There was Adam’s hand once more, stretching out, seeking Paul’s face. Adam cupped his cheek. “Paul, I was a Dominant. That carried certain responsibilities. It meant that when I was doing a scene with a submissive, I was taking in everything. How he looked, the sounds he made. Watching for any sign that he was in difficulty. Watching his reactions, keeping tabs on what was going on in his body, his mind. Using the knowledge I gleaned from that to steer his responses, his endorphins. He had to trust me implicitly. There had to be a connection between us, communication…” He shook his head and pulled away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that.”
Paul bit back a sigh at the loss of that hand, that unexpectedly gentle touch. “Don’t apologize.” He thought quickly how best to frame what was in his head. “I’d like to think you can talk to me about anything. I know we’ve had a few setbacks”—Adam snorted—“but that doesn’t mean we have to continue as before. Yes, I cook your meals, wash your clothes, and hopefully soon type up your books, but I can also be an ear for you when you need one.”
Adam remained silent for a moment, his head bowed. “Do you understand why I’m telling you this? How could I do all that when I couldn’t see? How can you be a Dom when you can’t fuckingsee?”
Oh God.
There it was, the secret pain that was eating away at Adam’s insides. It tore at Paul’s heart to hear the anguish in his voice. He ached to reach out and touch him, a simple gesture to let Adam know he wasn’t alone, that Paul felt for him.
It was such an incongruous moment, lying in the sun, surrounded by the happiness of his friends, and hearing pain in Adam’s voice, sharp and raw. He struggled to find words, anything that would give Adam hope.
“I don’t believe it’s over,” he said at last. “Okay, I get using whips and chains might be a thing of the past, but that doesn’t mean you’re through as a Dom. It means you need to do what you’vebeendoing ever since you lost your sight—you adapt. You find a way to explore that part of yourself.”
Come on, Adam, hear what I’m saying, yeah?
Adam turned to face him, Paul seeing himself reflected in those dark glasses. “There you go again, showing me why you deserve my respect.” He gave a half-smile. “I think you’re amazing, Paul Vaughan.”
Warmth suffused his face and a tingling sensation crept across the back of his neck.
Adam tilted his head. “Enough about me. How about you tell me why you think you have a kinky side, before your friends get back on this boat?”
Paul wasn’t stupid. Adam didn’t want to talk about it anymore, not that Paul could blame him. Of course, that meant it was his turn.
Breathe, breathe….
“About four months ago I was in London, having a night out in Soho on Brewers Street, going from gay bar to gay bar. It was okay, a bit boring perhaps. When I met someone I’d hooked up with a few months previously, he asked if I wanted to go with him to a club. He hadn’t been there before, and he lookednervous about the prospect, to be honest, so I said yeah, why not?” He swallowed. “Turns out it was a BDSM club.”
“Ah. Your first time?”
“Yeah.” His breathing quickened. “I’ve never told anyone about this.”
“That’s okay.” Adam shifted on his towel so he was closer. “You sure you want to talk about it?” His voice lowered.
Paul laughed nervously. “You’re probably the only person I can talk to about this, so yes.” A fact that had only recently dawned on him. He expelled his breath in one long push of air, as if that would get rid of his nerves. “What I saw in there… Whoa.”
“You don’t need to tell me that part. I have a fair idea.” He lifted his eyebrows, grinning.
This time Paul laughed louder. “I’m sure you do.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
Oh fuck, did I.“Yes,” he whispered.
“Can I ask you something? When you saw all those guys, watched what was happening…. Which role did you see yourself in? The one with the whip in your hand? Or the one taking it?”
“Taking it.” Paul gulped in air, conscious of his cock rising, desperate to touch it, to close his eyes and take his mind back to that club. To be thinking about someone’s hand landing on his arse, the bite of a paddle, the kiss of a whip or a flogger against his back,allof it, while he came.
“Did you ever go back to the club?”
“Yeah, three or four times.”
“Did you… participate in any scenes?”
“Yes.” It came out as another whisper.
“And did you enjoy it?”
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
