“No. I admit I was expecting something a little… milder.”
Quinn shrugs. “Mild doesn’t tend to work for me. It’s too relaxing.”
“Ah. And relaxing means—?”
“I’ll probably fall asleep part way through a scene, which isn’t fun for anyone.” He winces.
“If that happens, it happens. I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”
“You’re used to having to switch things up,” Quinn recalls. “Got it.”
I smile. “We’ll come back to how you like to feel pain in a moment. First, tell me what else you like.”
“Being edged. Once I orgasm, it’s game over, so being edged prolongs the experience. It’s harder to fall asleep if I’m frustrated, but not impossible. Pain, on the other hand, well, that can keep me going for longer.”
“What sort of pain play?”
“Anything that can keep me present and in the moment. Hair pulling, nipple clamps.” His pupils get wider as he talks. Even though he’s looking right at me, he’s no longer focusing on me. “Pegs on my body. I…” His pupils shrink again. “I like things that leave marks.”
Also not what I was expecting, but I keep my expression neutral this time.
“Biting. Scratching. Love bites. Anything that leaves a mark. After our conversation in the pub the other night, I did fantasise about you biting my neck.”
I chuckle. “Like a vampire?”
“Without the sucking blood part, yes. A fierce love bite would be hot as hell.”
I shiver as I imagine doing just that. I’m used to subs who like any potential marks to be on parts of their body that can be easily hidden. Other than wearing a scarf, marks on the neck aren’t easy to conceal.
“But I don’t like to be humiliated.” Quinn’s words bring me out of my tempting thoughts. His mouth twists. “Is that weird? Can I like the pain side of masochism but not the humiliation side?”
I squeeze his hand. “You can like whatever you want.”
“I imagine a large part of your job is humiliating your clients.”
“It is.”
Quinn looks toward the window. “You must enjoy it.”
“If you’re worried I won’t be happy unless you let me humiliate you, don’t be. Yes, I enjoy it. I wouldn’t be any good at my job if I didn’t. But there’s a difference between who I am at work and who I am at home. I get to be ultra-strict most evenings. I don’t need it at home as well.” I touch his arm. “I’m sure I said something along those lines the day you moved in.”
Quinn smiles and looks at me. “When we played truth or dare. I remember.”
“I’m happy with a mutually respectful dynamic.”
Quinn’s expression becomes brighter, which makes my chest quiver.
“What else do you like?” I ask.
“I like the room being light and bright.”
“Does that help you stay awake too?”
“Yes.”
I tug on his hand, encouraging him to come to me. He moves so his back is against my chest. He strokes my arm and knee.
“Do you have any hard limits?” I ask. “Other than no humiliation.”
