“See, nowthat’sa kink I’ll never understand,” Cypress mused, slurring her words just enough that Mason and I exchanged a knowing look. Laurel’s latest conquest was notorious for being unable to hold her liquor.
“Like… Spanking? Ropes?Whips?!I don’t get that shit. Sex is supposed to be aboutpleasure,not violence.”
Mason Park and I snorted under our breaths in unison, and then glanced at each other in surprise.
“Oh? You’ve got a take on this, Lightbearer?” Cypress challenged, eyes narrowing. I didn’t think she liked me very much. Clearly, the feeling was mutual.
“I mean, there can be a very fine line between pleasure and pain,” I replied, regardless. “Some people enjoy dancing on that line, if you know what I mean.”
“I really don’t,” Cypress slurred, playing with a strand of Laurel’s hair. “I mean, what does anyone even get out of that?”
The group’s eyes were glued to me now, eager for a response now that I had inadvertently exposed myself as a connoisseur of kink.Well then.
“It depends on the person, and what role they’re playing within a dynamic,” I explained. “Plenty of people find the exchange of power and control arousing in and of itself.”
“Sure, sure,” Cypress replied. “Maybe if you’re the one in charge. I get the whole power trip, ego thing. But gods, what does the receiver get out of shit like that?”
I resisted the urge to smirk and expose myselfentirely,but still. This was something of a special interest of mine, andI didn’t mind educating my drunk ass acquaintances on the nuance of power dynamics in the bedroom. I took another sip of whiskey before continuing on with a casual shrug.
“There’s something to be said for the freedom you experience by giving up control for a few hours. Consciously—willingly—offering that up to someone else, letting them take the reins and call the shots. It’s a release of responsibility, in a way, and plenty of people find that to be a relief. As for the pain… Well, some folks just like the endorphin rush that comes afterwards. Others… true masochists, mostly, actually enjoy the sensation of pain. They get off on it.”
“Arken Asher, the Light Conduit with a dark side!” Laurel crowed with a wicked grin, lifting her wine glass in my direction. “Who knew you were so well versed in the kinky shit?”
I winked at her, and her grin widened.
“I mean, don’t knock things ’til you try them,” I replied airily, trying not to laugh as Cypress’ eyes widened in shock.
“Wait, you’re telling me you’vetriedthat shit?” Fahra asked with hushed excitement.
“Perhaps I have,” I mused, causing Laurel to burst into a fit of drunken giggles. “Perhaps I have… rather often.”
“Oho, the woman speaks fromexperience,” Jaf cajoled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
I snorted.
I was indeed speaking from experience. I had developed a taste for submission back when I was still at home in the Brindlewoods, when I was still dating Graysen. She had a bit of athingfor bossing me around, and over time that escalated to the bedroom dynamic between us. Since then, I had always liked sex that was rough. Demanding. Carnal.
I had indulged in a handful of casual encounters since coming to Sophrosyne, but they were few and far between. None had particularly scratched the itch right, either, thoughin all fairness, I had never really gone hunting for a dominant partner. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and it was rare that I met anyone who was attractive enough to distract me from the constant, devastating presence of Kieran Vistarii.
Gods, don’t think about him right now, Asher,I chastised myself.Not in this context.
It was too late, though. As the conversation continued, I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of bedroom dynamicsKieranwas into. I had a very strong feeling he was… my type. He had even joked about his preference in honorifics a while back. But it was impossible to tell sometimes, whether Kieran was playing around for the sake of my entertainment, or if there was an underlying kernel of truth in some of the lascivious shit that fell out of his mouth oh so casually. Embarrassingly enough, I had revisited that conversation in my mind on more than one occasion…
“What, do you make them call you Captain in bed, too?”
“I prefer Sir, actually.”
“Can I get you another drink?” Mason asked, interrupting my train of thought as he rose to his feet, shaking his own empty glass.
“Sure,” I replied, glancing up at him. There was a glint of intrigue in his dark eyes as he gazed back down at me. “Honey whiskey, if you don’t mind.”
“You’ve got it.”
As Mason wandered off in pursuit of our beverages, my mind drifted back to Kieran. Again. Images that I often tried to avoid flickered through my mind.
Kneeling before him. His hands around my throat. His mouth on my neck, my collarbone, my—
Gods. This wastrulythe last thing I needed to be thinking about. And yet my tipsy, errant mind kept imagining how he might react if I called himSir.What that rasping voice of hismight sound like, giving me commands. The thought alone had heat pooling between my legs. In the middle of a fucking tavern.