and ran…

  Steven sat on the edge of his bed, taking in the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen there. Brianna set aside the notebook and picked up the mug with both hands. She took a delicate sip and her face lit up.

  “I’ve missed this. Nobody makes cocoa like you do. You could open a shop and outsell Starbucks.”

  He chuckled. “Not everyone shares your love of cocoa, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. How are you coming on the checklist?”

  “I finished most of it. If we’d never tried it or if I didn’t know what it was I put a check in the ‘need more info’ column.”

  “Great. What’s left?”

  She bit her lip and looked toward the covers. “Just the discipline section.”

  He shook his head. She’d always stalled and grew evasive when they discussed acceptable punishments. “You know I’m not going to let you off the hook so you might as well get it over with.”

  She hung her head in mock defeat. “My old argument still rings true. I shouldn’t decide my own punishment. There’s something fundamentally wrong with that.”

  A smile broke across his face. They’d had this discussion many times and yet here it was again like an old friend. Each time she shed a little more light into how her mind worked. “Everything about our relationship must be consensual and that includes what punishments, if any, you agree to.”

  Brianna took another slow sip. “I’m tempted to say none. Who in their right mind consents to a punishment?”

  He decided not to point out she’d done just that earlier this evening or that she’d been dripping wet from it.

  The pink blush covering her cheeks told him she didn’t want to take discipline off the table. She just wasn’t comfortable discussing it. “It’s your choice, pretty girl. If you decide it isn’t allowed, it’ll reduce my ability to guide you, but I will respect your wishes.”

  “No, I didn’t say I wouldn’t allow it. I like the dynamic it invokes.” Her voice was quiet and shy.

  “Then what’s wrong, Brianna?” He kept his tone soft and hoped she’d open up to him.

  She was quiet for so long and he wondered if she’d answer him.

  “It feels wrong on so many levels. Like I’m broken or weak for allowing anyone to punish me. I’m supposed to be an adult, to stand on my own two feet, not rely on someone else to teach me right from wrong. To feel excited by it…” She whispered the confession as if saying it out loud would be an unpardonable sin.

  He thought about her answer and how best to alleviate her fears. The more she opened up, the more insight he gained. “You think too much, Brianna. Sometimes you just have to go on instinct. Did your punishment earlier this evening teach you right from wrong?”

  She shook her head.

  “No, it didn’t and it wasn’t meant to, Brianna. You are very much an adult and you’ve been responsible for your own actions since before I first met you. Allowing me to be your Dom doesn’t change that. Think back to the few times I’ve ever truly punished you. What was the purpose behind it?”

  Again she was quiet and thoughtful. He hoped that maybe this time she would understand.

  “You wanted me to stop reflecting back on my actions and move forward.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. “Why would I equate a punishment with being able to let it go?”

  “You know the answer.” Brianna was still questioning why BDSM did it for her and clearly she feared that side of herself.

  Many subs struggled with finding pleasure through submission. It wasn’t the accepted stereotype of a modern woman. Brianna was strong and smart. Given enough time and support, she’d work through it.

  Right now, she was focusing on a small snippet of the lifestyle. Maybe she wasn’t ready to tackle the subject as a whole yet. While he knew exactly why it worked for her, she needed to find the answer within herself.

  “I see punishment as a way of atonement or facing the consequences of my actions.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Mentally, I can deal with that, but it doesn’t make it any easier to tell you what punishments to use.” Her short giggle told him how uneasy this discussion was making her.

  “If I chose a consequence that you didn’t approve of, you’d be thinking of the injustice of it and not be able to move on.”

  “You think too well on your feet. You always have an answer that furthers your cause,” she grumbled.

  “Our cause, Brianna,” he corrected. “This is about you and me finding our way.” She had struggled before with understanding why domination and submission aroused her. He’d often wondered if it had been the reason she’d left.

  “If I tell you what to do, it takes away the spontaneity. Over time, you’ll find it stifling. I trust you. If something happens that I truly can’t handle I have a safeword. So we don’t really need to have this discussion,” Brianna responded with a haughty air.

  Steven chuckled at her “I’m right and you’re wrong, so there” tone. “You’re working harder to avoid answering the question than it is to simply tell me what’s acceptable and what isn’t.”

  Brianna raised her eyebrow and frowned at him.

  “Think of our interactions as a painting. Your interest inventory is my palette. Just because you tell me what colors you like doesn’t mean that all pictures will look the same.”

  She set her mug on the nightstand, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. “Master, please don’t ask this of me.”

