Leaning forward with my elbows on the table, I lift my gaze to Macey’s. “What I want, sweetheart is you naked, bound, and spread open before me, your wrists laced together with my rope, your ankles pinned with my spreader bar. Your cunt waiting for me to fill it. You will be used as I see fit. Do you understand?”
Her quick inhalation of breath signals this is an idea she finds appealing, which only excites me more. I have to remind myself to keep detached.
“Will I be gagged?” she asks.
“No.” I smile at her. “You won’t be gagged. I’ll want to hear all the pretty whimpers and cries falling from your mouth.”
“And what about you?” she asks. “Will I be able to touch you? Kiss you?”
My own heart rate spikes despite the calm, cool demeanor I’m struggling to keep in place. “Do you want those things?”
Nodding eagerly, she meets my stare. “I think you know I do.”
“I don’t know you anymore, Macey. You keep forgetting that. You’ve walked back in my life like we can pick up right where we left off, but we’ve both changed.”
She watches me for a few quiet moments, as if she wants to disagree. “You never answered the question.” A smile twitches on her mouth.
“You will touch me when, how, and where I say.” My tone comes out harsher than I intended. Damn, get it together. “And kissing is not something I generally do with my submissives, but given our history, I’ll take it under advisement.”
Fuck, there’s nothing I want more than my mouth on hers. Watching her pretty blue eyes fall closed, feeling the warmth of her tongue sweep against mine . . .
I down the remainder of my wine, then catch her gaze. “We need to cover a few things. How many sexual partners have you had?”
She licks her lips, looking down at her plate. I don’t know why she’s embarrassed to tell me her number. Unless it’s really high . . . or really low . . .
“Macey? Look at me.”
She clears her throat, and her eyes dart up. “Two.”
“That’s it?” Fuck me, that’s not what I was expecting. It makes me want her pussy on my mouth. Right now.
The waitress saunters up and stops next to our table. “Ready to order?”
Hell yeah, I am. Pussy à la carte, please.
Well aware Macey hasn’t absorbed a word of the menu she’s been studying, I glance at her. “May I?”
She nods.
“We’ll have the coconut chicken with avocado and mango salad, please.” It’s one of the best things on their menu. “Rice and beans?” I direct my question toward Macey.
“Sure.”
“An order of each,” I tell the waitress, and we hand over our menus.
“Thank you,” Macey says.
I want to thank her for trusting me, but I don’t. I simply nod. There’s nothing more beautiful than a sub who can feel at ease and confident enough to fully hand me the reins. And something tells me we’re well on our way. It makes the Dominant inside me roar to life.
There’s a delicate dance happening between us. We know each other intimately, yet we don’t. I’ve changed a lot from the man she remembers. I’ve grown harder and more distant with every passing relationship that didn’t measure up to what she and I once shared. And Macey, I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through, having her heart broken by some MILF-chasing douchebag. Starting over in her hometown after living away for many years.
“It’s an interesting scenario . . . you and I . . . our history,” I say.
“How so?” she asks, her fingers delicately fingering the stem of her wineglass.
“Generally my first meeting with a new submissive is more question and answer. I’m working to gain her trust, but with you, I sense I already have that.”
She levels me with those big blue eyes. “You’ve always had it.”
“Back then, you and I . . .” I’m searching for the right words and failing. “Things got pretty heated between us . . .”
“You weren’t the first.”
A wave of possessiveness rushes through me. “I should have been.” There’s no hesitation, but after I say it, I wish I could take it back. I need to hold my cards closer to the chest, so to speak. I’ll give myself away if I’m not careful.
She nods. “In my mind you were.”
“What do you mean?” Now I’m intrigued.
“I was with someone who didn’t know what he was doing.”
“Did you come?”
A short bark of laughter erupts from her. “Not even close.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
“When I think back on that night, in my mind, we always go all the way.”
“Yeah? And how am I?”
“Eh.” She smiles that cocky smirk of a smile, the one I want desperately to kiss right off her face.
“Naughty girl.” I chuckle at her. Now that the mood’s been lightened somewhat, I press on. “Tonight will be about outlining your needs.”
She nods.
“You’ve stated that you’re looking to lose yourself. To clear your mind of clutter and enjoy carnal pleasures. In our lessons, my role will be to push you further than you’ve been before. Your role will be to trust me, and listen to your body.”
Nodding again, she takes a thoughtful sip of her wine.
Generally speaking, my role in this sort of meeting is to learn the person, learn her goals, limits, and any weak points she has. Later I will exploit those to the point of discomfort, with the goal of turning them into strengths and make her confidence soar at what she’s able to achieve during a session. Damn, if I’m not rock-fucking-hard just thinking about it.
Luckily, the waitress chooses that moment to deliver our meal. I take the opportunity to cool down by serving Macey a piece of chicken from the platter, along with spoonfuls of rice and beans.
“Eat up,” I encourage her.
Lifting her fork to her mouth, she’s quiet for now, but I can tell her brain is spinning. We enjoy half of our meal that way until my fiery Macey is back.
“Why do you do this?” she finally asks. “Why do you like submissive women?”
“First off, I don’t want you to see the word submissive with a negative connotation. It’s much more gratifying to watch a strong-willed woman submit to my desires than it is to engage with a doormat who’ll go along with anything I say. Don’t you think?”
She raises one eyebrow and stabs a slice of mango on her plate. “I suppose.”
“Don’t confuse this for what it is—I want an equal partner. Just because I’ll be the one calling the shots doesn’t mean you have no free will. In fact, I quite like spark in my women.”
“Does vanilla sex bore you?” she asks.
“No, vanilla sex doesn’t bore me. I just haven’t had a girlfriend or a serious relationship in a long time. And I tend to reserve that type of close, intimate sex with someone I’m involved with.” She doesn’t know the half of it.
“Makes sense, I guess,” she murmurs.
The wine has gotten to me, or maybe it’s just the effect this gorgeous girl has on me. She and I once shared so much.
Time to bring us back to business. “I only have two rules.”
She swallows a bite of her food, waiting for me to continue.
“That you use your safe word if things get too intense, and when this is over, it’s over. Three lessons, no strings, no attachments. I need you to agree to both rules right now, or the deal’s off.”
She frowns at the sudden change in my amiable mood. “Geez, so bossy.”
“I’m serious, Macey. Things are different this time.”
“I see that.”
Softening my tone, I add, “Your safety will always be a top priority, both physically and mentally. You don’t have to worry about that.”
She fiddles with her cloth napkin. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m a little nervous.”