Love Me Like You Do

chapter 8

The first thing I notice is the smell; leather, wood, polish with a faint citrus scent. It’s very pleasant, and the lighting is soft, subtle. In fact, I can’t see the source, but it’s around the cornice in the room, emitting an ambient glow. The walls and ceiling are a deep, dark burgundy, giving a womb-like effect to the spacious room, and the floor is old, old varnished wood  I walk further into the room, and he follows me. The feathery thing has me intrigued. I touch it hesitantly. It’s suede, like a small cat-of-nine-tails but bushier, and there are very small plastic beads on the end.

Shravan: It’s called a flogger,

Shravan’s voice is quiet and soft.

I’m in shock. My subconscious has emigrated or been struck dumb or simply keeled over and expired. I am numb. I can observe and absorb but not articulate my feelings about all this, because I’m in shock. What is the appropriate response to finding out a potential lover is a complete freaky sadist or masochist? Fear… yes… that
seems to be the over-riding feeling. I recognize it now. But weirdly not of him – I don’t think he’d hurt me, well, not without my consent. So many questions cloud my mind. Why? How? When? How often? Who? I walk toward the bed and run my hands down
one of the intricately carved posts. The post is very sturdy, the craftsmanship outstanding.

shravan: Say something

Shravan commands, his voice deceptively soft.

Suman: Do you do this to people or do they do it to you?

His mouth quirks up, either amused or relieved.
“People?” He blinks a couple of times as he considers his answer.

Shravan: I do this to women, who want me to.

I don’t understand.

Suman: If you have willing volunteers, why am I here?

Shravan: Because I want to do this with you, very much.

Suman: Oh,

I gasp. Why?

I wander to the far corner of the room and pat the waist high padded bench and run my fingers over the leather. He likes to hurt women. The thought depresses me.

Suman: You’re a sadist?

Shravan: I’m a Dominant.

His eyes are a scorching gray, intense.

Suman: what does that mean?

I whisper.

Shravan: It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me, in all things.

I frown at him as I try to assimilate this idea.

Suman: Why would I do that?”

“To please me,” he whispers as he cocks his head to one side, and I see a ghost of a
smile.

Suman: To please you?

I think my mouth drops open. Please shravan Malhotra. And I realize, in that moment, that yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. I want him to be damned delighted with me. It’s a revelation.

Suman: How?

My mouth is dry, and I wish I had more wine. Okay, I understand the pleasing bit, but I am puzzled by the soft-torture set up. Do I want
to know the answer?

Shravan: I have rules, if you follow them, I’ll reward you. If you don’t, I’ll punish you.

Suman: You’d punish me, like you’d use this stuff on me?

Shravan: yes.

Suman: What would I get out of this?

He shrugs and looks almost apologetic.