The Agreement (18 page)

"Did he actually
tell
you that you
couldn't study art in college?"

"Not in so many words, but he made his
views known, as he does with everything."

"What about your mother? Didn't she encourage
you?"

"You want to talk about submissives? I
think that sometimes, mother was afraid of him."

"He wasn't violent was he?"

I shook my head. "No. He just has this
way
…
You
know
when he disapproves. He doesn't even have to say
anything."

"Sounds like an old bastard. So, now,
instead of writing about politics, you're writing about culture and the arts.
That's a good compromise. You're a very good writer."

"Thank you," I said, starting to relax
now that we weren't talking so bluntly about sex. "It makes me happy to be
able to write about what I really love."

The waitress removed our empty bowls and brought
the Pelmeni and Blinchik. Drake cut up one of the Pelmeni and held his fork to
me.

"Here," he said, "taste this.
It's so
good
."

I took the bite-sized piece of dumpling off his
fork and he smiled as I ate it.  I closed my eyes it was so delicious,
rich and savory. "That's so
good
!"

He smiled. "I love that face," he
said, his voice a bit husky. "I bet it's like your orgasm face. At least,
I
hope
so."

"Do you talk like this to all your
submissives?"

"Like what?" He tried to act all
innocent, but he knew exactly what I meant.

The cocktail waitress came by and he ordered
another round of Anisovaya.

"So," he said, his voice soft and low.
"Will you take me to your place tonight and let me fuck you and make you
come at least twice?"

I forked a piece of Pelmeni. "I don't know
if I can –
tonight
."

"But maybe
some
night? That's a step
forward. Look, if you're unsure about sex, just let me come over and see your
apartment at least. I'd love to see what your apartment looks like from the
inside instead of just what your peephole looks like. Besides, if you make me
stay outside, Mrs. Kropotkin might call the cops if she thinks I'm harassing
you. You're an artist. I'd love to see your art. "

I couldn't help but smile a bit. "You want
to come in and see my etchings?"

"I really do want to see your art. I want
to
know
you, Kate. Your art is part of you."

"You don't need to see my art to be my
Dom."

"Look, Kate, I
promise
I'll keep my
hands to myself. If you change your mind and want to fuck me, you'll have to
make the move."

I turned and looked directly in his eyes,
searching for how truthful he was, but it was impossible to tell. All I had was
Lara's word to go on – that he was absolutely trustworthy. But could I
trust her?

After we finished the meal, he fed me some blini
with whipped cream and fresh fruit mixed with some fruity Russian liqueur. He
seemed to love feeding me and I told myself that this was great insight into
what made him a Dom. He really enjoyed taking care of a woman's needs –
all
of them. Chivalry was not dead with Drake. Feeding – I remembered the
movie 9 ½ Weeks when the male character fed her while she was
blindfolded, trying to heighten her senses.

Drake made everything about control and
sensation, as if his life was dedicated to it. I thought about him while he
swirled the bit of crepe around in the sweet sauce before lifting the fork to
my mouth, his eyes encouraging me to have more. He was a neurosurgeon. He dealt
in brains – how they worked and what to do when they went wrong. Neurons,
brain structures, neurological responses. He had an undergraduate degree in
Clinical Psychology, and studied the mind and how it worked, the unconscious,
emotions, personality. It made sense that he would be all about control and
enhanced sensation. Maybe it fascinated him on that level.

 I opened my mouth and let him feed me the
crepe and it was so delicious, I closed my eyes and murmured my appreciation.
When I opened them, I saw real pleasure in his eyes.

"I love it when you close your eyes like
that," he said as he watched me chew. "But when I make you come,
you'll keep your eyes open and focused on mine."

I swallowed hard at the thought. It wasn't just
the idea of him making me come, it was how certain he was that he
would
,
and that certainty aroused me, my body warming, my flesh swelling. He was so
sure of his ability. If he could make me this aroused just feeding me crepes
and talking, what would it be like if we were alone and naked? My legs felt
weak and I was glad to be sitting down.

Was I that woman – the woman who was so
easily controlled by a dominant man? Who got off on being controlled - on
giving over complete control to a man?

"What's going on in that too-intelligent
mind of yours?"

I frowned. "Why am I too intelligent? You
said you didn't like stupid women…"

He laughed and shook his head. "I should
have said
too active
mind. Sometimes very intelligent women over-think
certain things – like sex and pleasure.  You have a very responsive
body, Kate. You should just free yourself to feel."

"Women are
always
wet, you
know," I said, irritated that he was so certain about me. 
"You're a doctor. You should know that from your Gynecology
rotation."

"Not
that
wet." He gave me that
half-grin that was more of a smirk. "Don't be embarrassed. I was hard as a
rock so we're even."

He
was
hard as rock. And like Lara said,
hung
.
I recalled the feel of him pressed against my belly and how excited I felt
knowing he was as aroused as I was. How I wanted him inside of me. While Big
was too big for me, I figured Drake would fit.

"You seem so certain of yourself."

"You like that I'm so certain of
myself." His grin grew wider and he forked another piece of crepe, picking
up some whipped cream and fruit. "If I wasn't, what kind of Dom would I
be?" He held the fork up once more and I opened my mouth. "You have
to believe that I'm dominant for this to work. If you doubt my ability to take
control over you, you'll never be able to yield power. That's key."

