Chapter 14 #2
Her instant obedience was as pleasing as her gracefulness. Woodcrafters probably were up and down from the floor all day.
“Very nice.” Leaning forward, he rested his hands on her shoulders in a possessive gesture. This body is mine.
Bob’s eyebrows went up for a second before he smiled in open approval.
After ending it with Justine, Drake had stuck to short-term hookups, much to the disapproval of his friends. But now…
He looked down. At Ray’s autumn-colored, curly hair with the intriguing bluish strands. Freckles over her cheeks and shoulders. Her blue-green eyes were bright as she smiled up at him.
Not only submissive, but intelligent, generous, creative, and simply fun.
Warmth filled his chest. What was growing between them was deeper and more satisfying than anything he’d known before. She was a friend as much as a lover—although admittedly, he certainly looked forward to enjoying all the sexual aspects later tonight.
Before that…well, she’d given him her body to enjoy.
He ran his finger along the lacy edge of her top that exposed just the tops of her shoulders. “Alex, have you seen Ray’s tattoos?”
“No, I haven’t.” Alex’s mouth quirked. The Dom undoubtedly knew where Drake was headed.
“The one on her right arm is my favorite.” He pushed the sleeve down to expose the tattoo on her deltoid…which dragged the bodice down almost to her right nipple.
She stiffened, gripped the cleavage area, and started to pull it up. “M-Master Drake,” she whispered.
“Hands on your thighs, bébé,” Drake said, his voice softer than before.
“I…” The way she bit her lip was charming.
It pleased the hell out of him when she obediently set her hands on her thighs, palms-up, imitating the posture of the other two submissives.
“Much better.” Drake ran his fingers over the tree tattoo and asked Alex, “See the woman’s form in the trunk?”
“It’s beautifully done,” Alex said.
Bob, with a half-smile, lifted his eyebrows. “Is there one on the other arm?”
“As it happens, there is. Let me show you.” He pushed her left sleeve down. Now the lace of her top barely covered her plump breasts.
“Ah, I like the ink. The colors blend well with her freckles and her hair.” Bob nodded approval, his hand on Lynn’s shoulder.
Lynn stole a quick look before her gaze returned to the floor. Drake had to smile. The introverted brunette was an excellent complement to Bob’s sociable personality.
Drake looked down at Ray. Her cheeks were flushed from being almost exposed in public. Her lips were reddened, her nipples erect with arousal.
Even so, all her muscles were tense. Perhaps with uncertainty? This was new to her. He must not let himself forget that.
When he set his hand on her nape beneath her hair, she startled.
“Mon c?ur, you put yourself into my keeping for tonight. I will touch as I want, show you off as I want. No embarrassment is needed because this isn’t your body tonight; it’s mine.
There is nothing for you to think about.
Your job is to keep your eyes lowered. You do not talk or move unless so directed.
If you need to move, you may sit—as long as you’re still between my legs. Clear?”
He could feel the tension flow out of her. Barely hear her relieved exhalation as she murmured, “Yes, Sir.”
For many submissives, turning over the reins was a respite from their need to please, to be perfect, even to serve society’s impossible expectations.
When Master Drake lowered her sleeves, Ray had felt as if an entire anthill set up residence in her chest. Prickling and biting, making her breathing shallow.
What should I do? Cover myself? Look away? How was she supposed to act?
But he’d laid out just what she had to do now and… Gods, the relief. Simply kneel here. Not think, not talk. Not even decide if she should be embarrassed or not.
Those decisions were…his.
It might be different if he told her what to do all the time, but his time in charge had boundaries. And this was Drake. I can trust him.
She breathed out. The low carpet was soft beneath her knees. His hard thighs bracketed her upper arms. His warm hands rested on her shoulders. She was enclosed in warmth and safety.
Her squirrel thoughts slowed, as if happy to wait for orders.
The music of Sierra’s “Unbroken” with the distinctive heavy bassline spilled out of the dungeon as if to accompany the hum of conversations. The sounds—footsteps, people talking, glasses clinking—swirled around her without landing. She was tucked in a bubble of peace.
The Doms were talking about something. Now and then, she listened. Or not.
Time passed. After a while, she realized the voices around her had changed.
Drake leaned down, rubbing his cheek against hers. “You’ve been such a good girl. How do you feel now?”
“Comfortable,” she whispered, paused. “Happy.”
He made a pleased sound. “Good. Although, comfort isn’t in my plans for your entire night.”
Wait…what does he mean?
