Page 41 of Kissing Kayley
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I would be willing to experiment with that one,” I said. “I can’t promise you anal will become a fave, but I won’t know if I like it if I don’t try it.”
He pointed it at me. “Excellent mindset.”
I cracked up as he waggled the butt plug at me and, once again, I knew he was doing this on purpose. I loved that he defaulted to humor with me, knowing me, neutralizing the preconceived mental and emotional stress I’d built up over this.
No matter what we eventually decided to do, he was a man of his word and wouldn’t pressure me about it.
“I think I would prefer to experiment with that in private,” I added. “In case of…. you know. Accidents. I get that they’re totally equipped to clean if there are issues, but that’s a me thing.”
He nodded and brought it over to the bed. “That’s fair. See? We’re negotiating. Give and take. It’s not difficult to use our words.”
I wasn’t so naive that I thought it wasn’t far more complex than that, but I loved Vic for not being an asshole and for being willing to take this slow.
Excruciatingly slow.
“We might need to speed this up from glacial to tortoise,” I joked.
“Huh?”
I indicated the armoire again. “Negotiations. We only have a couple of weeks here.”
He arched an eyebrow. “This is how I want to do it. Are you objecting to how your Sir is handling this negotiation with you?”
His voice dropped in pitch, too, and something about it plucked sweet, sexy strings deep inside me, a resonating tone of pleasure and need I belatedly realized he was deliberately invoking.
And from his evil smile I knew he enjoyed the reaction he elicited from me.
I shook my head. “No, Sir. Not objecting.”
“Good girl.”
My clit pulsed and I wondered how long it took to use operant conditioning to train someone to get horny just from talking to them in a certain tone of voice.
He showed me a few paddles and riding crops and other implements from the armoire, and I agreed to a couple of the less malevolent-looking ones.
He added them to the growing pile on the bed and returned to the armoire. “How about these?” He held something up.
“What are they?”
“Nipple clamps. These look like the least mean ones they have.”
I winced. “Let’s try those in the room first. I reserve the right to say no.”
He brought them over for me to examine.
“You have the right to say no to anything,” he said. “Not trying to beat that dead horse, but?—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I turned the clear plastic bag over in my hands as I examined the nipple clamps.
I didn’t want to think about whether or not my brother had sets of these to use on Jordan and Elliot.
Then again, imagining the president of the United States running around the White House in a gimp suit wasn’t exactly on my fantasy bingo card.
I set them aside and shooed him back to the armoire. “What’s next?”
We went through the rest of the contents and picked out a few more implements, including several floggers on the fluffy-bunny end of the scale, a supple leather slapper, and a vibrator.
“I’m glad you’re not threatened by these,” I said, examining the vibrator.
