Page 85 of To Catch a Sub

“We’ve established that, but at one point you told me it wasn’t about the submission, but about the kink. I think that was a lie…and the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

His hands slid from her ass around the curve of her hips until they spanned her lower belly, pinkies resting at the top of her mons.

“I think you have a few kinks beyond submission. Assuming you classify that as a kink.” His index fingers drew little circles on her skin. “So tell me, Colette, what are your kinks?”

Before she could answer, one hand slid down between her legs, palm and fingers covering and cupping her pussy. Colette sucked in a breath, releasing the air as a moan.

Landon pulled up, forcing her onto the balls of her feet, her body weight grinding her sex against his hand. He’d feel the slick lubricant her body had produced in anticipation of his touch. Her pussy felt sloppy wet and hot, the pressure of his hand wonderful, but not nearly enough.

His lips brushed her temple, his forehead nudging her raised arm forward a little so he could get closer. “When you lie in bed at night, fingering this sweet pussy, what do you picture?” He worked his hand in a rolling motion.

“Being teased,” she gasped. “My master flicking the clamps he put on my nipples and bending me over so he can check the butt plug he makes me wear. My legs spread and tied open so he can touch every inch of my pussy. Being constantly aroused, always ready to come. Aching for his cock.”

“Your master,” he repeated slowly. “These are things the man who trained you did?”

Colette shook her head, bumping his jaw. She could feel the soft silk of his hair against her forearm. “No. Sometimes.” God if he would only move his hand just a little, his fingers would slide between her pussy lips, maybe touch her clit.

“Explain.”

She had to take a minute to think of the words in English, her thoughts now mostly in French.

“He was more formal. Harsher. He liked beating me.”

“He didn’t fuck you?”

“He did. But I wasn’t attracted to him like that.”

“And he still fucked you?”

“When I was deep in the scene, or gagged in bondage.”

“Fuck, Colette.” There was horror in his voice.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s fucking not.” Landon blew out a breath, making the hair on her temple flutter. “But we’re not going to get derailed.”

Colette nodded in agreement, and she felt him smile against her head.

“So who’s the master in your fantasy?”

“Just…my master.” Someone who belonged to her as she belonged to him in turn. Someone who knew every part of her. Accepted every part of her. A fantasy.

“A faceless fantasy Master?”

“Yes, Master Landon.”

“To be clear, you crave sex with your submission. Not just sex, but for the scene to be both sexual, and sexy.”

The sentence end was flat, not raised in a question.

“Is that…bad?” Her stomach knotted with worry.

“No. For some people BDSM isn’t sexual. For some, sex, or intimacy, is just a tool used in pursuit of submission or masochism. Not a goal on its own.”

“I need the submission, too.”