I took a deep breath, but her lips tilted up into a tentative smile. “I feel silly with the three of you kneeling in front of me.”
I bent forward to press my cheek against her stomach and closed my eyes for a long moment.
“Maybe I want to be on my knees for you, malyshka.”
Eva’s lips twisted into amusement. “It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? It’s not what I want, but that doesn’t matter, does it?”
“What do you want, kitten?” Tristan asked, and she looked down at him like she was lost.
“I don’t—I—” I hated the uncertainty, that she didn’t trust us enough to be vulnerable, that she didn’t know she was safe with us.
Eva closed her eyes and stroked her fingers through my hair again.
I wanted her any way I could have her. I suspected I knew what she needed, but if I interrupted now, she’d never voice it herself. And I needed her to, or I’d never be comfortable taking control.
She took a shuddering breath. “Can we do this on the couch, maybe? I’m beyond uncomfortable with all of you on your knees like this.”
The three of us sprang to our feet.
“I don’t forgive you,” she said softly. “We’re not together. I just—we all want this, and we’re adults, and it doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.”
“Eva—” Tristan’s voice broke.
“Those are my terms, take it or leave it. It’s what I want.”
She was protecting herself, building walls, trying to take what she wanted while keeping her heart safe.
And fuck, I couldn’t blame her, not after what we’d done.
Cole’s expression showed his devastation. Tristan’s too.
“Okay,” I said quietly, and her eyes widened. I wasn’t going to say no to Eva, even if it broke my heart to do this.
Tristan scooped her up into his arms and settled her onto his lap, her calves draped over Cole’s thighs. I sat on the other side of Cole, frowned at her bare feet, then snatched a blanket off the other couch and spread it over her.
We’d talked a little bit about a safeword, about letting me take control, but this was different, heavier.
“You know I’m a Dom,” I began. “I take pleasure from control—total control. I’m relatively sure Cole and Tristan are dominant as well, although they seem to know fuck all about taking care of a sub.” I glared at the two of them until the weight of my stare made them both squirm.
“They didn’t do so bad,” Eva said with a slight smile. “I did some research on the Internet,” she continued, her cheeks flushing that adorable pink that made me want to bend her over the couch and remind her who she belonged to at the same time. “In a real BDSM relationship, the two parties—” her eyes cut to Cole and Tristan— “all of the parties have to negotiate and consent to the scene.”
She smoothed her hands down over her borrowed sweatpants. “And the sub has all the power, right? Because she—they—can end the scene whenever they want.”
“It’s a little bit more complex than that,” I answered. “Yes, you can end the scene whenever you want. Your trust isa gift, and a good Dom won’t abuse it. But power ebbs and flows—it’s more like a dance than an absolute.
“Let’s set some ground rules for tonight, and then we can figure out the rest of this as we go along,” I continued quietly, not quite willing to make this as meaningless as Eva wanted. “Are you two familiar with the stoplight system?”
Not surprisingly, Tristan nodded. Cole shook his head.
“It’s a way of checking in,” I continued. “Red means stop. Full stop. Scene ends. Aftercare for everyone involved, especially Eva. Yellow means slow down. We’ll check in, pause if we need to, try something different. And green means go. Full speed ahead.”
Eva nodded, her eyes wide. I loved that she’d dropped that mask of composure. Her trust was a fucking gift, and I intended to treasure it.
“We’re all going to check in with each other,” I said, eying Cole and Tristan severely. “Not just Eva. Do you understand?”
The two young men grinned widely. “Sure thing, Coach,” Tristan said, saluting me sarcastically.
“Fuck you,” I snarled before I could stop myself, aghast I’d said something like that to a student.