Page 157 of There's No Us Without You
“Yes.”
“And I knew exactly what you were asking for, even when you didn’t?”
What does that even mean? I’m so lost.
He sighs and picks up his iPad from the bench, then grabs my hand and leads me to the couch. “Sit,” he says, before handing me the tablet.
“Can you stop being so cryptic and tell me whatever it is you have to tell me?”
“That’s what I’m doing,” he says while leaning over me to open a browser. “Look.” He points to the screen.
At first, I just stare at the words, then as my eyes adjust, I realise what I’m looking at. It’s a list of kinks.
Dominance—sounds like Will.
BDSM.
Erotic asphyxiation. What the hell is that?
Discipline—also Will.
Impact play. Ouch!
Consensual non-consent. Will said that’s what my fantasy is called.
My mouth falls open, and I stare up at him now standing in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re a Dominant?”
He nods. “So to speak. I like control, Eden. Relationships”—he rubs the back of his neck—“aren’t usually my style. I have contracts.”
I blow out a breath and stare back at the screen. “You want me to be a contract?” My voice drops, my heart aching.
Why does that hurt? I thought we had something... deeper. A contract just seems so impersonal.
Will clears his throat and sits beside me. “No, I don’t want you to be a contract.” Sighing, he grips my chin and forces my face towards his. “But that doesn’t mean I throw everything out the window. I still need to dominate, but you also have to be consenting. Does that make sense?”
Then it registers. He’s always asking me if I agree to anything sexual he’s going to do before he does it. Well except for the other night when he chased me up the stairs and then proceeded to make me his with just the touch of his mouth and fingers.
Although . . . what happened afterwards, I’m still trying to wrap my head around.
“Words, Eden.” Will taps the tip of my nose, his eyes searching mine.
“I understand,” I say, nodding.
“Good girl.” He gives me a small smile, but that falls away when he glances down at his hands and grabs mine. “I need to know if that’s something you would be willing to do?” He sounds so unsure, not like him at all.
It’s my turn to lift his face to mine. “Are you asking me to... what? Be your?—”
“Submissive,” Will finishes, offering up the official term for it.
“But I thought you said you didn’t want me to be a contract.”
Shifting closer, our thighs touching, Will shakes his head. “I don’t. That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking you to willingly give yourself to me, to trust me with your body. I’ll give you some time to think?—”
He doesn’t have to convince me of anything. I’ve already decided.
“I want to be your submissive,” I say, practically jumping on top of him.
