Page 92 of Rising Queen (Blood Empire 1)

“Understood.”

“I respect the Dom/Sub dynamic, but the complete practice... it’s just not me. I’m not a “by the books” kind of person, you know,” I grin.

“Oh, trust me, I know, and I wouldn't change you for the world,” he chuckles.

“Okay. So, I don't know what you know about all of that, but you won't find that here. Yes, I have the equipment and the toys. But that whole “traditional” dynamic is not what you're gonna get here.”

“But I'll still be your Pet and you my Mistress, right?” he questions.

“Yes,” I laugh. “I will still be in charge, as always. And I fully expect you to submit to me in every way. We will still have a safe word, and please, if anything I do becomes too much, use it. I’m very big on consent and this won't work unless you agree. I'm all for taking you to your limits and exploring this with you, but don't endure anything you can't handle just to please me. I want this to be a pleasurable experience for both of us. I won't be able to enjoy this if you're not.”

“I promise I'll use the safe word if it ever becomes too much,” he says seriously.

“When it comes to sex, I’m dark and dirty, Neo. I love pain, and I love causing it. It's a big fucking turn on for me to have that power over someone else. But I will never abuse it in this way,” I promise him.

“I'm okay with whatever you're okay with. You may not trust me. And I fully understand that, My Queen. We have a lot to do to earn that back, if we ever can, but I want you to know,Itrust you. I trust you with my body, completely. I know how big consent is for you, and I will always ask for yours and give you mine. I know there's a difference between the playing you do in the showrooms and what we will be doing here. Out there it’s torture to torture, to cause agony and to kill. In here, you torture to cause pleasurable pain. To push us both to our limits and into the oblivion of ecstasy,” he says, his gaze intense and locked on my face.

My heart flutters at his words, and my brain swims with all the warm, fuzzy feelings. He understands my needs. What I want. What I can and can't accept, and he’s okay with it. All of it. Fuck. Why does he have to be so fucking perfect for me? Pushing those feelings down, I stand up and start to stalk towards him with a smile that to anyone else would be deemed mental.

“Then let's begin, shall we?”

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