"Maybe."
She scoffs. "Why were you there anyway?"
I lean forward, setting my cutlery down and resting my elbows on the table while I watch her. It seems like a naive question, considering she worked at my brother’s club.
"Why do you think?"
She glances away, pulling her plush bottom lip between her teeth and chewing on it as she avoids answering me. I want to lean forward and release that lip from its trap.
"Grace, look at me." The demand leaves me without a second thought. My siblings would tell you I've always been demanding and that I get my control issues from my father, but right now, I just want to see her eyes during this realization.
I want to know what she thinks of it.
She worked at the club. Shouldn't that mean she's into it? Even just a little bit?
But Grace Morgan seems so innocent. Small-town girl with big city dreams. Did she get in over her head?
"You know what Haven is for, right?"
"Yes," she hisses, then runs a hand through her hair. She's flustered. She doesn't like talking about sex.
I can feel the corners of my lips lifting in amusement. She really is an innocent little thing.
"Did you ever partake?"
Her head rears back slightly. "That's personal."
"We're about to be married."
“Well…” She darts her tongue across her lip and raises her eyes to actually look at me again. “Are you looking for a wife or asubmissive?”
She says “submissive” like she’s afraid of what it could mean. Like the word itself might cause her harm. I assumed she was a sub. Everything about her radiates that she is, that she likes having someone else take control, to tell her what to do. It's part of the reason I thought she'd be a perfect fit for this offer.
But now I'm wondering if I was wrong…
“Both,”I say, testing her for a response. I wouldn't force anyone to sleep with me or practice a kink dynamic that they're not into. And truthfully, I need a wife in order to take over the company. That's more important to me than having someone to play with. There are plenty of willing women at Haven, anyway. But I want to know how Grace responds. I need to see if I’m truly wrong about her or if she's as submissive as I think she is.
Her eyes flare at my answer, and she clears her throat. She looks like a deer caught in headlights. My interest in her only increases.
“Are you, like…asadistor something?” she asks in a whisper that makes me chuckle.
“A sadist?" Is that what she thinks kink is? That everyone who partakes just wants to cause pain. "No.”
“But you are a…?”
“I'm a Dominant. You worked at the club; you don’t know the difference?”
She shakes her head quickly. “I mean, I know some stuff from my friend, Kacey. She’s the one who got me the job there. But I’ve never actually done any ofthat.”The words spill ina nervous ramble, her sweet expression pinching. “Are you… I mean, do you–”
“Are you asking if I want to fuck you, Miss Morgan?”
Her cheeks pinken at my blunt statement.
She swallows audibly, and then she nods.
“I have certaindesiresin the bedroom, but I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to.”
She nods again, albeit shakily. “What if I don’t want to have sex?”
