N is for... (Checklist Book 14) by L DuBois (best classic books TXT) 📕

whole body slumping, as she took heavy breaths.

His fingers worked the rope, untying the knot and then helping her ease up until she was kneeling on the chair. Daniel cupped her cheek, tipping her face up.

“Now it’s time to talk about your nipples…and what name I’m going to call you.”

Chapter 10

Daniel nudged Autumn off the chair, steadying her as she stood. He kept her there only long enough for him to take a seat, then tugged her down so she was once more kneeling, but now straddling his lap.

He had a very nice view of her slightly pink breasts.

The lighting outdoors wasn’t ideal for differentiating colors of flesh, but even if they’d been in a pitch black room he would have been able to feel the effects of the flogging thanks to the warmth in her skin.

Cupping her breasts, he thumbed her nipples, indulging himself for a moment by simply playing with her pretty tits, before raising his gaze to her face.

“Arms up, behind your head,” he murmured.

She obeyed instantly.

“One of our items is name change. I’d planned to ignore it, but now I have a better idea.”

She looked down at him, soft and open. Her lips were slightly parted and he could see the tip of her pink tongue. Her lower lip was damp—she must have bit or licked it while he was playing with her nipples.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her. “But this isn’t about what you like, is it?”

“No, Sir.”

“It’s about what you need.”

He was walking a very thin line with what he was about to do. He wouldn’t have risked it with anyone else. But Autumn needed this, and he needed to make her feel whole, see herself for the amazing, beautiful woman that she was.

Autumn feared her own needs. In a way he thought she probably hated herself, though she hadn’t come out and said it as baldly as that. But that was the heart of her fear.

He knew something about hating oneself, and a whole lot about fear. He needed to help her with this the same way he needed to give her pleasure. He knew that one person couldn’t fix another, but he could, and would, help her.

“For the rest of the weekend I will not be using your name.” He made his words hard and cold. “I will be referring to you as what you are.”

Autumn went still.

“Pet. Slut. Whore.” The words were cold, cruel, and she flinched away from him.

He gave her a minute, but she didn’t say anything.

“Maybe I’ll be kind and let you pick what I call you.” He pinched one nipple, twisting until she hunched her shoulders, instinctively trying to break his hold.

“No,” he snapped, releasing the nipple only to slap her breast.

She flinched and whimpered, and the dark place inside him that needed this—needed to cause pain—crowed in delight.

He was a monster in an elegant suit. But he was a monster who was also very self-aware, and totally in control.

“I hate those words, Daniel.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she’d turned her face away.

“Are they hard limits?” He didn’t remember seeing them on her checklist.

“No. I just…If I hear a Dom using any of those words, I put him in the ‘never scene with him list.’”

“You avoided the issue, rather than formally put them on your hard limit list, or discuss them in scene negotiation.”

“Yes.”

When he touched her cheek, she looked at him. Tears gathered on her lashes.

This was the critical moment, where he had to show her that nothing would change how he saw her. Would make her any less.

Maybe he needed her to understand that, believe that, because he needed a reassurance that he wasn’t really a monster. In his case it would be false comfort.

She looked at him with such vulnerability that he knew the next thing he said would be critical. That if he misspoke he could trigger an emotional landmine.

Daniel winked. It wasn’t a sensual wink, but a comedic, overblown thing where he scrunched up half of his face.

Autumn sputtered out a surprised laugh.

“You know what they say, sticks and stones may break your bones.” He cupped her waist, squeezing gently. “But words will cause deep psychological trauma and create weird sexual kinks.”

Autumn dissolved into laughter, whooping with amusement. He laced his hands together behind her back to brace her and stop her from tumbling off the chair.

And through it all, she kept her hands behind her head, arms raised with her elbows out.

That was telling.

More specifically it was telling him that the laughter hadn’t drawn her all the way out of the scene. Hopefully it had been a brief emotional release, enough of one that she would be able to handle what he had planned.

And if she wasn’t ready, they’d keep circling around it. He could be patient when needed, and Autumn deserved that.

He waited for her laughter to fade down to a smile before he spoke again.

“You might not like those words, at least in the abstract,” he said lightly. “But you’ll like them when I use them.”

She swallowed, but didn’t look away.

“I didn’t like it when you called me a slut before,” she whispered.

“Was it my words or my tone?”

“Both. Mostly your tone.”

“Then I see no reason not to refer to you as my pretty little pet.”

He used the cultured, formal voice that had, through a lot of hard work, become his normal speaking voice. She didn’t react, so he kept going.

Daniel stroked her side several times. “Or perhaps I’ll call you my needy little slut.” He slid his hand down her belly, and let his thumb briefly rest on her thong, over her pussy, just touching, no caress or stimulation.

“Or my submissive whore.” He could see the way her stomach muscle clenched in response to even that small stimulus.

“Damn it,” she whispered.

“Talk to me.”

“It’s…It’s hot when you say it, but…”

“But it still makes you nervous. That’s fine.” With a nudge he directed her off his lap. “Spread