The Education

Chapter 4

"Your bedroom?"

Eden was shocked. She had assumed, through her vast research in literature, that those involved in a relationship made up of sex alone, or those in Dom/sub relationships, rarely used their personal bedrooms.

"Why not?"

"I thought there'd be a...um...a playroom?"

He laughed lightly. "Next you'll be expecting a contract."

"There won't be?"

He mused, pondering the term, as he ran a hand down her arm. Goosebumps followed, and he must have noticed. He noticed. "Not a contract per se, but a list of...obligations, if you like. We'll go over those another time, though. We're both consenting adults here, and we're taking it very, very slowly. Learning, Cherry. I don't expect you to follow anything while you're learning."

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeated with more belief than her. "Take a seat."

Eden was bemused by his kindness, by his gentleness. It was a contrast to his previous attitude towards her. She didn't know how to take it.

He began moving around the room, shutting out the last of Monday's light, replacing it with that of candles. He didn't do this for all his guests here, but these were exceptional circumstances and setting the mood was essential.

Eden's focus drifted over the room, like one does when passing scenery in a car, briefly and distractedly. She only really cared about the man in the room, but she appreciated the beauty of it, nonetheless. The showpiece was a huge, four-poster bed, cream bedding complimenting the drapes and carpet. There was nothing that hinted at a colorful sex life, no chains or array of canes. In fact, it was rather tame. Stylish, but tame. The only thing that stood out to Eden as somewhat flamboyant was a chaise longue in the corner.

"What do you expect to get from this, Cherry?"

"Sorry?" she said as she finally sat.

Master noticed she opted to seat herself on the corner of the bed, rather than at one of two of his Chesterfields, or the chaise. It surprised him, and very little did.

"Something brought you to my club. Something pulled you free of your bible study and pushed you into sin. Now, I don't want to know the whys—I'm not your therapist—but I need to know enough to give you what you desire. So what was it, Cherry? What was the catalyst that brought you here?"

"I'm a virgin," she deadpanned. "That's reason enough."

"You've put up with your virginity for a long time," he argued. "Something else spurred your decision to be here."

"Um...I read? A lot. Romance and erotica. I guess I'm tired of not being able to compare, jealous of characters having it all and me having nothing."

"You want fiction."

Eden's head dropped, embarrassed at her admittance. "I know, I'm sorry. I want the impossible, right?"

She saw his feet first, standing before her—perfect feet, she thought, which was weird because feet had always been gross to Eden. She followed legs up and over solid thighs and a narrow waist, over a wide chest that was peeking through an open collar, all under the guidance of fingers beneath her chin.

His gesture was stern, dominating, but his voice was surprisingly soft. Or at least, it began that way. "You want the Fifty Shades experience, you can have it. But let me tell you this, Cherry. You can have the sex, the mind-blowing, sinful, powerful sex, but the romance will not follow like it does in your books. We are not, nor will we ever be, boyfriend and girlfriend. Our relationship exists in this bedroom. I don't need to know anything about you and you certainly won't ask anything about me. We are sexual partners and will never be anything more. Do you understand?"