Dirty Bad Secrets(68)
“She didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what she means, believe me. Flighty and whimsical, just like I told you.” I ran my fingers over my jaw, raking stubble. I was tired and grotty, and I ached. My jaw felt like it’d taken a fist, all down to Faye’s stupid gag games, and sleeping on that gurney had twisted my bloody back. I sighed in frustration. “Basically, Faye wants me to be her pussy boy?”
“No!” Topaz practically squeaked in horror. “That isn’t it!”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
“She wants equality. She wants genuine connection. She doesn’t want you to be her pussy boy. She just wants you to submit freely and honestly. She wants you to feel it. Like she does.”
“I feel it perfectly fucking fine, Topaz. That crazy bitch put teeth marks on my arse. Believe me, I felt those.”
She fiddled with her lip ring. “That isn’t what I mean and you know it.”
“Actually, no, I don’t know it. Faye wants to play stupid power games and I’ve been playing along. If she wants sissy-boy tears and snivelling and begging she’s looking in the wrong place. That’s not me.”
“I don’t think she wants that.” She fluttered her hands in front of her trying to find the words. “She wants a dominant man who knows when to kneel. A man who can lead, but can also follow. She wants you to bend in the same way that she does for you!”
“She wants a submissive, that’s what you’re saying. She wants me to be her little slave boy. Oh, Mistress Faye, I am not worthy. Please spank my naughty bottom.”
“Now you’re just being sarcastic.” She folded her arms.
“I’m no submissive, Topaz. I’m happy to play games for spice and variety. I’m happy to humour the coin toss in the spirit of Explicit and our generally fucked-up sexual dynamic, but I do have fucking limits. If she wants someone to kiss her feet and call her Mistress, she’ll have to fucking want.”
She looked so sad, pitiful. “I don’t think she wants to go back to Italy, Mr Morgan. She seems on the edge, looking for a port in a storm. I think she needs this.”
“I’ll be her port in a fucking storm. That doesn’t require me to take a fucking strap-on up my ass or beg for mercy like a little pussy.” Frustration was building, a headache bursting behind my eyes. “Faye’s the fucking submissive, Topaz. She just doesn’t want to admit our dynamic works best when she lets me take charge. She’s too much of a whiner, too much of a princess. We’d both be a lot happier if she gave up on this bossy Faye act and let me put her over my knee every morning. Fuck equality, what she needs is discipline.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
“Even if that’s true, what difference does it make? She wants what she wants.”
“She can want on.” I smacked my palms on the bar top. “I’m done with her demanding shit, she’s exhausting.” Topaz’s expression was so easy to read, and it infuriated me. Sure you are. That’s what she was thinking. One stupid fucking night in shackles and she thought she had me sussed. “I mean it, Topaz. I’m fucking done with it.”
“Yes, Mr Morgan,” she sighed.
“You can tell Faye to come straight to the office when she gets back. I think it’s about time we had a little chat.”
***
Faye
I was drenched, chilled to the bone. My messy bun had collapsed into a soggy mess, despite my best efforts, and my legs were aching from Andy’s over-exuberant bondage. I was stressed, and scared, and ready to bail, and yet I was still there. Still in the club, still standing up to face him in his office.
“Topaz said you wanted to see me.”
He propped himself on the edge of his desk, crossed his ankles like it was the most casual conversation in the world. And yet, it wasn’t. He was prickly and brooding. He looked as pissed off as I felt. “Get dried off, it can wait.”
“No.” I folded my arms. “Just spit it out. What haven’t I done this time?”
“Just about everything,” he said. “But that isn’t what we need to be chatting about.”
“What, then?” I laughed. “Are you still pissed that I tied you to a gurney? Did it embarrass you? Humiliate you? Poor Andy, diddums.”
“You aren’t helping my mood.” He ran his fingers through his hair, then linked them behind his neck. “What’s going on here, Faye? What is this?”
Oh fuck. The talk.
I shrugged. “We’re at work, it’s your week. What else do you need to know?”