Willa’s eyes opened at that. She didn’t think that she could ever be in such a dynamic, be it from the bottom or Top, she valued her freedom far too much. 

“And what if the sub doesn’t like the rules?” She grumbled.

“In that case, in a healthy dynamic, they’d have a conversation about it, just like any other healthy relationship. Unless a sub gives over complete control there is always room for negotiation. And even if they DO give over complete control and are owned, the Dominant would always take the sub’s needs and wishes into account when deciding.”

The waitress swung her hips by, catching Willa’s eyes, and she missed the rest of what Matt was saying. 

“I am NOT suited to be a submissive and hang on his every word,” she chuckled to herself. 

Matt watched Willa’s distraction with calm eyes. He was an excellent observer and patient. She watched the waitress as she leaned over the table to refill their drinks with two different pitchers, asking with her glance if Willa wanted another whiskey. Willa shook her head and hovered her palm over her glass, covering it. She didn’t want to say no, she was nervous, but she also didn’t want to embarrass herself. She could feel Matt’s eyes on her, and blushed red from the tips of her toes. Willa wasn’t used to being watched so closely, she was rather used to being ignored for the most part at home. Being married was the loneliest she’d ever been in her life.

The waitress walked off to the kitchen to check on their orders, and Willa glanced at Matt under her lashes. He was so focused on her she felt like prey to his predator. With a smirk she realized that she didn’t mind this at all, in fact it was lovely to be so closely regarded, even if uncomfortable. 

He read her mind, and leaned across the table in her direction, which made her wriggle in her seat even more. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

It was as if he was asking all the questions in his mind and she could feel the lines running through his head behind his eyes. She started tapping and wriggling her toes, and pinched her thigh even harder. It calmed her, and she shook her head, lying. 

“Not in the least” she replied, and straightened her napkin in her lap.

His eyebrows rose and eyes glinted. He started to say something, but was interrupted with their plates being placed in front of them. 

Well, now she was entirely distracted and not even thinking about the food set before her. She glanced in his direction, thankful that he was looking down at his steak and not at her for once. He asked for more napkins and some more bread for the table, which Willa had completely forgotten about. She picked up her fork and knife and decisively sliced into the center of the steak to check doneness. It was absolutely perfect, tender and splitting easily under the pressure of her blade. 

“I won’t look at him, he’s reading me far too well.” She devoted herself to only experiencing the bite on her fork and nothing else, closing her eyes as her lips closed around the piece of meat. 

He busied himself on the other side of the table, seemingly having given up trying to intimidate her for a moment, chewing at his fries dipped in hot sauce. He sawed at his own steak, well-done, and she cringed a little to see him eating it and enjoying it, oh the horror! 

“You’ve killed your steak” she giggled at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone enjoy something cooked to death so much.” 

His eyes popped up mid-bite, and he paused a moment before grinning slyly and slowly sliding the meat off his fork with his teeth. His fingers clenched around the utensils in his hands, tight then loose then tight again. He chewed without breaking her gaze, and she could see that he felt the entire situation was right where he’d wanted it. They were in a dance, a battle of wills, daring one another further on without a word. 

“Killed it? It’s already dead!” He chuckled at her, slicing another piece and licking his lips before biting it. 

She rolled her eyes and he stopped smiling. 

“Of course it’s dead. I meant, you destroyed it by cooking it so well! Steaks are meant to be moist and juicy, not a hockey puck. Unless you just like consuming sporting goods on the regular.” Willa’s turn to smirk, which stopped with his next words. 

“So you like blood? I thought you might.” His words surprised her, but he wasn’t wrong. She’d always found blood to be absolutely magical, and loved playing with how it moved. Warm and wet and fresh it tended to be so delicate, painting across skin in webbing puddles until it started to congeal and harden. Even then she’d roll the little dried bits between her fingertips, pressing it under her fingernails, then scraping it back out, then back again. She liked looking like a murder scene, playing with needles pressed just enough to leak red from her skin, scratching across like a kitten had gotten too exuberant in play. 

“Blood is exquisite” she started, “I’ve always been fond of it. Too bad that it stays inside people most of the time, actually.” They both laughed, and she relaxed a little. No one had ever asked her about anything like this, and she wasn’t sure it was a bad thing, to talk about it. Why avoid that which makes one happy, after all? 

Matt cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. “Have you ever let anyone else make you bleed?” 

Of course she hadn’t. Except in medical situations, and she knew that wasn’t what he was referring to. 

“Women typically aren’t afraid of a bit of blood. We see it regularly, after all. Enough blood leaves my body every month that any man would get light-headed.” She broke his gaze and took another bite, filling her mouth so that she couldn’t keep talking. She felt like she was giving too much away, and yet she was so very curious. Curious about him, those he knew, the lifestyle he spoke of, everything. She was voracious and impossible to satisfy, and everyone she’d met so far through dating apps bored her to tears. 

“I wouldn’t get light-headed. I’d bathe in blood if I could.” He leaned across the table and whispered it quietly. 

Her eyes snapped up to his, to gauge his sincerity. He didn’t break her gaze for a moment, nodding almost imperceptibly.

He kept his position and tone, “In fact, I’d love to make YOU bleed, girl.” 

The flushes and blushing of the date so far, the conversations before, all of it, were put to shame with the color that inflamed her now. She could feel her thighs break out in goosebumps and her panties instantly soaked. Willa was stricken silent in one blow, and he didn’t even have to raise his hand. Her hands trembling, she put down her fork and knife. 

“I thought you might respond like that” he sat back with a satisfied look on his face, and she hated him for it. Hated but loved the reactions her body was having. She could feel her nipples growing harder in her bra, slowly scraping excruciatingly slowly across the fabric as they went from soft to alert. 

“I didn’t say anything!!” She hissed at him, then immediately regretted it. She couldn’t let him know that he was getting to her, although she didn’t want it to end. 

“You didn’t have to.” 

Willa’s heels hit the bottom of the booth as she scooted them in, getting ready to excuse herself for the bathroom, just to compose herself. 

“I’ll, I’ll be right back” she stuttered, and got up, feeling the dampness between her legs as the fabric caught fresh air. It was absolutely embarrassing how he was getting to her, and she wouldn’t forgive herself for it.