  He drank the rest of his cocoa and waited to see if she would allow him another peek at her inner thoughts. By the vein in her neck, he knew her pulse was racing. She wasn’t being coy. “Brianna, we never have to finish this conversation. If it’s too difficult for you, we’ll drop it. I wasn’t kidding when I said everything is consensual. But you need to understand, I will not dispense another punishment until you tell me what’s acceptable and what isn’t.”

  “I don’
t want that, Master.” She looked up at him and he saw tears in her eyes.

  “Only you can decide, pretty girl.” He shrugged, as if his heart wasn’t breaking. Seeing Brianna upset was like a poker to the gut, but he couldn’t give her the impression that open communication wasn’t necessary. “We can shelve it for now and discuss it when you’re ready.” Six years ago, he’d gone along as if everything was fine, so as not to cause her discomfort. He wasn’t making that mistake again. They could put the discussion on hold, but he refused to move forward with punishments until she gave him her thoughts on the matter.

  Brianna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Will you help me?” She avoided looking at him and picked up the notebook and pen.

  “Absolutely. Tell me what you need.” His heart was beating hard in his chest. She was trying to meet him halfway. He was so proud of her.

  “Can you give me specific examples?” Her face had taken on a deep-red tone, marking just how difficult and embarrassing it was for her.

  The interest inventory was broken down into subjects with a simple “interested”, “not interested”, or “need more info” as choices. Under the heading of punishment were several subjects.

  Steven slid onto the bed, arranged the pillows, and pulled Brianna onto his lap. “Let’s start with the easiest one.”

  Brianna snuggled against him for a few moments before speaking. “I guess that’s ‘impact’. We’ve experimented quite a bit with paddles and floggers and whips. I’m okay with those.” She grew a bit hesitant as if something upsetting had crossed her mind.

  “But…” He urged her to continue. Looking down at her breasts, he had an idea. Gently, he slid a finger over her curves, avoiding her nipple for the moment. He loved her breasts. The shape and their responsiveness were everything he remembered.

  As he caressed and explored, he heard her breathing hitch. Her body became soft and pliant. “Relax and talk to me. Don’t overthink, just tell me what comes to mind.”

  “Everything we’ve ever done was fine, but at one of the clubs I visited, a Dom was using metal-tipped implements. I don’t think I could handle that.” She closed her eyes as she spoke.

  “We’re on the same page there. I’ve seen those badly mar a sub’s skin, even drawing blood. I completely support that decision.” He tipped her chin upward and was pleased when she looked him in the eye. “I never want to harm you, Brianna.” His fingers closed around her nipple and gave her a soft tug. “This is ultimately about pleasure, both yours and mine.”

  She nodded as she pushed into his hand. “You also mentioned a cane. I’ve seen the bruises those can leave. I never want that level of pain.”

  “A cane can give everything from a massage to a brutal beating, depending on the technique used. However, if you aren’t comfortable with it…it’s out. No big deal, Brianna. What’s next?” He bent and kissed the top of her head.

  “There are three more I haven’t decided on, isolation, humiliation and deprivation. Will you give me some examples of those within a D/s relationship? My only point of reference was our DD/lg.” She was biting her lip and speaking quietly.

  He moved his right hand between her legs and nudged her thighs farther apart. “The lines between the different relationships blur all the time. There isn’t a hard-and-fast set of rules. We make it what we want it to be. But to answer your question, isolation could be anything from standing in a corner to being grounded.” With his left hand, he resumed fondling her breasts.

  “Those both sound like DD/lg. I don’t want that again.” Her voice sounded far away.

  Even though she was limiting his choices, he was very pleased she was speaking her mind. “Then mark ‘not interested’. It’s okay.” Her responses seemed to be coming instinctually now. As her arousal increased, the filters in her brain seemed to fall away. That was one behavior he planned to encourage. He just had to walk the fine line between holding the arousal strong enough to keep her talking and not so strong that she spoke in single syllables.

  She checked the appropriate box then tapped her pen over the word humiliation. “This is another dicey subject.”

  “I’m not comfortable with some of the accepted punishments in that category.” Hopefully, if she knew he had reservations it would calm her fears. “Is there anything that particularly excites you in this realm?”

  He knew immediately from her expression there was, but she wasn’t likely ready to share it now that he’d said he had issues within this realm. If he’d engaged his brain, he would have kept his opinions to himself. Touching her again was sending blood to his wrong head.

  “If I look at basic protocol from an outsider’s point of view, a lot of submission could be considered humiliation.” She shrugged. “Presenting on my knees, the use of formal titles for you, but only pet names for me…it all denotes humility.”

