"I-I think I want to be on your end this time."
Connie had been eating a lovely, gooey with cheese frittata when Steven had blurted out such an interesting idea. Multiple emotions filled her at once, none of them tangible enough to grab and examine before she spoke.
They had just started to get good at this whole Dominance/submission kink stuff. Steven was stepping into the role like he was made for it, the secret fantasies he hated himself for were slowly coming to the surface. The way she satisfied him just by submitting was her ultimate release, Steven was her ultimate release. And he would satisfy her, he did every time.
She smiled amiably, encouraging, "Tell me more."
He was clearly shy, and maybe even a little annoyed with himself. Soft baby cheeks were suddenly painted with red, and then a heady glow. "I've been thinking about it more. Sometimes... sometimes I have dreams. Vivid dreams."
She raised an amused eyebrow and abandoned her food after a quick drink of her Bacardi juice whatever. Rubbing at his cheeks, she tilted his head up to look at her. "It's okay. I love having you as my Dominant, but you know what they say," She teased with an eyebrow wiggle.
Steven giggled and nipped at her hands, a little tension dissipating between the two actions of fondness. "I do not. Educate me."
He knew she was already a sucker for that line, and the grin that she'd had turned hungry. "Take what you dish."
Their eyes locked, food suddenly forgotten. Steven's thick lashes batted up at her twice before he mumbled, "I'm suddenly not hungry anymore..." He stood abruptly and started putting his meal away, overly careful in his endeavor to cling wrap his plate and move things that didn't need moving to fit the small plate into their large fridge.
It was actually a little ridiculous, especially paired with the deep crimson that was turning back into a blushing glow.
Connie came up behind him and scaled her hands up his chest, freezing him in his motion. "Talk to me. I'm here, and I promise I'm not judging you, okay?"
He sighed and shut the fridge. "That's not the problem. It almost doesn't matter if you're not judging me because I'm judging me. I feel like you enjoy me being dominant so much, and... I don't want to disappoint you."
Deciding the kitchen wasn't the best place to talk about this, Connie tugged him towards the bed and sat on his lap. His hands went to her hips to press longingly, to feel her muscles move under the suppleness of her shape. They stayed there, foreheads comfortably pressed together before she gathered her courage and mumbled, "I have fantasies too, you know."
His hands didn't stop exploring her hips, but they slowed by a tenfold. "Do... you wanna try them?" His heart raced against her breasts. It felt bigger than both of them, for some reason they couldn't understand.
She swallowed but nodded surely. "We have stuff, or at least one thing, I want to use on you." Removing herself from him was always difficult. He was so soft, so warm and she always ran uncomfortably cold. She cooled him off and he was her heated blanket, a furnace of a man hot with magic pulsing through him.
Speaking of pulsing...
As she neared the drawer, she felt her own stomach coil with the beginning of arousal. They'd discussed things here and there, and of course, they'd discussed if things were to happen to him. That was necessary, and when there was necessary in their relationship, well, that's what they did. She supposed their talks about him, though met with a dominant little chuff of faux malcontent, must have perused his mind enough for him to start wanting for it.
