"Shale is a very good Mistress," Logan continued. "The cage and strap-on, she'll do. She won't put in the gag and plug all night. That was mind play only. That's too long to have something up his ass, given how sensitive those tissues are, and no Dominant would gag a sub and go to sleep, because she can't monitor his breathing."
That smile reached his eyes. "At some point tonight, Troy will beg enough that she'll let him into the bed with her, and then she'll ride him into complete dehydration. Beyond being his Mistress, she's wildly in love with him."
"It's obvious," she said. "Being around them is like watching a dream come true. It hurts some."
She wasn't sure she should have put it that way, but it was true enough. Except for the "some" part. It actually hurt a lot, especially injected with the painful, irresistible hope she couldn't seem to quell inside herself, thanks to the man beside her.
His fingers curved over the line of her jaw, his eyes becoming softer, twisting the knife such that she swallowed, dipped her head into his touch. "It's a game, Madison," he murmured. "A very serious, very real game about the things we need deep down inside ourselves."
"She said you expected this session to be short." She frowned. "Did you think I'd chicken out, or not have the stomach for it?"
"The latter, but not in the way you're thinking. It's not a failing or shortcoming, Madison. Some switches are as much identified with both sides of the whip as I'm a Dom or Troy's a sub, but a great many more of them are merely sexually adventurous. They don't need to be only one or the other to find soul-deep fulfillment with someone."
"But you do." That much was clear. It shed a different light on their earlier discussion about where this might be headed. If she wanted to be with him, if she wasn't as much into the submissive side of things as he was a Dominant, could it work?
"Do you remember what I said about bringing your choices and preferences into the decision of where we're going?" he asked.
She nodded.
"You wanted to try the other side, and you enjoyed it." A rueful look crossed his face. "I won't say it was enjoyable for me to watch you touch another man, though I did enjoy watching how you had fun with it, the revelations you made. But at a certain point, you crossed the line between fun and something deeper. I saw the click. You not only picked up on the deeper layer of what this means to Troy, but what it means to you. If it was just all fun and games, just a sexual adventure, you could have seen it through to a different end, but you sensed there was something more there. And that was what you wanted, wasn't it?"
At her silence, he touched her chin. "I know you feel like I'm infringing on your sense of choice when I state something like that, so I'll make it a question."
"Versus a statement of the obvious?" She gave him a narrow look, and he chuckled.
"Let's pretend I'm asking it as a question, to save me from a possible dose of female silent treatment. You made your choice, didn't you?"
As she wrestled with her answer, he slid a finger along her collarbone, hooked her bra strap. With gentle pressure, he brought her back up onto her knees, bent and put an arm around her waist, sliding her and the cushion closer so she was between his knees, one of those effortless shifts using his upper body strength that made her stomach tilt pleasantly. In this position, she could settle her palms on his thighs to balance herself there, and she did so.
"When you made that decision and came to me, wanting to kneel at my feet, it took all I could do not to send them packing right then. Everything in me said 'mine.'"
The look in his eyes, the way her heart leaped at his words, told her the only thing she was struggling with was her pride. Yet the possible truth made her want to skitter away like a rabbit. He laid a hand over hers on his knee, holding her in place.
"I don't want it to scare you away, Madison. Until you say it back, and truly mean it, want it with all your heart, then it's not any obligation on you, you understand? We're each responsible for our own feelings, no matter how much they overlap or tangle."
"I want to believe you. I just have a deficit of trust in . . . everything."
"Do you want me to help you with that?"
She swallowed at what she saw in his gaze. Promise, threat. Change. "Yes. But I'm scared. A little bit in some ways, a lot in others."
His expression became tender, making that twist in her chest even tauter. She expected it was a unique look for him, one he didn't often bestow on a woman. Else he'd have a line of groupies outside his front door every morning. "I know the feeling."
"Nothing scares you."
"Spiders make me scream like a girl when they jump out from between the boxes in the storeroom. Troy has to do the catch and release."
"Liar." She aimed a punch at his midriff, which he blocked, capturing both her hands and bringing her to her feet. Molding his palms over her buttocks, he drew her up against him.
"Why, Miss Fine. You're wearing a thong. That's as much against school regulations as Troy not wearing any underwear at all. When an authority figure breaks the rules, their punishment is twice as severe."
Fun and games. He would start her off with fun and games, understanding how she liked to role-play. All she had to do was take the bait, with full knowledge that he'd ultimately take her far beyond the amusement park, into the dark workings beneath it.
She held his gaze, the two of them caught in that stasis, waiting for her decision. Then she lowered her gaze, plucked at a button of his shirt as she gave him a coy glance through her lashes. "Is there anything I can do to get out of it . . . Superintendent?"
"Are you offering me a bribe, Miss Fine?" His disapproving look made her toes curl. He was really good at this. She wondered if he'd done role-playing as a child as well. Pirates, Captain Kirk, cowboys.
"A sexual favor, actually." She moistened her lips, glanced down significantly. "I have excellent oral communication skills. I've heard you have a rather large . . . need in that department."