Chapter 5
Tara’s head fell back against the couch, her body arched, thanks to the way he held her arm behind her back. The delicate line of her throat was exposed, and she watched him through thick, dark lashes.
Her breasts pressed against the fabric of her robe, the band of glossy black that crossed her sternum, hinting at some interesting lingerie.
Tara. His Tara.
Now about to be truly his .
“Say it again,” he demanded. “But say my name.”
She studied him for a moment before saying. “I want to play the game with you, Nathan.”
He shook his head. “Saying ‘play the game’ is evading, and you know it.”
Tara’s lashes lowered, just enough to hide her eyes.
“I want to scene with you, Nathan.”
A dark, feral satisfaction was sliding through him. He wanted her with a terrifying ferocity. As if all the years of refusing to allow himself to look at, or think of, her in a sexual way had caused turbulent water to back up behind a dam. And now they were opening the floodgates.
Dominate her. Give her what she needs. Use and touch her in the ways no one else could, because no one else knows her like you do.
“If we’re doing this, we don’t cut corners just because we know one another.”
“Agreed.”
“Meaning, we negotiate before we start.”
“It feels like we’ve already started,” she murmured.
She was right. The way he was restraining one arm, manipulating her body, and issuing orders, weren’t best friend behavior. It was Dom behavior.
He nodded and released her hand, sitting back on his heels.
Tara scooted until she was sitting at the other end of the small couch, her toes tucked into the space between the cushions. It was an unexpectedly vulnerable move, tucking her bare toes away. He had to stop himself from reaching out and wrapping a hand around her ankle, to connect them.
Tara had one arm tucked under her bent legs, holding the back of her robe against her thighs.
He swallowed the impulse to grab her knees and spread her legs. To force her to have this conversation with her pussy on display.
Would that make her feel submissive, or would it make her feel awkward?
He didn’t know, and he needed to, because Nathan was fairly certain it would break something inside him if she was indifferent to his dominance.
Nathan rose to sit on the couch, bracing his elbows on his knees and gripping his hands together, and looking down at his hands rather than at Tara.
“What kind of Dom do you think I am?”
“What?” She clearly hadn’t expected that question.
“What kind of Dom do you think I am?” he repeated. “You know me, so I’m sure you have some idea. And whatever version of me you’re imagining is a factor in to your agreeing to scene with me.”
“If I guess wrong, will you change your mind?”
He looked over. “Maybe.”
“I don’t like unanswerable questions.”
“And I won’t touch you without first knowing what you’re thinking.”
“Isn’t that what negotiating is for?” Tara countered, crossing her legs and leaning toward him.
“This is the start of the negotiation.”
“No, this is you backing out after we’d just agreed we were doing this.” Tara’s expression was cool and professional. He’d seen that look on her face in meetings and when she presented at conferences.
And he knew it wasn’t real; it was a mask. She only looked like that when she was actively hiding her thoughts and feelings.
“Don’t,” he snarled.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t hide. Not from me.”
Her breath caught, and she blinked. “You’re hiding from me. That’s why you’ve just changed your mind about this.”
“I didn’t change my mind, but you’re going to.”
“Ah, so now you know me so well you can predict what I’ll do? Please, tell me all about myself.”
Frustration rode him and he turned just his head to look at her. “Answer the question. What kind of Dom do you think I am?”
She opened her mouth, then paused. Her cool, intelligent gaze focused on his face, then slid down his body, seeming to assess his leathers.
“I’ll answer if, once I do, you tell me what kind of sub you think I am.”
He nodded. “Agreed.”
Tara looked him over once more. “I think you’re focused and precise. When you scene, you’re entirely present in that moment.”
He nodded, not in agreement but to acknowledge her statement. “And what kind of play do I prefer?”
She shifted, rocking her weight a little. Her voice wasn’t as confident now. “You’re rules-focused. Some of those rules are impossible to follow—a way to punish your sub. That’s part of the game, and you and your partner both understand how to play it.”
“High protocol?”
She wiggled her hand side to side in a “maybe” motion. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but I don’t think you’d be that formal. I don’t think you want your sub always looking at the ground, or only speaking when given permission.”
This time his nod was one of agreement.
“I think that you’re careful and thorough, and you make sure you and your partner are both satisfied by the time the scene is over.”
Her voice was a bit breathy now, and her chest was rising and falling with deep inhalations.
Nathan looked at her. “Careful, thorough, and rule-oriented.”
“Yes. Though there was more nuance in what I said.”
“Fair.”
“So, was I right?” she asked.
“I am careful. Any Dom who isn’t doesn’t deserve the title.”
“True.”
“And thorough? Definitely so.”
Tara was watching him, assessing. “But?”
“But,” he agreed with a small smile. “I am not rule-oriented when I play.”
She held her breath, seeming to absorb that, but all she said was, “Oh?”
“I think you’re imaging I top the same way I work. Methodical. Slow.”
“Methodical would have been a more appropriate word to use.”
