31 Flavors of Kink Read Online Free PDF Page A

not a horny teenager. I’ve waited years for good sex; I can surely wait a little longer. I sit in our bedroom pretending to read my Kindle while he takes out the garbage. My eyes are surely glowing with need by the time he walks in. I lie back against the headboard, trying my best to seem casual. Inside I feel like stripping naked and placing a flogger in his hands like the cover of Training the Dom .
    He looks me over, then reaches for his laptop on the nightstand.
    I shoot up straight. “What are you doing?” I wince at the panicked edge to my voice.
    He smirks. “Just a little work.”
    My lips purse, and I bite my tongue. I will not beg for it!
    He chuckles and leaves the computer where it is. “You’re so cute, all eager and horny.”
    I scoff.
    His smile broadens. “Admit it. You’re hot for me.”
    He looks so proud that I laugh out loud. “Yes, I’m hot for your body. Now are you going to give it to me?”
    He plants a quick kiss on my lips, then starts to undress. “I’ll shower. You get ready.”
    Ready, how? I want him to direct me, like they do in the books. I want him to tell me to collect whatever toys, rope, equipment he wants to use, and to wait naked on my knees. But he doesn’t. He kisses my forehead and walks to the shower.
    I blow out a breath of air. What would Bethany Morris do? Well, if he won’t grab the role of Dom, then I’ll grab the role of sub. People in my group call this “topping from the bottom,” and it’s generally frowned upon. But I don’t care. I raise my chin. They’re not here right now.
    So I take out all our toys, including the few things I bought while he was away. I attach the new restraint system to the bed and lay out the two vibrators—Grapey and the pink one I’ve christened the Throbbinator—the handcuffs and ankle cuffs, a belt, and a bit of rope I dug out of the utility closet. I sit back and eye my work.
    The corners of my mouth lift in a smile. There. That should be enough of a hint, right? The bullet vibrator and remote will be a surprise. And the restraint system might give him a heart attack. I can’t wipe my grin away even though my stomach knots in anticipation.
    My gaze flies to the belt. Fear hits me, hard. This is very naughty, the shameful place inside me says. What if he changed his mind? What if I’m moving too fast? What if he sees this and thinks I’m a freak? What if I am a freak? Lots of people do this, yes, but what if we’re all freaks?
    I push my fears away with thoughts of Bethany and Mike. It worked for them.
    Fiction, you idiot, the rational part of my mind yells. I tell it to go to hell and let my libido take over.
    My hands are shaking, but I know this will go easier if I seem confident. So I fake it and shed my clothes. He’ll like if I’m naked. Maybe it’ll distract him from the depravity of my requests. I kneel on the bed, awaiting his arrival.
    As I stare at the toys, I fantasize about each one. The handcuffs, uncompromising against my wrists. My legs spread open wide and attached securely with the ankle cuffs. The vibrator inside me, a steady and unrelenting assault on my nerves. I picture the belt slapping against my backside. What would it feel like? Will it hurt as much as I think?
    I reach down and touch myself when I feel the rush of blood to my clit. I’m wet already. And this is the longest freaking shower he’s ever taken. What is he doing in there?
    Just when I contemplate taking a bat to his head caveman-style, he walks into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. I ogle his naked chest. He has such a nice body, especially for an overworked husband pushing thirty-three. Suddenly I’m self-conscious of my hanging parts and cellulite. I pull a blanket over my belly but try out my best flirty smile. He looks at me, then all the toys on the bed.
    His eyes widen. “Whoa.”
    What does that mean? Whoa good or whoa bad? His gaze flits between all the toys. It’s clear he’s overwhelmed.
    “Just