Page 37 of Mine

“He spanked me.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yes, but I like that. He only gives me as much as I can take.”

“I’m still not totally convinced.”

“I blew him, and he came all over my face.”

“Well, that’s obviously one of my favorite things ever. Who doesn’t like a load on their face?”

I chuckle because some things are universal, kink or not. “So hot. He spanked me a second time while I humped his legs until I came all over him. He got dressed and made me stay naked while he cooked dinner for me. I knelt on the floor, and he fed me and—”

“Wait. He fed you?” Interest and confusion war on his face.

“Right? Not something I thought about before, but it was almost as good as the sex. God, I can’t wait to meet up with him again.” I set my head on Reggie’s shoulder, and he doesn’t complain despite my basically using Marshall’s cum as a face mask.

“Was it weird? Because of who he is to you?”

“I can’t pretend it’s not a little weird. We talked about my dad, andthatis an experience I don’t want to repeat whilenaked. And for some reason, calling him Marsh doesn’t sit right. We decided if I use his name, it’ll be Marshall. I’ve used Marsh my whole life, so it helps… Like he’s someone different now or…not someone different, but it shows our relationship has evolved.”

Marsh is my dad’s best friend.

Marshall is the man I’m sleeping with.

“He says I’m not allowed to hook up with anyone except maybe you. I have to ask first because my orgasms are his.”

“Okay…my orgasms are mine, and I dare anyone to contradict that. You can’t jerk off?”

“No! And I might die. But knowing I can’t unless he gives me permission is like perma-edging. I think that’ll be hot too.”

Reggie pats my thigh. “Whatever you say, my friend. I’m glad you had fun, and I really hope Marshall’s load is the only thing that blows up in your face.”

We dissolve into laughter, then cuddle on the couch while watching a show. When I go to bed, I text Sir good night, and again, have an incredible night’s sleep.

*

Me: So…Marshall…Sir…Dom of mine…when do you think we’re going to fuck?

I hit Send before I can talk myself out of it. It’s a little bratty but also an honest question. We’ve both been tested and shared our results, agreeing to go raw when the deed finally happens. We’ve met up two more times, both similar to the first. They’re hands down the most fulfilling sexual—

No.

Not just sexual.

Emotional?

Mental?

Well, the best experiences I’ve ever had, but I can tell he’s holding back.

“JT! You have an order ready,” one of the waiters says. I shove my phone into my pocket, where it should have been, and go to get it.

I take the two plates to the table, setting them down in front of a man and a woman. “You’re going to love this.” They’ve let me play around with their order some and have the chef personalize it the way I like it. I always enjoy it when people allow me to do things like that.

“It looks delicious.” She takes a bite of the chicken while I’m watching, and I practically see her melt into the seat. “Holy crap. This is so good. Taste it.”

Her partner does, and he tells me he likes it too, which, ridiculously, makes me beam. I mean, it’s not as if I made it or anything.

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