Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I…had nothing.
“One last thing,” he said. “What if I catch feelings for him? I don’t have the faintest idea how the Daddy Dom in me would react if unleashed. I don’t know my own boundaries or capabilities. I once thought it would be hot to spank a boyfriend, and I ended up being a primal Sadist who gets off on chasing someone through a dark forest and then rapefucking his ass while holding a dull knife to his throat.”
I swallowed hard as unease settled in my stomach like a jagged rock.
“Hurts to think about, doesn’t it?” he said. He shook his head. “I ain’t doin’ that to you, Nate. I’d rather walk away from kink altogether than risk hurting you.”
No… No, that was taking it too far, and I shook my head too. And I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m not hurt, love. I’m unsettled. But that doesn’t mean this is what I want. You say you won’t risk hurting my feelings, and I’m saying I refuse to watch you go through life and keep that part of you on a leash. I won’t fucking do it. Because I see risks too. I see a risk of you growing resentful in the future. Or maybe not even that. Maybe just…a bit of sadness or regret for not having explored such a big part of your desires.” I paused and swallowed, and determination reentered my system. “You spend every day looking out for our family. You never miss a game or a recital. You still show up at my office sometimes and surprise me with lunch and—”
“So do you,” he interjected.
“But I also have my passions,” I pointed out. “The moment I set foot in the dojo every week, I get to live out who I am in kink.”
“Do you?” He cocked his head. “Really. Do you get to do all of it? You never top anyone sexually. You tie them up.”
I did a bit more than that. “Fair, it’s nonsexual, but that’s not a requirement for my happiness. It’s like a bisexual person settling down with one gender. If it’s love, it’s love. I can be vers and still get all my enjoyment from bottoming for you. Bondage for me is…” It was tough to put into words. “It’s control, in short. It’s trust. It’s a power exchange in its own right. In that moment, I am a Dom. I am fulfilled.”
Ash exhaled and withdrew his hand to scrub it over his mouth and jaw.
“I’m not gonna quit, Ash,” I said resolutely. “It doesn’t have to be Timothy, but it needs to be someone. If you discover you have good chemistry with one of those brats you have running circles around you, we should act on it. Together. And…feelings and attachments—we’ll deal with it. Okay?”
He didn’t reply.
How long could this go on?
I guess what I’m doing is…I’m anchoring myself to our memories when I feel like you’re slipping away. I think of your tight hugs and the amount of comfort you can pack into a single kiss to my temple.
If soul mates are real, you’re mine.
CHAPTER 8
Three years ago
Mclean
Ash Riley
It was crazy how much a place could both put me at ease and unsettle me.
Mclean House consisted of a grand, three-story Victorian, with playrooms, nightclub area, shower rooms for watersports, a dojo for the ropers, and a million possibilities. We were surrounded by fields, a forest, and memories of takedowns, brat screams, and pain. The inspiration wrote itself out here, and yet, I wasn’t ready for much of it.
Perfect. The patio was almost empty. Members hadn’t started showing up for tonight’s happenings yet, so I was looking forward to catching some late-spring sun at one of the picnic tables while I prepared for my demo.
Reese had asked me to demonstrate knife play to D-types only. No playthings allowed.
Cam was the only one out here. He was one of the younger kids. Around twenty or so.
It helped that they hadn’t uncovered the pool yet for the season. Otherwise, the pool drew a crowd. Every damn day, it seemed.
I glanced over at the founding members’ six A-frame cabins that lined the western perimeter, wondering if the twins were around. I knew Colt and Lucas were here somewhere. Their task for the afternoon was to hide candy bars down in the forest.
“How you doin’, brat?” I asked, dumping my knife bag on the table.
He glanced up from his book and gave me a frustrated look. “I’m not a brat, Sir. And hello. Good to see you again.”
Oh. Huh. See, I was under the impression you were a brat if you did bratty things.
Maybe I was wrong.
I sat down across from him. “So, last time when you helped Tate fill Kingsley’s shoes with sand, that was what?”
“A one-time thing,” the boy responded quickly. “I owed him a favor.”