Текст книги "The Exhibitionist"

Автор книги: Tara Sue Me

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Chapter Four

NATHANIEL

I arrived at my New York City office about three hours before my meeting with Charlene. I’d planned to get some work done while I waited, but I found myself unable to concentrate. My mind kept returning to the night before. I felt at a loss because I didn’t know how to break through and alleviate Abby’s suspicions about Charlene.

I gave up on working and walked over to the large picture window in my office. I watched the general flow of people on the street far below and decided I needed some air.

I’d always felt there was something to be said for allowing oneself to get lost in the city, to become one with the crush of people. The city was alive, and to mix in and become part of it was to feel that life seep into your soul and revive the sluggish parts.

For the next forty-five minutes I simply walked. The last time I’d gone for a pleasure walk in New York was in December when Abby and I had gone Christmas shopping. Now I walked by a few of Abby’s favorite shops, wishing she was with me. Before I knew it, I found myself going into a rare-book store that she loved.

Though my parents had been avid book collectors and had built the estate’s massive library, it wasn’t until I shared the space with Abby that I truly learned to appreciate it. We had added a few volumes to the collection over the years, but we were always looking for more.

The shopkeeper, Jeremiah, saw me and waved me over. He was an older gentleman with white hair and walked with a hunch. Perhaps from spending so much time bent over one of his beloved books.

“Mr. West,” he said with a grin when I made it to the worn wooden counter. “I was going to call your wife. I had a book come in earlier this week that I think she would like.”

I didn’t doubt him. Before we had kids, Abby and I would visit the shop on weekends and she would go through boxes of books with Jeremiah. I’d enjoyed simply standing nearby and watching her joy at new discoveries.

“What do you have?” I asked, peering over the counter.

“First-edition Lord Byron—1815 Hebrew Melodies.” He stated it with pride.

I looked over the well-kept volume. “An excellent find.”

He craned his neck to look over my shoulder. “Is Mrs. West with you this afternoon?”

“No, unfortunately, she’s at home. Had some work to catch up on.” I was already reaching for my credit card. “But this is just the thing for me to give her tomorrow since I have to stay in the city overnight.”

Jeremiah’s white head nodded as he rang me up and wrapped the book. I, meanwhile, was thinking back to a cold winter night. A night I’d entered the library to find Abby, who’d only been my sexual submissive at the time, combing through the poetry section. What followed was a game of quotes that ended with her naked in my lap and a moment of passion that forever changed me.

“Mr. West?” Jeremiah held the book up.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the package from him and promising to give Abby his regards.

I made my way back to the office and pulled out my notes for the upcoming meeting with Charlene. The trip to the bookstore had made me melancholy and I thought about driving home after we’d finished. Once there, I could take Abby back into the playroom for a different kind of scene from what I’d done last night.

But she had work she had to do, and even though she probably wouldn’t want to admit it, I was willing to bet she was looking forward to some alone time. With two kids, her job, and our playtime, she didn’t have much time that was hers alone. My fingers hovered above my phone and I thought about calling, but a sharp knock on my office door stopped me.

“Charlene,” I said, opening the door. “Thank you for meeting with me on a Saturday.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, breezing past me. “I’m just glad we were able to work something out before I left town.”

I tried to imagine her from Abby’s perspective. Charlene was a lovely woman, with blond hair and blue eyes. I was sure other men would find her attractive, but she didn’t even compare to my Abby. I’d hired Charlene to run my late uncle’s nonprofit because my involvement had gotten unmanageable and I counted myself fortunate to have found her. She was a hard worker and had done more in a few months than I could have accomplished in a year.

I motioned to the couch near the large window and we sat down.

For the next few hours we went through the accounts and I signed all the papers she’d brought for me. When we finished, I leaned back in my seat.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.

“You can do better than that,” she said, putting her documents inside her tote bag. “I’m free for dinner.”

“I better not.” It was certainly tempting, since I was otherwise eating alone and Charlene was a delightful conversationalist. Still, even though I knew nothing would ever happen between the two of us, there were several reasons it wasn’t a good decision to go out to dinner with her. For one, Abby wouldn’t like it and two, people would see us together.

“Just saying.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “A bit of company would be preferable to an empty penthouse.”

“Charlene,” I said with more force than necessary. “I do not enjoy repeating myself endlessly, nor do I like being badgered. I’m having dinner alone tonight. Do you understand?”

