Page 49 of Coiled Tight
“And,” Saúl intervened, “Damian is too much of a closeted masochist for a Master.”
“Ohhh?” Now I was invested—which obviously meant sitting cross-legged in the middle of the couch and leaning closer. “Please go into as much detail as you want. For science purposes.”
“Right,” Damian drawled. He didn’t look pissed off, though. There was that permanent hint of humor in his eyes as he watched me. Ireallyliked him. Even though he wouldn’t tell me about Saúl’s rut, and he would probably make me regret liking him if we did end up in his dungeon. “I suppose we can always make a deal.”
“I’m all ears.”
It took everything to remember that blurting outI’m inwithout actually listening to the conditions was a bad idea, but I did it. I really deserved a cookie.
Damian hadn’t ordered any cookies.
Maybe I should reconsider liking him.
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” He twisted his fingers together under his chin, which I didn’t know if it was a tell of his, but he got my attention. If Doms offered that much right off the bat, they wanted something even more chaotic out of you. It was Brat Dealings 101. “I’ll even let you watch… if you let me watch you get edged by your Daddy until you cry.”
Damn.
The air was sucked out of the room, wasn’t it?
It wasn’t just me.
I tried being subtle when I chanced a look Saúl’s way, but he was pretty decent when he wanted to keep a poker face.
He only leaned back and spread his legs a bit while raising an eyebrow in Damian’s direction. The moving had his thigh oh-so-casually touching my lower back. Definitely not complaining.
Was it on purpose?
I wouldn’t put it past him.
It was nothing personal, but everyone knew D-types couldn’t be trusted. I needed much more information on the type of Dom, or Daddy, or whatever, Saúl was before I dared to say that out loud, but that was a whole other thing.
“Um.” I blinked. “Why?”
It was important that we stayed on track, wasn’t it? And like, edging was hot, and I didn’t have a problem with it most of the time, but asking questions was the smart thing to do. Wasn’t it?
Besides, I’d already clocked Damian as a strict Dom. StrictDoms required handling with care. All their requests came with ways to fuck with your head. Everyone knew this.
“Because you’re hot as sin,” Damian said with a wink, “and I get scarily turned on by a boy’s tears. Plus, Saúl is a sight to behold when he’s edging someone.”
“Uh-huh.”
Another stolen glance, but Saúl didn’t say anything. I found myself fumbling. Negotiating was all fun and good, but I needed to feel anchored. Some people said that negotiations could only happen while everyone was stable and lucid and whatnot, and like, I agreed, I supposed, in theory. But nothing beat having a Dom’s arm wrapped around me while we talked, or a subtle massage keeping me relaxed while I had to make myself stupidly vulnerable in the name of keeping play responsible.
“How about you give Cam some breathing room?” Saúl grumbled. “Or maybe, next time, you run shit by me first.”
Damian was unfazed by the scolding. I really didn’t see how. It wasn’t aimed at me, and I was kind of cowering in response. But Damian kept proving he had a chaotic streak a mile wide because he just leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So it’s serious then?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
I couldn’t help it and became the stereotype that choked on thin air.
Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. Or it had. I wanted to be edged, even though it had been so fucking long. I was going to start begging and crying in two seconds flat, but maybe this was going too fast, and maybe it wasn’t a good idea to mix pleasure and business, and Damian was a bit out of my league. There was no reason to think he was, objectively, and I wasn’t a newbie or anything, but why did I suddenly feel so anxious?
I didn’t feel anxious when it came to kink. It was my biggest draw to it. I didn’t like that it felt different now.
“Cam.” Saúl spoke my name in that deeper voice he had started using ever since he had caught me with a diaper on. I was itching to mention it, but then that would mean talking about that day, and we’d both agreed we weren’t doing it, so I just swallowed it up and tried not to think too hard about what it meant. “Breathe with me.”
The sharpness in his voice meant he had to be glaring at Damian really hard. The truth was that I didn’t want to check, whatever that said about me. His glares were scary. I’d only seen them a couple of times when he got frustrated with one of the hands fucking up one thing or another. It was more than enough. Besides, I didn’t want to see his face and started reading a million other things that wouldn’t be there.
