Full disclosure: I have a huge block when it comes to BDSM. As a result, I did not expect to like Sated, which is the third book in a trilogy about members of a BDSM club. I tried it anyway, because it had a lot of my personal catnip components, including diverse and geeky characters. Surprise, I LOVED IT. The book was respectful of geeks, people with disabilities, people of color, and the BDSM community, and it was informative and entertaining, and it was funny – and it was all about communication and consent.

Keira is a personal trainer at a gym which is owed by two guys that just happened to be the heroes in the previous book in the Fit trilogy. Keira is aware that they are heavily into BDSM but she finds the idea of BDSM to be off-putting (she admits that most of what she knows about BDSM she learned from fan fiction, and she doesn’t have personal experience with it).

After a terrible date, one of her bosses sets her up with a friend (Daniel) who is the brother of the star of a science fiction show Keira likes. This guy, Daniel, takes Keira to a convention, introduces her to the cast of Keira’s favorite show, and is just generally awesome to her, making sure she has a great day. Keira and Daniel hit it off, but he’s into BDSM to the degree that his participation in and connection with a local BDSM club are an integral part of his life. Can Keira and Daniel make their relationship work?

The focal point of this romance isn’t so much the actual sex as the talking about sex. There are sex scenes, and they are sexy, but much more time is devoted to Keira and Daniel talking about sex than having it. Keira is direct and she’s curious. She’s not interested in BDSM based on her preconceptions, but she’s willing to learn more about it and explore as long as she can do so under her own terms. Daniel is very open (except about the extent of his involvement in the club, which creates the conflict between the two).

I found these conversations about sex to be touching and empowering and very hot, not so much because of the actual content but because of the quality of the conversations. Keira’s previous boyfriends weren’t interested in hearing about what Keira likes, but Daniel loves hearing about what she likes, in detail, and telling her about what turns him on. They discuss everything they are going to do sexually in considerable detail before they commence and they always have either a safe word or a safe gesture, and they check in on each other as things are going along. There was never a point where I felt as though they weren’t respecting each other and each other’s boundaries. And Keira’s determination to have her own agency with regard to her sex life and her love life was incredibly empowering.

At one point, Keira prepares an evening for Daniel that involves many components and she describes them all to him and describes her research. The amount of effort she puts into it, the research, and the funny asides (“They only had this kind of rope in neon green, I hope that’s OK”) are geeky, thoughtful, and empowering, all at the same time. I never thought I’d get a little teary eyed at a scene that involves the phrase, “I did some research, and this rope was highly recommended,” but I actually did. Context, in this case, is everything.

And the book is funny! Keira is the kind of person who will giggle in church just because she knows she’s not supposed to, so there’s nothing grim about her sexual practices with Daniel. The way she gets totally flustered when presented with an opportunity to live out a fantasy or explore a new one was adorable and completely relatable. The scenes feel intense, but also playful. The first time he ties her up and gags her, she uses her safe cue to get him to remove the gag and says, “I don’t care what you do to me, my father will never negotiate with terrorists!” I had no idea that I could laugh so hard throughout a book about BDSM, including during the sex scenes.

By the way, their safe words do come into play early on, which was reassuring because so often in these kinds of stories either the words aren’t used or they are used after some kind of trauma has already happened. Sometimes it seems like, “how far can I go before using my safe word” is a kind of game in fiction, and both characters lose. Daniel and Keira are out to try new things, not score points, and they are both very comfortable with using their safe words or gestures whenever they need to slow down.

Daniel is Korean and he lost a hand in a fireworks accident (he works in the film industry running special effects). Both aspects of his character are addressed completely matter-of-factly. Keira is curious about how he lost his hand, and she has some questions about his prosthetics and whether they hurt, but it’s not a barrier to their attraction. On their first date, he takes the prosthetic off and uses his hand and his stump to give her a fantastic foot rub. During sex scenes, his stump is neither ignored nor fetishized. Keira is African American. It’s always a pleasure to see a romance that includes people of color and a person with a disability, especially when these things are treated as one aspect of a person and are not thought of as the end all/be all of their character. I don’t object to books in which race, or living with a disability, are the main focus of the book. However, I enjoy the variety that comes with these qualities being portrayed as parts of a whole, happy, successful character who is living out the same narrative that any other person might.

