Six Signs of Submission (Desire Island 6)

We’ll see, he thought.

Aloud, he said, “That’s cool. Before we head over, let’s talk about limits. BDSM is about pushing boundaries, but it’s not a competition. I don’t want you white-knuckling your way through anything. It’s not necessarily about how deep or painful you can go, but about where we can go together.”

“Okay.” She blew out a breath, some of the rigidity leaving her body. “Say,” she added, her tone suddenly animated. “Think I might be able to fly? Or is that just through erotic pain?”

“You might,” he replied. “Pain isn’t a necessary component to flying, though it’s often the most direct, if you’re able to flow with it. I wouldn’t expect it your first time out. I would need to learn your rhythms and your body better to help you get there. And you need to be able to trust me enough to let go.”

She nodded soberly, digesting this.

“Do you have any issues with bondage?” he asked. “I’m not talking hardcore here. More like binding your wrists, maybe your ankles too? A lot of subs find rope very relaxing, and a good way to enter submissive subspace more quickly.”

“Um,” she said again. “I think I’m okay with that. It always sounds so sexy in the novels.”

“Even sexier in real life,” he replied with a grin. “Again, we’ll take it at your pace. How about being blindfolded? That okay?”

She pressed her lips together, her pupils dilating. “Maybe,” she whispered.

He couldn’t help but smile again. “Maybe works for now,” he agreed easily. He glanced back toward the scene stations. “I see a bondage table available right over there. It’s partially hidden by that screen, so that’ll give us a little privacy.” He rose from the table and held out his hand.

“Coming?”

Chapter 3

Lainey allowed Cooper to lead her by the hand to the empty scene station. As they walked, she glanced sidelong at him, not quite believing this was happening. She’d been invited to participate in scenes each time she’d come to one of these parties, and she’d had no trouble refusing. It had been easy to stick to her self-imposed rule of not getting involved with guests—until now.

She’d noticed Cooper working out in the weight room that morning before class. He was beautifully made, with long bones and rounded muscles that flowed smoothly from the curve of chest and shoulder to the six-pack abs, narrow waist and muscular thighs.

She had admired his form and grace with the barbells. He wasn’t one of those grunting he-men who made sure everyone in the room was aware they could bench press three-fifty.

She’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d joined her step class, and again had admired his form and stamina as he’d easily kept up with the class, despite his having quietly added two extra steps to his platform to get a better workout.

So, yeah—the physical attraction had been there from the start. But that wasn’t why she was now heading toward her very first actual scene with a bona fide Dom.

It was because she really had no choice.

From the moment he’d locked eyes with her at the dungeon entrance, she’d felt his power like a magnet, pulling her to him without her permission or full comprehension. During their chat at the juice bar, the attraction had ignited into a hot, steady flame in her gut. Though there was no way she was a submissive, something about this man unsettled her in a way that was new for her.

For the first time in her life, she was not fully in control. For the first time, she was going to willingly, knowingly step out of her sexual comfort zone with a man she’d only just met. Was she out of her mind?

It was true, she’d long been fascinated with the whole concept of an erotic power exchange. But the novels she liked to read were fodder for masturbatory fantasies, nothing more. Yet, the daily exposure to BDSM as a constant backdrop this past month had had its effect.

She had become almost complacent about things that would have shocked her socks off before coming to work at the resort. Casual nudity was prevalent everywhere she looked. Men and women wore slave collars, some of them crawling behind their “owners” on a leash, evidence of recent impact play marking their skin. Everyone was so respectful and accepting. Who was she to judge or question their lifestyle choices?

And, truth to tell, she found the whole thing fascinating. This little island was a BDSM paradise. It was a safe, sane haven where she could explore what until now had only been vague fantasies swirling in her brain.

Anyway, all she’d agreed to was a little light bondage and sensory play. She could totally handle that. If she freaked for whatever reason, she had her safeword.

“Slip off your shoes and scoot up onto the table,” Cooper said as they entered the small area that comprised the scene station. “Lie on your back and relax.”