The Real Mason Read Free

his hand.
    Releasing her, both literally and figuratively.
    “Please explain,” she said.
    “Here, let’s sit on the couch.” Very carefully, he encircled her biceps and pulled her to the antique sofa. She’d inherited the house and relic furniture in it from her grandmother and told him she’d never gotten around to giving it a modern makeover. He’d never had the heart to tell her the feminine, old-fashioned furniture suited her to a T.
    He nestled her into the corner and smoothed her skirt. She twitched under his palms and he silently cursed. Forcing himself to give her space, he sat on the opposite side of the chaise, careful not to touch her. He’d probably never touch that smooth, pale skin again. He tried not to think about the loss.
    He took a deep breath and plunged in. “Do you know anything about BDSM?”
    A shake of the head.
    With the internet, it was rare these days to find someone who didn’t have at least a passing knowledge of the term but it didn’t surprise him. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands loosely. “It stands for bondage, dominance and submission, and sadism and masochism.”
    Gaze going wide, she shrank into the corner of the sofa as though she wanted to disappear.
    Quickly, he spoke so she didn’t bolt from the room and call the cops on him. “Don’t panic, I’m not a sadist. I like dominance and submission. Although it’s not uncommon for bondage and a little pain and punishment to go along with those.” He refused to sugarcoat it.
    She rubbed her temple. “What are you saying?”
    “I’m what’s called a dominant. I control women sexually. Submissive women who want to give up control. Despite how it might appear on the surface, the Dom/sub power exchange is never about force. It’s always consensual.” Worry knotted in his gut. He didn’t have much experience explaining this to someone with no understanding of the life. He hated the way it must sound.
    She frowned and he continued before too many horror images filled her mind. “I know this is hard to understand and I’m sorry I never told you. I usually only date women who know what I am.”
    “So you only date women…” She cleared her throat. “Um, like you?”
    “In my thirty-two years, other than a girl or two in high school, you’re my only vanilla relationship. I probably shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. My only excuse was I couldn’t resist.” His knuckles turned white. “I didn’t anticipate falling so fast and by the time it hit me, I was already in too deep. I thought I could put it aside. Unfortunately, I was wrong. It’s too hard to be with you when my instincts are telling me to take what belongs to me.”
    A tiny tremor shook her shoulders and she wrapped her arms around her chest, plumping her breasts to expose soft flesh. Those breasts he’d forced himself to treat gently when his mind had filled with ways to tease and torment until she screamed.
    “And you feel this way about me?” Her quiet voice pulled him from his thoughts.
    “Yes, I do.”
    “And what would it entail?” Blonde curls bounced as she cocked her head to the side. Expression a mix of curiosity and caution.
    He cleared his throat. “That depends.”
    “On what?”
    He looked into her eyes and let her really see what he’d kept locked inside. “On what I want from you at that given time.”
    “Can you give me an example?” She nibbled pensively on her bottom lip.
    “I believe I just did,” he said, putting that edge in his voice he always repressed around her. “Tell me, Anna, when I kissed you, what was different?”
    The color rose higher, deepened. She smoothed the fabric of her dress. “I’m not sure.”
    He leaned over and grasped her knee, hard enough for her to feel the implied meaning behind the gesture. “A submissive girl doesn’t get to evade. A submissive girl has no other choice but to answer the question. That’s the difference.”
    “Oh!” Her hand flew to her