Page 71 of Coiled Tight
“I’m… Okay, so CBT is, um, a soft limit, and sensory deprivation is all good when I don’t have an audience, and, um, I’m going to start rambling now, but… So I keep reading people in forums and stuff that are likefuck douching every time,andyou don’t need to douche, just keep a balanced dietand like a million other things, and I mean, more power to them? But I’m kind of anal about it, pun fully intended.” Before he could berate me for it, I took a deep breath. Daddy didn’t say anything, but I visualized him praising me for it, and it was almost just as good as the real thing. “Anyway. It’s not like I need scheduled sex or anything, but I didn’t want to kill the vibe by rushing to the shower, and I didn’t have anything with me anyway, so… That’s why.”
“Noted.” Was that a growl in the back of Daddy’s throat? It wasn’t helping my situation, was all. “Are you in a more Little headspace, or can I be frank?”
The question didn’t make sense at first—but Daddy was nothing if not careful. I’d known that from the beginning; it showed in everything, from how he handled the horses to how he addressed everyone in the sanctuary. But he kept proving himself, showing so much consideration, it blew my mind. Sure, there was a chance that he was doing the bare minimum, and I’d just been burned too many times.
I didn’t care.
“You can be frank.” I curled my fingers around the edges of the seat.
The leather there was peeling, rougher, and definitely not as nice as the one in the swing. I should ask him if he had a swing like that in the house, but the struggle to not seek friction was hard enough as it was.
Daddy spared me a glance before returning his eyes to the road. I understood the necessity of it, but if I glowered at the tar before us… Well, that was between me and… Me.
Yeah.
“I keep picturing your ass and thighs bruised up on mylap.” He let out a deep exhale before adjusting himself. I supposed it was a good thing I wasn’t the only one unaffected but damn, now I really wasn’t going to stop thinking about it, was I? The shape of his cock was not one I was easily forgetting. “Gotta keep reminding myself it’s not a good idea with how many hours you’ll have to be sitting after.”
“I don’t sit much in the sanctuary.”
I’d thought I would when I first got the position, but it was more grueling than I’d imagined. Even when there weren’t any emergencies or wounded animals to take care of, checking in with the workers and making time to get closer to the animals so that they were used to our scents meant a lot of moving around.
Not that it would’ve changed my answer much. Feeling those bruises every time I tried to get comfortable days after they had been caused might even be better than the actual bruising. I liked the physical, constant reminder, the discomfort that was impossible to ignore and all-encompassing.
I liked how turned on it kept me.
Daddy cleared his throat. “I’m aware.”
I so wanted to lean forward and tease the bulge in his jeans. Which meant finding something to distract myself with.
“How does it work? I mean, being a Sadist on top of a Daddy?”
I licked my lips once the words were out of my mouth, and I didn’t have to pretend my throat wasn’t as dry as it felt. The question had been plaguing me, though. We hadn’t done a lot more than making out and giving each other blow jobs while at the event, but every time, afterwards, he’d cradle me and be so fucking perfect and sweet. I started wondering how the other side of the coin worked. He had said he was a Sadist, that he didn’t play that way with anyone until he trusted them, which implied his Sadism went beyond a few spankings here and there—and it was confirmed by his fantasies involvingme developing bruises. But weren’t the two types of Domination counterintuitive? How could he be that caring and nauseatingly sweet at times, and hurt me until I cried on the next breath?
Hell, even back at Damian’s… My toes curled at the thought of it. He hadn’t hurt me in a traditional sense, but there had been little of the caring Daddy look as he pushed me over the edge and licked my tears away.
“I’m not sure,” he said. The admission was enough to bring me fully to the present. A Dom admitting they didn’t know something? I would’ve fanned myself if I wasn’t frozen on the spot. “I get different things out of them, and I seek them out for different reasons, too. Both make me feel in control and powerful, but that’s about it. Sadism is about seeing my own power and the trust someone puts in me, but also their strength to take what I’m doling out. Being a Daddy is about the trust, too, but it’s more about seeing their vulnerability.”
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a grimace. I could relate to the struggle of knowing you weren’t explaining yourself quite right, but I thought it made sense. If I wasn’t getting it all wrong just because, he was saying it was about getting the full picture of a sub, and that tracked with his intensity and everything else I knew of him.
Or maybe I just wanted someone that intense on my corner, someone to see every speck of me and stick around regardless.
Not that it would actually happen.
I could ignore the pit in my stomach and be selfish while it lasted, though.
“Should I return the question?” Daddy asked. He drummed his fingers against the wheel like he did every time before he found an excuse to park the truck in some service stop and get his hands on me. I could be observant when Ihad the proper motivation. “You’re Little and a masochist, too.”
Huh.
I hadn’t considered that.
“I like the sharp sensations and the physicality. They get me out of my head, and let’s face it, I probably watched too much porn or something before my time that crossed my wires all wrong, so that I get this turned on by it, but… When I’m strapped somewhere waiting for a Sadist to strike, there’s only lust and desire and whatever’s happening to my body. The days after are the best. It feels like I’m claimed, like I’m marked and I can’t escape it.” I squirmed, fingers digging into the peeling leather. There were more cars around us than there had been on our way in, and we hadn’t talked about what could happen here. “When I’m Little, it’s just about comfort and feeling safe and warm and… loved.”
Nope, I didn’t choke out on the last word. Nothing to see here, Sir.
“You’re good, darlin’.” Saúl—Daddy; I really didn’t know what was going on with all these scrambled thoughts—took one hand off the wheel to rest it on my thigh. Was it dangerously close to my cock, or was I just seeing things? Jury was still out. “I want to give you all that.”
“You do?” I took a sharp breath. “Um. Why? I mean, I’m a mess. Did I mention that? Like, I want it, so fucking badly, but…”
