“I need you on this one. I need a submissive.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. “A submissive or your submissive?” He had better answer that question the right way, or I’d flip my shit in a heartbeat.
“I need you and only you. I need the submissive who’ll kneel at my feet and do as I say without a fight.”
I cackled loudly because fight was my middle name. “Seriously? You want me to be that girl?”
“Sweetheart, you are that girl.”
“It’s been a long time since we’ve played, James.”
Too long in fact. Last weekend had made the yearning I had for his domination grow after such a long drought of normal, only mildly kinky sex.
“It’s not something you lose after a few months.” He glanced in my direction with his piercing eyes. “And it’s not something that can be faked with someone who isn’t mine.”
I never thought I’d like being called his. It made it seem like he was invoking territorial rights over me, but it always made my pussy throb and got my heart pumping.
“So we’re going to a sex club in Miami?”
He nodded and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, adjusting his body in the seat.
Fuck yeah. I was all in, baby. There was something about seeing James in the inner workings of a dungeon that got my pulse racing faster than the car we’d been sitting in.
The man had it.
He had the commanding spirit and the best qualities of the dirtiest master, with just the perfect amount of iron fist and soft love. There was no one else I’d ever let control me but him.
It wasn’t like I’d gone looking for a sexual dominant, but I’d sure as hell found one.
We kept it in the bedroom, though, especially as the boys have grown older. The last thing I wanted them to think was that they could boss a woman around and get whatever they wanted. We kept our kink in the bedroom, or if I was lucky, at the club, and we remained completely fifty-fifty partners when we weren’t getting our freak on.
“It’s where I first honed my craft.”
“So I get to meet the people who started you on your course of perversion?” I was almost giddy at the thought of meeting James’s friends from back in the day.
Young James.
Hotter James.
And probably the world’s biggest tool.
“Babe, you wouldn’t love me without it.”
He was right. I loved him for his strength. If he were weak, we’d never have worked. I’d be wearing the pants, and it would have gotten old quick. I loved control, but sometimes I wanted someone else to take the reins and handle shit so I could take a freaking break.
“It won’t be easy for me to expose you to the group there.”
Expose? I mulled the word over a bit, wondering if he wanted me to get naked or if just the very thought of introducing me to his Dom friends in Miami didn’t sit well with him.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him, but I wasn’t sure it did the trick.
“The group at our club is more social and a hell of a lot friendlier.” I could feel his tension.
I reached across the console and placed my hand on his forearm. “I’ve dealt with pricks my whole life, James. I’m sure I can handle these guys.”
“You will go in there fully clothed in an outfit that I choose and wearing my chain and collar so they know you’re my property. There’s nothing more to discuss.”
I fingered the collar around my neck and remembered the day he gave it to me. That ceremony meant just as much as our wedding vows did in the church, but it had an entirely different meaning. Except the bit about obeying, but I doubted the church meant dropping to my knees and sucking him off when he commanded it.
