Page 63 of T is for…

“You feel trapped.”

His brows rose in surprise before lowering in a contemplative expression. “Trapped. I guess you are. You can’t just go out to a club and find someone to scene with. That would be cheating, unless you’d pre-arranged an open relationship, or an impact-play only scene or something like that.”

“A relationship with BDSM on the side…I think you either have to start out that way—hi, I’d like to be romantically and sexually involved with you, but once a month I’m going to meet up with someone who will tie me up and paddle my ass.”

“Not something I would have tried at the start of a relationship in my twenties. Or even early thirties,” Nathan conceded.

“The other option is that at some point, you have to have a conversation with your partner. A conversation that reduces down to ‘you can’t satisfy my needs.’” Tara shifted restlessly. “If you tried to get your partner on board with your kink, like I did with Clark, then if at a later point you negotiate for some level of open relationship so you can have a BDSM partner too, you’re explicitly telling your romantic partner that they tried and failed to satisfy you.

“If you instead spring the I-need-a-BDSM-partner issue on them months or years into the relationship, without first telling them about your need, it shows you didn’t trust them enough to be honest about your sexual needs. And you didn’t think them capable of meeting your needs, because you weren’t even willing to let them try.”

“It’s hard,” he agreed. “And you’ve thought it through more than I have, all the variables and outcomes.” He pressed his hand harder against her cheek, not enough to turn her head, but it grounded their contact—like planting your feet and bracing against an ocean wave. “I want to know what happened that weekend with Clark.”

She let the rumble of his words soothe her. Took comfort in his touch before answering. “What happened that weekend was…it was good.”

Nathan’s brows rose, and she quirked her lips in a wry smile.

“He took control. Really took control. Spanked me like he meant it. Did some stuff I hadn’t explicitly asked him to do.”

Nathan stiffened. “Did he hurt you? Hit a hard limit?”

“No, no, I liked it. It was nice to be surprised. But the problem was, I hadn’t really been submissive with him before that weekend.”

Nathan’s hand slid back into her hair, cupping her head, his gaze lowering for a moment as he processed what she’d said. Then he grimaced. “Shit.”

“See where this is going?”

“You went truly submissive. Subspace.”

Tara grimaced a little at the term, but nodded. “I immersed myself in the power exchange.”

Nathan opened his mouth, but she put one finger over his lips.

He settled, absently kissing her finger while his gaze stayed intent on hers, his hand cradling her head in a way that was both protective and possessive.

“It was the best sex we’d had, not only kinky but decidedly D/s. I slept naked, which I never do. After sex I usually put on PJs. But I went to sleep naked, submissive, and aroused, and woke up the same way.”

“No PJs?” Nathan lifted the sheets just enough to peer at her naked tits.

She smacked the covers down. “Don’t let in the cold air.”

He grinned, then hauled her against him. Sparks of sensation lit up when her still-tender nipples brushed his chest, and again when he grabbed her ass to pull her into the position he wanted. Only when they were once more settled with him on his back, her tucked up against him, did she continue. The covers were pulled up to her neck and held in place by his heavy hand resting between her shoulder blades. It was warm and safe here.

“Normally, I hit a point where I need out of the scene. Maybe I’m sexed out, or my body’s had enough. Or I can’t be in the power exchange anymore.”

Nathan rumbled his understanding.

“But that time... We started Friday night, and Sunday morning I was still submissive and needy.”

It was easier to admit this when Nathan wasn’t looking at her. She didn’t want him to see the remembered embarrassment that tinged her cheeks. “Clark was sitting with his back against the headboard. We’d just had sex, so he was soft, which was fine of course, but I was still turned on. I was straddling one of his legs, rubbing my pussy against his thigh as we made out. He wasn’t doing anything else, and after a while he stopped kissing me, but I was happy to just bury my face in his neck. He wasn’t touching me anywhere but holding my hips.”

Her cheeks were hot with remember embarrassment. How had she not noticed his disinterest body language?

“I thought it was part of the scene—him making me hump his leg to come, like a needy slut.”

Tara tipped her head to meet Nathan’s gaze, unsurprised to find he was looking at her. Again, they were so close it was hard to focus on his face, but she didn’t want to put distance between them.

“I was at the point where I was calling myself a needy slut. I think I even said it out loud. ‘I’m your needy slut.’” Tara grimaced at the memory, tucking her chin. His arm tightened around her, but he didn’t say anything.

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