Free Secrets Dispatched by Raven McAllan

enough to be denied those I do get.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Sheesh, verbal diarrhea or what? Scratch that. Delete it from your mind, please, Sir.”
    “Not a chance, kitten. Are you telling me you don’t do self help? That you do your own self-denial?”
    “I’m saying nothing.” She mimed zipping her lips. “Not on that subject anyway.”
    “You think?” He had to prod her. She rose so beautifully to his teasing.
    “I know. Anyway, changing the subject somewhat, can I touch things?”
    He inclined his head. “If you ask nicely and tell me why, kitten.”
    Shane nodded and looked up above her head where a large metal ring and bar hung attached to a pulley system on the wall.
    “Shibari? I’ve never seen stuff in reality.”
    “Yes. Want to try?”
    She shook her head and once more created a cape with her hair. Ross muttered to himself. He’d meant to tie it up earlier, just to show her every facet of how they would play—if they ever did. His usually level mood was mercurial, to say the least. It seesawed between positive and negative thoughts with regards to whether they’d play or not, that it was a wonder he wasn’t giddy. Should he ask why? Ross decided to leave his questions until she’d asked all of hers. For one moment he wondered if it wise. From what he’d seen, she could ask questions until the cows came home, and probably would if she had an inkling it would save her from answering any herself.
    “Can I look in the cupboard?”
    “Help yourself, kitten. But remember, curiosity killed the cat.”
    She snorted. “And maimed the kitten?”
    “Let’s hope not. You’re welcome to look anywhere. I have no secrets from you.”
    The words, ‘not like you have from me’, hung in the air over them, like a black cloud of doubt. Once again Ross had the gut churning sensation of losing control, and it didn’t sit well on him. He was a Dom, for heaven’s sake, and should be in a position to take care of his sub, and sort out her worries and fears. The niggling voice telling him she wasn’t his sub, he ignored. She would be. She had to be.
    “Oh, hell…p, Sir, I hope I won’t soon with you.” Shane unlatched the floor to ceiling cupboard door and looked at the contents. “You like your floggers then?” She put her head into the cupboard and her voice became muffled. “There’s enough stuff in here to open a saddlery or an ironmonger. Why do you need it all?”
    “My crops, whips, blindfolds and shackles?” Ross asked. “To say nothing of my Shibari ropes? I like to be well prepared. I’m a simple soul, with simple tastes.”
    “Yeah, and the moon is made of cream cheese, Sir.” Shane closed the door and leaned on the varnished wood surface, her legs close together. “So, Sir, what would you say you’re a master in?”
    Ross studied her flushed face and noticed how her breasts heaved as she breathed erratically. Her skin was covered in a soft bloom, which he was sure was due to her arousal, and he’d bet she stood as she did to hide the evidence that confirmed it.
    “Rigging and flogging. Spanking and Shibari. Oh, and a little bit of orgasm denial.” He studied her face as her mouth opened in a silent gasp. “Or forced orgasm. It depends on my mood.”
    “A bit of a sadist, Sir?”
    “Not a bit, kitten.” He waited until her eyes widened and she shut her mouth and blinked. “Totally.” It was an exaggeration, but Ross had decided to go to the extremes of his tastes and see if it fazed her. “There’s something so beautiful and satisfying in knowing I’ve pushed my sub way past what she thought she’d accept and more, without her even thinking of safe-wording out. Pain is pleasure. Believe me.”
    “You reckon? There’s pain and there’s pain, Sir. I don’t do pain—or bondage.” Shane whispered something and Ross strained to hear what she said. It sounded like, ‘not any more’.
    “You will, kitten. Once you decide to trust me to know what you want