Chapter 18 #2

“—and that also translates to fucking.”

Her muscles tensed once more, and the importance of explaining where the difference between me and her dead fiancé lay became oppressive.

“Still, even if there were a situation in which I would have you tied to my bed, blindfolded and helpless to my every whim—which won’t be the case; this scene is just an example—you’d always have the power to stop the entire encounter in an instant.

You’ll have a word that, once spoken, stops everything no matter what. ”

Until now, I’d never seen a sense in using those measures. Often, I couldn’t care enough—yes, this sounded bad, but if my bedmate had asked for such methods, I wouldn’t have minded. But I’d never been with someone who had been assaulted.

Honestly, I’d never assumed I would one day.

A little voice whispered in my mind, one I couldn’t swat away.

If this were happening, there was no way I’d be satisfied with this being a one-time occurrence.

After Amalach, where I’d entertained the idea of giving up my resistance and considered making her mine, I’d never been able to return to my adamant stance from before.

And in this situation, not only was my cock already hard as fuck, but my heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. And as much as I desired to see her healed, I couldn’t deny that my motives weren’t altruistic altogether. So, the pressure not to mess this up was wreaking havoc on my soul.

The security word was a start, but I recalled another method usually used in the Emerald Room.

This establishment was for all the courtiers who enjoyed pain with their pleasure—and not only a little.

Quite a few rumors circulated amongst my kind about me being a patron there, but in reality, I hadn’t set foot into the venue once—I liked a lot of crazy shit, but massive amounts of pain wasn’t my kink—neither on the giving nor receiving end.

Still, even as secluded as I’d spent my days on a regular basis, I’d gotten wind of the stories, but I’d never cared enough to set the record straight.

Nodding slightly as I praised myself for the good idea, I kept my gaze fixed on the female next to me.

“Additionally, there’s a system I’ve only heard of, but which I’d like to introduce to you too, because of your special circumstances.

It’s simple but could be effective. If you say red, you’re alerting me to a discomfort you want to end, but also that you have no interest in aborting everything.

You’d let me know to do something else instead.

And if you use green, well, it’s the opposite, showcasing you’re fine, that you like something very much, or that you give consent. ”

Agreeing on rules wasn’t very passionate or spontaneous, not like our small make-out session back in Amalach, but this was a special case.

She wasn’t only giving me a gift—although she wasn’t aware of me considering this as such—but also a responsibility.

If I messed this up, chances were good that she’d never heal or would quit trying altogether. And I wouldn’t want to answer to that.

“Oh, I understand. You have the power, but I’ll be able to override your control if necessary.” Naya’s forehead wrinkled under her contemplation.

How well she grasped this concept. My chest filled with pride.

“Green, red, a stopping word. Easy.” She tapped her index finger against her chin. “So if I say stop, you’d continue because it isn’t one of the rule words?”

“Exactly. Even if you might have problems imagining so, some like to play with fear, get a kick out of struggling, or are aroused by fighting and overpowering someone and being forced into submission.”

My brain went into overdrive, no matter how much I battled to hold myself back. The situation was unreal, and my body had leaned into the excitement much earlier than my mind wanted to allow.

Also, if Nayana didn’t back out, our intimate encounter would be all about her.

Oh, I had plenty of ideas about what she might enjoy and how to deliver. Her pleasure would be mine to give, and if I were honest, nothing had felt so right in a long time.

“But…that’s—”

“No, Nayana.”

Her worries were written all over her face.

“Just because we’d use a system originating from that kind of play doesn’t mean we’ll have to engage in a scenario like that. I won’t do anything with force—neither would I tie you down nor hunt you.”

“But you like all that?”

This woman. She couldn’t ask me questions like that, especially not when anxiety wrestled with a fascinating blazing curiosity in her eyes. Finally, I nodded. “Some has its appeal. Sometimes.”

She chewed her lip, and my gaze was magically drawn to her mouth. The desire to replace her teeth with my own became oppressive, and the air turned stifling.

“But you won’t need that for your enjoyment?”

“No. Do you trust me?”

“In this? Yes.”

“And you want this?”

“Yes. But I…would like to take a bath first.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“But—”

“Let me ask you again—do you trust me?”

Nayana took a deep breath and scowled at her own armpit.

Ah, she assumed she smelled. As if I minded. Even if I didn’t have plans involving water, there would be no need for her to be ashamed. Her natural scent was so much stronger than any unpleasant body odor.

“Yes, Dion, I trust you.”

“Repeat the rules for me.”

“A word of my choosing ends everything. If I say red, you’ll stop what you’re doing and do something else. Green is a good color,” she grinned. “Oh, and you won’t—defile me.”

I chuckled at her choice of words. There she was, ready for an evening of pleasure, all strictly therapeutic, of course, and in the name of friendship, but she was still stuck in her prudish shyness. Somehow, this juxtaposition was cute and endearing.

Reminding myself to hold back would be necessary, even if my cock had other ideas. “Then pick your stop word and never be reluctant to use the term. Promise me.”

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