Page 65 of Twisted Little Thing

"So?" I ask, arching my eyebrows impatiently.

"So?" she repeats, cocking her head.

I chuckle at her silly gesture. "If you want to know things, you will have to ask me, sweet Nicky."

She furls her eyebrows for a moment, probably not liking the fact that I called her sweet.

"All right," she says. "So, what happened to you and Sheila? And why are you so reluctant to talk about it?"

I nod. Straight to the point.

"You'll know why I have been reluctant once I tell you," I start. "But it may not be as surprising to you as to anybody else out there."

"How so?" she asks.

I place my elbows on the table and lean forward, piercing her down with an intense gaze.

"Because you know me," I say. "You know what I like. And you have grown closer to me within just a few meetings than anybody has in a long time."

"Since Sheila?" she challenges.

I shrug. "You may have even surpassed her."

Her eyes widen with surprise. "Oh."

"Sheila was not only my girlfriend," I continue. "She was my submissive, too. It's what I expect in a relationship. It's what I need."

"You're right," she throws in. "I am not surprised to hear that."

I smile. "Of course you're not."

"So? I am still waiting for the shocking revelation here."

My smile widens to a grin. She’s playing it cool, so typical.

"The problem was that she liked it, too – but she couldn't admit it. Not to herself and above all not to anyone else," I continue. "She was worried about her public image more than she was about our relationship. A lot more. It defined everything about her."

"So?" she interjects, still not getting where I’m going with this. "I still don't see the problem. What you do in the bedroom with your partner is nobody else's business. What's the big deal about keeping that part private like anybody else?"

My facial expression changes. I clear my throat and look at her with a stern expression. This is the crucial part, the part that may scare her away.

"I wouldn't let her," I say.

She frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

She is beginning to shift around on her chair, curious to see where this is going.

"I wanted to collar her," I say finally. "Collaring your submissive is a deep sign of commitment and devotion. Like a wedding ring. Maybe even more symbolic than a ring."

I take another pause, waiting for her reaction. Nicky looks at me through her innocent, wide eyes, tilting her head to the side.

"You wanted to put a collar on her? Like a dog?"

I shake my head.

"No, it resembles jewelry. It would have been subtle enough to appear like a normal silver necklace – but she would not have been able to take it off by herself. Ever."

"Oh..." she murmurs.

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