I’ve read books about hucows and breeding, but I never dreamed people acted those out in real life. On my hands and knees? Does he plan to restrain me while he milks me?
I’m panting when he interrupts my thinking.
“Melody… Tell me what’s going on in your head, baby.”
“Are you into BDSM?” I blurt out. I need to know.
His lips part, but he pauses, staring into my eyes. “If you’re asking me if I belong to a kink club, the answer is no. And I wouldn’t take you to one, either. Your body is mine. I’m not going to share it with another living soul. But if you’re asking if I have a kinky side and can satisfy your inner slut, the answer is yes. I’ll do whatever gets you off, little pixie.”
“Do you own toys, then?” My curiosity about this is now piqued. I never imagined having a man in my life at all, and suddenly I’m hoping if I must have one, I’d like him to be kinky. I’m forming my dream man as I go along. Feels like it’s à la carte.
He nods. “I have a bag at home. I didn’t bring it with me. But I’ll order some things and have them shipped overnight. Or better yet, I’ll go to a bigger city on Monday morning while you’re working and pick up a variety of new toys.”
“Can I go with you?” I ask, standing taller. I’m like a new woman, taking control of my sexuality. “I know all the sex shops in the city.”
His brows shoot up and he starts chuckling. “Of course you do.”
“So? Can I go?”
“Are you going to take the day off work?”
I nod. “Yes.” The truth is I could take the entire week off if I wanted. Maybe I will. At the very least, I could scale back. For the sake of this scientific research. No matter what happens, at the end of my sex-fest, I’ll be a stronger writer.
“I’ll take you shopping, baby. It’s a great idea. I’ll be able to see your reaction to everything and know if you’re intrigued or not.”
“Keep in mind I probably know more about kink than most people. I may not have ever used a flogger or rope or spanking bench or anything else that requires a partner, but there aren’t many things that would shock me.”
He nods. “Noted. But milking you did.” Now he grins.
I shudder. “Yes. Can’t deny that.”
“Have you read about women being milked?” he asks.
I inhale deeply and nod. “Yes. I’ve read about everything. Including breeding kink, which seems to be a Wilde gene.”
He laughs. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of it as a breeding kink, but I guess it is.”
“Except you mean it for real. It’s not just a kink. You Wildes like to knock up your wives and keep them pregnant in real life. That’s not role-playing.”
“True, little pixie. But since you’re so curious, I’ll get a pump so you’ll know what it feels like to have your breasts milked.”
My breath hitches.
Fuck. Me.
And fuck my damn tits for reacting to the idea.
“You mentioned rope, too. So I assume the thought of being restrained intrigues you. We’ll get some cuffs and a variety of other forms of restraint.”
I wish I could keep from reacting to everything he says. My damn body is giving me away. I’m sure my cheeks are hot pink. No doubt my breasts are, too. There are undoubtedly splotches on my chest that he can see.
“Since you like the idea of being restrained and milked on all fours, how do you feel about a collar and a leash?”
I cringe.
He laughs. “So that’s a no, then. Got it.”
Fuck. At least he intends to listen to me.
