“Oh God,” I moan. “Please. Oh God, Sir…”
He thrusts two fingers into me. When I buck, he sets his other hand on the small of my back to hold me steady. He fucks my channel with his fingers, making sure to touch my clit with every pass.
I cry out, my orgasm consuming me so quickly that my vision blurs and I can’t focus on anything except how amazing it feels to come for him. And he knows exactly how to play my body. He thrusts through the pulsing and eases off at just the right moment when his touch would have become too sensitive.
I’m shaking almost violently as he leans over and kisses a line up my spine. When he reaches my ponytail, he pushes it to the side and then kisses my neck.
My eyes are closed as he lifts me into his arms and carries me over to the loveseat. He cradles me against him, making me feel so incredibly safe and secure. As he tucks a blanket around me, I start shaking.
Master Hudson rocks me gently, brushing loose hairs from my face, his big hands all over me, rubbing, caressing, soothing.
I’m afraid to open my eyes and break the spell. I’m afraid of a lot of things.
Master Hudson strokes my cheek. “You okay?”
I blink up at him finally and smile.
He returns the grin. “I guess you liked that.”
“God, yes.”
He chuckles, which vibrates through me. It feels so damn good to snuggle into him. What would it be like for me to have my own Dom? Someone I could trust with everything? That’s jumping way too far ahead in this game. We’re nowhere near something permanent, nor am I inclined to ever hope for a Dom of my own, but this is nice. I’ll take it.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells me. “That was beautiful. I hope you’ll let me do it again.”
I feel my face heat. “I’d like that.”
He hugs me closer. Does he realize he’s rocking me? It’s subtle, but it’s heavenly.
Chapter 5
Master Hudson
After our amazing night last night, I’ve been itching to call Cindy all day. Hell, I wish I could have brought her home with me and tucked her into my bed. I wish for a lot of things, but it took me months to make this much headway with her, and I won’t risk what we have by rushing her.
I still can’t believe she asked me to dominate her. And fuck me, but she was the most glorious sight. When she let me remove her jeans, I thought I might come in my pants. Her tanned skin was so smooth and soft and heated from my floggers. That damn thong nearly made me choke. Somehow, I hadn’t visualized Cindy wearing thongs under those jeans she always wears.
I want to call her. I want to hear her voice. I know she went to her calculus class this morning and worked at the animal shelter afterward, but where is she now? I force myself to settle for texting her. I’ve never called her. Every time I’ve needed to confirm a time or study session, I’ve texted. I worry she might feel pressured from a phone call.
So, I’ve waited until five in the afternoon, and I can’t wait a moment longer.
Hey. I had an amazing time last night. I hope you did too.
I palm my phone and stare at it. I’m a well-known Dom. At my last club in Denver where I was a member for eight years, people scheduled time with me in advance. I’m firm. I’m caring. I have a wide range of expertise. And yet, one small woman has me in knots.
I’ve been in Seattle for several months. I met Cindy within days of arriving. She’s had me in her palm all this time, and she doesn’t even know it.
Finally, those three little dots appear and I breathe again, waiting to see what she might say in response.
I did. Thank you. It was outside of my comfort zone, and I really enjoyed myself.
That’s a lot coming from her.
Good. Want to do it again? Tomorrow night? During your break?
This time I sit stiff, rubbing my palm on my jeans. She could just as easily turn me down. I wouldn’t be shocked if she said, thanks but no thanks. It was a one-time experience. The clock ticks. I wait like a teenager hoping to score a date with the cutest girl in school. Finally, she responds.
I’d like that. Thank you, Sir.
Blessed angels. Now, I’m going to throw in the kitchen sink. Go big or go home and all that.
Bring a bag. Come home with me.
I realize I’ve made a demand. Or maybe she’ll take it as a suggestion. I hold my breath again. If anyone could see me sitting here freaking out over a woman, they would laugh. It’s so unlike me. I’m drawn to this woman like I’ve never been drawn to anyone in my life.
I have no idea how it even started. The first night I stepped into Surrender and saw her, I froze on the spot. Absurd. Who does that? I also assumed she was a member, the kind who actually participated, I mean.
When I realized she never spent time in the club itself, I was disappointed but also determined. I pegged her as submissive from the first night. She has a way about her. Someone outside of the lifestyle wouldn’t notice. It’s subtle. Hell, I’m not sure she’s fully aware herself. It’s possible last night was the first time she fully considered herself submissive. If that didn’t convince her, I’m not sure what would.
It’s in the way she dips her face. How she addresses me. Not with words but with a soft reverence. Most people would say she’s simply shy or introverted, but she’s not. She’s capable of being outgoing and incredibly friendly with the members. I’ve watched her. But when I approach, she takes on a different demeanor.
So, maybe it’s just me. I smile. It’s not the first time I’ve considered this. I’ve hoped and convinced myself she recognizes the same submissive attraction to me that I see in her. The fact that it took me several months to finally manage to get coffee with her though… Was that my fault or hers?
I know part of my reason for not asking sooner was a ridiculous fear of rejection. Not because I don’t have the spine to handle being told no. I’ve heard no before. Plenty. I simply didn’t want to hear it from Cindy. And I believed if I did my due diligence and put in my time, when the opportunity presented itself, she would not turn me down.
I was right. God bless her inept abilities in the field of calculus.
And now, I’ve dominated her, and it rocked my foundation. I’ve had my fingers inside her tight cunt. Heaven. When she came around my hand… Jesus.
It takes forever for her to respond. I’ve nearly given up hope. And then finally.
Okay, Sir.
There is a god.
Now I just have to get through twenty-four hours without seeing her or talking to her. I won’t text or call. She doesn’t need pressure. I feel like I’ve won the lottery though. I know I have.
Chapter 6
Cindy
Thongs are not something I have in abundance. I wear them sometimes. When the mood strikes or when I think I might be in a situation where someone might actually see me without my pants. What a joke. That hasn’t happened in years. Except for the gynecologist, and she doesn’t know or care about my underwear. It’s safely folded between my jeans by the time she enters the exam room.