Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Three: Eager

The week leading up to Rose's meeting with Emmett was… slow, to say the least.

On Monday morning, Rose woke up to a text from Emmett. He wanted her to bring a list of her limits to their meeting. That scared Rose, so she closed the message and pretended it wasn't there. Her phone mocked her from the side of her desk until she eventually put it in the drawer. Even from there, it taunted her. By the evening, she had worked herself up into such a nervous ball of energy that she ate an entire tub of ice cream to herself. Feeling bloated but slightly better, she pulled out her phone, fully intent on texting Emmett to tell him that this was a mistake. But her dream came back to her. And she felt brave, so she opened her laptop and began typing up the long list of her limits. She only hoped that he'd understand.

On Tuesday, Rose went through her limits again and amended some. If someone was patient with her, she felt that she could overcome them. They weren't horrifying things except to her. When she wrote 'blowjobs', she felt silly. A sub should be able to give her Dom pleasure in that way. Rose deleted it. But then re-added it. She shouldn't lie, couldn't. The thought of someone forcing her head down, thrusting into her throat aggressively, had a sick feeling building in her stomach. She had to put her laptop down and remember the breathing exercises that her therapist gave to her.

Breathe in through the nose. Hold it for five. Then out through the mouth for seven.

She repeated this five times, each lungful of air grounding her.

On Wednesday, Rose received a text from Emmett. Looking forward to Friday. Hope you are too. Eight simple words that had a smile tugging at her lips. Her heart fluttered. Debating whether to respond, Rose pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed on it, only stopping when she tasted blood. Cursing herself, she pulled out a tissue and delicately dabbed the blood away from her lip. When the bleeding had stopped, Rose threw her tissue in the bin, stopping to examine her hands. She clenched her fists. She needed a manicure. On her lunch break, Rose booked an appointment for Friday evening to have her nails done. Not knowing what Emmett liked, Rose opted to just have a hand massage and a soft nude colour added.

By Thursday, Rose was a complete nervous wreck. She was so torn. On the one hand, the idea of going back to this lifestyle or risking it all again was the most nerve-racking thing she had ever done—even more so than when she first joined. At least then, she hadn't known the horrors her body had experienced, and everything was new and exciting. But now, she was tarnished with the knowledge of what trust in the wrong hands could do. Yet, there was a longing inside her. A yearning to relinquish control again, give her body over to someone else and let them play it. To be used by them: dominated.

When Friday eventually came around, another dream had plagued Rose. Ropes had been wrapped around her body, their coarse strands prickly against her skin as she writhed under the ministrations of her Dom, her eyes blinded by a silk tie. His large hands had coaxed wave after wave of pleasure from her, encouraging her to mewl and groan and scream. When the lips of her cunt were puffy with want and her clit throbbed, he entered her, his long hard cock filling her. His hand had cupped her jaw and turned her head. The tie around her face had been removed, and she found herself looking into ocean blue eyes, a smirk resting upon his lips.

Rose bolted awake, one hand clutching at her breast, the other in between her drenched folds. Her heart hammered against her chest, and she struggled to breathe, those piercing blue eyes haunting her. She knew exactly who they belonged to. They were burned into her mind ever since their first encounter.

Reluctantly, Rose pulled her hand away from her tight nipple and then her throbbing pussy, resisting the urge to delicately brush her clit and bring herself over the precipice. Looking at the clock, Rose was pleased to see that it wasn't too early. She didn't want to be tired tonight.

After getting ready for work, Rose found a text on her phone with the address for the restaurant they were going to. Underneath the address was a single line of text. See you tonight.

And once again, butterflies curled in her stomach.

Rose smoothed her dress down outside the restaurant, making sure she looked presentable. She had a minimal amount of makeup on, her hair was twisted in a simple braid, and she wore a black silk halter dress that faded to white with a floral pattern on the right-hand side. She'd chosen to wear some black heels to give her a bit of extra height—she always found wearing heels made her walk a little taller, figuratively as well as literally.

Checking herself in the mirror a final time before entering the restaurant, Rose blew out a breath and opened the large glass door.

Immediately, she was greeted by the maitre d'.

"Good evening, Madam. Are you dining with someone?"

Rose cleared her throat as delicately as she could. "Yes, Emmett McCarty."

The man smiled at her and glanced down at a ledger. "Mr McCarty is already here. May I escort you to your table?"

Rose nodded and tucked her lips together, nerves flying through her body.

This was it.

Rose kept her head and down and followed the man through the restaurant, anxious energy penetrating her core.

Before the maitre d' had a chance to speak, to announce her arrival, a deep voice sounded in her ear.

"Hello, Rosalie."

Fuck.

She quivered.

Could someone's voice sound like melted chocolate?

Her eyes shot up from the floor and found ocean blue ones staring back at her. He was more handsome than she remembered. His dark blonde hair was longer, but only by a little bit. His jaw was strong, a slight amount of stubble adorning the skin. For the first time in her life, Rose wanted to run her tongue across it and feel the rough scratch of his whiskers.

His eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled at her and her knees actually felt weak.

He looked delicious. A dark blue shirt strained against his body, his muscles bulging underneath. Dark trousers covered his legs, the material tight against his thighs. Did this man have an inch of fat on him?

"Hello, Emmett," she greeted, well aware of just of breathless she sounded.

The maitre d' looked between them and then backed away, obviously sensing that he was no longer needed.

Emmett held his hand out. It was huge. His palm was large, with long, thick fingers extending from it. Could you get aroused from hands? The dampness between Rose's legs would suggest that it was entirely possible.

He helped her into her seat, a smile on his face the entire time before he took the chair opposite her.

"I'm glad you reached out to me," he told her gently.

Rose nodded, trying to find her voice. "I'm glad too."

His eyes scanned down her and then back up. "Try not to be so nervous, Rosalie. I'm not going to jump across this table and eat you." Her body instantly relaxed before he continued. "At least not unless you say 'please'."

Feeling her eyes go wide, Rose watched as Emmett grinned at her.

But it was precisely what she needed. Every single ounce of tension left her body, and she giggled, sinking into the chair as Emmett chuckled at her from across the other side of the table.

"So, what looks good?"

You.

Delicately, Rose dabbed the corners of her mouth, wiping away any remnants of diana sauce. They'd both ordered steaks—medium-rare for him and well-done for her. The food had been delicious, and the bottle of wine that had been recommended complimented the flavours beautifully.

"So, how long have you been in the lifestyle?" Emmett asked. They'd avoided questions like that for the past forty minutes, instead choosing to talk about their jobs, families and hobbies. Rose didn't have much to say for family, not compared to Emmett. Her parents and older brother had all but disowned her after the trial, and she'd not heard from them since. Emmett grew up in a large family. He lived with his grandparents, parents and three siblings, all girls. He was the oldest but close to all of them. He owned his own construction business and had done so for the past three years; he'd built it from the ground up, and the pride in himself was apparent when he spoke about it.

Rose swallowed and put the napkin in her lap, rearranging it to buy herself an extra few seconds. "Two years… but I haven't actually been in the lifestyle for the past year."

"May I ask why not?"

She avoided his eyes; looked anywhere but his face. She looked at the carpet, worn in certain places, at the clock on the wall, the hand ticking away, mocking her, and at the other patrons, all of them living their lives and utterly oblivious to her inner turmoil.

"I had a b-bad experience." It felt like an understatement. It was an understatement.

"Rose. Would you look at me… please?"

It was the please that got her. It had her slowly lifting her eyes and meeting his. Rose wasn't sure what she expected, but when she met his eyes, they weren't filled with pity. But understanding.

"I don't know what happened, and I know you're not ready to tell me yet, which is fine. But I'll be here when you are ready. And I'll listen, and I won't judge." Emmett's words were so sincere his face looked so honest that Rose had no choice but to believe him. "I figured something had happened when your friends told me that you need someone understanding."

Rose nodded and gave him a tight smile. Biting her lip, she reached into the small clutch she had brought with her and pulled out the piece of paper that she printed off that morning. "It's long, and it's not conventional."

As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed, and tingles flew over her flesh. Her eyes went wide, and she met his across the table. He'd felt it too.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took the paper from her and opened it up, his eyes scanning over the words.

Seconds passed, and his features didn't change; his pupils just moved side to side, reading the information she had offered him.

Rose began to get nervous. What was he thinking? Was he surprised? Shocked? Did he want to forget the entire thing? Could he see just how delicate she was, like a pressed flower, ready to break at any point if someone was too rough for her? Did he think she was a lost cause? Was he wondering why he had agreed to this-?

"When would you like to start?"

It took Rose a few seconds to realise that not only had Emmett spoken, but he had asked her a question. And not the question she thought he would ask. "I beg your pardon?"

"When would you like to start?" he repeated again, his tone just as even as it had been.

"You-you want to… with me?"

Emmett gave a little chuckle. "Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because…" Rose gestured to the list he was holding. "Because of that!"

"Rose, we all have limits. You just happen to have a few more than others. Nothing we can't work through."

"I… well…" She felt her head nodding before she spoke. "Alright. Um, next week?"

"Someone's eager." His grin was large, and his eyes crinkled. He had a lovely smile. One that immediately put her at ease even as she blushed.

"Hey," he reached across the table and held his hand out—Emmett's palm was warm and smooth, the tan skin a contrast to the white tablecloth.

Rose slide her palm across over the gap and let it rest in his. Tingles again.

His fingers curled around hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Rose wondered if the rest of him was as warm as his hand.

"I'm eager too," he confessed.

As he smiled at her, his hand holding hers, Rose started to realise just how eager she was.

Jgaff, you've been fantastic as always.

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews.