Building Trust Read online

  “At the risk of alienating you, may I point out that you sure do spend a lot of time protesting.”

  I have to give Stella credit. She doesn’t jump off the couch and race for the door at my suggestion. I sure as fuck don’t want to pressure her in any way, but my goodness, she really digs her heels in on this issue. A bit too much I’d say.

  Stella drops her head back and stares at the ceiling. She crosses her arms and rubs her biceps.

  I give her time. I don’t want to interrupt. She’s thinking.

  Finally, she speaks. “It’s blurry.”

  “What’s blurry, sweetie?” I started calling her sweetie a while ago, and I do so sparingly. Tonight, I’ve done it several times.

  “Any kind of full-time submission really. I don’t know how they do it. Amy, Leah, Brea… Lucy at least goes to work during the day. The other three… They live the lifestyle all the time. How do they do it?” She turns to look at me. She’s asking a serious question.

  I inhale. “I don’t have all the answers, but some people are more comfortable submitting all the time.”

  “I like to keep it separate. Submit at a specified time at the club and leave it there.”

  “And yet, you’re the one who suggested me dominating you here at my house earlier.”

  She chews on her bottom lip. I can see the wheels turning. “I think it would still be separate.”

  “You’d like me to restrain you in my home, flog you to tears, and then hold you? For how long? When does it switch from being purely impact play to something sexual? Where do we do it? I mean, what if I paddled you on this couch right now and then we set a timer and fucked in the same location, say fifteen minutes afterward?” I’m pushing her.

  She nods slowly. “I see the problem. Maybe it was a bad idea. I’m sorry I suggested it.”

  “I’m not.” I lean closer. “It’s not a bad idea, Stella. There are no bad ideas. Anything is up for discussion. Maybe we could try your way. Pick a spot in the house where you submit to me. Keep it separate. Leave it in that room. When we exit the room, we’re back to being our regular selves.”

  She looks at me. “And what on earth are we regularly?” she asks seriously.

  Good question. “Two consenting adults who have fun together.” That about sums us up. It’s working. It’s who we are.

  I’m lying. It’s a temporary scratch to a permanent itch.

  Chapter 3

  Stella

  * * *

  “Vanilla, you mean,” I point out. When we aren’t at the club, we’re basically regular people dating and having a vanilla relationship.

  He shakes his head. “I would never describe us as vanilla. There’s always a bit of kink to our sex.”

  True. “I guess I tend to forget that other people probably don’t have a restraint system between their mattress and box springs and a drawer of toys next to their beds.”

  He chuckles. “I bet most people do have toys in their nightstand, but perhaps not a violet wand, butt plugs, and nipple clamps.”

  I shiver, my nipples stiffening at the mention of those clamps. This is why we’re so good together. We have fucking hot sex.

  “May I point something out without you panicking?” he asks.

  I draw in a breath. I need to be an adult here and listen to him. There’s no reason to freak out. “Yes.”

  His hand slides down my hair and he reaches for my fingers, threading ours together before he speaks. “You tend to like your sex the same way you like your submission.”

  I frown at him.

  “Hear me out. You like to be restrained and forced to submit when we’re at Surrender. You like to be fully immobilized. Gagged, even. You like your Dominant to take control and force you to accept what he gives you.”

  I nod slowly. He’s right.

  He leans closer. “Sweetheart, you enjoy your sex the same way. Your best orgasms happen when I restrain you spread-eagle on my bed, take away your ability to communicate verbally, and fuck you into tomorrow.”

  I suck in a breath. He’s so right.

  “There’s nothing wrong with either of those things. I suspect deep inside you have trouble giving yourself permission to feel intensely—pain or pleasure. So, it’s easier if it’s not your decision.”

  I swallow. “What does that say about me?”

  He shrugs. “It’s just an observation. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just a thing.”

  I lower my gaze, thinking about what he’s said. It’s deep and I can’t concentrate on his words right now. I’ll save them for another time.

