People think that BDSM relationships are like the computer tutorials of an Indian on YouTube – you follow the steps in order and everything works perfectly. What nonsense. They are more like those projects where the client says they want something simple, and when you already have everything developed, they drop, "Oh, by the way, I've been doing this another way for 20 years."

I stared at Alex, trying to process what I had just heard. Two years. TWO FUCKING YEARS with another dominant. And here I was, explaining to him like an idiot how to kneel.

"Sir?" he asked in that soft voice he used when he needed my approval. I didn't know if it was instinct or strategy, but it sounded suspiciously rehearsed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Stay still," I ordered, and the way he froze instantly only confirmed my suspicions. Too perfect. Too trained. "Explain to me exactly why you didn’t tell me about your previous experience."

"You never asked, sir," he replied without looking up, and damn, he was right. Then he added, almost in a whisper, "And I liked how you took care of me too much to risk that changing."

Great. My protective side, the one I worked so hard to hide, had been completely obvious. And apparently, appreciated.

"Look at me," I ordered, and when his eyes met mine, I saw that glimmer of vulnerability that made me think he hadn't been manipulated. "Have you been having fun at my expense?"

"No, sir!" he exclaimed, but he maintained the submissive posture even in his agitation. "I just... wanted things to work. For you to see that we could... fit."

There was something in the way he said "fit" that suggested much more than his words conveyed.

"What else have you not told me?" I asked, using that tone that always made him shudder. He did not disappoint – a visible chill ran through his body.

"Nothing important, sir," he murmured, and that evasive answer made me growl. "It's just that... sometimes I like to appear more inexperienced because... I enjoy when you take complete control."

I studied him closely. He was still in the same submissive position I had taught him – one that he apparently didn't need me to teach anymore. His hands rested on his thighs, his head slightly bowed, his breath controlled but slightly quickened.

"So you've been playing with me," I said, my voice heavy with authority.

"No, sir," he responded with a softness that contrasted with the firmness of his words. "I just... waited for the right moment. And the right dominant."

That last phrase hung in the air between us, heavy with implications.

"What exactly were you waiting for, Alex?" I asked, noticing how he shivered at hearing his name in that tone.

"For someone who wanted more than just... occasional sessions, sir," he replied, and there was something in his voice, a mix of hope and fear that made me want to protect him and domi...