The Drake Restrained Collection: Part 1 and 2 (The Drake Series Book 3) (26 page)

"I don't
know
." Now she was sounding frustrated. She glanced around as if afraid that people would overhear us. "We were a bit drunk, and I just, I don’t know… I was more relaxed. He
did
things for a long time and I was more ready."

"How exactly did he work you up?" I said, knowing I might be going over the line even more firmly. I had to keep pushing. She’d never reveal anything on her own.

"Drake! We're having supper."

I smiled. "I'm not asking because I want to become aroused. I'm asking so I understand what you need. What you like. A Dom must trust his sub to tell the truth at all times. She must trust him enough to tell the truth. Otherwise, it won't work."

"I thought that was what the agreement is for."

"It is but we have to talk openly. I want you to get used to being totally honest with me about sex. You can say anything.
Anything
. I've heard it all."

"Not from
my
lips."

"No, not from
your
lips," I said, smiling. "And I can't
wait
to hear it from your lips in particular. I happen to love your lips, especially your scar. All I can think of when I'm with you is kissing you, licking your scar, sucking your lips, biting them. And I mean both sets." I licked my lips again for emphasis and bit my bottom lip, knowing it would make her think of me licking her, but also think of those books.

They titillated her. They made her want it for herself. I wanted to be the one to give it to her.

Oh, I was no sadist, which was her fear. I wasn’t into humiliation, which was another fear of hers. I wasn’t into anything but sexual domination. Using her body for my own pleasure, which of course, meant giving pleasure to her.

Having total control over a woman’s body – of her sexual response? It was what drove me.

"So, enough about your delicious lips that I want to suck and lick and bite. Tell me about flyboy. When did he start to introduce the idea of BDSM into your relationship?"

"After the books came out and it was on the news."

"What did you think at first?"

"I read the books but I didn't want it,” she said and I knew she was lying. She
did
want it, but it scared her. “I thought BDSM was about men who hated women and just wanted an excuse to hit them and get away with it. I thought it meant I wasn’t good enough the way I was. He wanted me to shave. He wanted to do anal. He wanted to spank me. He wanted me to let him mock-rape me."

"And how did that make you feel?"

She frowned as if the answer as obvious. "Upset, of course. I had just started to enjoy sex and then he starts with all this kinky stuff that scared me and made me feel inadequate. Why wasn't I good enough as I was?"

I finished my soup and sat back, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "For someone with a kink, plain old orgasms aren't enough. It's like eating vanilla ice cream after you've had chocolate truffle. You can eat it but it's not the same pleasure."

"You and Lara," she said and smiled. "With the ice cream metaphor. Except vanilla ice cream is still sweet. Anal and mock rape aren't."

"They
can
be,” I said, and it was then I realized how sheltered she had been. Flyboy hadn’t known how to initiate her into the pleasures of anal. I wouldn’t make that mistake. A lot of women were shocked to realize they can orgasm during anal sex. “It's all in your preparation and build-up. Flyboy should have studied BDSM before he ever tried anything. He should have gone to someone and been trained like I was. I
know
how to do this, Kate. You can relax."

"So, is this dinner and this talk part of how to
do
this?"

She said it while avoiding my eyes so I had to bend down a bit, catch her eye.

"Not my usual MO," I said, for it was the truth. I usually didn’t give a running narrative with explanations of why I was asking and doing certain things. But she was a student. She wanted to learn. I loved to teach. "But the general approach is the same. I have to find out what a sub needs and if we're compatible. Sometimes, I have to seduce them a bit."

"So, in your mind, you're seducing me right now."

I smiled. "I hope so."

Her cheeks reddened once again and I could have leaned over and kissed her right then, chuckling at how open she was despite her unwillingness to say the words. Her body betrayed her. I relied on it.

"What do you
hope
will happen?"

