Charted Territory || BDSM

Chapter 8 ~ Pink

The drive back to Cameron's home was far less quiet than the last. Perhaps my decision to accept my desires exactly as they are rather than trying to judge them halted my inner dialogue, allowing me to speak more freely.

As we get cozy in his flat, his hands wander the soft, pink sweat suit that I'm wearing.

"What made you choose such an outfit?" he kisses my cheek a few times.

"Is there something wrong with it?" I feel his hand meet my bottom and I try to contain the warm flutters that are spreading throughout my body.

He says softly in my ear, "No, honey. But you know pink excites me."

"I don't know you well enough to know have known that but I'm glad to learn that about you."

"You're glad to learn that about me?" he leans down and pecks my lips, staring into my eyes with his exquisite look of dominance. "Tell me why."

"Might come in handy someday," my knees go weak as I stare back at him.

"Someday?"

"Someday."

He gets on his knees behind me and starts to lift up the underside of my bottom, "May I just talk about how impressed I am with your body?"

"Impressed? Interesting choice of words," I say snarkily. "You sound like a personal trainer, not a man trying to flirt with me."

"You're bold to sass me while my hand is on your ass," he smacks my right cheek hard.

"Ow," I hop up a little.

"Think twice next time," he kisses the spot he spanked.

"I'm just saying, you could find prettier words."

"Are you telling me what to do, little girl?" he stands to his feet wraps his arms around my waist from behind, and hangs on tight. I feel tiny. I feel beautiful. I feel safe yet exhilarated all the same.

"No, sir," my voice slips into a more polite tone the moment he leans into me from behind.

"Good," he kisses my cheek and delivers another hard swat to my right cheek in the exact same spot that's already stung. "You know if you were mine, you'd learn quickly not to say those sorts of things."

"I'm not yours?" the words slip out of my mouth before I can fully process them.

He chuckles and kisses my neck as he leans over me, "Did I miss the part where you gave me your yes?"

"I suppose you have a point."

Cameron laughs and shakes his head, "I don't think there's been a single moment with you, Alexa, where I do not have a good laugh. I'm not used to it."

"You're not used to it?"

"My exes did not have great senses of humor."

"Why not?"

"Who can really say," he pulls out a cutting board. "But my guess is that the need for structure has attracted some women who are equally as uptight. I mean, who wants a man who's all strict dominance and rigidity and no charm or humor whatsoever? You'd have to be a little boring yourself to want that."

He makes eyes at me after that little monologue. The man is capriciously sarcastic at times but it always feels like there's a small bit of truth in his words.

"Is this your way of telling me you're not really as strict as you seem?"

"Perhaps."

I ask a question, "Did you ever take a writing class in school?"