I loved Keira once she got past the first couple of chapters, which were largely about her being super perfect. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s a personal trainer and kickboxer, she’s pretty…she teeters on being a Mary Sue, but her quirkiness and her sense of humor humanize her. When she mentions to Daniel, off-handedly, “I like to know things,” I fell a little in love. Daniel also borders on too perfect, and the conflict where he’s afraid of losing his BDSM family didn’t quite gel. I needed to see more time with him and the club (not so much the sex stuff as the social aspect of his relationships there) in order to feel concerned about the whole, “What if I have to choose the club or Keira” plotline. This is the third book in a trilogy so perhaps the first two books laid more groundwork there. Also, early on there are some great online chats between Keira and her bored friend who is at home with sick infant twins and who is trying to live vicariously. These chats fade out after a while, and I missed them.

Daniel also borders on too perfect, and the conflict where he’s afraid of losing his BDSM family didn’t quite gel. I needed to see more time with him and the club (not so much the sex stuff as the social aspect of his relationships there) in order to feel concerned about the whole, “What if I have to choose the club or Keira” plotline. This is the third book in a trilogy so perhaps the first two books laid more groundwork there. Also, early on there are some great online chats between Keira and her bored friend who is at home with sick infant twins and who is trying to live vicariously. These chats fade out after a while, and I missed them.

Incidentally, some people might raise an eyebrow at how involved Keira’s bosses are in her personal life. This would have bothered me in another context, but I think it worked just fine in this book. It’s a very small business in which three people work closely together with an informal dynamic. It walks a fine line but since I myself am used to working in small agencies in which everyone is all up in everyone else’s business, I thought it made sense and didn’t represent an abuse of power in the workplace.

I haven’t read a lot of other BDSM, but when I have, even when issues about consent are carefully discussed, the actual acts often seem very self-important and serious, and the dominant is incredibly bossy (because, you know…dominant). This book was a more accessible for me because the tone stayed light even when the sex was intense. It also helped that Daniel and Keira take turns being the dominant and the submissive with each other. I gather that’s unusual, but I loved it, because it removed unpleasant associations I have with power and control within a relationship. I adored the fact that whoever was the dominant person for the night always prefaced his or her demands with, “Please.” This couple was adorable, even when they were tied up and gagged. Their activities involve a lot of bondage, but very little actual pain, so from my relatively uneducated perspective I’d describe this as “BDSM lite.”

This book is also very short, and it shows. Keira and Daniel have a quick romance followed by a proposal that is so unromantic that it almost becomes romantic by default because it’s so in character for the two of them. The romance feels longer, but in terms of calendar days, it’s resolved very quickly. The story could have used much more fleshing out – some of that I probably missed by reading Book 3 before the other two books, but I think that some content is just plain missing. In particular, the whole conflict regarding Daniel’s club seemed like something that could, in theory, be a plausible, serious conflict, but on paper was perfunctory and contrived. It didn’t make sense for the incredibly forthright Daniel to be so reticent about his club involvement, nor did it make sense for Keira, who knows about the club because of her bosses, to be so naive about it given how much she researches everything else. Also, I know romance involves a certain amount of fantasizing, but I couldn’t stop thinking, “My gosh, these people have a lot of spare time.”

On the whole, however, I adored this book. As a bonus, in this story, the characters’ interest in kink doesn’t stem from some past trauma that needs to be cured. They just like kink. It’s presented as perfectly healthy, although not to everyone’s taste. I am giving this a very high B+. The book really needed to be longer, but it handled so many relatively unusual components with so much grace. And also, I laughed so hard.