Page 4 of The Story of You
“You’re the one listing off fruits and vegetables and stop-light colors.”
“And yet, none of those are my safeword.”
“You need a beating.”
His eyes fill with lust. “And here I thought you would punish me for my rash behavior, Raja.”
It’s nearly impossible to punish a masochist like Lakshan, but I’m creative. “Later. First, you’ll fulfill your husbandly duties as my whore. Remove your clothes.”
He unbuttons his shirt, but slower than he knows I like. Fuck. He has more questions. People think controlling someone is so easy. Not when they’re Lakshan. “Answer my question, Raja. You know the one.”
The one I avoided.Was it the same when he touched you? Did you feel safe then?
“Yes. And he … God. He somehow knew everything I liked. But Lak, I did hate it. I hated it and loved it I…” It’s the same fucking conflict, the same ending, the same conclusion over and over and over.
He shrugs out of his shirt. My eyes fall to his dark abs and then travel up to his still unpierced nipples. “I’m piercing those,” I remind him.
“Of course, Raja. And it’s possible to love and hate something at the same time. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. You loved him and you hated him.”
“You mean I loved him, and I hated the things he did.”
He shakes his head as his nimble fingers unbutton his black slacks. “That isn’t what I meant. Is that what’s true for you? You loved him and hated the things he did? Or you loved him, and you hated him.”
The memory of Oliver’s screams slices through me and along with that my pure hatred of him. “I loved him, and I fucking hated him.”
“There you go. Just because you love the rain, does that mean you hate the sun?”
I stare at him as though I’ve never seen him before—it happens from time to time. “Why have you never wanted to be a therapist?”
He frowns. My heart drops into the basement of my stomach. It is my unreasonable vow to make Lakshan happy every moment of his life. Frowns are unacceptable. “My life is about serving you. It’s the only purpose I have and the only purpose I want.”
I release the breath I was holding. I’m so fucking lucky. “Good.”
He laughs and everything feels better. “As if you’d let me. I’m sure you’d try your best for me.” He pauses his undressing and reaches to move some hair away from my face. It’s getting too long.
“I would to ‘let’ you if that’s what you wanted.”
“Hmmm, let’s explore that,” he says, hopping off the desk so he can kick off his shoes and slide out of his pants. “I would be out of the house most days of the week assuming I’m working full time, who knows what I’d be doing all day.”
My skin prickles with dread. “You would be seeing patients.”
“Yeah, but what about at lunch? Who would I eat lunch with?”
“Your husband. In fact, this building has plenty of office space.” I know that because I own it. “Your office would be set up here.”
“Okay. So, I’ve got an office here. I’m seeing patients eight hours a day.” His fingers play at the waistband of his white cotton briefs. “My husband eats lunch with me. Then we go home at the end of a long day, and I’ve got to make dinner and prep meals and when I’m not doing that, I’m looking after our home.”
“Money. We have lots and lots of money. I’ll hire someone to cook for us and we do have house cleaners, you know.”
He laughs. “That’s funny. As if I’d ever let someone else cook for us. Yes, we have house cleaners, but they aren’t there twenty-four seven. You know I like to tidy and arrange things and make it our home.”
“I’m head of the household, what I say goes. If I say we’re getting a chef, we’re getting a chef. I can hire more people whoever and whenever.”
“Okay, okay so you convince me—in some wild universe—to let that argument go and we have all that as you say, but then one day you need me to kneel under your desk and warm your cock for you, but I can’t because I have patients to see.”
I swallow. I don’t have an answer. Correction, I don’t have therightanswer. The right answer is that it’s crazy to expect him to choose me over his job. That’s just kinky sex stuff. Of course, his career would be more important than driving across town just because I want him to warm my cock.
But the honest answer is I’m inclined to chain him to my bed.