"So this is an act to convince me you're
able to take control?"

He shook his head and fixed his gaze on me.
"This is no act. I'm being as open and honest as I can with you. I
understand
you, Kate. You can relax with me. You can just
be
. Believe me, I won't
judge you except when you disobey my orders or don't try hard enough to
comply."

Disobeying his orders…
Why did that both
arouse me and irritate me?

"I'm so conflicted about this."

"I know you are." He reached out and
took my hand, stroking his thumb over my palm and even that sent a stab of lust
to my groin. "You're afraid. Your modern feminist sensibility thinks this
is wrong, that submission is wrong, but that primal part of your brain knows
it's right."

He leaned in closer, then he ate a forkful of
crepe himself, chewing thoughtfully. He watched me, his blue eyes determined.

"You have to get over your self-judgment
and accept this for what it is. Submission for you is just the way you prefer
to experience sex. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no deep meaning to it.
It just turns you on."

"It shouldn't."

"There you go – that judgmental
Superego. Kate, D/s the way we will practice it is safe, sane, and most of all,
consensual. That's not just a slogan. I believe it. D/s is not illegal, it's
not damaging. It doesn't diminish you in any way. If you sign the contract,
we'll have lots of mind-blowing sex in the way that really appeals to us both
and you'll sleep really well at night when we part." He forked a piece of
strawberry and popped it in his mouth, chewing briefly. "Simple."

I took a drink of water, needing something to
distract me from that look of certainty on his face.

We finished the dessert and he described his
band members, how often they played and how their gigs at small venues kept him
busy most nights. But he had a few open slots a week and would like to see me
on those nights, either at his place or mine.

"But tonight, I want to come to your place
so I can see who you are when you're not with your family."

"I don’t
know
…" I was
incredibly aroused, but I was also incredibly afraid.

"If you want, no sex tonight. Just talk. We
can go over my personal limits and discuss yours. No touching and no sex unless
you initiate it."

"And if I sign an agreement? How much say
do I get in what happens between us?"

"When we're together? Sexually?
None
.
The purpose of the agreement is for you to give that power over to me to decide
what happens. The only out you have is your safe word, but once you use it,
that's it. We stop.
Full
stop. So don't use it unless you really mean
it. Don't use it unless what's happening is too much for you to bear. At first,
you can use 'yellow' as a sign you need to slow down or pause. Red will be only
for full stop, and once we're over the initial training. A submissive enjoys
some uncertainty, because it's arousing. But real fear and bad pain? That's
when you use your safe word. Other than that, other than your hard limits, you
leave everything up to me. What, how, when, where, how often."

"I shouldn't need a safe word, Drake, if
all we're going to do is fuck. Remember – no pain."

"I told you I'm not a sadist. But sex can
get intense. Bondage scenes can get intense. I'm not into pain, but a binding
can accidentally get too tight, or you can be emotionally overwhelmed. I will
punish you if you misbehave. Sometimes, punishment can be too intense."

"What kind of punishment?"

"We'll have to negotiate that."

"Lara said you'd likely spank me."

He smiled. "Does that upset you?"

"I'm not a child."

"Spanking is merely to reinforce dominance.
It's not supposed to be about hurting you."

"How can it not hurt?"

"It won't hurt too much, then."

"How do you know what too much is?"

"I'll show you. You'll tell me. I'll stop
at that point."

I shrank in my seat, disheartened. I didn't want
any spanking.

"Look, Kate, hopefully, if I do this right,
you'll never
need
to use a safe word but it's there just in case."

"I don't know about the spanking
part," I said. "We're going to have to talk about that."

"We will," he said, and stroked my
cheek. "I won't go too far for you. I want this. I don't want to make a
mistake with you."

I sighed. "You won't push me tonight?"

He grinned, his expression mischievous. "I
won't push.
Much
. But you have to know that I want you." He leaned
forward. "I want to fuck you tonight. I'd love to tie you up and have my
way with you, but I know it's too soon. You need to trust me before you can
give over your power willingly. But a kiss goodnight would be nice." His
blue eyes twinkled.

"I'll consider it."

He paid the check and stood, helped me out of
the booth and then escorted me to the coat check. He wrapped my coat around my
shoulders, taking the opportunity to nuzzle my neck. And I thought – that
was Drake. Constantly reminding me that he wanted me and found me desirable.
 
It
was,
he
was, irresistible.

CHAPTER NINE

We drove to my apartment building and the talk
was light, of the upcoming election my dad was hoping to win, of Drake's busy
schedule practicing with his band. I was still undecided as to whether I'd
invite him in. Part of me wanted to. Part of me wanted him to push me, to see
how much I could feel just having 'vanilla' sex with him.

Part of me was scared to death.

We walked up the steps to the building's entry
and stopped. He stood too close to me, of course, probably hoping to influence
me with his animal magnetism. I glanced up in his eyes and he just waited, his
eyes half-hooded, the slightest hint of a smile on his mouth. Finally, he
sighed.

"Kate, invite me in.
Trust
me. I
won't risk anything with you, given who you are and who your father is."

"You won't touch me?"

He bent down and tipped my chin up with a
finger. "I may touch you, but I won't force you to do anything. I don't
rape women, Kate. I don't like
real
resistance. Only the fun kind. The
play kind."