Page 120 of Enthrall Ecstasy
Watching her come alive in each of those scenarios had been exhilarating. I’d felt a respectful envy seeing our senior Dominants, Grantchester and Sinclair, getting to experience her intimately. And that jealous twinge.
Ridiculous.
I’d always taken a sordid pleasure from sharing my submissives. But now, I felt my protective side rearing up.
It made no sense.
Shaking it off, I ran my fingers over her painted toenails, admiring her feet.
“We were at Chrysalis all along,” she said sleepily.
“This place is a small village.”
Since Richard had taken over as the director, he’d added a five-star restaurant. Guests didn’t have far to go for a fine-dining experience. It also provided another setting for the kind of session we’d just enjoyed.
It was a good place to test obedient submissives.
When the tub was full, I gestured for Rue to stand. She turned around so I could ease her out of her dress. I tugged it down and helped her step out of it. From now on, whenever I saw her wearing this I’d remember our experience today.
Once the dress was off, I hung it on a hanger.
Then I knelt behind her and ran my hand up her legs, placing my palm on her ass, her cheeks round and plump. She was the kind of woman I was drawn to. Someone confident in her own skin.
Owning her femininity.
She looked over her shoulder at me.
I grinned. “Just admiring you.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. “You make me feel…”
She made me feel the same way.
Even though these feelings surged, I pushed them down. They had no place here. No future. It was merely her coming down from that scene.
“I’m taking out your Ben Wa balls,” I told her, tugging on the string just below her vagina. I eased them out and set them near the sink.
Naked, she took my hand for balance and stepped into the tub, then lowered herself into the warm water, the bubbles frothing over her, her locks falling over the back of the tub and her shoulders.
She was like a sea goddess having no idea of her beauty in this moment.
My thoughts drifted to how Grantchester and Sinclair had handled her so well, and with compassion.
They’d coaxed her gently and had performed brilliantly.
Maybe De Sade was right. Maybe Grantchester was a better fit than me.
Then again, the way Rue responded to me was worth more introspection.
Kneeling beside the bath, I reached for the sponge and caressed its softness over Rue’s breasts, dragging it down over her stomach and around her ruby pierced bellybutton. She arched her back as I stroked it up and down between her thighs.
I recalled Rue mentioning the possibility of having another piercing, that she wanted my initials on a piece of jewelry she wore.
I applied more pressure to the sponge and she rocked her hips against it, suspended in a state of craving. A need so intense it might be seen as a challenge by a junior Dom.
Her constant craving made her a rare and sacred creature.
I knew how to honor her nymphomania.
