Still naked except for my fishnets and stilettos, I obey.
He sits next to me. “You seem disappointed.”
“I’m okay.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“I want you to get dressed,” he says. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“Yes.”
“But…why?”
“Because I have something to say to you, and I don’t want to do it here.”
…
Back at Braden’s penthouse, he seems distant. Finally, he asks me to sit next to him on the couch in the living area.
“I said something to you earlier. Do you remember what it was?”
“You said a lot of things to me earlier, Braden.”
He nods. “You’re right, but there was something that I said concerned me. That I was worried you were finding something at the club other than pleasure.”
Yes, he said that. And I remembered it at the club, but I chose not to think about what his words implied.
“Skye, why did you want me to bind you around your neck?”
“Because it’s what happened in the scene.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not the truth, and you know it.”
He’s right, and I only realize how right he is in this moment.
He bound me, made my nipples sing, was ready to take my anal virginity and paddle my ass until it was rosy and hot.
He offered me a beautiful scene—a scene any other woman in the club would love.
Indeed, I loved it, too.
But I craved more.
It was the neck binding. The collaring. The leading.
The…
I’m almost afraid to even think the words.
The…choking.
The ultimate loss of control.
I’ve gone from giving up control to losing control. From craving submission to needing the ultimate mark of it. But what does that all mean?
I lost my job. I lost my best friend.
I’ve lost control of my own life.
“I won’t force you to tell me, Skye, but if you want a relationship with me, you need to be honest.”
“I just…wanted it.”
“You wanted me to choke you.” His statement has no inflection. He’s not questioning. He already knows. “Why, Skye?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I mean…I have an idea.”
“And that idea is…?”
“I wanted to lose control. Completely. Give you complete control. Show you that I trust you.”
“I already know you trust me, and you’ve already given me complete control in the bedroom.”
“But I want—”
Braden reaches forward, lightly trails a finger over my forearm. “Giving me control is not about what you want. It’s about what I want.”
I hold back a shudder at his touch. “But—”
“Stop. It’s about what you want as well. But it’s for me to choose and for you to either consent or decline. Do you understand?”
I nod, swallowing, tears forming and pooling in the bottom of my eyes.
He rubs his forehead. “Damn it, Skye! Say yes or no.”
“Yes, I understand. Of course I understand, Braden.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
Before I can answer, he continues.
“Because I don’t think you do. You don’t understand me.”
I lift my eyebrows, my eyes turning to circles, the tears still threatening. “I don’t understand you? How am I supposed to understand you when you keep things from me?”
I expect him to flare up, lose his temper.
Instead—
“Point taken,” he says, even-tempered. “So let me enlighten you about something.”
“All right. I’m listening.”
“I told you once that I only have one hard limit.”
I nod.
“It’s neck binding. Breath control. Choking. I won’t do it. Ever.”
Oh? What are your hard limits?
I only have one.
What is it?
I don’t talk about it.
Don’t you think I should know? So I don’t bring it up?
Trust me, Skye. You will never bring it up.
Braden was wrong. I brought it up. Why did he think I wouldn’t?
Control. It’s the ultimate loss of control, and he assumed I’d never go there.
“Choking is taboo,” I say. “You told me once you love the forbidden.”
“I do.”
“Then why?” I ask. “Why won’t you do this?”
“Why? Perhaps I’ll tell you why…as soon as you tell me why you feel you need it.”
“I…don’t know.”
He inhales. Exhales. Inhales again. Is he thinking about how to reply to me? Is he angry? Sad? Does he feel anything at all?
Because I can’t tell.
“For God’s sake, Braden,” I finally say. “Can you show me some emotion for once in your life?”
He cocks his head as his nostrils flare. “You think I don’t show you emotion?” He stands. “How can you say that? I’ve shown you more emotion than I’ve ever shown anyone. Anyone, Skye. If you don’t know that, you should.”
He’s right. I’m not being fair. He showed me a ton of emotion last night when my dinner burned and I lost it. “Braden—”
“No. You don’t talk. Not until I’m done. I told you who I was. I told you I wasn’t wired for relationships. But I made an exception for you. I made that exception because I love you, Skye. I wasn’t looking to fall in love. I knew it would put a dent in my life—”
I can’t help responding. I’m torn in half, and I’m angry. “A dent, Braden? I’m a fucking dent?”