19. Adrian
Grabbing dark purple dye, a brush, and clips to separate her hair, he washed his hands and set everything next to the sink. “Ready to start?”
“Mhm.” Ivory popped the last of a cookie into her mouth and gave him a guilty but cute-as-hell smile.
“Do you want everything dyed or specific parts?”
“All of it.” She settled on the stool placed in the center of the plastic, sitting awkwardly and shoving her hands under her thighs. “Unless you think that won’t look as good?”
“It’ll look great,” he replied, then added, “You can leave your hands in your lap.” Tucking them away would get uncomfortable later, and it wasn’t helping him to ignore how good she’d look bound in a similar fashion, her breasts pushed together and peaked in arousal.
Ivory fixed her hands, seemingly more at ease after receiving directions, and then listened as he showed her the dye and explained the process before getting to work. This particular dye was made for brunettes, it would lighten her hair slightly to give a more vibrant result. He’d also brought a color-preserving conditioner that should help fix the damage done by the cold weather.
“How was your day?” he asked, slipping into casual conversation as he moved behind her to clip up the top layers of hair.
“It was good. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was, um…” She sucked in a quick breath. “Hoping I didn’t ruin any plans you had.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “This is a welcome break before I have to start a ten-page history paper.”
“Oh.” She paused. “I mean, it’s the fourteenth and all, so I didn’t know if…” She trailed off, and he glanced over to see her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
His witch looked much too worried. He couldn’t have that. Walking around to face her, he gently tipped up her chin and looked her in the eyes. “Is there something special about the fourteenth?”
She relaxed into his touch, her skin soft and warm in his palm, and he hated having to pull away before he lingered too long.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” she whispered at last, then glanced away. “I thought you might have someone special.”
He frowned. Surely she knew he wouldn’t hide something like that. “I did tell you I don’t do relationships, right?”
“Yeah, but…it’s hard to imagine no one chasing after you.” She gave a little shrug and another cute smile, meeting his eyes as a blush spread over her cheeks.
Fuck, he wished he could kiss her right now.
Kiss those strawberry lips until they were swollen and red, then let her beg him to kiss more of her. Ask for him to leave his mark before he gave her the sweetest pleasure she’d ever tasted.
He studied her jade eyes before stepping away and averting his attention to mix the dye. “I’m glad you think so, sweetheart. But even if someone else wanted to chase me, it would be against my rules.”
No one would be able to compete with her, anyway.
“Oh,” she said again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s nothing you need to apologize for.” He grinned, glad he stood outside of her line of sight. Her disappointment at not knowing rules he’d never given her was heartwarming, a sign he still had a chance. She wanted to be good for him so bad, and she was—her efforts were so very sweet—but he decided to test the waters and tease her a little.
“Are you worried you’d break those rules?” he asked. “Or have you already?”
He secretly—selfishly—hoped she had. The first night they met, she denied wanting a relationship, but she also hadn’t settled for less.
She hesitated, tensing up. “I…”
“I’m only teasing,” he added before she took him too seriously, noticing her discomfort. “You don’t have to answer. When I set rules, I make sure they are clearly understood. Those are only for my arrangements.”
“Arrangements?” she asked, dropping her previous concerns as curiosity colored her voice.
Traditional hook-ups had never appealed to him. They were chaotic, based neither in consistency or kink, and he required both. During the year he’d taken to save up between high school and college, he developed a different approach.
He painted on the first stroke of deep purple and explained. “It’s still true that I don’t do relationships, but I don’t do spontaneous one-night stands, either. Instead, I set up arrangements where everyone involved can have an open discussion before anything happens. That way, we both know what to expect. I won’t lead someone on when I’m not putting in the right kind of effort or try to force something I’m not willing to give. So, I can guarantee no one is out there buying me a Valentine’s gift or planning a romantic date.”
She hummed, thinking over his words. “You avoid emotional attachment.”
“Close, but not quite,” he replied, not at all offended by her conclusion. “I care about my partner, even if it’s in a predefined capacity. I need them to know they can trust me and vice-versa. You’d be surprised what emotions come up in intense play.”
Content that the current section of hair had sufficient dye, he clipped it to the side and moved on to the next before continuing. “In fact, I don’t think I could enjoy sex without any form of attachment, but plenty of people have told me they prefer this type of arrangement to being kept in the dark or feeling like it’s difficult to communicate. This allows them to ask for what they want. Anything they want.”
“Makes sense,” she said, then added after a pause, “What kind of things do people ask for? If you can share.”
He glanced over to see her nibbling on her lip again. With his hands occupied with the dye, he could do nothing about it except try not to get too turned on.
However, she didn’t look shocked by the topic, her eyes turning bright and inquisitive. Another good sign, although it was one he anticipated.
“Sometimes they have specific requests, sometimes they don’t,” he answered. “Most of the time, it’s spanking or bondage, maybe a role play or new toys. Once I know what they’re comfortable with, I suggest other things.”
“And what about you?” she asked, crossing one leg over the other. “What things do you ask for?” Her voice came out soft but firm, the hesitation slowly giving way to genuine curiosity, and he happily answered.
“Besides a willing submissive, I enjoy most types of play. I’m not a sadist who enjoys inflicting pain for pain’s sake. There has to be a purpose to the suffering. A reward for each sacrifice.” He didn’t need to inflict pain or humiliation to get off, but nothing compared to a woman on her knees, handing him the power to control her mind as well as her body. Nothing could replace the rush and rhythm of peering into a person’s soul, of peeling it apart layer by layer.
Except, as he explained all this to Ivory, it felt as if she were the one peering into his soul. It always had. The grace and eagerness with which she responded to him was like a secret trigger, a switch programmed into his psyche he didn’t even know he had. If he ever got lucky enough to do a scene with her, he knew it would far surpass the sinful images conjured by his imagination.
“That’s why having rules is crucial,” he continued. “One oversight can cause serious harm or break my partner’s trust.” Coating the brush with more dye, he repeated the same words he’d told everyone else. “I have three rules, but more might be added based on the scenario.”
“One, neither of us shows up at the other’s residence without an invitation. So you won’t have to worry about any awkward encounters. And although this isn’t technically a rule, I also don’t take girls into my bedroom. It’s too informal.”
“Two, if they don’t wish to be exclusive, I need to know what else they’re involved in. Complete transparency. That one is mostly for safety, and I use protection regardless.”
“Three, once we end the arrangement, for whatever reason, it’s over. No second chances, especially if any rules were broken.”
She nodded and uncrossed her legs. “Then do you…” Her voice faltered, betraying a hint of concern. “Can I ask how many arrangements you have right now?”
“None,” he answered, more than pleased as her shoulders dropped when she released a breath. Investigating the Dragons had taken up too much of his time and energy to do anything on the side.
Of course, it was also because of her.
It didn’t matter how many girls had been in his living room before. All he could see was her. All he wanted was her.