Page 42 of Snow Bound

“Anything pee related is a hard limit,” Anna declared. “I am firm on that.”

“Well, there you go, you’ve got a starting point.”

“How is this my life?” Anna wondered. “Saturday I was crying into my scrambled eggs, and now I’m worrying about some guy watching me pee.”

“Maybe you should send Kimberly a thank you card.”

Anna snorted. “That’s going too far, don’t you think?”

“Probably. All right, I have to get back to my boring life, which is full of depositions and incompetent lawyers and sadly lacking in orgasms delivered by a magic peen. Which is not a real thing, by the way.”

Anna grinned. “Evidence to the contrary, counselor.”

“Shut up. Go fill out your list, and let me know if you do anything really fun, like priest/nun roleplay.”

Anna grimaced. “As a survivor of Catholic school, I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Too bad. It can get pretty hot with all the ‘thy rod and thy staff’ talk.”

“Ew.”

“Don’t judge me.” Lola admonished. “Have fun. Oh, and pass on a message for me, would you?”

“To Grant?” Anna blinked in surprise. “What?”

“If he fucks you up, I’ll kick his balls—and his non-magical peen—into his throat.”

Anna rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Chuckling, Anna set her phone aside and picked up her book, settling back in to read. She’d only gotten half a page in when the musical chime of her email alert had her reaching for her phone again and clicking the app. An email from an Odyssey address sat at the top of the page, the subject line “Anna’s List”.

“No pee,” she muttered to herself, and clicked to open it.

By the time she made her way downstairs for dinner, she’d gone over the list twice and was confident that it was as accurate as she could make it. She’d been surprised to find a couple of things had changed since she’d first filled it out—for example, she was no longer interested in finding out more about fire play. She grimaced, remembering the first such scene she’d seen at the club. The Dom had taken all proper precautions and the submissive had been perfectly fine, but seeing someone literally set on fire freaked her the fuck out, and she no longer had any interest in being a human torch.

She wandered into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine, then carried it to the living room. She stoked the fire, adding fresh wood from the neat stack on the hearth, then stretched out on the sofa to see if she could find something silly to watch while she waited for Grant to get back with the pizza.

The Fall Guy was playing on one of the streaming services, and that suited her mood. She cued it up, then found her mind wandering to where it had been most of the day—Grant.

Playing with him had been everything she’d hoped for on that first meeting—though there had been way more clit slapping than she’d anticipated. But she wasn’t mad about it. No, she thought, wiggling a little as the clit in question throbbed at the memory. She wasn’t mad about it at all.

She was a little mad there’d been no bondage. She liked ropes, liked tugging and pulling against restraints, even though she knew she couldn’t get out—maybe especially knowing that. The verbal restraint had been more frustrating, which was why he’d done it, the sneaky bastard.

He had a definite sadistic streak, and while that had been a surprise, she’d been just as surprised at how much she liked it. She wouldn’t have had “play with a sadist” on her BDSM Bingo card, but once again, she wasn’t mad about it. He wouldn’t let her get away with anything, and while that was a little scary—okay, it was a lot scary—it was exciting, too. Like she might finally get to see how far she could go with this BDSM stuff.

He had a sense of humor, though, and that was no small thing. Sass was her love language, and she tended to crack jokes when she was uncomfortable, so a humorless Dom wouldn’t suit her at all. And he respected her boundaries, she mused, remembering how she’d panicked when he’d put his hand on her neck. He’d stopped immediately to soothe and explain, and that had gone a long way toward forging trust.

She felt a connection with him, even beyond the physical. She felt as though she could be herself with him, and since that hadn’t happened during any of her visits to Odyssey, that alone was enough to make her want to do this.

And the four orgasms didn’t hurt.

The thought made her clit pulse again. “Down, girl,” she muttered just as footsteps sounded on the wood behind her.

“What?” Grant said

---