parents. My mom didn’t really cook or . . . I had a strange childhood.”
“You seemed pretty normal in high school.”
“Did I? That’s good, I suppose. My parents weren’t weirdos or anything. They were just absorbed in their work. Focused. Maybe to the exclusion of anything else. I just think . . . Their minds work at an amazing pace, and they don’t know how to slow down. They’re brilliant, both of them.”
“That’s where you get it from, then.”
Her cheeks flushed. “No, I didn’t. They really are geniuses, my mother and my father. I didn’t inherit the genius IQ. A huge disappointment for them.” She put her fork down, wiped her mouth very carefully.
“That must have been a difficult environment to grow up in.” She looked at him. Looking to see if he pitied her, he thought. He didn’t. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”
“No. It’s okay. I don’t mind telling. Not like I usually do. I mean, this is not stuff I normally talk about . . . God, I don’t know what I mean.”
He put down his fork. “Kara, last night was your first experience with pain play. Sometimes that can open a person up. It happens a lot. You might feel more vulnerable today. It can make you connect with old issues. Some people even cry.”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that for me. I don’t feel bad or scared. I just feel . . . relieved. Released. As if I’ve let something go. That opening up, I guess. It’s making me feel lighter. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. It does. I’m glad you’re feeling good about it. Because that means you’ll probably want to do it again.” He grinned at her, and she smiled back. Gorgeous smile. “But let me know if that changes.”
“I will.”
Kara still didn’t know why she’d started to tell Dante about her parents, her childhood. It wasn’t like her. Not with a guy. And especially not after Jake. Opening up with him had chased him away. Of course, the very thing that Jake had judged her for, Dante was obviously into. Still, the emotional stuff was different. That was the kind of thing she’d talk to Lucie—her best friend—about, but not to a man.
“Dante . . . I’m sorry.”
He set his coffee mug down. “For what?”
“For going on about my history with my parents. My issues with them. I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to hear. I’m sorry I’m being such a girl.”
He grinned. His dimples were back, making her want to reach out and touch them. “I like that you’re a girl.”
“But it’s not me. We really don’t have to do this post-sex discussion stuff. This getting-to-know-each-other thing. This can be just sex. I’m fine with that.”
“Okay.” He was looking wary, as if he didn’t quite believe her.
“Really, Dante.”
He nodded. “Okay. But I’m good with the talking. It’s part of being a good dominant, if nothing else. Even if it’s just a little spanking, nothing too hard-core. It helps me to know how your head works. How you might respond to different things.”
“So this stuff, what we’re doing . . .”
“BDSM play,” he finished for her.
“Yes. Some of it is psychological? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Most of it is psychological.” He chewed the last bite of his pancakes. “Think about it. That sense of release. Of relief. I haven’t seen you for years, but just talking to you for a few minutes I can see that you’re probably very much in control in your everyday life. Confident. Competent. Someone who handles everything. The person others come to for advice, or when something needs to get done. Am I correct?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Giving yourself over to me is a natural outlet for you. Not only giving yourself over to me, but to the process. You don’t have to make any decisions. You don’t have to do anything. You just lie back and take it all in. You seemed to get that almost immediately. Which says to me that you’ve really needed it.”
“Maybe.”
“You seemed pretty normal in high school.”
“Did I? That’s good, I suppose. My parents weren’t weirdos or anything. They were just absorbed in their work. Focused. Maybe to the exclusion of anything else. I just think . . . Their minds work at an amazing pace, and they don’t know how to slow down. They’re brilliant, both of them.”
“That’s where you get it from, then.”
Her cheeks flushed. “No, I didn’t. They really are geniuses, my mother and my father. I didn’t inherit the genius IQ. A huge disappointment for them.” She put her fork down, wiped her mouth very carefully.
“That must have been a difficult environment to grow up in.” She looked at him. Looking to see if he pitied her, he thought. He didn’t. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”
“No. It’s okay. I don’t mind telling. Not like I usually do. I mean, this is not stuff I normally talk about . . . God, I don’t know what I mean.”
He put down his fork. “Kara, last night was your first experience with pain play. Sometimes that can open a person up. It happens a lot. You might feel more vulnerable today. It can make you connect with old issues. Some people even cry.”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that for me. I don’t feel bad or scared. I just feel . . . relieved. Released. As if I’ve let something go. That opening up, I guess. It’s making me feel lighter. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. It does. I’m glad you’re feeling good about it. Because that means you’ll probably want to do it again.” He grinned at her, and she smiled back. Gorgeous smile. “But let me know if that changes.”
“I will.”
Kara still didn’t know why she’d started to tell Dante about her parents, her childhood. It wasn’t like her. Not with a guy. And especially not after Jake. Opening up with him had chased him away. Of course, the very thing that Jake had judged her for, Dante was obviously into. Still, the emotional stuff was different. That was the kind of thing she’d talk to Lucie—her best friend—about, but not to a man.
“Dante . . . I’m sorry.”
He set his coffee mug down. “For what?”
“For going on about my history with my parents. My issues with them. I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to hear. I’m sorry I’m being such a girl.”
He grinned. His dimples were back, making her want to reach out and touch them. “I like that you’re a girl.”
“But it’s not me. We really don’t have to do this post-sex discussion stuff. This getting-to-know-each-other thing. This can be just sex. I’m fine with that.”
“Okay.” He was looking wary, as if he didn’t quite believe her.
“Really, Dante.”
He nodded. “Okay. But I’m good with the talking. It’s part of being a good dominant, if nothing else. Even if it’s just a little spanking, nothing too hard-core. It helps me to know how your head works. How you might respond to different things.”
“So this stuff, what we’re doing . . .”
“BDSM play,” he finished for her.
“Yes. Some of it is psychological? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Most of it is psychological.” He chewed the last bite of his pancakes. “Think about it. That sense of release. Of relief. I haven’t seen you for years, but just talking to you for a few minutes I can see that you’re probably very much in control in your everyday life. Confident. Competent. Someone who handles everything. The person others come to for advice, or when something needs to get done. Am I correct?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Giving yourself over to me is a natural outlet for you. Not only giving yourself over to me, but to the process. You don’t have to make any decisions. You don’t have to do anything. You just lie back and take it all in. You seemed to get that almost immediately. Which says to me that you’ve really needed it.”
“Maybe.”
Similar Books