  Her words worried the hell out of him. His mouth was suddenly dry and a roaring filled his mind. He allowed his hands to roam free while he considered the implications. As much as she stimulated his body, she also brought him peace. The mere pleasure of his skin touching hers soothed something deep inside him. Right now, as he contemplated where this was headed, he needed that connection.

  Unless he’d misunderstood her statement back in his office, she’d asked him for a Master/slave arrangement. Now, she was telling him Dominant/submissive, a less restrictive form of BDSM, was humiliating. Where the hell was she going with this? What would he do if she wanted a vanilla relationship? He’d spent the better part of his adult life enjoying the lifestyle.

  “What are you saying, Brianna?” He tried hard to keep his voice casual and non-accusative.

  “Submitting to you,” she squirmed under his wandering hands, “kneeling, relinquishing control…I love it. When you call me by a pet name, I feel warm and soft inside.”

  He kissed her forehead and slowed his assault. Crossing over the edge would be pleasurable but foolhardy. They needed to have this discussion. The roles in a D/s relationship were different than in a vanilla relationship. Yes, the sub was expected to speak to the Dominant using respectful titles and tone, but that in no way meant the Dom lacked respect for his sub. Steven respected the hell out of Brianna, but the emphasis of his role was one of adoration, protection and caring. Those warm and soft feelings she received from submitting to him proved they were perfect for each other.

  “I’m sure there’s a line that could be crossed and those feelings would change and become destructive, but I don’t know where the line is. Does that make sense?” Her voice was contemplative and slightly detached.

  He could breathe again. She wasn’t opposed to D/s as he’d begun to fear. “Yes, it does. By having an open conversation about our fantasies and desires, we’ll discover where that line lies for us. Have we ever done anything that pushed the envelope for you?”

  She tipped her head to the side, giving him room to kiss her neck. “The first time I kneeled before you, it was hard. I felt like I was belittling myself. I pretended we were playing a game and just went with it. The feelings, emotional and physical, were more than I can describe. It still is, but,” she shook her head as if to push away the memory, “it kind of messes with my head.”

  He wished she’d clued him in at the time. “Is this something you’d like to explore or something you’d like to step back from?”

  “Explore.” She whispered so softly he had to struggle to hear her.

  He nodded. It was nothing short of a miracle she’d admitted that. “I’ll need direction, Brianna. Do you want strict protocols or does this only apply to possible punishments?”

  “With protocols not discipline. I hope to not be in real trouble very often.”

  Punishments were not something he enjoyed, but he too believed it was an important aspect of the dynamic between them. Now, funishments were another thing entirely. “I don’t know…my girl has a bit of brat in her and I think she enjoys having my hand light up her ass.”

  With her c
heek resting along his chest he felt her answering smile. “You must have me confused with someone else. I always behave.”

  He grabbed a pillow and shielded her head.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.

  “Protecting you from the lightning. That was a whopper and you’re asking for a strike straight from the heavens.”

  She knocked the pillow from his hand. “Very funny, Master. You like me bratty.”

  “In most circumstances, yes I do. Your naughty smile lights up the room.”

  “Did I disappoint you often…before?” She sounded so unsure of herself.

  “No, pretty girl. Never. Why would you think that? I was always proud to have you by my side.” Maybe if he said it often enough, it would sink in. He wasn’t sure exactly how to build her confidence, but it was definitely a high priority.

  “Do you desire strict protocols, pretty girl?” He didn’t want anything that would discourage her from talking to him, but this wasn’t all about him. If that’s what she needed for a time, then he’d give it to her.

  “Can we just take it slowly? I’m not really sure what I want.”

  “Absolutely, as long as you promise to tell me if you don’t like something.” Brianna took promises very seriously. She wouldn’t give her word and then go back on it.

  “I’ll try.”

  Her answer spoke volumes and had him worried again. He couldn’t read minds. Unless she told him what she was thinking, he had no way of knowing if he was truly meeting her needs…or pushing her too far.

  “Promise me you’ll safeword if you’re too far out of your comfort zone.”

  She picked at invisible lint. “I promise to try.”

  His heart skipped a beat. She was pulling the safety net out from under him. “It’s not the same thing, Brianna.” He remembered a time when they’d played with ropes and the binding had shifted. Instead of her letting him know, as he’d asked her to do, she’d kept silent and had received a pinched nerve in the process. She’d told him she hadn’t noticed, but now he suspected she’d consciously decided not to tell him.