Owned (Office Intrigue Book 8) Nicole Edwards (classic english novels TXT) 📖

said for me making a go at being a submissive. In my mind, being a submissive was something far different than what I found it to be. I’d romanticized it, turned it into a fairy tale.

For the record, I still wanted that fairy tale, regardless of whether it made me a submissive or not.

I had genuinely liked Jake, and I thought perhaps we could explore the world of BDSM together. I was as clear as I could be about what I wanted, and he made efforts to meet my needs. Most failed, others I simply ignored. Roughly ten months in, I realized that, at some point, the roles had reversed. I had become the dominating partner, Jake the submissive. I had hated it. Immensely. And I suspected he had, too.

Whether we just hadn’t meshed or neither of us really knew what we wanted, it hadn’t mattered. Eventually we agreed that we were not going to make one another happy and had parted ways. Almost immediately, I returned to the website, desperate to find someone who could satisfy the needs that had been building over the year Jake and I were together. I went on two dates with two different men shortly after that. Neither had gone well. One guy had been ridiculously rude and demanding; the other could not stop saying the word pussy.

I gave up at that point, convinced it wasn’t for me. I’d romanticized the notion partly because of Ransom but mostly because I had relied on fictional storytelling as my basis. Hearing my brother talk about some of his encounters and reading about those happy-ever-afters with mind-blowing sex, I’d clearly set my expectations too high.

In my defense, it wasn’t like Ransom gave me the intimate details of his real-life rendezvous. We were close, sure. Not only was he my brother, he was my best friend, but there were still some things that were off-limits. However, I did enjoy hearing his thoughts on it. Not the gory details, but what he got out of a scene or an interaction with one of the many submissives he encountered.

When I told him what had happened with Jake, how we couldn’t find a middle ground that pleased us both, Ransom told me I would have to experience a lot of that before I found the one Dominant who would truly understand me and before I would find the Dominant I was eager to please.

Problem was, I didn’t want to weed through men in an attempt to find the one, Dominant or otherwise. While I enjoyed sex immensely, there were too many risks involved, and being promiscuous didn’t sit well with me. For one, I tended to lead with my heart, not my vagina. In turn, I looked for an emotional connection. How would I get through a handful of men that way?

The simple answer was, I wouldn’t. So, I had given up trying. If relationships required that much work, I had no interest in them.

However, I did still have an interest in understanding the intricate relationships that developed within the BDSM realm. And right here, beneath this very roof, were several I could probably learn a lot from.

One thing that was important to note, visiting websites and forums dedicated to BDSM was entirely different than witnessing it firsthand. For one, looking away wasn’t really … well, an option. Not because anyone was forcing me to participate. Like the times I’d watched Talon and his submissives. No, it was more like witnessing a car accident. Try as you might, not wanting to see the carnage went against human nature.

The same could be said for when a woman invited another man to sit on her husband’s lap.

Yep. That was exactly what happened when we were three-quarters of the way through dessert.

Brad and Leah Townsend—as well as their possession—had been on their best behavior throughout the meal. I didn’t know the possession’s name and had already forgotten his number, and I wondered if I was getting comfortable with the concept.

As it was, Talon and I were sitting directly across from Brad and Leah. Throughout the meal, I’d noticed them keeping a close eye on their object of interest. Evidently, Leah had been waiting for the right moment, and for whatever reason, she decided dessert was the perfect time to instruct her husband to push back his chair and urged the possession to straddle his lap, facing him.

Tame, I’d thought.

From my spot, I could see the hard lines of the shirtless possession’s back, the taut muscles. He had reddish-gold hair that was cut in a traditional manner, ivory skin that was lightly browned by the sun, and a smattering of freckles across his shoulders. He was a fairly decent contrast to Brad’s olive complexion and dark hair.

No one else at the table seemed at all bothered by the public display or the way the possession was now fondling Brad openly. I couldn’t see exactly, but every so often, Brad’s fingers would curl over those wide shoulders, pressing firmly, pulling him in as though touching wasn’t nearly enough.

I didn’t expect the heat that began churning in my veins. The sight was turning me on, but I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for it. Was it the fact it was two men? Admittedly, that was something I’d always been curious about. But curiosity had turned to captivation thanks to the interactions I’d witnessed between Talon and his possessions. Or because we were having a meal and this was clearly about to take an unexpected, not to mention raunchy, turn.

“Stroke him harder,” Leah instructed.

The possession’s biceps flexed as his hands continued to move between him and Brad. I forced myself to look away, glancing at Leah.

It was still difficult to wrap my head around the fact she was the Dominant in the relationship, but clearly she was.

I figured that was due to my own lack of experience in that realm. I’d never read a book about a Dominatrix, nor had Ransom ever really shared any stories of such encounters.