“Just so we’re clear,” he says. “You want to be my submissive when it comes to sex. You’ve made it clear you're not interested in a twenty-four-seven dynamic built around constant rules and discipline, and I respect that. However, when it comes to sex, you want to be my submissive, and you want me to be your Dom.”

“Yes,” I answer, leaning back against the shelf and watching as Nas begins to speak our world into existence. The darkness in me opens its eyes and whirs to life.

“That means you belong to me, Alina,” he explains with his chin up and his confidence through the roof. I can tell he’s more comfortable now. Talking about BDSM is where he finds his comfort zone, and it’s sexy as hell to see him morph into his true self. “Being my submissive means we do what I say—how, when, and where I want. Do you understand and agree with that?”

“Yes, I do,” I reply, trying my best to mirror his confidence.

“That means no hesitation. If you don't do what I ask, there will still be consequences. Our dynamic may not be twenty-four-seven, but like I said, in the bedroom you belong to me.”

“Since we’re not twenty-four-seven, how do you expect to punish me? I already told you I don't need a life like that. I’m not sitting in any corners, or washing my mouth out with soap, or writing sentences a hundred times like a child in detention.”

“I understand, and that's not what I mean when I say consequences. Every punishment will be sexual and based on your kinks, which we still need to discuss.”

The darkness smiles within me.

“My kinks?”

“Absolutely. We’ve covered your impact kink a bit with the slapping, and you obviously get off to breath play. But I’m curious how deep that impact play runs. I’m going to ask you some questions, and I simply need you to answer by saying, ‘Hard limit,’ ‘Soft limit,’ or ‘No limit.’ Got it?”

“Yes,” I answer. My blood begins to race through my veins as I realize this is the beginning of our relationship. Nas is vetting me, and nothing will be the same after this conversation. We haven't even begun, and Nas already has me on the edge of my seat.

Nas clears his throat and maintains steady eye contact with me. “Paddles,” he says, and then awaits my answer.

The word makes my darkness gasp with excitement.

“No limit,” I reply, and the urge to smile comes roaring into the room.

“Flogging?”

The darkness fights to wriggle control away from me.

“No limit.”

“Good,” Nas says with a smile, before moving right along. “Riding crops?”

Use it on me right now, and break my skin.

“No limit,” I reply.