Hands around her waist, he drew her closer between his legs and pushed the stretchy top of her maid’s uniform to her ribcage. Exposing her to…everyone. “She has the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen.”
Voices came from around her.
A rumbling baritone. “Yes, lovely.”
“I prefer bigger, but there’s something to be said for perky.” A man’s tenor.
A woman’s voice. “Pretty nipples too.”
Ray’s head jerked up. Nediva, the Mistress who’d bartended at Chains sat in one of the chairs.
Drake’s callused hands were under her breasts as if offering them up—and he squeezed lightly with a low admonishment, “Eyes down, pet.”
She squeaked and lowered her head, forcing her gaze to stay on the floor. But shades of the elder gods, he was touching her, cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples.
Her whole body jolted completely awake. Tingles flowed from his touch, spreading across her skin until every inch was waiting for more.
“Nediva, have you found someone to play with tonight?” Drake was asking.
“No, I’m looking forward to some pick-up play sessions. Lots of people here from out of the area and new equipment to play on. Did you see the bondage table that looked like someone mated it to a pillory and stocks. So cool.”
One of the male Doms laughed. “I saw it. We should get one for Chains, Drake.”
“I’ll take a look at it. Inventive equipment is always welcome. I also need to get a replacement for the back bar painting.” Master Drake sounded annoyed.
Did he mean the lovely SAFE, SANE, & CONSENSUAL artwork? What happened? She almost blurted out the words.
Someone else asked the question for her.
“An altercation at the bar and one culprit thought it was a good idea to throw his glass of red wine at his boyfriend—who ducked. The wine hit the painting.”
“Damn,” Nediva groaned. “There’s no coming back from red wine.”
Ray bit her lip, feeling almost as if she’d lost a friend. The artwork had been a symbol of what Chains stood for—and had made her feel safe there.
“We’ll find something to replace it eventually.” As if seeing her unhappiness, Master Drake squeezed her shoulder.
The conversation moved on for a minute before he bent forward and said softly, “Ma chérie, I’d like you to bring me a Perrier and whatever you wish for yourself from the drinks table.” He raised his voice. “Anyone else? Ray would be pleased to serve.”
The words hit her with a shock of truth. Because there was nothing she wanted more.
A voice came from her left, a male Dom. “A Mountain Dew would be great, thanks.”
She glanced up quickly to ensure she knew who to deliver the drink to.
No other takers.
“Off you go then.” Drake handed her money, closed his hard hands around her waist, and lifted her to her feet.
She took a step and unthinkingly started to pull her bodice up.
Drake made a sound low in his throat. A glance showed his lips tilted slightly, his eyes filled with amusement.
Oh, damn. He owns my body tonight. And was in a mood to show off her breasts.
Damn Dom.
Okay then. Easy for him to tell her not to be embarrassed. Her whole-body blush was probably giving off heat waves as she crossed the room.
“Oh nice.” A man in black leathers stepped directly in her path. “You with someone, pretty woman?”
Drake had said, “You do not talk,” so now what? After a confused second, she turned and pointed to her Dom…who was watching.
Drake shifted his dark gaze to the black-leathered guy and shook his head—no.
“Fuck me, you’re with Drake. Shit. Sorry. Tell him sorry.”
And her path to the drinks table was clear.
Well, cool. How reassuring he’d kept an eye on her in case she needed help. She glanced over her shoulder, and he was lounging in his chair. Still watching.
She smiled at him and got a wink in answer.
A few minutes later, she returned, gave Drake his change, and handed out the drinks. And… Yikes, I’m the only submissive in the group now.
Lynn and Mac were probably with their Doms in the dungeon. Good for them, only… The appreciative looks from the Dominants in the sitting area made her nervous.
It was such a relief to take her place at Master Drake’s feet. Even better when he pulled her backward between his legs again. Bracketed by hard thighs.
Safe.
Keeping her gaze lowered, she drank the small apple juice she’d gotten for herself.
He took the empty glass from her and set it on the end table. Then he curled his hand over her bare shoulder and…
Right over her clit, vibrations started up. She startled—and his grip tightened, keeping her from jumping up.
But… Holy kraken, here?
The soft pulsing vibrations didn’t stop even when she squirmed, trying to get the vibe away from the acutely sensitive spot. This was just…just wrong.
Master Drake’s legs on each side of her closed in, subduing her wiggles. He leaned down and whispered, “Stay very still and very quiet, Aralia. It’s your only job right now.” He chuckled under his breath and added, “You do have permission to come. This time.”
Permission. Permission. Ooooh, that was taking dominance way too far. She’d come when and—