Chapter 5 #2
“Relax, Alexandra.” I heard the smile in his voice and I hated the idea that he was laughing at my helplessness.
“I can hear you thinking across the room. I won’t touch you without telling you what I’m doing first. This time,” he said, and I wondered how sure he had to be of himself to assume we’d do anything like this ever again.
I heard a swish of fabric and then sensed him standing behind me again, close but not touching.
“In order for this to work, I’m going to have to trust you, too.
I have to trust you not to cheat and try to look.
If we’re going to do this, then be honest about it and give yourself over to the experience or use your safe word. Can you do that?”
Well, hell, so much for peeking. I was running out of chances to say no. I thought for a long moment, making sure I could do what he was asking of me, and then I nodded.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he said, his voice warm with an approval I apparently craved. Damn it. “Arms out. I’m going to help you put this on.”
I wanted to grill him about what he was doing, but before I got out the first question, I felt the brush of silk over my hand and what I was pretty sure was the sleeve of my blouse being pulled up my arm.
Erik repeated the process with my other arm while I stood, stunned, in place and let him dress me like a child.
I’d expected him to take off his clothes and instead he was putting mine back on. Maybe this whole Dom thing was his crazy way of making fun of me. Maybe he was actually gay. I didn’t think he was but since when did a dude put clothes on a woman without touching her?
“Are you married?”
“Fuck, no,” he said with a laugh. “Close those gorgeous lips of yours before I find something to slip between them.”
He’d told me to shut up and figured out how to make it sound sexy. I’d clearly gone off the deep end.
He moved to the front of my body, and I felt the brush of his fingertips.
I still wasn’t wearing a bra and the silk grazing my nipples combined with his casual, almost impersonal, touch had me squirming on my heels again.
Thank God, he let me keep my panties on or I wouldn’t be able to hide the effect he had on me.
I doubted I was doing all that good of a job anyway.
Hiding from Erik seemed pointless. He seemed to have some kind of magic sexual sixth sense.
I felt him close the button at the top of my blouse, the teasing touch of his fingertips maddening as he worked his way between my breasts and over the soft mound of my stomach.
My nipples were so hard against the silk of my blouse, they ached.
If he’d been any other man, I’d have taken his hands and put them where I needed them.
But he wasn’t any man and I wasn’t ready for him to know how much I wanted him.
Not yet. Not until I knew where this thing between us was going.
I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he hadn’t set up some way to embarrass or make fun of me.
“Your breasts are magnificent,” he said as he closed the last button. “I fucking love the way your nipples stand out against the silk—like they’re aching for my mouth. Step.”
I felt him drop to his knees in front of me, but it took a moment for my lust-addled brain to get past his words and realize he wanted me to step into my skirt.
I started to raise one foot and then tottered on my heel, almost stumbling.
Without thinking, I reached out to steady myself and my hand landed partly on his shoulder and partly on the warm skin of his neck.
My fingertips brushed the curls that skimmed his collar and I had to fight the urge to tunnel my fingers into his hair.
It was an almost irresistible pull, the same kind of pull I’d felt the first night in front of the bar when I’d met his gaze and then later outside the judge’s chambers before he knew who I was.
It felt electric, like there was some kind of current moving between us, and I exhaled carefully, hoping the effect he had on me wasn’t completely obvious.
Lack of confidence wasn’t the man’s problem.
He didn’t need me doing anything to bolster it.
“Step again,” he said, and the rough edge to his voice made me wonder if maybe he’d felt it too. Whatever the fuck it was.
Keeping my hand on his shoulder, I stepped with the other foot, working hard to maintain the lie that I was touching him to keep from falling and not because I liked having my hands on him.
He shimmied the skirt over my hips and I sucked in my stomach so he could button it and slide up the zipper.
It was crazy, but having him dress me felt more intimate than standing nearly naked in front of him.
Grasping my hips in his hands, he rested his forehead against the soft mound of my stomach.
It was a gesture so unexpectedly tender, I forgot myself for a moment.
I slid my fingers into his hair, stroking the soft curls and wondering if I was supposed to be the submissive, why he was the one on his knees.
“Come on, Alexandra,” he said. I heard him inhale and then get to his feet. “We’re going out.”