Micah had not only moved her into
his apartment, he had taken her to his house, too, a mansion—well, to Sam it
was a mansion after where she had lived for the past year—in a manicured
community in the suburbs. And he had shown her the basement in his house, as
well as the room that took up half the basement. Where he had a collection of
equipment that Sam had only heard some of the harder-core girls at the Black
Garter talk about in passing. So, that's what that stuff looked like.
Admittedly, she had been turned on a few times by what she had heard, and had
often wondered about using whips or ropes or nipple clamps. What did they feel
like? Did people really get pleasure from that kind of thing? It surprised her
that she wanted to find out.
"Which are you? A top or a
bottom?" Micah chuckled and walked into the room with folded laundry.
Sam jumped, startled. "Will
you stay out of my head?"
"Sorry, habit."
She laughed. That's what he always
said. "You are never going to stop that, are you?"
He shook his head, wrapping his
arms around her waist. "No." His grin was unapologetic. "I can't
help it. I like the way you think. Especially when you're thinking about my
special proclivities."
Sam's eyebrow arched.
"Proclivities? My, what a big vocabulary you have."
"I'm just full of
surprises." Micah pressed closer. "And I'm very well educated."
Sam's heart raced. "I can see
that, and I'm sure you are." She still didn't know how old Micah was, but
she could bet he had matriculated more than a few times. His intelligence was a
huge turn-on, and over the past week, she had become more and more aware of
just how immense his mental faculties were.
"Your intelligence turns me
on, too." Micah bent his head and skimmed his lips over the side of her
neck.
"Would you stop that?"
"Huh-uh. Nope. Never." He
opened his mouth and closed it over her flesh, sucking gently.
Damn him, but he was persuasive.
"Well, can you at least stay
out of my memories?" She shivered from the heat he lit inside her.
He released her neck and straightened.
"I can do that. Maybe." He grinned and his lips pressed against hers,
holding her there for a long moment as if he was stripping off her clothes with
his mind then he slowly pulled away and growled as he pulled himself back under
control. "I'm going down to the corner store for beer. I'll be back in
fifteen. Need anything?"
It was Sunday, and the Super Bowl was
on. Trace was coming over to watch the game. So, yeah, maybe they didn't have
enough time to play just now.
"Maybe some pretzels?"
"Will do." He kissed her
again then dragged himself away to grab his wallet off the dresser and shrug
into his coat.
"Which are you?" she
asked as he started to leave the room, referring to his earlier question. He
had only shown her the room in his basement. Interestingly enough, they hadn't
talked about it. She got the impression he wanted to ease her into the idea
slowly.
He stopped and turned his
blistering navy eyes back to her. "I'm a dom, but I also top. With you, I
think I might actually bottom, though. But I'll never submit."
"What's the difference between
a dom and a top?" She had so much to learn about the whole BDSM scene, but
she wanted to learn. It excited her.
"A dominant requires
submission, a top doesn't. As a top," he slowly stepped toward her as if
he was hunting her, "I provide physical stimulation without requiring you
to submit." He reached around and slapped her ass. Hard. "See, if you
didn't like my slapping you as a top, you can stop me, or basically top me from
the bottom. But if I was dom'ing you, I wouldn't allow you to do that. I would
have control and your complete submission. Do you understand?"
Her ass stung in the most erotic
way where he had spanked her. "I think so. Topping and bottoming allows
for give and take between the two, but between a dominant and a submissive, one
gives and one takes. There is no give and take."
He grinned mischievously.
"Very good. You've just completed your first lesson."
The air smoldered between them.
"I look forward to the next one."
"So do I." He backed
away, grazing his fingertips over her cheek.
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