“God, I love how much you’re trusting me to open up. You’re doing such a beautiful job.” Remington’s purring words pulse heat to my groin. He traces my rising chest with his eyes before lifting his focus back to my face. “What about praise?”
The sultry tone to his words tells me he’s seen right through me - probably formonths. I nibble on my bottom lip. “Y-yes.”
Remington breaks into a broader smile.
But I’m not done. “B-but a big,bigyes.”
His breathing pauses. Then he sucks in a deep, shuddering inhale. “Fuck. I had no idea how this would go today, but so far, we have a lot of shared interests. We could have a lot of fun, if you feel up to it.”
My heart flips. “I do. I– I really want to try, even though it’s a little scary.”
Remington shakes his head in disbelief, but he’s not smiling anymore. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. So, so proud of you.”
He flusters me speechless. Remington laughs, rubbing my arms until I can giggle with him again. Once I regain my bearings, we get to work narrowing down our common interests and throwing out our hard limits. So far, it sounds like he’s not as interested in some of the hardcore kinks that I expected he might be as a Dungeon Monitor. I’m relieved I won’t make him miss out on too much.
A world opens up to me that I’ve never imagined possible - one where Remington might be willing to accept me at my most vulnerable. And as he leans in closer, whispering his own secrets, I’m dying to be the one to accept him too.
CHAPTER 8
AS WE FIZZLE OUT OFideas, Remington looks me in the eyes, gathering my focus.
“Hey, before we go any further, I want you to know something important: these things can trigger a lot of emotions, so even though you’re showing me how good you’re getting at saying ‘no,’ it’s okay if you have trouble with it again when you’re feeling a lot. If you reach a point where you feel like you can’t say ‘no’ out loud, do you think you’d feel comfortable enough either giving my hand a tight squeeze–” Remington demonstrates with a hard, fast squeeze of my hand. “Or by using a red light, yellow light, green light system?”
My shoulders soften. “Yes, I think so.”
“Okay, then we’re golden for today. We’ll come up with a safeword together too.”
With my hopes restored, I smile. “O-okay. I’d like that. For you too. I want you to feel safe.”
My words seem to catch Remington off guard. But it’s not a bad thing: a giddy lightness traces his eyes, loosening his laughter and widening his smiles.
We adjust to face each other as we continue to chat casually, tracing each other’s hands. But Remington’s tan skin looks so beautiful against my light olive skin that I place his forearm in my lap, tempted to give him closer attention. My fingers shake, but I trace the wispy ink at his wrist, following it down the back of his hand. Remington droops into the couch with a hum. I peek up at him in concern, but he gives me an encouraging smile.
“That’s nice,” he whispers.
I nod, dropping my palm to trace wider, tickling circles over his whole hand. He shivers, and I giggle beneath my breath, trading my tickling sweeps for a gentle massage.