  “We could use my workout room,” he says.

  I glance at him, confused. “For what?”

  He grins. “For dominating you. My weight bench isn’t much different from a spanking bench. I could adjust it so it’s comfortable, strap you to all four corners, and paddle your bottom until it’s bright red.”

  I chew on my lower lip for a moment before releasing it. “That could work. Lord knows I don’t go into your workout room for any other reason.”

  He chuckles. “When we’re done, we come out of that room just like leaving Surrender. Your masochism stays in there. When we cross the threshold, it’s over.”

  “And then we can fuck,” I declare mischievously.

  “You say that as if impact play makes you so horny you can’t wait to get home afterward.” He lifts a brow.

  I scrunch up my face. “Maybe that happens sometimes,” I hedge. It didn’t use to be that way. Before Walker, I kept my impact play completely separate from my sex life. Even with him, I did. At first. Lately, I’ve noticed I get rather horny when he strikes me.

  It’s just him. No one else. I assume it’s because we’re in a relationship, and I’ve never had a relationship with someone I also submit to at Surrender. The lines are blurring.

  Walker is smiling. He brings my hand to his cheek and rubs it before kissing my knuckles. “It’s okay, sweetie,” he says softly.

  I kind of like it when he calls me sweetie. It makes me feel special.

  “We’re dating. We’re attracted to each other. We’re in a relationship. We have sex. It’s not a stretch to think you might get aroused when I dominate you.”

  I nod, inhaling slowly. He’s right. Again. I need to force myself to take this discussion in another direction while we’re renegotiating. “I’m holding you back,” I point out.

  He narrows his gaze. “How are you holding me back?”

  “Because you haven’t dominated anyone the way you prefer since you started seeing me.” I wince. “At least I assume you haven’t. Maybe I’m wrong.”

  Both brows lift high on his head. “I’m not seeing anyone else, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I know we didn’t specifically discuss exclusivity, but I just assumed… Are you dating other people?”

  I shake my head. “No. Of course not. I wouldn’t be sleeping with you if I were also dating other men.”

  “Me neither.” He grins. “Or women.”

  I appreciate the way he can keep things light during this intense discussion.

  I cup his face. “Let’s not ignore the obvious. You’re a Daddy. I’m not a Little. We can’t keep this up forever. That’s half the reason why I don’t like to talk about us with Amy or any of my other friends. It feels like we live in an odd box that’s made of very thin paper. One of these days there will be a tear and it will all fall apart.”

  Walker’s expression is serious, but I continue. “I guess I feel like we’re just playing. It’s not real. As long as I don’t speak of it, I can keep playing in this pretend world where I’m dating this amazingly hot guy who checks off all my boxes and rocks my world in bed. I do all of that while ignoring the fact that you go out of your way to meet my needs and I do nothing to meet yours.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it though? You’re not the kind of sadist you force yourself to be so that I get my masochist needs fulfilled about once a week. Do you see me bending over backward to return the favor and submit to you in the way you need?” Now that I’ve said it out loud, it seems even more obvious this isn’t going to work.

  “Have I complained?”

  I sigh. “No, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t frustrated and close to the breaking point.” I meet his gaze head-on again. “At first I worried you thought you could change me, but it’s been three months, and you’ve never once insinuated you could turn me into someone I’m not.”

  He grabs my hand again, pulls it away from his face, and squeezes. “Being a Daddy Dom can look like a whole lot of different things. It’s not always what you picture from watching your friends. Lucy, Leah, Amy, Brea…they have a very specific arrangement with their Daddies. They live in a more permanent role in which their every move is submissive.”

  I nod. He’s not telling me something I don’t know.

  “Some people have a Daddy/Little relationship without ever using the words Daddy or Little. Lots of couples do. A lot of D/s relationships could easily be more Daddy/Little with a slight tweak of the vocabulary.”

