steven
The next morning, Sierra and I sat on the couch together with the contract.
As soon as she had stepped out of the tub last night, she’d basically fallen asleep. I dried her off as she wobbled back and forth on her feet, then carried her to the bedroom. We still had so much to talk about, but I’d figured that she needed to rest.
Too much stimuli at once would only make things worse.
“You ready?” I asked.
She cuddled up next to me and placed her head on my shoulder. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Her lips turned down. “But you seem so tired. Did you sleep last night?”
I bit back a yawn. “A little.”
Honestly, I had been awake for so long last night, hating myself for pushing her too far. I’d paced the living room so many times, wondering why I hadn’t been clearer and more direct with her because she was so new to all this.
“Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you last night,” I whispered, pushing some hair off her forehead.
She stayed quiet for a long time. “You didn’t hurt me. I was just scared.”
“But you shouldn’t have even been scared, Sierra. I was the one who did that to you.”
“It’s my fault.” She frowned. “Don’t be sad.”
“I can’t stress enough how important it is that you say your safeword if you’ve reached your limit.” I tucked some more hair behind her ear and tilted my head a couple of inches to the side. “If you keep it to yourself, then it breaks our trust.”
She twisted her body on the couch toward me and frowned. “Did I break our trust?”
I grimaced because I didn’t want her to feel bad about it and I wanted to stay with her, but I … I feared that I’d go too far again. That she’d let me go too far. And I would hurt her, physically or emotionally. And if I hurt her, then I’d hurt myself and our relationship.
“I did,” she whispered, eyes watering as she curled her arms around herself. “I’m sorry.”
“Just don’t do it again, love, okay?”
Her chin quivered. “Okay.”
After gently grasping it, I drew my thumb across her cheek. “Don’t cry. It’s not your fault. We both made mistakes. If I had been honest with you from the beginning, you wouldn’t have thought you had to do anything for me.”
“But still”—she sniffled—“I broke your trust. I didn’t mean to.”
Once I pulled her into my arms, I laid her head on my shoulder and rubbed her thigh. “I’m not scolding you. I don’t want you to feel bad about it, but I want you to understand that you must use a safeword so I know that you’re safe. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“Safewords are to keep us safe,” she said.
“To keep both of us safe,” I repeated, wanting to really make sure she understood. “If you don’t say something and I push you too far, it hurts both of us. I don’t want that to happen again, so let’s give you another word before your safeword for when I’m approaching your limit, okay?”
“What is it?”
“Our caution word will be yellow,” I offered. “And if you’d like to change unicorn to red—”
“I like unicorn,” she said with a small giggle.
“Unicorn it is.” I chuckled, grabbing the pen and contract from beside me and allowing Sierra to write her caution word and safeword on the blank lines. “Now, let’s finally get to explaining what this all means for you, okay, love?”
She leaned back and curled up next to me. “Okay!”
Two hours and twenty-five questions later, Sierra leaned back on the couch with the contract in her hands. I was happy to address all her questions because that meant she could understand our dynamic more. I’d much rather her understand completely instead of having another episode like what had happened last night.
It’d hurt my heart to see her so freaking sad.
“I have another question.”
“What is it, love?”
“So, will you tell me honestly if the necklace that you bought me is a collar?” she asked.
“Sierra—”
“You said we have to be honest with each other.”
“I didn’t buy you the necklace with the intention of using it as a collar. I bought it for you because, at the time, I felt about you in a way that I hadn’t felt about anyone else before. I was scared of telling you how I felt and thought that a necklace would do it all for me.”
For some reason, her face dropped. “Really?”
A low chuckle escaped my mouth. “Did you want it to be a collar?”
“Everyone kept saying it was.”
While she had wanted me to be honest, there was no harm in telling her a little white lie, especially if that was what she wanted it to be. Maybe it really had been a collar, but I hadn’t realized it. That wasn’t something I had done with anyone else either.
“Maybe it is,” I hummed, and her eyes grew wide with excitement. “Would you like that?”
Cheeks rounding, she bit back a smile. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Definitely,” she clarified, snatching the pen from me. “I’ll sign the contract right now if you admit that it’s a collar.”
“You’re not going to sign it today.” I chuckled. “I want you to think about it and make sure that you truly understand what this means. Ask your friends to read it over, if you’re comfortable with it. Heather’s mom is a lawyer, right?”
“I can’t ask her to look this over!” She scrunched her nose. “She’s like a mom to me.”
“All I’m asking is that you read it over a couple of more times then.”
After she nodded, I flipped to the last page, which included a list.
“And here, at the end of the contract, is a list of kinks that I’m comfortable with.” I handed her the pen. “I want you to circle, underline, or check all the kinks that you would like to explore and ones that you’re already comfortable with.”
She clicked the pen a few times, chewing on the inside of her cheek while staring down at all the kinks that I had marked myself. Finally, she pushed the pen onto the paper and marked the kinks off, one by one, until she reached the very end.
Her pen hovered over Breeding.
“Breeding?” she repeated. While her voice was soft, her nipples hardened underneath her shirt, making my dick stiff at the mere sight. She glanced up at me through innocent eyes. “Can you explain what that one means, Sir?”