No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty Two

The I love you that seemed to teeter on her lips all day every day was plaguing her every thought. Although she desperately wanted to give him what he needed from her, she just wasn’t ready.

But what she could give him, she’d decided earlier that day, was the complete and total submission that she knew he must be craving from her. Nate was not an easy dominant – he wasn’t a man that would be entirely satisfied with a simple exchange of power. What they’d done so far had been lovemaking, she could easily admit to herself, and to Nate, that it wasn’t what either of them really needed at this stage.

She burned with the need for his complete and utter possession – the kind that they’d skated around just before the end had begun, the kind that was dark, and raw. The kind that made her feel like she really did belong to him.

But she knew he wouldn’t push for that, he didn’t feel like he could, after everything. He hadn’t mentioned anything about submission really, since before he’d found about Molly.

He’d wanted to go to the club then, to Asylum, but that was obviously a little more dangerous with all of the underground workings happening with Tourniquet, and whoever they were using as a mole inside the club.

She’d have to approach him about it, she knew, she just couldn’t work out how exactly she could do that.

He emerged from the bathroom doorway – droplets of water trailing over his brawny chest, with a large white towel wrapped low on his hips. Her breath caught at the sight of such raw, virile masculinity. She leant forward onto the kitchen island counter, not even bothering to hide her leering appraisal of his powerfully graceful physique as it stalked towards her.

“What you looking at, kitten?” he said huskily.       

“Pure, unadulterated sex I think,” she murmured, and he chuckled in response.

He leaned on the other side of the counter, his lips inches from her own as he stroked her cheek softly.

“No, that’s you,” he whispered, “You’re the sexiest woman alive – even in a potato sack, you still would be the most beautiful ... incredible ... creature ... on ... the ... planet.” His words were punctuated with soft, delicate kisses to her sensitive lips.

“Nobody uses potato sacking anymore ...” she teased quietly.

“Infuriating ... sarcastic ... creature,” he amended, before laughing softly – his broad chest vibrating with the sniggers, “What do you want to do tonight? We could order a pizza ... or watch a movie ? Whatever you want?”

She knew that this was her opportunity - that if there was ever a moment to bring this up then this was it - but she kept swallowing back the words as they lingered on her lips. She just didn’t know what she could say.  

Nate saw her hesitation, and he looked at her quizzically.

“What is it babe?”

“I think there’s something that we really need to discuss,” a blush crept up her cheeks, “And I don’t really know how to start ...” she took a deep breath and forged ahead, “About the subbing ...”