Page 6 of Caging Cessie (Submissives of Rawhide Ranch #20)

And wasn’t that part of the problem right there—her first instinct was to give the answer he wanted, rather than her truth. She wasn’t communicating with him, and lack of communication was a death sentence in a relationship, BDSM or otherwise.

She was fucking this up and she didn’t know how to stop herself.

Leon’s hand shifted from her shoulder to the back of her neck. Fingers sliding under her hair he gripped her neck lightly and Cessie sighed in relief. His touch grounded her in a way nothing else did.

And for a moment the years rolled away, and she was back to the place she’d been when they first agreed to an exclusive Dom/sub relationship.

“You have a plan,” she said, studying him with narrowed eyes. “A reason for coming here instead of renting a kinky Air BnB.”

They’d given up their Las Palmas membership months ago, but there were several good kink-friendly and even kink-educational rentals and bed and breakfasts up and down the California coast.

“Maybe my plan is to try out being your Daddy.” He arched a brow.

“ Dance for your Papi ,” she sang, adding a little shoulder shimmy as she uncrossed her legs.

His laugh melted some of her tension and she went back to studying him.

“But this is too straightforward for you.”

Leon said nothing, only raised his brows but she felt the shift in him — the tension easing, the way he angled himself closer. She was right, he had a specific plan, and he was relieved that she’d figured that out.

“Littles are a very specific type of power exchange, and I think we’d enjoy that level of submission, but you’re too much of a sadist to limit yourself to spankings and softer toys.”

“Says the masochist.”

Cessie hooked her feet around the legs of her chair, bare toes braced on the floor. “Who me? Now excuse me I was trying to figure out your diabolical plan.”

He grinned at her. “Are you trying to run a differential diagnosis on our time at a BDSM club?”

She grinned back, and this felt so damn good. This is what it should be like all the time—them together, smiling, laughing.

Aroused.

His hand on her neck and her spread legs weren’t overtly sexual, and yet she felt herself start to slide into submission.

“Is lack of trust a symptom or a side effect?” She was trying for teasing, but it was the wrong thing to say.

Leon’s face hardened, his expression shuttered.

Cessie squeezed her eyes closed. Yet another thing she’d fucked up. Another time she’d been wrong. She didn’t realize she’d instinctively started to close her legs until his hand dropped from her neck to her thigh.

“Cessie, we both know what needs to happen next if we’re going to do anything else.”

She was staring at his big hand on her bare thigh. She nodded as anxiety and need warred for control of her emotions.

“But you don’t have to do this. It’s always, always your choice.”

Her heart felt like it was going to crack and crumble away.

“And if you can’t do it tonight but want to try again tomorrow, we will.”

At that she looked up. “We will?”

He didn’t smile, but his eyes sparkled, crinkling just a little at the corners. “Yes, baby. Always.”

She wanted to tell him how desperately she loved him and how terrified she was of losing him.

Of how she knew she was spiraling and losing control, to the point she was worried it wouldn’t just be her personal life that collapsed, but it would bleed into her professional life.

The hospital was the only place she felt competent and sure of herself anymore.

“We can leave now if you want. It’s been a long day.”

It had been—flying from L.A. to Missoula, Montana, followed by the nearly hundred mile-drive to the Ranch. Once they’d checked in, she’d taken a nap while Leon went on a walk. Coming to the Dungeon tonight was the end of a very long day.

But it was his assurance that they could try again, that he wasn’t giving up on her, that allowed her to feel safe enough to stand.

Cessie knew this man—her lover, friend, and Dom—well enough to see the hint of defeat in his posture as she rose from her chair. He thought she wanted to leave. To once again avoid and delay the intimacy of BDSM, despite them both desperately needing the connection.

Instead, she moved to face him, looking down at his familiar face. She cupped his cheek, and the way his eyes closed and he swallowed for just a moment made her feel powerful.

She let herself bask in it, in the power born of seeing the effect her touch had on him. And then she willingly, eagerly, transferred that power to him. Cessie leaned over and kissed him, a bare brush of lips.

The kiss was their signal. A chaste, innocent touch the starting point for things dark and depraved. Usually, he was the one who kissed her, silently telling her the scene had started now, but tonight it was her turn.

Leon’s eyes snapped open, the heat and leashed control she saw in the depths of his gaze both terrifying and wonderful.

Cessie let her hand drop from his cheek and then slowly sank to her knees, legs spread and head bowed.

“Hello, Master, I’ve missed you.”