Page 81 of Hidden

She huffed. “I’m not a delicate flower, Peter.”

“Watch it, little one. You don’t have to get defensive with me. I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. What Iamsuggesting is that every single one of us has triggers, and if we know each other’s, it will keep us from barging into potential mine fields. If you have a trigger around punishment and discipline, we need to talk about it.”

She tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair and slipped it onto her wrist. “I don’t know if I would call it a trigger. But it’s definitely the reason I am how I am. My father was big on punishment to mold his children. But it never really worked for me, and I was rebellious as fuck.”

Peter patted his knees. “Straddle me. Then tell me what punishment looked like.”

She shifted and turned so she could plant one knee on either side of his legs and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Lots of yelling. He had a belt that he kept in the living room that definitely wasn’t for holding his pants up.”

Peter pressed her cheek against his chest and kissed her crown.

“So he was abusive.”

She gave a terse nod. “I never saw it that way when I was growing up. He’s an Admiral. I grew up around other military families. It’s just how things were. I can’t tell you the number of times I got dragged home by one of my dad’s colleagues. Or watched friends get punished while I was at their house.”

Peter stroked her hair. “I’m sorry, baby. So sorry. Are you still in touch with him?”

Carrie nodded. “He cut me off when I became an art major instead of pre-law. Didn’t show up at my graduation after I wound up majoring in journalism. Mom sent a card. Now I talk to him once a month. My journalism awards kind of melted some of the ice.”

She sat up in his lap but kept her hands on his chest. “I’m not super messed up about it, but I can’t stand the idea of having a sexual partner act like my father.”

He reached up and caressed her face. “No worries there, baby. Discipline in a D/s relationship is meant to enhance, not force someone to behave in a way they don’t want to.”

She cocked her head to one side. “I don’t follow.”

“Let’s say you break a rule in our dynamic… And that assumes we have one so stop giving me that look.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“Good girl. So you’ve broken a rule. With me, you can assume that any rule I set out is one, inside your limits, and two, set to enhance our pleasure or achieve whatever goal we’ve set for our partnership.”

She gave a slow nod. “I get that part.”

“If you’ve agreed to the dynamic, agreed to the rules, agreed to the goals, there has to be a reason you’ve strayed. A good Dom won’t go straight to punishment—unless that’s what they agreed on. A good Dom is going to ask questions and find out what made you stray. Are you having a bad day? Did I miss a cue and you’re needing more attention from me? Did you make a mistake? Or maybe you’re looking for pain and thought the best way to get it was to get a reaction out of me. That never works, by the way, at least not the way you want it to.”

He settled his hands on her hips. “If you’re having a hard time with your role as a submissive, or you keep forgetting a part of our rituals, some kind of discipline is going to help put us both on the right track. If I’ve been lax in my role, enforcing our dynamic will help remind me to do better while giving you the attention you need, even if it’s a little uncomfortable. Not to mention all of this is designed to make sure we both get a lot of pleasure out of our arrangement.”

She sucked in a breath through her nose and exhaled, turning her face away from his. His gaze was too intense sometimes, the way he studied her as if he could see her deepest darkest corners and she was afraid of what he might find hidden there.

“I want to do this with you and not because I can see how much you want it. But because it sounds hot and also comforting at the same time.”

“That’s good to hear. There will be times when I want you to do something for me simply because it’s something I want, but this is not one of those times.”

Her legs had grown uncomfortable, so she moved to get off his lap and pace—her go-to thinking exercise.

“What kinds of things do you want from me?”

He sat on the sofa so relaxed, his leg splayed, his arms stretched out on the back of it and yet he somehow looked regal. Like a ruler about to dispense judgment. And it turned her on.

“I want everything, sweet Carrie. I want to strip you bare and discover your innermost desires. The things you keep hidden from the rest of the world. I want you to kneel for me, not because I’m better than you, but because you trust me to strip you and make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. Because you want to show me all of you and I, in turn, will give you all of me.”

Her heart slammed into her throat as she approached him. It felt erotic and terrifying as she sank to her knees in front of him.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured as he leaned forward and stroked her hair. “One thing, though. Next time, you’ll be bare when you kneel for me.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “I hope you won’t be. Not that I don’t like you naked,” she added quickly when he quirked an eyebrow up at her and scowled.

---