Page 95 of Royal Sons MC

“Hey, we’re getting ready to head that way, but Traeger thought we should call first in case you two were busy or something.” Tiana laughed.

Ayesha closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Can you stop at the clubhouse to see if they have ginger ale? My stomach is a little upset.” Which wasn’t a total lie. Thinking of her sister walking in on them was enough to make her nauseous.

“I appreciate that. Yeah, take your time. A huh. Fuck off,” King muttered before hanging up.

He put the phone back on the nightstand, glaring back at Ayesha. “I ain’t gonna be sneaking around to be with you,” he said.

She held her phone against her chest, seeing the resolve in his fierce expression. She didn’t want to hide whatever they had, either. Honestly, she wanted to be upfront with them—whatever they had. Hell, she wanted him to wear a big ole' sign proclaiming him her property. Her hand went to her mouth before the laugh could escape.

King took her hand away. “What were you thinking, and remember my rules?”

“Shit. That’s not fair. Can’t I have inner thoughts without telling you them?” she pouted.

“Of course you can. However, if I ask you what they are, you’ll tell me. I’m waiting.” He got up and stood next to the bed.

Ayesha crossed her arms, feeling at a disadvantage. Her ass still smarted, but at the same time, it sent a pulse to her pussy. “Does that go both ways?” Why was she pushing him?

King leaned down, pulling her up onto her knees. “Ayesha, I’m the boss, not you. I’d never do anything that would harm you or tell you to do anything that would harm you. With that being said, some things don’t go both ways. If I fuck up, you can bitch at me. You can get mad. Can you put me over your knee and spank my ass? Fuck no. When I ask you something that I want to know. You must tell me the truth and know I’ll always have your back. That trust goes both ways, baby.”

She could see she’d disappointed him, and that was the last thing she’d wanted. “I was thinking that I didn’t want to hide this either, whatever this is—well, I was just thinking you should wear a sign that declared you as mine. Not really, but you know. That was what I was thinking, in a joking way. Gah, that doesn’t even sound right, but in my head, it was what I was thinking, which is why I didn’t want to say it out loud. There, happy now?” Her voice wobbled at the end, but she could do nothing to stop it.

King took the phone from her hands and placed it next to his. “If we had time, I’d fuck you again.” He framed her face between his palms. “To answer your question, I’m very happy. And baby, I’ll let you claim me tonight when we go to the clubhouse. Trust me, not a soul there will have any doubt who belongs to whom by the time I take you home.” King covered her lips with his, devouring her in a kiss that melted every single resistance she had. Not that she had any, but he knew it.

He pulled back before she could ask for him to take her. “You better get dressed unless you want to shock the shit outta Tiana.” He bent and sucked a nipple into his mouth. “I can’t wait to see these wearing some jewelry.” He gave the same attention to the other breast.

She didn’t let his words make her wish for more. He said jewelry, not his, not a possessive statement. How long would he want her? How long would she want to be his? She schooled her features, so he didn’t demand she tell him what she was thinking, dropping her chin to her chest. “We better get dressed. Oh, I just thought of something. What do I call you? When we’re, you know?” She waved a hand between their naked bodies.

King shook his head, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “My name is King. I don’t need to be called Sir or Master to know I’m in charge. I know you’ve probably read that in your books, and yes, that’s how it can be in many Dominant/submissive relationships. Each one is different. We set our own rules, but essentially, the principles are the same. Safe, sane, and consensual. Get dressed, and we’ll talk at the same time.” King picked up her clothes and placed them on the bed before he got his own off the floor.

“Do you belong to a club solely for that?” she asked, wondering if he would want to take her to one, excited at the thought.

“I’ve gone to a few, but I don’t have a membership. Do you know what BDSM stands for, Ayesha?” He tugged his shirt over his head, waiting for her answer.

She licked her lips, trying to come up with the right words. “Bondage and sadomasochism?”

He pinched her chin between his fingers. “Do you know what that means?”

“Do they like to beat their partners?” Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip to keep it from dropping open.

Anger flashed across his face. “Bondage, Dominance, Sadism, and Masochism is BDSM. Bondage doesn’t always have to be about sex, and neither does discipline. However, both tend to end up with that being the outcome. That’s where dominance and submission come in. It’s the giving and accepting of control in a relationship. A power exchange, if you will. A contract is a record of understanding and agreeance for a power exchange dynamic between the parties involved. While there’s not one certain thing that has to be included in a contract, it’s always best to add relevant things between the people involved. And to answer your unspoken question, I've never had a contract because I've never had a woman I wanted one with.”

Her heart did a happy little thump at his admission of never having another woman as his. Ayesha refused to overthink the why of that and focused on the rest of what he'd said. She knew about contracts since she read a lot of books about those types of relationships. Of course, they were romances, not real life.

“Why haven't you had a contract?” she asked. If it was expected, and she knew it was because she’d googled it.

“I’ve never required one. I’ve gone to clubs, and I’ve had women who I fucked there who knew the score, but I never wanted one of my own. Finish dressing,” he told her as he sat down and put his socks on.

She hurried to comply, working over what he’d said in her mind. “How old are you?” she asked. The thought that he could be younger than her made her wince. Surely not.

“How old do you think I am?” He stood up and stretched.

“Please tell me you’re over thirty,” she muttered.

He held his hand out. “I’m over thirty. I’ll be thirty-four on my next birthday, and you’re twenty-seven years young. Come on, let’s head upstairs. I imagine Traeger has drug his feet hard enough that your sister is probably getting suspicious. Don’t forget to hold your stomach,” he warned.

There were still questions she wanted to ask, but with the firm set of his jaw, she knew he was done talking for the moment. She looked back toward the room he’d shown her. She tugged on his arm. “If you take me to that room, use those things on me...will you want a contract?”

“There will be more discussions, but trust me, you'll love every fucking thing I do to you, baby. Besides, you’ve got your safe word, and I would never do anything to hurt you. In my world, that word is your power.” He picked up both their phones, switching his from silent as he handed hers back.

---