Her eyes had grown dark. “Yes, sir.”

It was not unheard of for employees to call me sir. However, I had been a Dominant long enough to know the difference between a business associate using the title and a submissive’s yielding. Our eyes locked and a moment of recognition passed between us as we each acknowledged what the other person was.

Knowledge was a good thing. Wisdom a better thing. And I had the only submissive I wanted or needed in Abby. I nonchalantly reached for my cell phone. “The sir isn’t necessary. You know I prefer Nathaniel.”

She shook herself, as if waking from a trance. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Of course, saying not to worry about it is quite different from not worrying about it myself. As I ate dinner in the penthouse that night, watching the lights of the city, I wondered if somehow I had known all along. Had I been drawn to hire Charlene because I somehow instinctively recognized her submissive nature?

I didn’t believe that to be the case. I felt certain that in all my years of business, I had worked with people who identified themselves as submissives and I was none the wiser. After all, I didn’t tell my business associates I was a Dominant.

Which led me to another question: did I tell Abby?

She made no secret of her dislike of Charlene. But I was around submissive women all the time when we met with our BDSM groups, and she had never reacted toward them the way she did toward Charlene. Abby was normally a very sensible woman who rarely made rash judgments.

I stood up from the table, cleaned the kitchen, and took a shower. By the time I got out and dried off, it was after ten. Abby was probably either working on the assignment I gave her or writing the revised piece for the blog. On any other Saturday night, we’d be headed to the playroom. I’d spend the next few hours working her into a frenzy of pleasure, driving us both to the highs we craved so much. I missed her.

I glanced once more at the clock and picked up my phone.

She answered on the first ring. “Hello, Master.”

“Abigail.” My body immediately relaxed at the sound of her voice. “How was your day?”

“Productive, Master. I accomplished a lot. I did the writing assignment you asked for and then I did my new piece for work.”

“You did all that today?”

“Only because I found some things I’d written while researching other posts. I was able to use some of it for the new piece. That cut down on the time I had to spend working.”

“Sounds like you were very productive. I think you deserve a reward.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

She had to be on edge after not being able to come the night before. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m reading in bed, Master.”

“What are you reading?”

“A dirty, filthy erotic novel and thinking about you.”

I was already hard, and hearing her mention the book she was reading made me uncomfortably so. I undid my pants. “What are you wearing?”

“One of your white dress shirts.”

I groaned. My plan was to have her strip, but the image of her in my shirt had me pushing my boxer briefs down. “Leave it on. Are you wearing panties?”

“Just a tiny pair.”

“Take them off.”

There was a rustle of clothes from the other end of the phone and then her breathless “Done, Master.”

“Very nice. Now I have to warn you, you still aren’t allowed to come. But tell me about the last sex scene you read.”

“It was hot, Master.”

“How so?”

“The hero had the heroine in front of a group of people. She was blindfolded and he was explaining to the crowd all the various positions he could take her in.”

“Interesting.”

“And he made her get into all of them, but he just teased her and never took her.”

“Never?”

“I haven’t finished reading the scene yet. I’m sure he will soon, though. He’d just taken his cock out when you called.”

I chuckled. “Bad timing, huh?”

“Not really, Master. With you on the phone, I can pretend you and your cock are here in bed with me.”

“So why don’t you tell me what you would do to my cock if I was in the bed with you right now?”

“Mmm, your cock in bed right now. Don’t I wish?” She sighed. “I’m assuming you’re already naked in this scenario, by the way, Master.”

“That’s fine.”

“I think the first thing I’d do is pour a bit of lubrication into my hands. And I’d stroke it all over your cock.”

“Fuck, I like where this is going.” I was surprised by the mention of lube. She liked anal sex, but not really enough for it to make an appearance in a fantasy.

“It’s not going there, so don’t get too excited, Master.”

“I’ll try to curtail my enthusiasm.”

“Curtail and enthusiasm, Master?” she asked. “Not exactly the kind of sex talk I’m used to.”

“Sorry, is that killing the mood?”

“Slightly.”

“Okay, so my cock is all lubed up, but apparently it’s not going in the orifice I thought.”

“It’s not actually going in any orifice.”

She was fantasizing about giving me a hand job? “I’ll be quiet now and won’t assume anything. You can continue.”

“I move up the bed and get on my back. Then I ask you to hold on to the headboard.”

