Page 29 of The Real Mason
“When? Over coffee? Or that first dinner? How many dates did we have before our relationship turned physical?”
I shrug. “You still could have told me.”
“I should have, but I didn’t want to say the words. What would your reaction have been if over dinner I’d mentioned that I wanted to tie you up, dominate you, make you obey, and fuck you until you screamed?” He releases my neck, tilting his head to the side to study me close. “And that only scratches the surface of the dirty, kinky, obscene things I’ve thought about doing to you.”
Several long, tense moments slip by before I speak, admitting the truth we both know. “It would have frightened me.” I swallow hard. “It would have made me look at you differently.”
He nods. “And selfishly, I didn’t want to put that look in your eyes.”
The admission reminds me of the sweet and protective things Mason has done for me since we met, but it doesn’t change the facts—he should have told me.
“You should have given me a choice,” I say quietly.
“You’re right,” he says. No evasions or skirting around his responsibility. “I made a mistake. I kept looking for ways to tell you, but I never found the right words. Before you, it had never been an issue, so I didn’t know how to handle the situation. I was stupid.”
“Well, I’m assuming at some point someone educated you. Why didn’t you just do what someone did to you?”
He laughs. “I was a horny eighteen-year-old kid. I’d have done anything to get laid.”
The tension between us eases, and I relax into his warm chest. “How did you learn?”
“Rissa was older. Hell, she was probably only twenty-six at the time, but she seemed otherworldly.” He gives me a crooked grin, and I feel myself thawing. “She was a mistress, and breaking in eager young boys was her thing. She took a liking to me.”
Shock rolls through me, and I straighten. “You mean…”
Amusement dances in his brown eyes. “Yes, I was introduced into this madness as a sub.”
He’s so sure in his handling of me. It’s impossible to envision someone treating him the same way.
I gawk at him. “But how?”
He shrugs. “She said she’d fuck me like I’d never dreamed of, and as a price I had to do everything she said.” He laughs, his memories clearly fond. “Eighteen-year-old boys don’t say no to an offer like that.”
I press my lips together, fighting the urge to say something scathing.
He runs his thumb along my lower lip. “None of that, girl. She’s a dear friend of mine, so if you decide to give this relationship another shot, you’ll have to get used to her.”
“You still see her?” My stomach turns over.
“Of course,” he says as though it should be obvious. “She taught me everything I know. She’s actually quite angry with me.”
“Why?” I’m liking this story less and less. I almost wish I hadn’t asked. How many other secrets does he have?
“According to her, she taught me better than to be a coward.” He doesn’t look too upset by the insult. “She thought I should have been honest with you from the start. We’ve had many knock-down, drag-out arguments about it.”
I swallow. “You’ve had fights about me?”
“Yes, she’s still fond of telling me what to do.” He slides his fingers into my hair, massaging the nape of my neck. “She was convinced you were submissive.”
“She doesn’t even know me.” I shiver as he traces the cords of my neck.
I want to reject the word, but it doesn’t seem the time.
“Her theory was that I’d never be attracted to you in the first place if you didn’t call to the dominant in me.” A wry shake of the head. “She was right, as usual, annoying woman.”
I frown. “What are you trying to say?”
A smile twitches his lips. “I think we’ve proven tonight that you have tendencies. How deep those tendencies go is open to debate.”
