“And do I eat nekkid?” she asked with a grin.
“Oh yes,” he murmured. “I can’t imagine a better meal than to have you nude in front of me. You’ll eat from my hand. I’ll see to your every need.”
She shivered at the husky thrall of his voice. She’d been completely his in Europe but now she realized she’d only gotten a taste of his dominance. They’d still been on the cusp of something new, still finding their way, and he’d likely held some of himself in reserve until she was more comfortable with him.
“Tell me something, Max. Is my submission contained only to the bedroom or do you expect me to cede control to you in all aspects of my life?”
He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, teasing it to a rigid peak. “You’re asking a lot of questions, and I’m unsure whether you’re prepared for the answers.”
“I want your honesty,” she said. “I’m not some fragile little flower who wilts because your answers aren’t all pretty and sweet. You told me not to ask if I wasn’t prepared for the answer. I have a lot I want to ask.”
“Fair enough.”
A buzz sounded and Max got to his feet. He rubbed his hand underneath her chin and slid his thumb across her cheek. “Hold that thought while I collect dinner and the things I ordered for you. We’ll discuss whatever you like while we eat.”
Callie waited as he went to answer the buzzer. She heard him say in low tones that he’d go down to get it. She smiled. He really didn’t want to risk her being seen by anyone but him.
A few moments later, he walked back into the living room carrying several boxes. He dumped them next to the couch and then left once more only to return with a rolling cart bearing several covered plates.
He parked it in front of the couch and set to work taking the covers off and preparing plates of the steaming pasta. The aroma tantalized her and her stomach growled in response. There was fresh bread—her weakness. Fresh parmesan and a bottle of chilled wine in an ice bucket.
Max settled on the couch next to her but placed the plate on the coffee table.
“I want you on your knees in front of the couch. So I can feed you better.”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment she hesitated as she tried to picture what he’d asked her to do.
“Callie?”
Slowly she sat forward and then slid to her knees on the floor at his feet. She turned as he too sat forward, his thigh brushing the side of her face.
“Perfect,” he said, approval purring in his voice.
He held a glass of wine to her mouth and carefully tilted it so she could take a sip. Then he pulled it away and forked a small bite of the pasta. Raising it to his mouth, he gently blew and touched it to his lips before lowering it and offering it to her.
There was something amazingly seductive about the way he made sure the food was perfect for her. He was careful to keep the bites the right size and he never offered it to her without testing it himself.
His gaze held hers, smoky and seductive, never leaving her face as he placed another bite to her lips. He waited as she savored the decadent morsel and then offered another sip of wine.
He was remarkably patient, never tiring as he held the fork to her mouth. At one point she smeared a bit of the sauce on the corner of her mouth and when she would have licked it away, he put his hand out to stop her and then lowered his mouth to swipe at the spot with his tongue.
Warm and rough, his tongue slid across her mouth, pausing at the corner where he lightly lapped and sucked until the sauce was gone. A shiver skirted down her spine. Her body leapt to attention and her pulse sped up, jumping at her pulse points.
When he pulled away, his breath huffed jerkily and his nostrils flared. His eyes glittered with awareness, and his hand shook just a bit as he pulled it away to fork another piece of the pasta.
He raised the wineglass and pressed his lips to the same place where her mouth had been. He took a long swallow before lowering it to the coffee table.
“More?”
She shook her head wordlessly.
He didn’t take a single bite until she was sated. She’d been so mesmerized by the experience that they hadn’t spoken. She hadn’t asked any questions, nor had he offered explanations.
Only when she assured him with a nod that she’d had enough did he refill his plate and begin to eat. After taking only one bite, he put his fork down and slid his hand through her hair. Then he gently tugged until her cheek lay on top of his lap and her head was cradled against him.
He rubbed her cheek, a silent directive for her to remain as he’d positioned her and then he resumed his meal.
They didn’t speak and yet the connection between them was powerful. Instead of being awkward, the silence was comforting. She felt close to him. Like they’d shared an intimacy much like making love.
There was a strange, achy tightness to her chest and yet there was also a sense of homecoming, like this was right after so long being wrong.
Finally she was back where she most needed to be. She closed her eyes as she rested against his thigh and sighed contentedly.
A moment later, his hand cupped her head and stroked over her hair. Then he reached down for her hand and helped her to her feet. She rose to stand before him, a little self-conscious as he stared at her nude body.
“Come sit with me,” he said as he steered her toward the overstuffed chair across from the couch.
He sat first and then pulled her onto his lap until she was cuddled against his chest.
“Now ask these questions you want answered,” he said. “We’re full, I’m holding you. I’m a happy man.”
She smiled ruefully as his fingers glided over her breast and he toyed with one nipple as he awaited her response. The man made it hard to want anything other than for him to hold her and to keep touching her.
“Have there been other women like me?”
He laughed softly. “Now there is an easy question to answer. No, there has never been another woman like you. I think it’s safe to say that you’re one of a kind, Callie.”
She pulled away just enough that she could look into his eyes. “I meant women that you’ve had a dominant/submissive relationship with. When did you know that this is what you wanted, or have you always known? What happened to the other women?”
Max sighed. “I’ve had several relationships, not all of which have been as a dominant to the woman’s submissive. The ones I’ve been the happiest in and the most content, however, were with a submissive woman. I’ve found those to be the most rewarding.
“As to what happened to those women, the relationship simply didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
He looked vexed by her question. For a long moment he stared away and then finally he looked back at her. Something dark flashed in his eyes, something that sent a little shiver pricking up her nape.
“They weren’t willing to go as far as I wanted them. But more than that, I think I recognized that I had selfish reasons for wanting their submission. It was all about me. How they could please me. It was no wonder I found no satisfaction in those relationships. And then you…”
“What about me? Why was I different? Why am I different?”
