Chapter 7 #3
“The point is,” she repeated, ignoring my laughter, “I knew the books had something I wanted—a fantasy of being taken and made to feel things. I just had no idea what that meant or how to reconcile it with the other things I knew to be true about myself. And I’m not the only one.
” She took a swallow of her coffee and I waited, curious to see where she’d take us.
“Women want to rule the world and lots of them want to be dominated by the bad boy in the bedroom. Traditional roles for women are the exception, not the norm, anymore and the world is a better place for it. I’m not going to say we have to or we’re expected to succeed in meaningful careers because for most of us work is an important part of our identities, not something we do because someone else tells us to.
Women are badass powerhouses. So how is a woman who kicks ass in the boardroom supposed to reconcile that with wanting the man she loves to spank her? ”
She was slipping back into the persona she’d had at the deposition, but it felt genuine this time. She was telling her truth and she’d clearly spent a lot of time thinking about it. If she ever got the chance, she’d make a damn fine professor.
“And it’s not easier for men,” she said, sitting forward in the chair as if the idea excited her. “How are they supposed to reconcile the alpha asshole thing with being the guy who picks up the kids from daycare?”
She was right. I’d known from the first moment I’d started thinking about sex that I was dominant and even I didn’t understand the full spectrum of BDSM, from a little light tie me up/tie me down to the master/slave arrangement and everything in between.
I’d simply accepted that everyone had their own kink comfort zone and beyond safe, sane, and consensual, I didn’t have to have an opinion.
I watched as her expression shifted from excitement to something else, something sadder.
“I’m so sorry about what happened with Kyle. I wanted to help him find his confidence. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
Things would have been different if her response held any of the arrogance or posturing of our initial encounter. I might not have fallen if I hadn’t seen the honest remorse in her eyes.
“The sub he worked with would have been hard for an experienced Dom to handle. She was, for lack of a better word, a pain slut.” I hated the phrase, but in this case it fit.
My firm did legal work for Bacchus. I’d reviewed the tape myself, trying to decide how to handle the potential liability.
All the players signed a disclaimer but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t try to sue.
The sub had never given any indication of wanting to use her safe word, and I didn’t believe it was a case of her forgetting.
“She pushed him harder than either of them should have gone. A more experienced Dom would have known how to set limits even while she seemed intent on pushing past them.”
“I guess that makes sense,” she said, looking like it was a very small comfort.
“Not knowing doesn’t make the guy a bad person, but it doesn’t absolve him either.
And it doesn’t make him any less dangerous.
The problem, or one of the problems, is that because of his time with you, Kyle thought he was trained.
He believed he knew more than he did, and it made him take risks he wouldn’t have otherwise. ”
I felt conflicted about the direction our afternoon had taken.
Being able to talk to her about what she’d been doing wrong and more importantly having her hear and understand it gave me an enormous sense of satisfaction, but I hated seeing the way her thoughts had turned in on themselves.
She’d slipped out of the present in the courtyard with me and back into the spiral of her work and the past. That didn’t work for me.
“Our time’s not up yet.” I pinned her with my gaze until she had no choice but to look up at me. “We can talk more later if you want, but right now I want to get back to where we were.”
Her lips curved in what might have been a grateful smile and she nodded. As I watched, she drew in a shaky breath and her chest rose under the fabric of my suit coat.
“Take off my jacket.”
It was comfortable in the courtyard, not the normal muggy heat of early September. The shade and fountain kept it from ever feeling like the oven the rest of the city could feel like, but it wasn’t so cool she needed the jacket and I wanted to see her nipples through the silk of her blouse.
“I thought you wanted me to feel it move over my breasts and imagine your hands on me?”
I loved the fact that she remembered that part of my instructions ahead of the part about not letting anyone else see her. And I loved that she was so eager to move past our conversation and meet me back in the present.
“Pretend my gaze is the same as my touch. We both know you’re good at pretending and I want to see the way your nipples tighten underneath the silk.”
She slipped the jacket off with a practiced ease that let me know we were heading back into familiar territory for her.
I swear this woman took her clothes off the same way other women put them on, with no sense of false modesty at all.
She turned to put the jacket on the back of her chair and I took it from her, draping it across my lap and my thickening cock.
Fuck, everything she did made me hard for her.
I would be the one to put the jacket back on her when we were ready to leave.
Catching and holding her defiant gaze for a moment, I saw her shift so she sat straighter in her chair, shoulders back and spine bowed slightly to press her breasts toward me.
Taking my time, I let my gaze follow the curve of her jaw, down the slender column of her throat to pause at the place her heart beat hard under her pale skin.
She slid halfway back into her sex kitten persona, but her body gave her away.
The hammering of her pulse meant she wasn’t as immune to this as she might pretend.
My gaze followed the line of her collarbone, peeking out from the open neckline of her blouse.
I couldn’t wait to run my tongue along the same path my gaze took, and I didn’t bother trying to hide my desire from her.
I couldn’t expect honesty from her if I didn’t offer it up myself—at least in part.
I wanted her. It would be foolish to try to hide it.
The swell of her breasts and the dip between was just visible at the edge of her blouse.
Sometime very soon I was going to hang a rough-cut diamond around her neck and watch the way it flashed against her gorgeous flesh.
Her already hard nipples tightened to points under my gaze.
I’d put diamonds there as well. Small jewels on chains that I could cinch around the tips of her swollen nipples.
She’d wear them until her breasts ached with the pleasure of the bite of pain and then I’d take them off with my teeth, suckling her abused flesh until I got her to come with nothing more than my mouth.
“Fuck.” She breathed out the word, more of a prayer than a curse, and I wondered for a second if I’d spoken aloud.
It was my turn to arch a brow at her. Her dark eyes had dilated to almost black and her cheeks flushed a pretty rose color. I wondered if the rest of her skin would flush as easily, and my cock throbbed at the idea.
“The way you look at me. As if I’m treasure and you’re some kind of pirate.” She let the rest of the thought trail off and her posture slipped from posing to something that managed to be both more relaxed and somehow more vulnerable at the same time.
“You’re beautiful, Alexandra. Your body and your mind. You’re meant to be savored.” I let the words carry the certainty I felt. I didn’t doubt she was used to being desired, but I had a feeling honest appreciation was another thing entirely. I didn’t have any trouble giving her that.
Ignoring my aching cock, throbbing in time with the beat of my heart, I watched her for a few moments longer, like a diabetic with his face pressed against the window of a candy shop.
I intended to look my fill, but I wouldn’t touch her again.
Not yet. Not until she begged me for it and only then if I was sure she was really ready.
Every breath she took drew the silk across her tight nipples and I imagined what it must feel like to her.
What it would feel like for me to put my mouth on her and suckle her through the silk.
Watching her shallow breaths, I tortured us both by keeping her on edge and denying myself what I wanted from her.
When she squirmed in her chair, shifting to press her thighs together to relieve some of the ache, I didn’t bother to hide my grin.