Page 82 of Cardinal

His amused chuckle only aggravated me, and the temptation to snatch the stapler off his desk and throw it at him seemed fun to give in. "You didn't have to sit across from me like that." He mused, scooting back from his desk and patting his lap. "Come get comfortable." The shit-eating grin on his face made me glare at him.

Cheeky bastard.

Grumbling under my breath, I shove myself out of my seat and drag myself over to him, plopping myself down into his lap and crossing my arms. "I don't know how to start talking about this with you," I admitted begrudgingly.

Slinging an arm across my waist, he leaned back in his seat and propped an elbow up on the armrest of his chair, resting his chin on a closed fist. Pensively, he stared at me momentarily, making me more anxious about our conversation. "When you think about this fantasy, what do you usually imagine? How does the scene play out?" He was genuinely curious and serious with his question, not one bit ridiculing.

"Uhh…" Stalling, I took a profound interest in his forearm, poking and prodding at it with my fingers. "I… Well…" How did one go about telling their boyfriend how they imagined the ways he would sexually assault them? Without sounding crazy.

Gulping, I gripped his forearm to release some of the anxious energy from me. "I guess the common one that usually pops up is you getting fed up with me holding back and dragging me to our room kicking and screaming." My voice dragged out into an awkward pause as I recollected my scattered nerves. "Another would be us going to bed, and you want sex, but I don't want to, and you just take it anyway." Then, the one I dreaded somewhat. "The only other one that likes to pop up in my mind is you bringing me home one night after you've 'bought' me and take me because I'm your property now."

Okay, maybe I was a little fucked up in the head after hearing myself say all of that out loud, especially that last one. The only reason why the last fantasy appealed to me was the aspect of a do-over, as fucked up as that sounded. The others were whacked up in their own way, or at least the reasoning behind them was.

I wanted Luciano to take me and treat me like I was nothing to him. I wanted to please him by letting him use me as he saw fit and whenever he wanted. Yeah, very fucked up of me to think about, given everything I've been through. Although, the crazier part of it all was how I wanted to be independent and strong in my own right but wanted my man to force control over me. I mean, I understood the psychology and shit behind it after doing some research to see if I belonged in a mental ward, but it still felt weird.

"Do you see this being a one-off thing with us?" At least Luciano was being kind and thoughtful about this. I doubted he would ridicule me, but the fear naturally lingered.

Tapping my lip in thought, I bobbed my head around before looking at Luciano with unsure eyes. "Yes? I figured it'd be a one-and-done with us to get it out of my system and reset my psyche… But… I don't know…" The thought of doing something like this again felt so wrong yet so exciting. On the other hand, I don't even know how I'd take this first one.

Nodding with a soft hum, Luciano smiled softly at me as he moved his hand up to cup my face gently. "We'll take it one step at a time before we decide anything. Finish one scene before thinking about the next." He decided for us, much to my pleasure, because I sure as hell wasn't gonna make a decision.

"Anything absolutely off limits? Besides the list we've come up with already at the start of this relationship." His question was met with a small 'no' and a shake of my head. "And you know the scene doesn't stop unless one of us says the safe-word or gesture?"

A small 'yes' and nod of my head followed by a pensive silence before I broke it. "Are you going to be fine with me struggling against you? As in kicking, punching, slapping, biting, spitting, and scratching." I doubt I could actually hurt him unless I went for the family jewels.

Stifling a laugh, he pinched my face between his fingers and gave it a cute little shake. "You do realize I fight people my size and bigger, right?" He mused with a chuckle. "Don't worry, whatever you plan on throwing at me, go for it." He replied with a sure smile.

A calm silence fell upon us as we looked at each other thoughtfully. Then, something in Luciano's eyes changed, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. "What are you thinking of in that empty noggin of yours?" I did not like that mischievous glimmer in his eyes one bit.

"A suggestion, and you are more than free to say no to it." He started with a hopeful smile. "What do you say to a scene where I drag you out of bed, make you wear a lovely dress of my choosing, drag you down to one of the many clubs The Syndicate owns, make you sign our marriage papers before taking your ass back to our home where I will take you how I please?"

With my wary eyes still glaring softly at him, I thought about the presented scene, letting it play out in my mind. "The papers aren't real… Right? I know I said I would marry you, but not this instant." I wanted to trust Luciano not to pull some dirty trick like that, but after what happened, I had a right to be wary.

"Yes, fake papers. Lord, you really think I'd pull one over your eyes like that? You deserve so much more than some sham like that. When we're both ready, I will get on my knees and make you cry from all the sappiness." He assured me with a chuckle and smile before pinching my cheek softly. "I have every intention of making you Mrs. Agosti officially someday, but not until you are ready."

"Then I guess I would be fine with that kind of scene." Worse comes to worse, I had our safe-word. "Well, I put it all out there, and we have added your little scene. So, whenever you are ready or want to do it, go for it." He should already know what days to avoid because of my menstrual cycle—all he had to do was go count my patches.

"I know it's on your gray area list, but just making sure, are you fine with me slapping you? I won't punch or kick you, just roughhouse you a lot and slap you a bit." He didn't sound too comfortable with the question, probably because it went against how he was as a person. Violent or not, he's never raised his hand against a woman from what he's told me—said his parents raised him better and would beat his ass if they ever found out.

Confidently, I assured him with a smile and firm nod. "Yes, I trust you to not truly harm me." He wasn't going to beat me or anything. There was a limit, and he knew it.

Shifting and turning around to straddle his lap, I reached up and nestled his face into my hands. "Are you fine with this, though? Your feelings and thoughts matter just as much as mine." It wasn't a take-and-take relationship, Dom and sub or not. The Dom's comfort and feelings should be taken into account just as much as the sub's from what I've learned.

"In theory, yes. When I think about acting it all out, I am fine with it, but performing it in real life can only be answered in the moment." Looks like we were in the same boat then—good.

Leaning up, I pressed my lips against him in a deep, breath-taking kiss. Then, when I broke the kiss, I locked my eyes with his.

"I love you, and I trust you."

Maybe I should have set a timeframe or given Luciano a list of dates because the anticipation was killing me.

Two fucking weeks and nothing.

Like, I get it; I wasn't supposed to see it coming and whatnot, but come on!

I guess I could cut him some slack, though. Luciano has been busy with the others, basically raiding the city nearly every other night. As much as I wanted him to throw me down and dick me down good, control over the city took precedence. After all, no city meant no business for The Syndicate, which meant the streets for Luciano and me. Well, maybe not the streets because Luciano had billions stashed away. If somehow he lost all his money, I could always hack some stupid sap and drain them for all they got.

Bored out of my mind, I marched myself over to the couch in my office slash gaming room and plopped down face-first with a grunt. Displeased and irritated, I grabbed a throw pillow, shoved my face into it, and let out a muffled groaning scream of sorts into it.

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