I pictured it in my mind, still not sure about where the fantasy was headed. “Okay.”

“Once you’re in position, I take your cock and slip it between my breasts. Then I hold them all—”

“Motherfucking hell, Abigail.”

“You like?”

I took myself in hand. “Fuck yes. Go on.”

“So, I hold them together real tight and tell you to fuck my tits.”

I stoked myself, imagining. “Damn, I love doing that.”

“It’s an odd feeling, but I like it. I like watching you slide in and out. And you’re on top of me, so I can’t really move and it’s all about you and your pleasure and your cock feels so good.”

“Just thinking about it makes me so hard. I’m not going to last long.”

“I can tell by the way you’re thrusting and I whisper, ‘Use them, Master. Fuck them hard.’”

“Abigail,” I moaned, stroking faster and harder.

“I feel your cock twitch, so I say, ‘Come on then, Master. Mark me with your come.’”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“I want to feel it all over my skin and then I’m going to have you watch while I lick it off.”

The image she painted in my mind had me thrusting my hips and working my cock harder. I didn’t even try to hold my release back. “I’m coming, Abigail. Coming so hard all over those gorgeous tits.”

“Yes, I feel it. It feels so good. Mmm, I’m trying to get some in my mouth because you taste so good and I move a bit and suck you in my mouth, not wanting to miss one drop. And, damn, your cock tastes good, too.”

I was breathing heavily as I took a washcloth and cleaned up the best I could. “Damn, that was hot.”

“Thank you, Master.”

I pictured her in bed, still aroused and not able to do anything about it without my permission. “And how are you, Abigail?”

“Horny as fucking hell, Master.”

“I’m not going to let you come tonight, either.” I wanted her on the edge and so ready for her release that she could hardly stand it. I very rarely withheld orgasms from her, but after her blowup concerning Charlene, I wanted the point made very clear that only good behavior was rewarded.

“That’s okay, Master. I enjoyed getting you off.”

I would probably make her wait until next weekend. She had gone that long before, but it had been a while.

We spoke a bit more about the move and the kids and then I decided to push her closer to the edge.

“Now, let me tell you just how I’m going to fuck you the first time in our new house.”

Chapter Five

ABBY

The move to Wilmington and the unpacking that followed proved to be uneventful. With the people we’d hired doing the bulk of the work, I wasn’t surrounded by boxes for too long. Elizabeth and Henry thought the entire move was a grand adventure and they seemed to like the new house.

I had to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed showing it off and I didn’t hesitate to say yes when Dena asked to stop by.

“Come in,” I said, leading her inside the weekend after our move. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” She looked around. “This is gorgeous.”

“Thanks. We really like it, especially now that we’re settling in.”

“You’re going to have to give me a tour. Oh.” She lifted up a basket. “These are for you. Pumpkin nut muffins.”

“Thanks. I love pumpkin nut. You’ll have to give me your recipe.”

She laughed. “I don’t cook. Jeff made them.”

“Then thank him for me. I’ll go put these in the kitchen and then I’ll show you around.”

“I’ll go with you. I want to see what the kitchen looks like.”

As we walked down the hall, I pointed to the various rooms we passed. “That’s the library and office, currently nice and clean, just waiting for me to clutter it with papers. Farther this way is the dining room. We haven’t eaten in here yet, but I love it. Need to set up a dinner party or something. And in here’s the kitchen.”

“Look at this kitchen,” she said as we stepped inside. “It’s gorgeous.”

“And box free for the longest time,” I said. “It was the first room we tackled. I knew if I got the bedroom and kitchen unpacked, I’d feel a lot better.”

“All this counter space.” She ran her hand across the granite we’d picked out.

“We had that put in. Doesn’t it have the most beautiful quartz running through it?”

She nodded. “This room is so gorgeous, I can’t wait to see how you decorate the rest of the house.”

“You might be waiting awhile. I’m not much of a decorator. These smell so good.” I placed the basket down and peeked in. “I think I want one now. Join me?” At her nod I poured us water and we sat down at the kitchen table with a couple of Jeff’s muffins to nibble on.

“Where are the kids?” she asked.

“Henry’s taking a nap and Elizabeth is up in her room ‘unpacking.’ She said she wanted to set up everything herself.”

Dena laughed. “You’re awfully brave.”

“Nah, I put her markers and crayons away. She’s trying to decide which dolls she wants where and how to arrange her stuffed animals.”