“But the wrong word,” he said softly.
“Oh?”
It was the second time she’d asked a question in that wordless way, and he smiled.
Nathan turned to face her fully, bringing one knee onto the couch, his forearm braced along the back. “The one thing you didn’t mention is sex. Do you think I top for power and control only? Maybe add in a dash of pain to satisfy any sadism? Are you picturing me flogging a sub, then having her kneel at my feet while I have a drink, and ending the night with a quick spanking before aftercare?”
Tara’s eyes met his, and the intimacy of holding her gaze was almost too much.
“Because if that’s what you want, I can’t…” He reconsidered. “I won’t top you like that.”
“How would you top me?”
He could tell she’d tried to make the words mild, almost disinterested.
The look in her eyes gave her away. She was desperate for an answer.
“When I scene, I touch and take everything I want.”
Tara inhaled sharply.
“I almost always have my hands on my sub, because while she’s with me, I want her to feel owned. And I want her aroused. Needy to the point of desperate every moment of the scene. If I allow her to come, I make sure that the satisfaction doesn’t last long. I play with her until she’s begging for permission to come again.”
Nathan rolled up onto his knee, looking over her with one hand braced on the arm of the couch behind her shoulder. She was trapped. Caged by his body.
“If I’m having a drink, my sub isn’t kneeling at my feet. She’s on my lap, legs spread wide. So wide that her pretty pussy lips are open too, exposing her core. And my fingers are on her. In her. Fucking her. Playing with her clit. Spanking her pussy, just because I can. Because I want to hear her yelp and whimper.”
Tara’s eyes slid closed and she swallowed hard.
“If I spank her, it isn’t because she disobeyed a rule. It’s because I want to. Because I like having a woman over my knee. Like it more when I spank her hard enough to leave a handprint.
“Then I make her take my cock in her ass so I can fuck her from behind and each time I thrust, I’m smacking against that sore bottom.”
“Nathan,” she breathed, eyes now wide.
“If I tie my sub up in public, I invite other members to taste her pussy, finger fuck her ass, and pinch her nipples, because I want her to feel like a pretty sex toy.”
Tara jolted back, pressing her upper body against the couch and bringing her knees up, one arm wrapped around her thighs. His chest tightened as he watched her retreat, but he didn’t stop.
“If it’s a weekend-long scene, I expect her to fall asleep with her head on my thigh and my cock in her mouth.”
Tara’s lips were parted, and he could see the tip of her pink tongue.
“I don’t care how my sub talks to me. I’m going to tease and fuck her if she’s a brat or if she’s perfectly obedient. I don’t care about where she looks, because the way I touch her, use her, will leave no doubt in her mind who she belongs to in that moment.”
Tara whined low in her throat, and that sound made him want to do savage things to her.
“If I were ever to collar a woman permanently, she wouldn’t be my obedient submissive. She’d be my needy sex slave. Always wet. Ready to be used and fucked any time I wanted.”
“Do you always talk like this?” she breathed.
“Like what?”
“Dirty talk.”
Nathan smiled. “This hardly qualifies, and yes, during a scene I enjoy telling my partner what a bad girl she is. How needy and wet her pussy feels. Asking her if she needs me to make her a good girl by fucking her tight ass.”
Tara closed her eyes and swallowed, her breasts heaving under her robe. She tipped her head back, exposing that pretty neck.
His arms and shoulders ached from holding himself still. He wanted to touch her, but she’d leaned back. Retreated.
Tara’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting his.
“Please.” One simple word, and yet it rocked the very foundation of his world, because he knew what she was asking for.
What she was asking him to do.
Nathan leaned down and licked her, dragging the flat of his tongue up the side of her throat. Tara gasped, jerking at the warm wet touch, but then tipping her head to the side to give him better access.
The taste of her skin was enough to take the edge off his desperate need, and Nathan pulled back, head dropping onto her knees, his own breathing labored.
Cool fingers slid tentatively through his hair. Nathan dropped his head until it rested on her bent knees. He stayed there only a moment, then sat back.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough. “I shouldn’t have touched you, before or just now, without explicit permission.”
“Maybe not, but I like it.” Tara reached for her glass, found it empty, and frowned.
With a small smile, he passed over his own drink and she took a sip, making a face, and taking a second sip.
“You’re right.” She passed it back. “I wouldn’t have guessed that was how you topped.”
He laced his fingers together and nodded, hoping his embarrassment wasn’t evident on his face.
“But I like it.” She took a steadying breath. “I really like it. And learning that you’re going to be handsy?—”
That surprised a laugh out of him.
“—doesn’t change my proposal.”
Afraid to hope, he scanned her face, reading her expression. Her lips were parted, the lower one glossy, either from their kiss or because she’d sucked on it again when he wasn’t watching.
“I want to play the game with you.”
Her dark eyes were both familiar and strange. Familiar because he knew her, strange because he’d never seen that particular look in her eyes.
“I want to submit to you, Nathan.”