The Art of Domination by Ella Dominguez Page B

you. I do ; more than life itself. So please, Isa, if you want me to be happy, then indulge me.”
    How can I say no to that? Of course I want him to be happy – I love him. But inflicting pain while he fucks? He needs to clarify that. So I guess this means Domme Isa will be retired for a while until he feels satiated. But I’ll be damned if she’ll be retired forever. I want to know the real Dylan because apparently I’ve only been fucking his representative. Maybe I’m getting in over my head, but at this point – there’s no turning back. I am married to him now, after all. I guess I’ll just have to learn from Dylan and take his lead on how to act like a real Domme is so when it comes time to bring my alter ego out again, she will be a 100% badass.
    “Of course, Dylan, a nything you want.” I tell him and I keep my ulterior motives to myself.

Chapter 8
Dylan
    I know that look. Her mouth says ‘anything you want,’ but her eyes tell another story.
    “What are you thinking about?” I ask her.
    Her eyes widen like she’s been caught in a lie, but she just shakes her head no and shrugs her shoulders.  She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something, but then she stops.
    “Tell me.”
    “Do you really like inflicting pain?” she asks.
    Shit. Here we go. “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    “What do you mean, why?”
    “I mean, why would you want to intentionally inflict pain on someone?”
    I let out a loud sigh. I knew my admission would bring up all this shit and now I have to fucking explain myself. “I don’t want to inflict pain on just anyone pain, Isa. I want to inflict pain on my lovers. It excites me. I like the feeling of being in complete control over someone. Not just their body, but their mind and emotions. I enjoy degrading and humiliating my lovers. I always have. I’ve done this to a certain degree to you, but I’ve held back.”
    After my confession, Isa looks distressed but she remains silent. I know what she’ s thinking:  that I have issues or that I must be a head case to enjoy these sorts of things. I’ve been accused of that before and it’s total bullshit. I start to feel irritated at the look on her face.
    “I don’t have issues, Isa. Despite what people think about this lifestyle, a person doesn’t have to be certifiable or have a history of abuse to enjoy causing pain. I just like to be in control, okay? I’m a Dominant and that’s all. It’s how I was built.”
    She looks hurt. “You mean a history of abuse like me, right? I may have issues, but I never insinuated that you did. God, Dylan, I wasn’t even thinking that. It was only a question,” she says as she gets off the bed.
    “Isabel, stop. Get back here. We’re not done talking.”
    “Yes, we are. I’m hungry and sore.”
    She’s pouting now. 
    “And you know what else? I’m pissed that you’ve decided to tell me all of this after we got married. How little you must think of me.”
    “What do you mean by that?” I ask her.
    “I mean, you must think I’m a total asshole or that I’m a certifiable head case with my abusive past or why else would you wait until we were committed for life to tell me all of this? Why did you decide now to tell me that you’ve been holding back? Did you really think I would leave you over something?” she half yells at me as she stomps into the bathroom and slams the door.
    Fucking hell. I hear the door lock and irritation sets in. She knows I hate locked doors. I get up and walk over to the door and try and open it, as if I don’t already know that it’s locked.
    “Open the God damned door, Isa.”
    “Go away.”
    What the fuck? “I’m only going to say it one more time. Open the motherfucking door or it’s coming down.” My temper is now simmering on medium-high heat.
    “Grow up .”
    Fuck it . With one swift kick the door jamb cracks and the door swings opens. Isa is standing on the other side with a towel wrapped around her and gaping at me in horror. I