“Is Henry’s favorite toy still the trash can?”

I laughed. While Dena stayed with us in New York, Henry discovered the trash can and loved to see how many things he could throw away.

“No, we finally had to put a childproof lock on it. There were just too many ways for him to get hurt. You should have seen him when he tried to open it after we put it on. He told me it was broken and begged Nathaniel to fix it.”

“Your kids are a riot.”

My chest swelled with pride and love. “They are wonderful. They really are. Even when they play in the trash can.” I nodded toward her still-flat belly. “How are you doing?”

Her hand dropped to her tummy and she rubbed it. “Great. I’m trying not to be so neurotic and my doctor’s been wonderful and doesn’t mind when I call her in a panic over something. Little one here looked good on the last ultrasound.”

“And Jeff?”

Her eyes darted to mine and then down to her belly. “Jeff’s good. He’s always done the cooking and he rubs my feet and reads Goodnight Moon, and—”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

“He won’t touch me. You know? Really touch me.”

“Sex?”

“Out of the question.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She leaned back in the chair with a huff. “I know it’s personal, and you can tell me to fuck off, but you have two kids. Did you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Stop having sex when I was pregnant? No. Not at all.”

“Jeff said it was too dangerous and he wasn’t going to do anything that could potentially lead to problems. I know he’s trying to keep everyone safe and I love him even more for it, but I dream about sex. And it’s so vivid! I’m almost positive I orgasmed in my sleep last week.”

“I’ve heard pregnancy has that effect on some women.”

She took a drink of water and reached for another muffin. “He’s miserable, too. I can see it. I even offered to lend a hand, or a mouth, and he wouldn’t take me up on it.”

“I can’t speak for every couple, but you know Nathaniel. Mr. Conservative when it comes to safety, and I love that, don’t get me wrong. When we found out we were pregnant with Elizabeth, he did hours of research and then we sat down and talked about how our play would change.”

“That sounds like him.”

“A lot of the things he said weren’t negotiable. He wouldn’t bind me in any way while I was pregnant. There were no scenes with me on my back. He checked in with me more often than normal and he extended aftercare. He limited anal play, too.” I closed my eyes, but it really shouldn’t have been that hard to remember. Henry wasn’t that old. “I’m sure I have something written down or on my blog I could look through and find for you.”

“If you don’t mind. That’d be great.” She sighed. “Part of me feels it’s stupid. I mean, it’s sex, right? I can live without it for a few months.”

“Of course you could,” I assured her. “But why do it if you don’t have to? Sex is a need, and it doesn’t go away simply because you’re pregnant.”

“Thanks, Abby.”

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll do some digging tonight and see what I can find.” I drummed my fingers on the table as another thought came to me. “You know, I could talk to Nathaniel. See if he could have a chat with Jeff.”

“I don’t want to put him on the spot and I don’t want him to feel like I’m using him.”

I waved my hand, brushing away her comment. “It’s no big deal. I’d actually suggest a group talk on the topic if you weren’t the only pregnant couple and probably the only couple that will be any time soon.”

“Yeah,” she said with a half laugh. “That would be awkward.”

“Maybe one day, if the group gets a few more long-term couples that move in that direction.”

“This is why I’m so glad you and Nathaniel are joining the group. You guys have been through things a lot of us haven’t.”

“Right? That’s why I should at least put a bug in Nathaniel’s ear about talking to Jeff. He can make it sound like it’s his idea. Just kind of a ‘So, how’s it going with the pregnancy?’ thing.”

“I think that would be great. Thank you and thank him for me.”

I winked at her. “I will.”

“I have something else I want to talk to you about,” she said, her face growing serious.

“What’s up?”

“Jeff said you and Nathaniel were going to be looking at ways to make the group safer and more secure.”

I nodded. “Nathaniel mostly. I’m just going to be giving him my opinion as a submissive.”

“That’s perfect. I need a submissive’s viewpoint on this. At least one that isn’t as personally involved as I am.”

I waited for her to continue, horribly curious as to where this was going.

“This is group knowledge, so I’m not breaking anyone’s confidentiality in telling you this. You know Julie’s business partner, Sasha?” she asked me.

“Yes, we met before. Briefly.” I knew from listening to various murmurings around the group that Sasha had been whipped badly.

“She was with one of the group’s Doms, Peter.” She raised an eyebrow in question.

I nodded. I’d seen him at a group meeting, but had never been introduced.

