Page 83 of Until I Own You

I lean my elbows on my table and clasp my hands, looking over at her in a dark and appraising way.

Bridget’s body shifts with my gaze. Her muscles go rigid, and she sits a little taller.

“When we are alone, I don’t want to talk about anyone but us, Bridget. Is that clear?”

Her cheeks flush. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

I swallow. As her Dom, I don’t owe her explanations on my rules. But I don’t want to hide things from her. In a strange way, I want her to understand me. “All the mentions of our life beyond our dynamic remind me of…perversion.”

Bridget’s eyes grow sad.

“I’ve already had to do the mental gymnastics as a younger man of not feeling ashamed of what I liked.”

Her brow furrows.

I nod. “You’re confused.”

“I am. I just can’t imagine you being ashamed,” she says in a soft voice I’d rather have right in my ear as my cock is inside her than across the table.

I knew her as an innocent young girl. I postured myself to be her intimidating older stepbrother to keep her away from me.

She wasn’t supposed to know anything about me. To keep everything safe and sanctified. But she needs to understand we all struggle at one point or another. Even Doms.

“In my first sexual encounters, all I wanted was to control, to dominate, to make sure everything went my way. But I had to yield to vanilla encounters. I knew what I wanted but didn’t know how to express it. Wasn’t finding the right kind of women to express myself with.”

The server comes over with the champagne, pouring the Dom Perignon into two glasses and then letting the bottle rest in an icy bucket tableside.

We freeze in our conversation, a beating heart between us.

The wonderful thing about servers at luxury establishments is that they make it a part of their job to be able to read a table. Our server disappears without trying to rush us to order our food, allowing us to pick up where we left off.

“Then, since I was old enough to try the Underground, I did. I watched scenes, much like you did. Only a few, though. Because I knew what I wanted. What I needed. And unlike you, I didn’t have the desire to wait for the perfect sub.” I let my eyes fall to the bubbles in my glass of champagne. “Didn’t have the restraint to wait for you.”

Bridget smiles.

I rest my forearms on the table and look her in the eye. “What I’m trying to say is, I have done my time feeling ashamed and when I’m with you, I don’t want to be reminded of them.” The people who won’t understand. Will never understand. “Clear?”

Bridget nods, eyes dipping low, the submission clear in her posture. “Clear.”

I take my glass of champagne off the table. “Another rule,” I change the subject with grateful ease. “You will always wait for me to do anything first. Except sit, of course. I will drink first, take my first bite of food.”

“Yes, Seth.”

I sip my champagne. Then, I look to her. She takes her glass, sips it too. A half-smile creeps onto my face, and I realize my pulse is racing.

I’ve exerted my dominance in the privacy of the Underground, but never out in the real world. Never thought I’d find someone I could do that with. And while I am keeping my composure, I am afraid I’ll fall into cracks here and there.

“And Bridget?”

“Yes, Seth.”

So good. So good for me. “If you break any rules out in public with me…” I let my words trail off and hang in the air.

Bridget squirms in her seat just a bit.

“I will keep track. And you can count on those punishments later.”

Her pupils dilate.

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