Page 12 of Ctrl Me
His mouth opened a little, and he shivered. “That’s usually my line.”
“Works both ways, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It does. Very much.” He glanced over at the pan. “You need to check that?”
We separated, but Gabe didn’t move very far. Just waited while I moved the chicken around. “Probably needs fifteen or so minutes.” I put the cover back on. “Your turn.”
Gabe gave a small laugh. “For me, it’s all about trust.” He looked up, and our eyes met. I don’t think I could have turned away if I’d tried. The intensity of his expression, the passion, the honesty, bound me where I stood. “It’s a gift. An amazing gift. Even when someone lets me tie them up fully clothed at a party, they’re giving over so damn much trust. That I won’t hurt them. That I know what I’m doing.” He took a breath. Exhaled. “I love domination, control, bondage—nothing gets me higher than that. What more can anyone give you than themselves?”
“Their heart.” The answer came out of my mouth before my brain could stop it.
“Goes both ways,” Gabe whispered.
Oh God. Did he? Did I? Shit.
I opened my arms this time. But rather than walk into them, he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss that nearly made me crumple to my knees. Submit? Oh hell yes. I let him take my mouth, gave him my moan, and didn’t complain at all when he bit my bottom lip.
By the time he was done, he was practically holding me up. He leaned back and lifted an eyebrow. “Also, I don’t own a whip.”
“Thank God,” I breathed.
“Safeword?” He nipped my neck, and the scrape of his teeth against my jugular sent blood straight to my balls.
“Platypus.”
His laugh rumbled through my chest. “That’s different.”
“Banana is so overrated.”
“True.” Light danced in his eyes, but the glint wasn’t innocent at all. “You haven’t asked about punishment.”
Oh fuck. If not a flogging, then what? I mean, I had hopes. “Um . . .”
“Denial. CBT.”
Bingo. I breathed out. “I can handle that.”
Another rumble of laughter. “You say that now.”
Oh shit.“I’m all yours.”
He stepped back and took my hands in his. “Are you sure?”
Never been more sure, actually. Gabe was . . . well,Gabe. “Yes.”
“I expect you to listen.” He drew his fingers down the side of my neck. “Closely.”
“Of course.” He’d try to trip me up, I was sure. That was also part of Gabe. “If I don’t?”
His shrug was calculated and devilish. “I’m not unreasonable. First time, you’ll probably enjoy the punishment. But the next?” That devilish quirk to his lips widened. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy that.”
I tried not to groan. Failed.
Gabe looked over my shoulder. “What more do you need to do for dinner?”
“Not much. I have pasta, but it’s the really thin stuff. Two minutes in boiling water. Then it’s just putting the chicken and veggies on top.”
“Get the pasta and a pot out for me, then.”