“He wanted to do a scene with her,” she continued. “I’m not sure of all the details, but what ended up happening was she was bound and gagged while he used a bullwhip on her. And he didn’t give her a way to safe word.”

I fell back against my seat, and my jaw dropped. It was inconceivable to me that a Dom could possibly do that. I finally asked, “She didn’t say anything to him before he started?”

“From what I gather, he had mentioned collaring her. She’d never been collared and thought it was romantic that they could play without safe words.”

“Holy hell.”

“Right? She wound up in the hospital and dropped out of the group.” Dena’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “She did come to a group meeting shortly after, but she had a panic attack and never came back.”

“That’s horrible.”

Dena nodded. “I recommended a therapist and she’s been seeing her for a while now.”

“Is she better?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. When I went by her place to ask her to stand with me at the wedding and told her about the baby, she mentioned she was kicking around the idea of rejoining the group.”

I could see both the positive and negative in that. For her to have not only the desire, but the strength and courage to face coming back to the group was amazing. On the other hand, with Peter also around, it would be hard. “I think I see where you’re going.”

“I worry for her.”

I put my hand over hers. “I’m sure you do.”

“I want her to be back in the group, because she’s a submissive and she needs it. But I’m so scared something’s going to happen that will leave her in a worse place than she was before.”

“And since Nathaniel’s going to be working toward restructuring things …” I let the statement hang in the air.

“I know keeping everyone safe is his top priority,” she said. “I just thought it’d be a good idea for you to know in more detail who you’re keeping safe.”

I thought for a few seconds. “Do you think she wants back in the group for social reasons or physical? I mean, do you see her wanting to play?”

“To be honest, for a long time, I thought she’d never want to play again. It seemed like men were the lowest thing on her priority list. And I can’t say I blame her. But recently, she expressed interest in a Dom.”

“Oh, well, that sounds positive.”

“You don’t know who she expressed interest in.”

“Is he a bad Dom? Do we need to kick him out of the group?”

“No, nothing like that. He’s just”—she searched for the right word—“tough. I’m not sure that’s what Sasha needs.”

But tough with a purpose could be beneficial. “Or it might be exactly what she needs.”

“As long as she’s with someone kind.” Dena smiled. “Jeff can be tough, but I’ve never doubted his inherent kindness.”

“Funny, I normally don’t associate kindness with a Dom, but I think you’re right. At least with Nathaniel. He can be a grade-A ass, but I know inside I’m the most important thing to him.”

She nodded. “That’s what I want for Sasha.”

Sasha was a fortunate woman to have such a good friend in Dena. And Julie was fiercely devoted to her as well. Both women would be needed for support, if and when Sasha rejoined the group. “I’d like to spend some more time with Sasha. Get to know her.”

“I know! I was going to go by their shop this weekend. Why don’t I come by here first and pick you up? We can go together.”

“That’s a great idea,” I said. “I just need to make sure Nathaniel can watch the kids.” We really needed to find a sitter in Delaware. I added that to my mental to-do list.

“Sounds great. Just call me.” She looked at her watch. “I better be going. Jeff and I have a date tonight. He’s taking me to a new bistro. They have fish stew on the menu. With calamari. I don’t know, must be the baby.”

I laughed. “I craved peaches.”

I stood to walk her to the door. I’d wanted to ask her for her opinion about Charlene, to see if I was overreacting, but it wasn’t going to happen today. I felt that it was more important to discuss her concerns about pregnancy. And Sasha was important, too. Especially since Nathaniel would be working in the group to hopefully avoid situations like hers. Compared to that, my problem with Charlene seemed very small.

It was fortunate I had the extra week of work done from the previous weekend, because I found that even though the boxes weren’t around for long, there was still plenty to do. The night after Dena stopped by, I collapsed into the couch in our new living room.

“The kids are in bed,” I announced to Nathaniel. “I’m ready to do nothing for about three hours. Scratch that. Make it thirty.”

He slipped his arm around me and kissed my forehead. “You know, I was thinking. We might need to rethink our position on hiring a nanny. Especially when we’re in Delaware. It’s not like we have Linda nearby to take them.”

I nodded. “The thought’s crossed my mind a few times, too. I think it’s a good idea.”

“We need to decide if we want a live-in or not.”

I thought about the bedroom we were in the process of converting to a playroom. It was almost complete. “Off the top of my head, I’m thinking no live-in. It’s not like we need a babysitter every day.”