I moved closer to her and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

"I
hope
," I said, speaking softly. "I hope that we'll continue to talk like this, with you telling me in intimate detail what you did that made you feel pleasure and what he did that scared you. Then I hope you'll agree to take me to your apartment. I hope that you'll agree to let me fuck you tonight so that the first time is out of the way. I promise to make you come at least twice if you do. Nothing will happen tonight in terms of bondage and dominance. It's too soon. But it's not too soon for us to fuck, given our obvious mutual attraction."

"This is all too, I don’t know –
clinical
."

She was still resisting me.

"I thought you wanted to understand. I thought if I explained everything, you'd feel more comfortable. I can just
do
it, if you'd prefer. Just train you without explaining."

She said nothing for a moment as if considering. "You seem to have this all plotted out."

"I do. It's my specialty. I like to study a problem. I like to break it down into its parts. I like to create a strategy for solving it, lay out all the steps. I like to follow through."

"So I'm a problem?"

"I want you as my submissive. The problem is how I can get you to submit. I have to understand you, what you need and want in order to have you, satisfy your needs. Will you at least consider my request?" I looked deeply into her eyes.

She glanced away, unable to hold my gaze as if embarrassed by her desires. "I'm thinking."

"Good,’ I said, deciding then to move to another topic. She was obviously unnerved and while I wanted her to feel out of her element and in mine, I didn’t want her to get mad. “Now, tell me about your love of the fine arts. Do you paint or draw?"

We talked about her studies and how she felt her father disapproved of her interest in the arts. I thought it was strange that Ethan would be anything but supportive of Kate and whatever she decided. It didn’t seem in character.

She surprised me once more when talk turned to her mother and whether she encouraged Kate’s love of art.

"You want to talk about submissives? I think that sometimes, mother was afraid of him."

That surprised me once more. I couldn’t imagine Ethan, who I knew as a jovial mentor, making his own family afraid. Perhaps in my haste to welcome Ethan’s attention, I misjudged him. "He wasn't violent was he?"

She shook her head. "No. He just has this
way
… You
know
when he disapproves. He doesn't even have to say anything."

"Sounds like an old bastard,” I said, wanting to be sympathetic even as I had a hard time accepting it. “So, now, instead of writing about politics, you're writing about culture and the arts. That's a good compromise. You're a very good writer."

"Thank you," she said, and I could tell she was beginning to calm down, warm up a bit. "It makes me happy to be able to write about what I really love."

The rest of our food came and I cut up the Pelmeni and held the fork for her to eat.

"Here," I said, "taste this. It's so
good
."

She took the food willingly off my fork and I couldn’t help but smile in triumph as she ate it. 

She closed her eyes. "That's so
good
!"

I smiled. "I love that face."

I imagined her closing her eyes when I touched her naked body. Hopefully I would know in an hour or so, if I took extreme care. "I bet it's like your orgasm face. At least, I
hope
so."

I could see her trying not to respond to that in her body language. She hesitated and blinked several times. "Do you talk like this to all your submissives?"

"Like what?" I bit back a laugh at her forwardness, which I enjoyed. I didn’t want to insult her, but I wanted to play a bit. Loosen her up.

I ordered another round of Anisovaya from the cocktail waitress. It would help loosen her up a bit as well.

"So," I said, lowering my voice. "Will you take me to your place tonight and let me fuck you and make you come at least twice?"

She had regained enough composure from my last comment and was unfazed. She stabbed a Pelmeni with her fork. "I don't know if I can –
tonight
."

"But maybe
some
night? That's a step forward,” I said, not wanting to admit defeat – yet. I still had a few weapons in my seduction arsenal. “Look, if you're unsure about sex, just let me come over and see your apartment at least. I'd love to see what your apartment looks like from the inside instead of just what your peephole looks like. Besides,” I said and leaned a bit closer, smiling. “If you make me stay outside, Mrs. Kropotkin might call the cops if she thinks I'm harassing you. You're an artist. I'd love to see your art. "

She was unable to hide her smile. "You want to come in and see my etchings?"

