Relapse (Doctor Dom Volume 4) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella) by Tara Crescent

do,” he clarified. “But in the tone of it. We’ve played so far, and we’ve kept it relatively light in tone.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not doing a very good job explaining it. There’s been an element of fantasy about what we’ve done. That it is somehow not real.”
    “But now?” I asked.
    “We’ll still have plenty of vanilla sex,” he assured me. “I’m not going to go all Dom on you all the time. But when I step into that role, I won’t be messing around.”
    I gulped. “Can I take things off the table?”
    He looked a little surprised. “In what we do together? Of course you can. I’m really not doing a good job with explaining this…”
    “I think I understand,” I said. I really did. “When I dressed today, I was dressing for my Dom. It felt different. More real.”
    He smiled at me, warmth in his eyes. “That’s exactly it. Just to clarify again, this is still just about sex. I’m not looking to control anything else in your life.”
    I nodded. “I know. I wouldn’t have called you my Dom if that hadn’t finally clicked on some level in me.”
    “I appreciate that,” he said quietly. “If I’m doing something that seems to straddle that line for you, I’m assuming you’ll call me on it.”
    I grinned. “You can count on it,” I assured him. 
    “What do you want to take off the table?” he asked me.
    “Blood and needles,” I said promptly. Given our medical play, it was worth drawing a line at how far I wanted to go with it. The Internet was a scary place. I’d seen needles stuck in more places than I wanted to remember.
    He laughed. “Not a problem. Oddly, that would make me uncomfortable, it just seems too much like work.”
    I laughed as well. “Fair enough. I don’t want to be caned either. Or electricity.”
    “Again, not a problem. Caning is a skill I just don’t have, and I don’t understand enough about how the electricity stuff works to mess around with it too much. Also, apart from your safe word, I’d like you to add a word that indicates something is getting to be too much. Some indication for me to slow down.”
    “Yellow?” I asked him.
    “Good. Now, unless I get your explicit, upfront consent, we always play alone, and any Dom/sub dynamic takes place when it’s just the two of us. Okay?”
    I nodded. My throat was dry. I’d had plenty of se x with Patrick. Tied-up sex, D/s sex, vanilla sex. But this discussion was something we hadn’t had, and it was both nerve-racking and also a massive turn-on. In a few minutes, I was going to be the object of his focused, intent attention. I couldn’t wait.
    He was sitting on the couch next to me, and he got up. He lowered all the blinds in the room, and turned on a soft lamp. The overhead light was switched off, and he walked away for an instant. When he came back, he had a glass of white wine in his hand, and he took a seat on the couch.
    “We’ll go up to the exam room soon enough,” he promised. “But first, that’s a lovely dress. Take it off.”
    Patrick had ordered me to undress plenty of times. In exactly the same, level tone. It was different today. Today, he was my Dom.
    I gulped and got up off the couch. I kept my eyes lowered, and my hands were shaking slightly as I reached for the hem of the dress to pull it over my head. I took it off quickly, not even trying to be sexy about it, and then I stood there quietly in front of him as his eyes ran over my body and my very skimpy underwear.
    “Very nice,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “Please make eye contact.”
    “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I whispered, and looked at him. There was open, naked heat in his eyes as he contemplated me standing there.
    “That is very pretty lingerie, Lisa,” he said. His voice had deepened, and I could hear the rough edge to it. My eyes lowered for an instant to his pants, where his erection was clearly visible. He followed my gaze, and his lips twitched. He quickly unbuckled his belt,