A quiver of anticipation ran through her veins. Max wanted her? When did that happen? She couldn’t help blurting out the words, “Does that mean I get to see your playroom?” f*ck
, why had she just said that? The words seemed to tumble from her mouth. During her visits with Kirk, Max had never allowed either of them inside the playroom. The mysterious room where domination and submission took place both frightened and intrigued her. It had always been strictly off-limits. Wondering just what it was like had fuelled her fantasies for years.
He laughed and playfully tapped her nose with a finger. “No, the playroom is reserved for bad behavior that needs correction, and besides, I need to get to know a woman intimately, before I take her there.”
“Oh? I’m not a child, Max. I know what goes on in a D/s relationship.”
He raised a brow. “Really? You surprise me, Ella. I didn’t know you knew about such things.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Dom. You can find out just about anything on the Internet. Besides, Sara gave me an explicit book on the subject.” She’d keep him in suspense as to how much she really knew.
“It figures.” Max’s derisory tone said it all.
“You don’t like Bill and Sara. You don’t like Kevin, either. Why?”
“They’re on the fringes. They practice something I have no interest in.”
“Which is?”
“Humiliation. I’m not into humiliation. Just like I’m not into pain, for pain’s sake.”
“Then what are you into?”
“Total possession.”
Those two simple words sent a shiver down her spine. The way Max looked at her now, she was in no doubt what he meant. He wanted to consume a woman until he controlled everything about her. She saw by the look in his eyes that nothing short of complete ownership would satisfy him. It scared and excited her in equal measure.
“I see.”
He laughed again. “Don’t look so worried, Ella. I’m just a very sexual guy, but I’m not a monster. I have enormous self-control. I just thought it best to lay my cards on the table, so there can be no misunderstanding.”
She knew her panties were soaking wet. How did Max make this happen with just a look? She took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice her chest rapidly rising and falling. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate your honesty.” She guessed Max wouldn’t take advantage of her emotional fragility tonight. She couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, knowing that he wouldn’t make the first move. He’d laid down a marker though, a line in the sand so to speak. He was warning her what could happen, if she kept pressing.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s gone midnight. I don’t know about you, Ella, but I’m ready to turn in. I’ve been up since six this morning. I’ve had a long day. If you want to, you can come across to my room. I’ve already laid down the ground rules, so there can be no ambiguity. I promised I’d be there for you.”
Ella walked across to her room and looked at the nightdress she’d placed on her pillow earlier that evening. The tiny pink baby-doll nightie was made of a flimsy, see-through material. Apart from a blue silk gown, and a change of clothes for the morning, it was all she had. She sighed. After packing her bag that evening, she’d hardly thought she’d end up sharing a bed with the gorgeous Sicilian, Maximiliano D’Alesandro. Or did she? Her nightie was way too sexy. She smiled. Kismet came to mind—what will be, will be. Perhaps she and Max were always meant to be.
She’d always liked Max. He had an aura of power and sophistication that few other men seemed to possess. If he chose to, he’d keep her safe and secure from harm. His BDSM lifestyle had always intrigued her. So much so that she’d read everything she could lay her hands on. Not just the book that Sara had given her. The Internet was an unending source of information. As she understood it, a D/s relationship epitomized control. But who controlled whom? Was it the dominant that demanded the complete acquiescence of his slave? Or perhaps, the submissive was the real winner in the power play struggle. It was the submissive, after all, who got to enjoy all the delicious, wicked things her dominant did to her body, without any form of guilt.