Page 36 of Learn Your Limits
Questions like if the idea of being marked in some way appeals to me, if I would enjoy being tied up or restrained, and if I like pain with sex are just a few that stood out in my mind. As much as I want to skim over some of these questions, I don’t want to let Milo down by not doing what he asks of me. I get thefeeling that my answers actually matter to him, which makes me that much more curious.
Not just for his answers, but for mine as well. I’ve spent my entire life working toward being the person others expect me to be. I can’t say that I’ve ever taken the time to truly get to know myself outside of the parameters I’ve been forced into.
Will this test tell us if we’re compatible or not?
My stomach sinks at the idea, a knot forming as I sit up and refocus my attention on carefully reading over each one.
Just as I’m finishing up the last question, he steps out onto the porch with a platter full of whatever he’s made us for lunch, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Let me guess,” I tease, closing the book and holding it in my lap. “You were waiting until exactly an hour had passed.” I glance down at the book, tapping a few fingers against its cover. “I finished the questionnaire,” I murmur.
“An hour is an hour, Mr. Callahan. Not that I’m complaining about the view,” he says, setting the platter down on the wicker table in front of the swing. “But you could’ve taken a moment to get dressed. Aren’t you a bit chilly?”
If it weren’t for him, I probably would be cold. But sitting here for the past hour, reading about kinks and imagining the things that he and I could possibly do together, has kept me plenty warm enough. “I guess I was a little too distracted to notice,” I say, setting the book aside and standing from the swing. “Give me a minute, and I’ll go get dressed.” I quickly step around him and make my way to the bedroom. It doesn’t take me long to throw on a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved henley, deciding to skip putting on socks and shoes for now.
When I make it back out onto the porch, I find Milo sitting back on the swing with the book once again open in his lap, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table beside the platter.
My stomach flips with anticipation as I watch him trail his finger slowly down the questionnaire page. According to the book, my answers dictate that I’m primarily submissive but a little bit of a switch and equal parts exhibitionist and brat. I have to bite my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at that last one. I wasn’t even a little surprised when I saw that.
“Please eat, I’ll need some time to thoroughly read your answers.” He nods his chin toward the spread of bruschetta. “And here,” he says, handing me a folded piece of paper. “You may need some time to process mine as well.”
His results.
It feels weird to sit here and examine a list of each other’s supposed kinks, but I guess that’s exactly what we’re doing.
I reach forward and scoop some of the bacon and tomato mixture onto a piece of toasted bread before I sit back and look over his results. Seeing that he’s tested as primarily dominant has me chuckling to myself as my eyes scan over the page. He’s also tested for primal, brat tamer, and rigger. I don’t know what a rigger is, but the other two are fairly self-explanatory.
I’ve already been introduced to Milo the Brat Tamer, and I love pushing his buttons. It’s been little things so far, but seeing as he actually enjoys correcting my brat behavior, I might have to step it up in that department. Butterflies flutter in my stomach each time I tease him or give him a slight attitude about something. Seeing the way his gaze heats with lust and hearing his voice drop when he’stamingme always sets my body on fire.
I fold his results back up and set the paper between us. Reaching forward, I grab another piece of the bruschetta and pop it into my mouth as my gaze wanders over the expanse of wooded area stretched around the cabin. I glance over at Milo to find his eyes glued to my answers still, his brow furrowed slightly. Pulling in a deep breath, I lean forward and brace my forearms on my thighs, staring out over the autumn trees.
Milo tucks my results back into the book and sets it carefully on the table before he reaches over to lift his glass of wine. Right before the glass touches his lips, he turns to face me directly, his eyes equally intense and sparkling. “And the stars align.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Emiliano
The darkness of the evening starts to obscure the details of the forest surrounding the cabin as we settle in for the night. My poor cock has been half-hard since reading the results of Reid’s questionnaire earlier today. I could tell he was affected similarly; a delicious tension has been brewing between us all day, despite the more innocent activities we’ve shared since then.
An herbaceous scent lingers in the air from the soup we prepared for dinner, though our bowls are long empty and sitting in the drying rack. Reid is finishing the last of the cleanup, while I dig through a special bag that I packed in hopes of getting to use some of the items.
Once I’ve set the necessary items onto the nightstand and moved one of the sitting area chairs close to the edge of the bed, I call out for him to start our little lesson. “Reid?”
“Yeah?” he asks, appearing in the doorway. His arms fold over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the door.
Perching on the mattress, I motion to the seat’s cushion before me in invitation, my legs stretched and feet planted wide in front of the chair. “Sit, please.”
He raises a brow and moves out of the doorway. “Why does this feel like I’m about to be scolded?” he teases, dropping into the chair in front of me.
“Oh, I’m sure this will be much more pleasant than that.” Once he’s settled, I lean over to grab a small notebook and pen from the nightstand. I can see him follow my movements, but his eyes don’t land on the stationery; they fixate on the bottle of lube, a plug, and a bundled cord.
“Um...” His gaze flicks between the various items. “The lube and the plug, I get. But do I evenwantto know what that’s for?” he asks, nodding toward the item in question.
Instead of telling him outright, I place the notebook and pen in his hand before grabbing the item and holding it up between us. “I’m aware you may have some experience with anal play, but it works a bit differently with regular sessions and if you’re the one receiving.” Grabbing the wider end, I begin, “This part stretches to attach to any sink or shower.” Flipping the tubing, I show him the cylindrical silicone end that works like a thin dildo with a few holes at the top. “And this part goes inside of you, acting as a hose.”
His eyes flick between mine and the notebook in his hand. Swallowing hard, he asks, “Am I supposed to write this down?”
“Well, I suppose you could draw what you see, too.” My voice turns sultry with the idea, imagining Reid with a dirty little notebook containing notes from all our sessions. “Taking notes is generally a good idea when your professor is teaching you something new.”
