Submit (Songs of Submission #3)(11)



“You like that side of me?” He cracked another pistachio, tossing the shell into the metal bowl with a plink.

“You can’t tell?”

“I want to make sure you’re not tolerating it for other reasons.” He placed the nut to my lips again.

I took it, letting the wet part of my lips graze his thumb. “If I were, I’d just lie about it.”

“True.”

“What do your instincts say? Am I a liar?”

“You’re as real as anyone I ever met.”

He turned his attention to the pistachios, popping another one open and dropping the shell with a plink. He ate that one, then another. Plink, plink. “I had business in San Francisco, but also, there’s a woman up there.”

The cold metal feeling that went up my spine must have made a sound loud enough for him to hear.

He glanced up at me and spoke in the voice he used when he was telling me to put my hands behind my back. “Wait. Let me finish.”

That calmed me enough to remove the ice from my veins. “Go on,” I said.

He fed me another nutmeat, plinking the shell with his other hand. “Her name is Sharon. We’ve been f**king on and off for a couple of years. We’re very honest with each other, and she likes some of the same things in bed that you and I have done, but she’s more experienced with it. When I got there, I saw her, and I told her about Jessica and you. I ended it with her, of course. Judging from your face you needed to hear that?”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be possessive.”

He smiled. “You’re fine.” Plink. He put his face close to mine and brought his hand under my chin, a thumb on one cheek, and pressed lightly opening my mouth.

My eyes went half-mast and a burst of pleasure blossomed between my legs.

With the other hand, he fed me the nut. “I want you, Monica. I want you on a regular basis. Constantly, actually. I don’t think about much else.” He let go of my cheeks and brushed his thumb against my bottom lip before taking his hand away and letting me chew. “I’m on the brink of being completely infatuated with you. I need to know if you feel the same.”

I swallowed. Did I want him? Jesus f**king Christ, I’d never wanted anything so badly. I took a sip of water. “While you were away, and the last words I heard were Jessica’s, I felt emotionally heightened. Sometimes, I just shook with rage. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t do anything, or didn’t do much, or that you had to kiss her to get over her. The fact was, I had a hard time functioning. That’s why I don’t want a relationship. And the trouble is, you can’t promise me I won’t feel like that again.”

“No, I can’t.” Plink, plink.

“But how am I supposed to walk away?”

“You can’t. You’re mine. The minute I told you to spread your legs and you did it, you were mine. When I told you to beg for it and you did, you were mine. When you put your hands behind your back without being told, I owned you. You never had to say a word. You’re a natural submissive.”

Plink. When he turned away from the bowl to look at me, he had a nutmeat in his fingers, ready for my lips. His face, which had been so close to mine, slid half a step away. “Why the look?” he asked.

“What did you say?”

He smirked and got his face close again. “You are a natural submissive, Monica. You enjoy being obedient. You cede control with both hands. It’s exactly right.”

I was shaking. I wanted him, and five minutes ago, he was mine. He’d given up on his wife and wanted me, and the ache of holding back my feelings for him was quelled, if only for a moment. Until he called me a submissive.

I took my own f**king nut and cracked the meat out. “What were you thinking about us? You gonna put me on a leash?”

“You just turned into stone.”

I chewed, not commenting. I wanted an answer. He stalled, pouring himself half a glass of Perrier, and I was immediately reminded of the glass I’d spilled on the floor.

“Women I take to bed, mostly they defy me, or act cute, or overdo obedience but don’t mean it. Many pretend to like getting tied to the bedpost. One was so pliable it was disconcerting.”

“And this Sharon person?”

“She’s a submissive. That’s what she does. So she nailed it, but it’s not that kind of relationship. I could talk to her about what I liked, and we could try things together, but it’s not like you. I want you. I can’t get enough of you. You’re strong. I want to see how you look with your wrists tied to your knees. I want to spank you red in the ass. Because you can take it.” He paused, looking at me. “And I think I scared you. It’s not what you think. I don’t want anything from you that you already haven’t offered.”

“With both hands, apparently.”

“It’s beautiful, Monica. Don’t make it ugly.” He tilted his head, as if trying to see through me.

I tossed my pistachio shell into the bowl with a plink, feeling surly and confused. “Was Jessica submissive?”

“No. I think it’s what drove her away.”

I couldn’t help but think Jessica’s refusal to be dominated meant she was respected more than I would ever be. I’d always be the child, the one who could be bossed around, dismissed, belittled, and abused.

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