"I really do want to see your art. I want to
know
you, Kate. Your art is part of you."

"You don't need to see my art to be my Dom."

She was right of course. I didn’t have to see her apartment or her art to be her Dom. I wanted to see her apartment and her art so I could understand her better. I was damn curious.

"Look, Kate, I
promise
I'll keep my hands to myself. If you change your mind and want to fuck me, you'll have to make the move."

She looked in my eyes as if trying to determine if she could trust me. She could – I would never force a woman. I had no interest in real resistance. Only the kind that the sub wanted as part of role playing. I got off seeing a woman willingly turn over her power to me, making herself vulnerable, trusting me completely. Force was the very opposite of that.

When we finished our main course, the waiter brought us the blini with whipped cream. I fed it to her, enjoying watching her eat and savor the delicious dessert.

She opened her mouth and let me feed her the crepe, closing her eyes and murmuring in delight.

"I love it when you close your eyes like that," I said. "But when I make you come, you'll keep your eyes open and focused on mine."

That threw her, but not as much as before. We’d been making small talk – mostly about the restaurant and its history in the city so my comment came out of the blue. I hoped she was imagining me making her come in some manner. What did she prefer? Oral? Intercourse? I’d do both of course. I’d make her come once through oral and then I’d fuck her and make her come again.

She was quiet and I wondered if she wasn’t thinking the same thing.

"What's going on in that too-intelligent mind of yours?" I said, seeing that she was overthinking.

She frowned. "Why am I too intelligent? You said you didn't like stupid women…"

I laughed. "I should have said
too active
mind. Sometimes very intelligent women over-think certain things – like sex and pleasure.  You have a very responsive body, Kate. You should just free yourself to feel."

"Women are
always
wet, you know," she said, her voice irritated.  "You're a doctor. You should know that from your Gynecology rotation."

"Not
that
wet." I smiled, remembering how wet she was. It sent a rush of blood to my dick. "Don't be embarrassed. I was hard as a rock so we're even."

"You seem so certain of yourself."

"You like that I'm so certain of myself." She did. She was attracted to me. She might feel safer with a milquetoast of a man who deferred to her and was sweet and gentlemanly, but she wouldn’t get wet for him. "If I wasn't, what kind of Dom would I be?" I held a fork up to her mouth. "You have to believe that I'm dominant for this to work. If you doubt my ability to take control over you, you'll never be able to yield power. That's key." If she could admit it to herself, she’d finally let go and be happy but she was fighting with herself every step of the way.

"So this is an act to convince me you're able to take control?"

I shook my head and caught her eye. "This is no act,” I said, for it wasn’t. I was being true to who I was and what I was with her, so she saw me as I really was – not what might be seen as polite and safe. “I'm being as open and honest as I can with you. I
understand
you, Kate. You can relax with me. You can just
be
. Believe me, I won't judge you except when you disobey my orders or don't try hard enough to comply."

Submissives needed to feel the Dom’s control or they would fight. They wanted to feel his control. It was what they craved. Kate craved it, but her mind fought with her body.

"I'm so conflicted about this."

"I know you are." I reached out and took her hand, stroking my thumb over her palm. "You're afraid. Your modern feminist sensibility thinks this is wrong, that submission is wrong, but that primal part of your brain knows it's right."

I watched her while I ate, searching her face for a sign of what was going on in her mind. She felt such guilt for wanting to be dominated sexually.

"You have to get over your self-judgment and accept this for what it is. Submission for you is just the way you prefer to experience sex. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no deep meaning to it. It just turns you on."

"It shouldn't."

"There you go – that judgmental Superego,” I said, recognizing it for what it was. “Kate, D/s the way we will practice it is safe, sane, and most of all, consensual. That's not just a slogan. I believe it.” I let that sink in for a moment. I had to reinforce the safe part. The consensual. This would be her choice. She would choose it. Choose everything that would happen between us. I would fulfill it.