“Because it was no longer about me when I was with you,” he said. “It wasn’t a game, some idle pleasure. It wasn’t something I wanted. It was something I needed. I needed you. I needed your submission. Not simply because it would please me. But because I wanted to take care of you, cherish you, protect you and love you. I wanted to please you more than I wanted to be pleased.”
His answer lay heavy between them. Her heart thudded more forcefully against her chest. He sounded so…impassioned. Like every word had been wrenched from the very depths of his soul.
Max swallowed and blew out his breath. “We talked about why I left. Why I stayed gone. The fact that we fell so hard and heavy and fast. The truth is, from the moment I met you, Callie, my thoughts about you were dark and all-consuming. I pushed you hard and you took everything I gave you and wanted more. That scared the hell out of me. It seemed too…”
“Too what?”
“Perfect. Too damn perfect.”
Her brows drew together in confusion.
“I looked at you and saw someone who was perfect for me in every way. Someone who met my needs. All of them. But there was so much more I wanted from you and I had to make a decision whether to trust that you were that perfect person for me or whether I wanted to back away before I became too emotionally involved with you.”
It sounded cold. Clinical. Harsh even. She stared pensively at him for a long time, mulling over his words. Despite the bald way he put it out there, she sensed vulnerability.
“So you backing away was self-preservation.”
He rubbed a hand over his face and then through his hair. “Yes. I suppose you could call it that. I needed time to evaluate. I needed to be sure that you would be happy in the relationship I would demand.”
“You’re an idiot, Max.”
He blinked in surprise and his brows drew together as he glared at her.
“You men never get it right. Half the time you don’t think at all and then the times you do think, you think too much.”
“Care to explain my idiocy?”
“Did it never occur to you to talk to me? I don’t know, maybe ask me if I was comfortable in our relationship? Maybe lay out what more you wanted from me and gauge my reaction?”
“I was worried we moved too fast, that we jumped without thinking and were caught up in the moment. I thought we needed distance so we could think with clear heads.”
“Now you’re calling me an idiot,” she muttered.
He sighed. “I’m doing no such thing, Callie. And if it makes you feel any better, I knew I’d made a huge mistake. I was miserable without you, and the truth is, even if you weren’t comfortable giving me all I demanded from you, I wanted you badly enough to compromise. I swore to myself I’d take whatever you were willing to give.”
She touched his cheek, grazing the tips of her finger lightly over his jaw. “I would have given you anything, Max.”
“Have I ruined it then? Will you punish us both by withholding what we both want?”
“I’m not vindictive. I try not to be. You hurt me. We both know that. I’m still dealing with that but I’m working on it. I want to be happy. I’m tired of feeling sad. I want to be happy with you.”
“I’ll make you happy, Callie.”
She lifted her mouth to his and gave him a soft kiss. His hand glided up her leg, over the curve of her bu**ocks and up her waist until he cupped her breast.
“Tell me what you want,” she whispered. “How much of my submission are you demanding?”
His eyes glittered as she pulled away. He stared back at her until she burned under his gaze. “Everything. I want everything. Nothing less.”
Chapter Fourteen
Max never took his eyes off Callie as she digested his blunt declaration. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shy away. Nor did she appear to have an extreme reaction.Her expression didn’t change but she cocked her head to the side and stared at him like she was sliding into his thoughts and giving them serious consideration.
“Define everything, Max. Are you being dramatic to make a point? I need you to be exacting here. This isn’t the sort of thing we can afford to misunderstand.”
He almost smiled. So typically Callie. Blunt. To the point. She wasn’t a shy woman. He’d been afraid that he’d ruined some of that spirit, but it was there. Maybe beaten down, but it stirred beneath the shadows and slowly flickered to life.
“What do I mean by everything? It’s simple and yet complicated. You asked before if you were to submit to me only in the bedroom, so in essence you were asking if it was narrowed to sex. My answer is no.”
He thumbed over her nipple, unable to keep from touching her. He’d never grow tired of feeling her against him. After so many months, it was like coming home to have her in his arms. He could sit here all night and simply touch her and smell her.
“I want you to be mine. You’ll be mine to protect. To cherish. To love. To take care of. To provide for. I want to dress you, spoil you, lavish you with fine food. Trips to Europe, the world. I want you to trust me enough to allow me to make the decisions in our relationship. To cede absolute control to me in the bedroom. To give your body to me and only me. But it’s not about you giving and me taking. It’s not about pleasing me to the exclusion of all else. Maybe it was like that in my other relationships. I want ours to be about me pleasing you every bit as much as you please me. I want to do things for you. Everything for you. I want to give you things. I want this kind of relationship for what it can do for you as well as me. For the things I can give to you.
“So, no, I don’t want it confined to the bedroom, but I want our relationship to be where you can push back when I go too far. But only then. Once we establish complete trust, it will be easier. You’ll know that I won’t want to do anything that isn’t in your best interests.”
Her brows bunched and she stared intently at him. Her expression was pensive, and he knew she’d absorbed every single one of his words and even now was turning them over and over in her mind. He could see the questions in her eyes.
He smiled. She wanted to argue. To protest. But she tempered the bubbling protest as she continued to study him.
“It takes a very strong woman to submit to a man,” he said as he fingered a strand of her hair. “What attracted me to you was your beauty and your laughter. I’ll never forget the first time I saw you in Italy. You took my breath away. But later, it was your fiercely independent spirit that kept me with you. Even as you submitted, your will remained. Your true self was unaltered. You retained all the qualities I most admired, and yet you offered your submission to me so sweetly it made me ache.”