Page 117 of Filthy Dirty Dom

“I can come with you,” she said, but he shook his head.

“I asked Manuel to ring up any sun catcher you choose,” he said with a wink. “I’ll be right back.”

Swiftly, Alex stepped into the shop next door, the one he’d thought of earlier. He emerged a few minutes later, a small bag clutched in his hand. He returned to Leslie, who was holding her own bag. "What did you get?" she asked, her eyes flicking between him and the bag.

"You'll see," was all he said.

Their sail back across the lake was just as idyllic as their journey to the village. When they arrived back at the monastery, Alex led them straight to their room.

Once the door was securely closed and locked behind them, Alex leaned against it.

“Show me the sun catcher you picked out,” he said.

Smiling, Leslie pulled out some tissues from her bag, then after unwrapping the sun catcher, she held it up.

It was a sun catcher, but it depicted the moon, with a crescent moon-shaped crystal at the center. Hanging from it were smaller crystals that resemble stars.

“It’s pretty,” he said. “What made you pick it out?”

She blushed suddenly. “You call me Sunshine.”

“Yes.”

Her hand lifted to caress the sun pendant he’d bought her, the one she hadn’t taken off since. “You bought me this because I remind you of the sun.”

“That’s right, baby girl.”

“Well, the moon balances the sun. It lights up the darkness. And that’s you, Alex. My balance. My light. As much as you think you dwell in darkness, you’re the guiding light for so many of us, not just the light that guides us to safety, but the light that guides me to be strong. To be happy.”

Alex was stunned by her words. By the sentiment behind them. He loved how she saw him. Wished he could think that way about himself. He reached out, gently took the sun catcher from her, and placed it gently on the dresser.

"Take it off," he instructed, his voice steady yet imbued with an undeniable command.

Her brows knotted together. "Take what off?"

"All of it," Alex responded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Everything you’re wearing.”

She stepped back from him, creating a small distance, a stage of sorts. Then her fingers found the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting it over her head with a grace that belied her nervousness. As the garment floated to the floor and his heart thundered.

Next, she kicked off her shoes, one after the other, then peeled off her socks, leaving them in a discarded pile. With a tilt of her chin, her fingers moved to the button of her jeans, her gaze never leaving his. Inch by inch, she worked the zipper down, revealing the expanse of skin beneath. The jeans followed the fate of the shirt, leaving her standing in her underwear, her tits bare.

Then, with a slow, deliberate move, she removed her underwear.

Leslie now stood naked before him. Alex let his gaze roam over her exposed form, his eyes drinking in every beautiful detail.

He walked around her slowly, his eyes never leaving her body. His gaze traced the soft lines of her silhouette, the ripple of muscles beneath her skin as she stood perfectly still. His mind was alight with possibility, and with each passing moment, he was formulating a vivid picture of what he wanted to do.

"Stand against the wall," he commanded, his voice a low growl.

Leslie immediately moved to obey him. Her bare back touched the cool stone wall, her hands extending on either side of her and her legs parting slightly. Her complete submission stirred a primal sense of possession within him, adding fuel to the already burning fire of desire.

His attention then shifted to the bag he'd brought from the shop. He moved towards it, his fingers curling around the handles before pulling it open. From inside, he withdrew a flogger, the strips of leather rustling against each other as they swung lightly from his grip.

Holding it up, he met Leslie's eyes, watching as she took in the sight of the flogger. A flicker of surprise lit her features, then a shiver passed through her. Even in the silence that hung in the air, Alex heard the whisper of her accelerated breath, the subtle rustle of her shifting weight.

“Safe word?”

“Sh--shopping,” she said.

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