Page 41 of Lukas

Chapter Sixteen

The next sixweeks passed in a sensual haze for Reina. She and Lukas had opposite schedules—she worked during the day while a lot of his business was at night—but they compromised and juggled and found time to be together almost every day. Sometimes he came to her apartment, but mostly they spent their hours at his penthouse condo in the French Quarter.

Lukas had taken her in every position she’d ever known. And many, many more that had never occurred to her. She could hardly even recognize the sexual creature she’d become, especially yesterday when he’d taken her out to the private rooftop terrace of his condo and put her nipples in clamps once again.

Except, this time they’d been tightly attached to a ball-gag in her mouth. Her wrists had been fastened to the back of it on her head.

He’d proceeded to lie down on a sun lounger in broad daylight and had her ride him, facing away from him, reverse cowgirl style. That way he could pull her hair whenever he wanted and the movement yanked on her nipples. She’d been strictly instructed not to come until he did, which had proved impossible and had earned her a spanking afterwards, face down, ass up on the chair. She hadn’t even been able to brace herself since her wrists were shackled to the back of her head as he’d turned her ass red and she’d sobbed through the ball-gag, drool dripping down her cheek.

Lukas’s penthouse was pretty high, but it wasn’t the tallest building in the area. The thought that someone could’ve watched that entire scenario should’ve mortified her.

It hadn’t.

There were a lot of things they’d done that should’ve, but hadn’t.

A lot of things she’d held true about herself for a long time but didn’t anymore. Not only because of all the steamy sex but the conversations she’d had with Lukas, about needs, wants, and sexuality.

It had been hard to let go of a lot of her preconceived notions about sex.

She just hadn’t been able to stomach the fact that she could be turned on more by a slap on the pussy than a gentle kiss there. She had been mortified that when Lukas commanded her to do things—things that should be so humiliating, like crawling across his living room floor with his belt folded in her mouth, so he could whip her with it. Or holding her ass cheeks open for him while he explored there at his leisure. Or him tying her in positions that left her totally sprawled open for his viewing—had been more exciting than anything vanilla she’d ever done.

After the first few days of being with Lukas she’d been in such mental turmoil—enjoying what she thought was so wrong—that she’d been an absolute mess when she’d shown up at his house at the prearranged time.

Honestly, she’d expected him to fuck or spank her out of her funk, not really caring what was causing the dissonance in her head, if he even noticed it at all.

Not only had he, but he’d paused whatever he’d had planned, sat her down at the kitchen island—the same one, ironically, he’d fucked and spanked her on the day before—given her a glass of wine and made her spaghetti with clams and garlic sauce, one of his mother’s favorite recipes from her home country of Sicily.

He’d told her stories of visits there as a child and the trouble he and his brothers had gotten into at his grandparents’ vineyard. Not having any siblings of her own, she found the stories enthralling and charming.

Reina did something she’d never expected to do in the presence of Lukas Rinaldi—relax and laugh.

As she helped place what dishes could fit into the dishwasher and hand wash the rest—she would swear he’d used every pot he owned while making the sauce—the conversation took a turn she hadn’t been expecting.

He hung the towel over the dish rack. “If I told you I needed a woman to be wearing purple lingerie in order to truly enjoy sex—that I could have it without her wearing purple lingerie, but that it just wasn’t the same, I didn’t like it as much—what would you think?”

Purple lingerie? She’d never worn any purple, and he’d seemed to have liked her just fine. “Um, I don’t understand.”

“It’s just an example, princess. Go with it.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I would be going out tomorrow and buying purple lingerie.”

He took her towel and hung it too, then snagged an arm around her waist, dragging her up against him. “Would you think I was some sort of freak?”

“No. I’d just think you were into purple, and maybe wonder why you didn’t tell me before.”

Both his hands moved to her hips so he could hold her in place directly in front of him. “Exactly. Now, what if you were honest and admitted that in order to truly enjoy sex you need a little pain and domination—you can have sex without it, but it isn’t the same, you don’t like it as much—would that make you a freak?”

Sneaky bastard. She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“Why? Because purple lingerie is socially acceptable, but handcuffs and butt plugs aren’t?”

She couldn’t believe she could still blush even after all they’d done. “Well, yes!”

“But if it turns you on? If both parties involved are adults and want it?”

“But it’s weird. It’s just… abnormal.”

His hands slid up to cup her face. “You are too smart and tolerant to think that. If we were talking about anyone else besides you, you would encourage that person to do what they like. To explore. To not hold back. That no one gets to say what’s right or wrong for another person as long as it’s not hurting them or anybody else. You would never judge someone else as harshly as you are yourself.”

---