Page 54 of Dare to Love Again

“No, Esme,” he chided in a low voice, capturing her hands in his. “I’ll tell you what I want when I want it. Your only job is to obey me. For now, you’re to stand here, eyes down, hands clasped in front of you, understand?”

She nodded, luminous eyes still up and locked on his. A burst of laughter behind him, entirely too raucous and intrusive for the scene area, drew her gaze to the side. If he found out who was so discourteous, they would revisit the rules in one of Thomas’ classes. But his priority right now was Esme, and he didn’t take his focus off her.

He squeezed her hands firmly, pleased when her eyes came back to him.

“Breathe,” he urged, putting his face next to hers so all she would see was him. “This is play, which is supposed to be fun, not torment.”

“I’m nervous, Master Finn.”

“I know you are, darlin’, but once we pass this first hurdle, you’ll be home free and ready to explore.”

“Do you think it will be that easy?”

“With me? It will be a piece of cake.” He winked at her and the tension around her mouth eased, becoming a hint of a smile. “Now, where are those eyes and hands supposed to be?”

Instantly, her long, gold-tipped black lashes swept down.

“There’s my good lass. Concentrate on me and my commands rather than everything else cluttering up your brain.”

She huffed a little laugh, but her lashes stayed fanned out beautifully against her creamy cheeks. “You have the knack for knowing a woman’s quirks, don’t you, sir?”

“A submissive woman, yes. All women, like the three in my family, not even close.”

He stroked a finger along her jaw then changed direction and glided his thumb over her full lower lip. He couldn’t resist leaning in and taking it between his teeth for a little nip, soothing it with his tongue then plunging inside for a taste as he kissed her.

She was a little wobbly and breathing hard when he ended it. He waited a moment, steading her at the hips, until she inhaled deeply and no longer trembled.

“I’ll be back in a minute. When I say that I’m not blowing smoke, I mean under sixty seconds. Don’t move.”

“Yes, sir.”

He organized his bag with a purpose. To quickly get in, locate what he needed without digging and searching, and be back to his sub’s side as soon as possible. He gathered four cuffs, tucked as always into designated pockets, a soft suede flogger secured in place by a Velcro strap, and tucked a few incidentals from the small compartments along the sides into his jeans pocket before returning to her in well under the minute he needed.

Standing behind her, with his lips near her ear, he whispered, “Keep those eyes closed,” then tied the black satin blindfold in place. “This will help you focus only on me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He moved in front of her next. “Now your wrists, lass.”

Without hesitation, she held them out to him palms up, proving her late husband had trained her well. Keiran used rope or leather cuffs, never metal. They were more dramatic but too easily bruised delicate skin. The only marks or pain given in a session with him were intentional and within limits.

He wrapped the fur-lined cuff around one wrist, checked the fit, and secured it with a quick-release snap clip to the chain dangling from the ceiling. Before he cuffed and secured the other arm, he slipped the shoulder strap from her dress down her arm and off.

Although she seemed ready to strip herself bare, he didn’t intend that for this first scene, except for one of her beautiful breasts. That much would give her a hint of vulnerability and the lack of control she could expect but also teach her that covered or gloriously naked was up to her dom to decide, not her.

Her ankles would come next, but only after he enjoyed himself a bit first.

Tilting her face up, he kissed her as he ran his hands up her sides, and all the way to her bound hands, checking for tightness or pinching once more then retracing his path, gliding over her shoulders and down to her back, all without breaking the seal of his mouth on hers.

As he caressed her body, his thumb caught on the loose strap. Her dress dipped lower on one side, but the gravity-defying fabric clung to her nipple. The upper swells were visible but the best part, the rosy tip remained covered, teasing him and the audience who leaned in anxiously waiting for it to drop.

It would be interesting to see how many strokes of the flogger it took before the laws of physics prevailed.

“Turn,” he murmured.

Once she faced away from him, he ran his hands down her back, slowing when he reached the curve of her luscious bottom. When he crouched behind her, they continued down her long, satiny smooth legs to her ankles. He applied the two remaining cuffs, but rather than connecting them to the eyebolts embedded in the floor, he linked them together.

When he rose, he traced his fingers up the back of her legs. He hooked the hem of her dress, giving him and the onlookers a glimpse of white cheeks before he let it fall. Finally, he reached for his flogger.

---