  I tip my head to one side. “And?”

  He leans forward and kisses me gently before speaking. “I get what I need from our relationship just fine. We just don’t use the terminology that makes you uncomfortable.”

  It’s my turn to lift both brows. “How’s that?” I’m almost afraid to hear his answer.

  “You’re exhausted after work sometimes, Stella. Emotionally and physically. You often let me take over when I pick you up. Did you not realize it?”

  I guess not. I shake my head slowly.

  “About half the time we go out, you defer to me. When we stay home at either your place or mine, you nearly always submit to me.”

  “I do?”

  He chuckles. “Yes, sweetheart. You do. I make suggestions and gently guide you and you follow. Remember last week after your main refrigerator at work broke down and you spent the entire day stressing until it was fixed?”

  I nod.

  “I picked you up, brought you back here, settled you right here in the corner of the sectional. I took off your shoes, massaged your feet, cooked you comfort food, and held you while we watched some cheesy rom-com before carrying you to my bed and tucking you in.” He lifts his brow.

  I wince. All of that happened.

  “If you don’t think I got my Daddy fix, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “Wow.”

  He grins.

  “I never looked at it that way. I just thought you were kind.”

  He chuckles. “I am kind, sweetie. It’s all part of my Daddy persona. I love when you let me pamper you. I jump at the chance to see you on the nights when you’re the most frazzled and exhausted because then I get to take care of you and you get to rest.”

  I stare at him. Shit. He does Daddy me. How did I never notice?

  “You look like you’re about to panic.”

  I shake my head. “I’m just thinking back on all the times you came to my rescue. I feel like I took advantage of you.”

  He shakes his head. “Never. Taking care of you fills my soul. It’s my favorite thing to do. Maybe it seems odd to some people, but the nights when I get to Daddy you are far more relaxing than the nights when I’m alone.”

  “Sounds like I’m a lot of work.” I wince.

  “Nope. You just have a submissive side that appreciates someone stepping in and making decisions when you’re exhausted. It’s not that peculiar.”

  I slide closer to him and grab his biceps. “What is peculiar is finding someone who notices, gives a shit, and fills the holes.”

  “Probably.” He rubs his hands up and down my biceps. “Feel better? Because the secret Daddy in me has now been unleashed, and I’d really like to feed you so you don’t get hangry in the middle of the night.”

  I chuckle. “I’d like that. Thank you. But how on earth is this relationship even remotely equal and sustainable? It seems like I’m a needy hot mess and you’re going to grow tired of dealing with me eventually.” I’m a bit unnerved. I had no idea I was so…needy. That’s the best term for what he’s describing. It kind of bothers me. What if I can’t do it anymore now that I know?

  “You’re not needy, Stella. You’re human. You have needs. I have needs. They’re both being met. Don’t overanalyze it. I’ll make you a deal.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, intrigued.

  “If you’re a good girl and submit to me while I feed you, I’ll take you into my weight room and use your favorite crop all over your ass and thighs after we eat.”

  I chuckle. “So, what you’re saying is that this was always your plan, but you never verbalized it so I didn’t realize I was serving you in the ways you need?”

  “Basically.” He stands and reaches for my hand to help me up.

  I gasp when he turns me away from him before easing the shoulders of my dress off my body until it pools on the floor. I shudder as I stand in front of him in nothing but my thong.

  His hands roam up and down my body as he kisses my back. “I don’t want you to get red sauce on your dress, sweetie.”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s black. I don’t think anyone would ever know.”

  He kisses my shoulder next. “Mmm. Still. Better to not take any chances.” His hands slide around to cup my breasts. I rise onto my toes when he flicks his thumbs over my nipples. My breasts are sensitive. I always writhe when he plays with them.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. Walker nearly always takes off my clothes when we get to his house. He usually leaves me in nothing but my panties and gives me one of his T-shirts. I spend the evening nearly naked. I always thought he was simply making me comfortable. Or perhaps making it easier to ravish me later. Maybe it’s more… Do I care?

