I nodded, heaving a sigh when the weight I’d been carrying fell away. Well, most of it, since I still needed to explain to him who I was and who my family was. I was a fucking prick for not telling him the truth. My dad was right when he pointed out that withholding the truth was the same as lying, and neither made for a good marriage, but I was petrified how he’d react.
“On the blankets or under them? Up to you.”
The idea of cuddling with him under the blankets appealed to me. I reached for the comforter, but he beat me to it.
“I got it,” he said, peeling it back and holding it open so I could climb in.
I settled in, and he let the blankets drop over me. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab some snacks and water.”
I nodded, and he kissed my forehead. I felt amazing at the moment, but the chaos of the war between dominant and submissive took hold, and I called out, “Can you stay?”
He didn’t say a word. He just climbed into the bed next to me, scooting me over to make room for his big body. I settled against him, and everything fell into place.
“You ready to talk about why I stood in the door for ten minutes watching you stare at the closet like it held the answers to the universe while holding two shirts?”
“I’m struggling trying to wrap my head around… being submissive. I’ve never felt completely comfortable being in the dominant role. I’m a big guy; I like being in charge, but I don’t like being expected to be in charge. But I’m not dominant like you are.”
“Carinõ, D/s relationships and roles are fluid. The same way gender and sexuality are. There are no boxes. There are… spectrums, sliding scales that move based on who you’re with and the situation.”
“I’m pretty sure you, my husband, are not on a sliding scale.”
“I can be. That day in Vegas in the shower… by the way, what’s with you and showers?”
I shrugged. “I asked myself that as well. I guess I like it when you’re hot and wet.”
He laughs, “Anyway, that day in Vegas…”
“You mean our honeymoon?”
He cocked his eyebrow at me, and I zipped my lips like I did as a kid.
“Thank you. In Vegas, the morning after we got married, the start of our honeymoon—better?” I nodded, and he continued, “That morning, I was much more submissive.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes.
“Don’t do that, carinõ. Don’t dismiss something I’m struggling to come to terms with because I am struggling. What we need to remember is we’ve not been married for very long. When you think about it, we’ve only spent six days together if you don’t count the texting we did between hooking up and tying the knot.”
I laughed. “Think that’s some kinda record?”
“Not even close.”
I chewed my lip before I said, “I feel like everything I know about myself has been shaken and not stirred. And being a switch makes much sense. So much sense, but… I guess I just felt like now that I had an answer to why sometimes I was very dominant and sometimes I wasn’t, and why there were times when I hated being perceived… however someone perceived me to be, that it would all make sense. Like the box is okay, but sometimes I hate being in a box that I love at other times. Does that make sense?”
“Okay, wow. Let me unpack that. Cause that was a lot of words. By the way, breathing is a recommended activity even when talking.”
“Dick.”
“You love my dick, but I can understand what you’re saying that sometimes you don’t mind being dominant, and sometimes you don’t mind being submissive, but you hate when people judge you or expect you to be one of the other.”
“Yes!”
33
HAYDEN
Shit.
I was one of those people that pushed him into a box he wasn’t comfortable in. Into the box I wanted him to be in.
