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Previously titled: Brokered Submission
Never one to let an opportunity pass him by, Dylan was determined to test his budding theory of Zoë’s possible interest in the scene. They’d had a couple of drinks, and, if nothing else, she was sending clear signs with her body language and demeanor that she was as interested as he in their getting to know one another better.
Taking a chance, Dylan reached for Zoë’s hand. He turned it palm up and ran his finger lightly over her skin, the touch sending a jolt directly to his cock. “I can read palms, you know.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Zoë replied with a laugh, though she made no move to pull her hand away.
“No, really,” he insisted with a smile as he leaned over to peer at her palm. “Whoa, this is very interesting,” he continued, resisting the urge to bring her hand to his lips. “Your heart line and head line are fused. That indicates you live life with great intensity on all levels. Is that true, Zoë?” He ran his thumb over the fleshy part of Zoë’s palm.
She didn’t reply, save for a lovely shiver that moved through her body, and a widening of her eyes. Christ, he wanted her.
Forcing his voice to remain casual, he said with a smile, “That’s all right. You don’t have to tell me now.” He continued to trace the lines on her palm with his thumb, wondering if he should let the words that had just leaped into his brain actually come out of his mouth.
If he hadn’t had a couple of beers, he probably wouldn’t even consider it. On the other hand, why not? He’d throw a line into the flirtatious waters swirling between them. What was life without risk?
Staring into her eyes, her hand still caught in his, Dylan said, “But tell me this. How do you feel about the concept of erotic submission? Have you ever experienced the allure of leather and rope, or the sensual power of a whip’s kiss?”
With a shocked gasp, Zoë pulled her hand away. She reached for her glass, her hand trembling ever so slightly. As before when he’d brought up a spanking, a flush had moved over her face, and her nipples perked like gumdrops beneath the sheer silk of her blouse.
He’d hit a nerve—no question about it. He could sense her hunger beneath her confusion, and now he was certain—Zoë wanted what he offered. It was just up to him to show her.
He reached for her shoulder, gently turning him toward her. “I take that as a no?”
Zoë set her glass carefully on the bar. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Dylan said nothing to this, waiting for her to go on.
She gave her glossy hair a coquettish toss and laughed nervously. “I mean, if you’re talking the stuff of romance novels, certainly I’m aware of the concept of BDSM, but if you’re talking real life…” She trailed off, and for the first time in the brief period he’d known her, seemed to be at a loss for words.
Finally she continued, “Fantasy is one thing—the idea of a dominant guy swooping in and saving the poor little damsel in distress is appealing in a certain sense, I suppose. But in the real world, a woman, at least a woman who wants to get anywhere on her own, needs to stand on her own two feet, both in the bedroom and out of it.” She lifted her chin. “I mean, look at me. I put together multi-million dollar ventures for a living. I deal with rich and powerful men every day of the week. The thought of letting some alpha male take over my life and control my every move is beyond absurd. I like to be in charge. It’s who I am.”
“Of course that’s who you are. But that’s not all you are.”
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning being strong, self-sufficient, confident and a kickass businesswoman is not at odds with being sexually submissive and masochistic with your lover. Erotic submission is not for the weak-willed or the needy. It’s not about searching for a daddy or a savior. On the contrary, it takes a strong, centered woman to make the kind of intimate, courageous connection required for a true D/s experience.”
Zoë snorted. “You really believe that?”
“With all my heart.”
Zoë stared at him, her mouth falling slightly open. She leaned toward him as if drawn by the magnetism of his words. Along with the shock, there was unmistakable hunger in her eyes.
Dylan decided to push the envelope a little further. “D/s—dominance and submission—isn’t necessarily just a sexual kink. For many, it’s a lifestyle. And yes, part of that lifestyle includes whips and chains, along with rope, erotic suffering, sexual torture”—he watched her carefully for her reaction—“total obedience, slave training, needle play, flogging, intense bondage, forced orgasms—I could go on and on. The list is endless and endlessly delightful to explore.”
Zoë’s cheeks were flushed, her lips forming a small, sweet O, her eyes glittering as they moved over his face. It was a look he had seen many times before, and one that thrilled him to his core. If he leaned forward just a little, he would be close enough to kiss her.