  “Are you going to give me a T-shirt?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Not this time. I think I’d rather you be naked while you sit at the table. I like watching your hard nipples rise and fall.”

  I shudder. I’m comfortable with my body, and I’ve been naked in front of him many times. I like the way he looks at me. Hell, half the time he gives me a T-shirt, it ends up on the floor eventually anyway.

  Walker takes my hand and leads me to the table where he pulls out a chair, guides me to sit, and pushes me up close. He’s a gentleman. He always does this. But tonight, I’m considering his actions through a new lens.

  I watch as Walker grabs the bag of food from the island and brings it over to us. He returns to the kitchen for plates and silverware next before opening the containers and scooping our meals out onto real plates. We could have eaten out of the containers, but that’s not his style.

  “Water, sweetie?” he asks. “I’d offer wine, but not if you want to lift weights later.” He chuckles.

  I laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it from now on? Lifting weights is our new euphemism for kink play?”

  “I think it’s a great idea. That way when we’re in public, either of us can say, ‘hey, baby, let’s go home and lift weights.’”

  I laugh again, but my humor disappears when he leans over and kisses me, taking his time, licking my lips and stroking my tongue languidly. “Mmm. I love kissing you,” he murmurs as he pulls away.

  My heart is racing, and my damn nipples are so hard I instinctively reach up and play with them as soon as he walks away to get the water.

  “Leave your tits alone, Stella,” he commands without glancing at me. “Let the need build.”

  I drop my hands and pick up my fork. “Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”

  He smirks as he glances at me. “Or I just know you pretty well.”

  I cock my head to one side. “I’ve never played with myself in front of you before.”

  “You’ve never been as hot and bothered before dinner as you are tonight either.” He fills two glasses of water and returns to set them on the table. “You’re squirming. Your nipples are hard points. Your cheeks are flushed. You’re squeezing your thighs together.”

  My face heats as he calls me out. Why is he right again?

  He sits on the seat diagonal from mine. “I think our renegotiating has you flustered.”

  I pick up my knife and proceed to cut my chicken. I’m definitely flustered. I can’t even taste the first bite. It’s still warm, but my mouth isn’t communicating with my brain. I’m more aroused than usual. Partly from the discussion, but there’s something else happening here tonight.

  Maybe it’s the fact that we’re going to “lift weights” after dinner. But that makes very little sense since, until tonight, I’ve never mixed sex with my kink. I think it has to do with the fact that he’s brought his dominance to my attention.

  I’m hyper-aware he’s dominating me. Shit, nearly completely. How did I never notice this before? I feel the need to defend myself. “Just because I like to submit to you and enjoy you doing things for me doesn’t mean I’m Little.”

  “Nope. It doesn’t mean that at all. I never suggested otherwise. I simply pointed out that it fulfills my needs.” He takes a bite of lasagna, chews it, and swallows before commenting further. “We don’t have to label it, Stella. In my head, I know I’m dominating you. It doesn’t matter if you notice it or not.”

  “You’re Daddying me,” I point out.

  He nods. “Semantics.”

  I watch as he takes another bite before he points his fork toward my plate. “Eat, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s been hours since you ate. I’m not taking you to the weight room until I’m satisfied with how much you’ve eaten.”

  Oh, yeah. He’s Daddying me. He always does. How on earth did I not notice?

  I shiver as I glance down at my nipples. Suddenly, I feel kind of shy instead of my usual confident lack of modesty. What the hell? “Maybe I could have a shirt?”

  He narrows his gaze at me. “Mmm. Why do you need a shirt, Stella?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.” I’m telling the truth. I have no idea.

  Walker sets his fork down and stands. I think he’s going to leave the room and get me a shirt. Instead, he tugs his dress shirt out of his pants and slowly unbuttons it, never taking his gaze off me.