She took refuge in silence. Fair enough. She might not know yet.
“Should my safeword be long, so there’s no confusion?” Kate finally asked.
“It should be short and easy to remember. Something most people wouldn’t say in context.”
“Wombat?”
Banner chuckled. “Wombat? Will you remember that?”
“Yes, will you?”
“If you say any odd words while you’re with me, I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’ve had partners forget their safewords before and yell things like ‘tuna’ ‘cardigan’ ‘matchbox’ ‘ukulele.’ It gets the point across even if you don’t hit the right word.”
She laughed, a true, beautiful sound that thrilled the ear.
“Are you ready to start?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He quelled a shudder.
“Call me Banner for now, okay? You’re not mine, and every time you call me that it makes me a little crazy.”
“Crazy how?” Her lips parted, and he wished he could show her just how crazy.
“For a moment I forget you’re not mine, and I don’t think you want that.”
Kate nervously licked her dry lips. “Okay . . . Banner.” From her mouth, his name sounded oddly like a not-so-subtle Sir.
He threw a blanket on the floor in front of him. “Kneel there. We’ll see what you need to work on in terms of posture.”
Without hesitation, she folded herself into an attractive kneel on the small blanket. Her affect was a mixture of pride and self-consciousness. The graceful line of her neck begged for a collar.
“Good. Most Dominants will prefer you to kneel with your knees open and your hands turned upward on your thighs.”
“What do you prefer?”
“Knees open, unless there’s company. Hands palms down on the submissive’s thighs. I find it more aesthetically pleasing.”
Kate gathered her hair and put it behind her shoulder, then spread her knees and placed her hands palms down on her legs. The tilt of her head was challenging, so he took gentle hold of her jaw and waited until she went docile. Unable to resist, he let his fingertips brush her cheek before withdrawing his hand.
She blinked rapidly for a moment, then went very still. Her green eyes became soft and bottomless for a moment before regaining their usual alertness.
“Why did you hold my face like that?”
“You looked like you were challenging me. Some Doms love that, but many don’t. You have to learn what your Dom will tolerate and work within those limits.” He rhythmically rubbed a thumb over her chin, just to see if it would work again. Kate’s eyes went dreamy and she relaxed into the pose. It was like a magic button. He smiled. “Likewise, if a Dominant cares deeply for you, he might adjust what he expects from you in small ways.”
He slid his hand down to caress the side of her neck. The scoop neckline of her T-shirt tempted him to trace a finger over her collar bone. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing slowed. A small shiver took her, and the peace in her expression arrested his attention.
“You look very calm, Kate,” he whispered, dragging the tip of his finger over the softness of her exposed flesh. “Do you like how this feels?”
“Yes, Banner,” she breathed.
“When you talk to Doms, you have to try to remember this feeling. This is what you want from them. If you stay focused on this headspace, you might find yourself less tempted to scare them off.”
The spell broke, and her eyelids snapped open. Her glare was eloquent. “So I always need to walk around feeling all dopey and stupid? If a Dom wants that from me, he needs to work for it. I’m not just going to automatically become a mindless sex doll every time a Dom ambles by, on the off chance he can get me into that headspace.”
Before he realized what he was doing, he’d buried his fist in her hair. She gasped but didn’t try to get away.
“Did I say you had to be a mindless sex doll?” he growled. “I said you need to remember what you like, so that you don’t lose track of what you’re after.”
Kate’s eyes had lost focus again, and she angled her face toward his as though she wanted him to kiss her. How was he supposed to teach her anything from an objective standpoint if she was accidentally pushing all of his buttons? He tightened his fist in her hair, and she moaned.
Fuck objective.
He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “If you keep challenging a Dom, eventually, you’ll get more than you bargained for. I’m supposed to be teaching you things, not touching you. How are you going to learn if your sex drive keeps taking over?”
Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips against Kate’s. Soft, sensual . . . not that he’d forgotten the last time. She whined and tried to deepen the kiss, but he held her back by the hair and lightly traced her lips with his tongue. When he was ready, he kissed her, still restraining her by the hair. Her lips yielded under his. The nervous way she kissed him back, her tongue shyly meeting his, pushed him further into Dom space. He adjusted his grip in her hair, and she whimpered into his mouth. Would it be so wrong to throw her to her back and see just how willing she was?
He broke the kiss off when he chose to, sat back in his chair slightly, and allowed her to inch closer until she was between his knees, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Please.” The word was so quiet he thought for a moment that he’d imagined it.
“Please what, Kate?”
“Please show me what it’s like with you. Just once.” She was in a subby headspace, maybe for the first time in her life, and although he ached to have her, he wondered if it was the wrong thing to do.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that.” He chuckled regretfully.
She pressed her cheek to his knee but didn’t look away. “Please, Sir. I’ll do what you want. I’ll be good.”
Sir? Fuck, that word from her lips, and her meaning it, shot straight to his cock. He untangled his gaze from hers and his hand from her long silky hair. Her sound of disappointment was adorable.
“Fine. You want to play with me, little girl?”
She seemed aware then, but more amused than worried. Had the submissiveness been real, or a ruse? Was this just about getting him into bed? God, this girl was messing with his instincts.
“I have a safeword if I can’t handle it.”
He’d have to pay close attention to make sure he didn’t push her too far—safewords only worked if you remembered to use them.
“Strip.”
Kate’s jaw dropped for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “Just like that?”
“What do you expect, dinner and a movie? You came here to see what submission was like and to have your little D/s adventure. I’m not going to play some sort of game where we pretend we don’t know what you want.”
His tone seemed to take her aback, but he wasn’t one to mince words. If she was just there to get laid he wouldn’t waste his time.
“I didn’t come here just to put a Dom notch in my belt.” Her face was scarlet. “I just—I’m a curious person. Janine has told me what Chris is like with her behind closed doors, and I was just wondering how the Master/slave dynamic was different.” She shifted where she knelt, and he wondered if her knees were getting sore.
“Labels are labels. They mean different things to different people.” He rubbed his hand over the leather of the chair’s arm, wishing he dared to touch her again. They had to get this sorted out first. “Usually the Master/slave dynamic is deep—committed—and there’s a strong emotional bond. Often it’s twenty-four-seven. For the most part, slaves submit more fully to their Masters, but I’ve met couples that identify as Dom/sub that fit that description, and Masters with slaves where they’re not planning to stay together past training.”
“So the differences between Dom/sub and Master/slave are nothing or everything, depending on the relationship?”
He smiled grimly. “Exactly.”
“But clearly, to you, there’s a big difference in the intensity of the bond and the level of obedience . . . and in the degree to which you expect to be worshipped?” The light sarcasm implied that she was teasing rather than judging.
The smooth skin of her vulnerable throat was distracting. “Yes. As well as in the degree to which I cherish the woman who wears my collar.”
Kate pressed her lips together and bit them. Was she going to laugh off the order or conveniently forget he’d issued it?
“Is there something bothering you?”
“Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You commanded me to take my clothes off, but I don’t know if you actually want me to or if you were just showing me I’m not as ready to try things out as I think I am.” She was watching him, trying to read his expression, which he was keeping purposely impassive. “And plus, if I take my clothes off does that make me a slut? We just met a few days ago.”
“When slaves are given a command, they obey. It’s not up to the slave to second-guess her Master; it’s only her responsibility to comply.”
“So it makes me a good girl, not a slut?”
“My good girl does slutty things when I tell her to. In return, the responsibility for that decision is mine.”