Page 53 of Interview with a Sadist
"You understand that as long as your desires don’t cause harm or trauma to anyone, then doing what you want isn’t wrong. I’ve watched you go from closed off, to curious, to open, to informed, to understanding, and tonight you’re at the final part—appreciation. I’ve witnessed a metamorphosis in you, and through each stage of it, you’ve only become more beautiful to me. The fact that you didn’t fuck with any of this before you met me makes it even better, because I know your feelings about it are genuine. You’re not trying to impress me. You justareimpressive. It’s been a gift to watch you change for the better, and I feel privileged to have experienced it with you.”
A flood of raw emotion washes over me as I realize this is the first time in my life I’ve ever felt acceptance like this. From the time I was a child, there has always been judgment hanging over me from either my family or friends. I’ve lived inside a box, and not only was I not allowed to break out of it, I wasn’t even allowed to question why I was in it, or acknowledge that there ever was a box. I was expected to sit inside my prison and feel grateful for its existence, because the box was supposed to be my guide to the perfect life of white picket fences and pristine kitchens for me to stand barefoot in, while I waited for my white-collar husband to come home from work. That was always supposed to be my future, and anything off that path was simply a distraction and wrong. What Iwantedwas wrong. What Ifeltwas wrong.Iwas wrong, and I never had anyone around to tell me different until I met Nolan. With him, I feel seen. He truly sees me for who I am, and he doesn’t judge me for it. He accepts me and welcomes me to new and open thoughts. He wants to watch me grow, and I never knew how good it could feel to be free to do it.
My thoughts swarm me, making me feel dazed and exhilarated, and before I can think better of it, I grab Nolan by the shirt and pull him into me. We kiss in front of the bar with music filling our ears, alcohol flowing through our veins, and freedom shrouding us like a protective blanket. We make out in front of everyone, and although I can feel the stares of those around us and I can hear the whooping and hollering of Ethan from behind the bar, Nolan is my only focus. Our tongues fall into a rhythmic groove that adds an immeasurable amount of fuel to the growing fire inside me, and the rest of the world washes away. I no longer see or hear them, I only feel Nolan, and I want to feel more than just a kiss.
When we pull away, my senses kick back in and the world returns like I’ve emerged from under water. The music of the club blares, but it’s nothing compared to the sound of my own heartbeat.
“Thank you,” I tell Nolan.
He frowns. “For what?”
“For accepting me,” I say, before giving him another peck on the lips.
He smiles. “That’s not something you have to thank me for, but it’s my pleasure.”
We lock eyes for a moment as my thoughts run wild. I just got here, but all I want is to be alone with him. I came out so I could blow off the steam of my shitty day, but I didn’t know that all I really needed was Nolan.
“I’m so glad I met you,” I tell him. “Now take me to your office.”
Nolan’s head tilts to the side. He heard me, but he wants to hear it again, and it’s obvious from the devilish grin on his face. “What?”
“Take me to your office … and fuck me … Sir,” I say for the very first time in my life, and my entire body reacts to it. I don’t know where it came from, and I have no idea why I say it, but it feels like saying the one word I was always meant to say.
I remember Nolan describing the encounters he’d had with the woman he called his Little One. Back then, I didn’t understand why anyone would want to call someone Sir, but I get it now.
It’s simple. He's not my boss in a company. This isn’t the military, and he’s not my strict father who asks me to say “Yes, Sir,” and “No, Sir.” But, he’s the man I want to give myself over to. Iwantto submit to him. I want him to have high expectations of my submission, and I want to reach them. I want to call him Sir because I want him to own it. I want him to own me. I want to be his—to be under his control and under his protection. I don’t have a kink for being a little girl, but I do want to submit to him wholly and completely—for him to be my guide, my savior, my tormentor, my punisher, my protector, my god. He is my Sir.
“Take me to your office,” I repeat as he pulls me closer until we’re centimeters apart. “And fuck me, Sir.”
Horns practically grow from Nolan’s head as he looks at me, his face darkening with a satisfied deviance that sends chills up my spine and wetness between my legs. His grip tightens around my waist, and I watch as he gives way to the sadist within him, letting him have free rein.
“You want to give yourself to me?” he asks in nearly a growl.
“Yes … Sir,” I reply, emphasizing the last word—the one I know he wants to hear most.
“You want me to own you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Are you mine?”
“Completely, Sir. Do with me as you please, just do itnow.”
Nolan’s grip tightens so much it hurts as he struggles to keep himself bound together. He’s ready to lose control, and I’m ready to let him.
“Say no more, Princess,” he says as he kisses me again, before turning toward the stairs. “Come with me.”
ChapterThirty-Two
Our worlds collide and explode when the door closes. Before the lights are even flipped on, Nolan has his mouth pressed against mine and my back pinned against the wall. He smothers me with his passion, kissing me lustfully as he holds my face in the palms of both his hands. The erotica in the room is turned all the way up until there’s no room left. Nolan locks the door and flicks the light switch behind me, but even when the lights come on, none of it matters. There is no desk, couch, or decor. There is only he and I, our bodies intertwined, our hearts beating in sync, and our desires to dive into our kinks as the driving force for it all.
“How is this possible?” Nolan asks, pulling my face away from his so he can look at me. “How’s it possible for you to be so perfect?”
Infatuation and craving roar to life in my chest, but I don’t know how to respond. How does one reply to such a question? I have no idea, but Nolan doesn’t give me time to answer anyway. He’s back on me in a flash, our tongues caressing each other until I pull away a second time.
“Give it to me,” I command. “You know what I crave. Please give it to me, Sir.”
“Tell me again that you’re mine,” Nolan says. “Say it again so I know you won’t leave once I hurt you.”