“True, but if you had a little help, it’d be easier for you to work on the blog and show.”

“That would be nice.” Those benefits of a live-in would be great. “I just don’t think I’m at the point where I want someone unrelated to us in the house twenty-four/seven.”

“Just think about it. Since I’ll be having a driver take me into the city when we’re here, I don’t want you to be without any nearby help.”

I saw his point. “But someone living here, I just don’t know.”

“We could always start with a scheduled time for someone to come by either every day or most days. See how that goes. Then if it works for all of us and we need to, we could look into a live-in situation.”

I nodded. “I like that idea.”

“You want to ask around and see if you can get a few names? Then we can schedule some time for us to interview some people?”

“I know you’ll be at home most days, but I don’t want to set up a time that’s not good for you.”

He stood up and held out a hand to me, and pulled me up to stand in front of him when I took it. “Whatever you set up, I’ll make work,” he said.

Damn, he looked so good. He was wearing soft cotton lounge pants and nothing else. I ran my hands over his chest. “That’s very accommodating of you.”

He gave me a sultry smile and pressed against me. “I pride myself on being extremely accommodating where you’re concerned.”

“Is that right?” I slid my hand down to cup his ass. “Maybe I should return the favor. How can I accommodate you?”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and slip into something more comfortable?”

“Why would I go all the way up to our room? I can be accommodating here.” After nearly two weeks of no sex, if he was hinting what I thought he was, I didn’t want to waste a minute.

“Shh.” He put a finger to my lips. “Upstairs.”

If going upstairs meant I’d get sex, I’d go upstairs. I huffed so he knew I wasn’t thrilled about having to change before we did anything, and started upstairs. He didn’t move.

I looked over my shoulder. “You coming?”

Mischief danced in his eyes. “I’ll be up shortly.”

“Don’t wait too long.”

I walked up the stairs and down the hall to our bedroom, all the while thinking he must have something in mind. Normally, he was all over spontaneous sex. The fact that he wasn’t tonight told me there was something going on.

I walked into the bedroom and my mouth went dry at the sight of my nightstand.

Usually bare except for a lamp, it now also had my black leather collar on top.

Yes.

After our first trip to Wilmington, we’d decided to make a few changes. Up until then, we’d only been playing about once a month. Compared to how often I wore his collar before the kids, it felt like a rare occurrence and we both agreed we weren’t fully satisfied. Now I wore his collar every weekend, with necessary low-protocol times built in because of the day-to-day routines with the children. With the move and settling in, he hadn’t collared me yet this weekend.

But one of the other things we’d agreed to was the ability for one of us to ask for playtime during the week. Nathaniel’s method for letting me know he wanted to move into our Dominant/submissive roles was to place my collar on my nightstand.

Though I had the ability to turn him down if I wanted, saying no tonight didn’t even cross my mind. Just the sight of my collar on the nightstand had me desperate to kneel before him and sent waves of arousal through my body.

If I decided I wanted his collar, his request that I slip into something more comfortable really meant “get naked.” My fingers trembled with excitement as I unbuttoned my shirt and pushed my jeans down. Once undressed, I knelt in the middle of the room and waited.

He entered minutes later.

“Very nice,” he said. “I see you liked my suggestion.”

“I decided it was much better than staying downstairs.”

He laughed quietly and walked to the nightstand to get my collar. “I thought I might let you come finally, but that it would be on my terms if I did.” He buckled the collar around my neck. “Kiss my feet in thanks.”

I slid forward and brushed my lips across first one foot and then the other. “Thank you, Master,” I said before moving back into my waiting position.

“So polite this evening. Someone must really want to come.”

I didn’t say anything. I believed that was fairly obvious.

“Get on the bed. Face the headboard and hold on to it.”

I moved quickly while still trying to be graceful and seductive. As I settled into position, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror to the right of the bed. I turned and watched as he got behind me.

It turned me on like nothing else to watch him take me. To observe while at the same time feeling his possession. I groaned just thinking about it.

He pushed down on my shoulders a bit, kicked my knees apart. The entire time I watched him in the mirror. He situated me the way he wanted and then caught my gaze.

“You like seeing me get you into the position I want?” he asked. “Making sure your body is accessible and open for me?”

“The only thing better is watching you actually take me, Master.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I think we need mirrors in the playroom.”