Page 6 of Vienna Betrayal

“I find that heavy impact play takes me out of subspace, rather than putting me in it. It feels physically, and emotionally, like a beating.”

“‘Heavy’ is not a precise term.”

She licked her lips, which were a sweet berry color. “True, but if I can’t trust my partner to know heavy impact play from light, then I shouldn’t trust him with my body at all.”

It made sense when she said it, but for her own sake Alexander thought she should have a more detailed list of implements as well as upper limit counts.

“Why no alone bondage or human furniture?” he asked as he took a step towards her.

“I have no desire to be tied up and left alone in a corner. These events only last three days; why waste them? And as a woman, I object, philosophically, to being treated as a doormat or side table. Society does that well enough, and this is an escape.”

“Some need it.” Her words made him feel slightly guilty for the times he’d rested a drink on the pert ass of a submissive.

She tipped her head, a smile playing about her lips. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

“No,” he agreed.

Her expression turned chagrined. “I’m sorry, that was terribly rude of me.”

He nodded to acknowledge her apology. If he’d had a list of hard limits, discussion of why he was so taciturn—and how he’d gotten that way—would have been at the top of the list.

“Shall we begin?” he asked.

“You don’t want to negotiate for your needs?” Alena countered. “You know what I want, Sir, but I don’t have your papers.” She gestured to the folded sheets he’d set aside. “How will I know what you like in your play partners?”

“I’ll tell you.” Alexander was behind her, and he leaned in, let his nose brush the strands of her dark hair. “Or I’ll punish you. Stand up.”

“You’ll punish me for breaking rules I don’t even know?” She rose to her feet, and he got his first good look at her ass, the lower curve of each cheek exposed by the cut of the lace panties.

“Yes.”

Her breath caught and then she swallowed—a small, involuntary expression of excitement or trepidation.

“That’s…” her voice trailed off.

“Unfair?” He stayed behind her, where she couldn’t see him. It was a deliberate power move, which just so happened to give him time to continue studying her backside. The wide black ribbon bows at her hips tempted him to rush, to get past the foreplay and start pinning that ass with a spanking.

But he wouldn’t.

He would savor her, and in doing so bring her to the outer edge of pain where it transitioned to pleasure. If she’d been willing to engage in more sexualized play he would have planned to do the inverse, pleasure her until pleasure became pain.

He headed for one of the trunks scattered around the room. The Doms had been invited to take what they needed from any trunks or chests, all of which had been stocked with things they might need, though almost every Dom also had their own kit of personal toys.

“…perfect,” she breathed.

He paused, surprise making his brows rise as he looked back at her.

Alena turned just her head, soft waves of dark hair framing her face “I’ve always liked a Dom who’s a little bit cruel.”

“You want a sadist?” She’d asked about his limits, and sadism was one of them. Not because he didn’t enjoy it.

Because he might enjoy it too much.

“No. I want a Dom who will make me feel things that a sane, repressed person would run screaming into the night to avoid.” One corner of her mouth curled in a half-smile.

Alexander couldn’t help but return her smile with one of his own. Of course she didn’t want a sadist top. Heavy impact play was one of her limits. He shoved aside the vague sense of disappointment.

He bent and fiddled with the trunk latches. It opened, and as he’d expected, it was full. Also as expected, most of the contents were for post-play as this was one of the aftercare lounges.

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