Page 2 of Enthrall Secrets
This desire I felt to step toward him and rest my cheek against his firm chest was not exactly what he needed. He needed a dominatrix - the kind who’d not be thrown by all that southern charm.
His sudden dark, intense glare caught me off guard.
His defiance was raw and vital like the piercing note on a tuning fork. He was all tension and rippling sun-kissed muscles, glancing up occasionally to gauge my response to his continued rebellion.
Disobedience I could handle.
I’d not counted on his beauty affecting me so dangerously, weakening my resolve to be just a mistress to him. The kind of connection we were experiencing was not what I’d expected when perusing his file. Whoever had profiled him had been way off. He wasn’t just a suit in need of a good spanking. He was more…so much more.
Those dark curls were now a tussle of damp luscious strands. A series of whips and paddles had left his flesh tinged a deep shade of red as he’d writhed in ecstasy against the Saint Andrew’s Cross, his moans reaching beyond the four walls.
I saw pride reflected in his eyes, and I raised my chin high.
“Stand.”
He rose with that familiar majesty, almost arrogance, even though I noticed he was not necessarily a man of excessive means - seeing that Michael Kors watch he’d peeled from his wrist earlier. However, from the way he’d recognized that Onesti ram sculpture we’d passed on the way in I could tell he was educated. To me that was more impressive than any financial status.
I was surrounded by men of privilege and yet I was far more interested in the wealth of the mind, the kind of conversations that enlightened and brought meaning to life.
The scent of his expensive cologne mingled with the aroma of fresh leather cuffs and I breathed him in, letting those sensations overwhelm me.
He was waiting patiently for his next command, standing with his hands behind his back, his head bowed.
It had only taken a few seconds to ascertain which room would be best. The décor was sleek and simple so his mind wouldn’t wander too much, a dark dungeon drenched in a soft red hue. Still, coaxing him to open up was proving to be a challenge. He’d been soothed initially when first restrained, as subs often are when handing over their control.
Though from the way he pulled back from surrendering completely, trancing-out would be an issue for him.
I gestured with my whip. “Back to the post.”
He folded his arms.
I took a short step toward him. “Problem?”
He was fighting me again, showing me a devilish grin.
God, he really was a pretty boy and that scar on his jaw added to a bad boy image he couldn’t quite pull off.
I suppressed a smile. Switching wasn’t an option. That fantasy would have to wait for when I was alone. Later, I’d be vibrating my clit to the max with all thoughts trained on him - anything to get him out of my mind.
And out of my system.
It took all my will to resist crushing my lips against his, flicking my tongue inside and tasting his mouth fully, which would be a fair revenge. A good mouth-fucking for the way his flirty eyes undressed me every chance he got.
That subtle shift in his demeanor hinted he’d perhaps caught on to my momentary fantasizing. His brow arched in intrigue.
So far my sub had endured his punishment well, with toned muscles flexing in time with the rhythm of the horse whip. No way could he be described as a seasoned bottom. He didn’t even close his eyes during the process. His jaw clenched as he endured it. He emitted an occasional growl of resistance…a long moan now and again.
I re-secured him to the steel cross, facing forward with his torso against the metal post and his beautiful ass in my face.
How easy it would have been to press my body against his, my tight leather dress one with his pink, firm flesh. With a tug I checked to make sure his wrists could slip out easily if he desired. He’d requested easy-free restraint in his contract. Getting out of these would be possible - though a punishment lay on the other side of disobedience. And he knew it.
When I used the paddle on his buttocks he leaned forward with his arms pulled back, a trickle of perspiration running down his spine and over the rippling muscles of his taut back.
“Should have gone in first.” He shook his head as though rising from a dream.
“What was that?” I circled around and stared into his midnight blue irises.
“What?”
