Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(48)
He finished by cupping her cheek and ran his thumb over her lips, leaving tingles behind. Taking a knee in front of her, he removed her duty belt and unzipped her pants.
As her slacks and thong dropped down around her ankles, her hands fisted. She’d told Peter not to mess with her clothes. Why hadn’t she refused Holt? A sound escaped her.
His steely-blue gaze lifted, and he ran his hand up and down her bare thigh. “It’s tough to be naked, isn’t it? Almost all of the submissives and bottoms have a…moment…the first time they’re stripped down.”
The sympathy helped. Kind of.
He patted her left knee. “Lift, pet.”
A second later, her pants and thong were tossed on top of his toy bag. Oh, sweet heavens, she really was naked and not in her own bedroom. Suddenly, she realized how many people were in the room. The Dommes and their submissives. Someone using the leather-covered table. Another over—
“Josie. Where is your gaze supposed to be?” Holt was still in front of her, on one knee. His voice was soft but held a stomach-quivering warning.
She’d screwed up. “On you, Sir.” She looked down at him and realized he wasn’t angry. Just correcting her.
“Better.” Buckling cuffs around her right ankle, he ran a finger inside to ensure the fit wasn’t too tight, and drew her leg outward. He lifted a stone in the floor to reveal a chain attached to an embedded ring, then hooked her ankle cuff to the chain and repeated the process on her left leg. After an assessing look, he adjusted the attachment to force her legs open into a wide V.
The position wasn’t uncomfort-able…exactly…but she now realized how useful her thighs had been at concealing and guarding her vulnerable bits.
As he rose, he validated her concern by cupping her mound and pussy.
Shocked, she sucked in a breath. He was touching her…there. Intimately. As if he had the right. The possessive, authoritative gesture shook her.
He didn’t move. Slowly the warmth of his powerful hand seeped into her skin, heating her insides—and making her clit swell in response.
Biting her lip, she stared into his perceptive eyes.
He was like a chameleon, so sociable with his caressingly smoky voice and easy smile, but at his core, there was an almost terrifying Dominant. One who didn’t care what anyone thought. Once they entered this room, he’d never looked around; all his attention was on her. “Josie, tell me what your safeword is again.”
Her what? Oh. Safeword. “Red to stop. Yellow to slow?”
“Very good.” His lips curved again. “You may also use green to say everything’s great and keep going.”
“Oh. Okay, cool.” Why did it feel as if her skin had tingles of electricity running over it? “What now? Sir.”
He chuckled and ran his finger down her cheek. “Now I enjoy myself and play with this curvy body you’ve so sweetly offered.”
“I did what?” Offered? She hadn’t offered…only, she really had, hadn’t she? Just by agreeing to this scene.
“I’m going to learn what you like, what you don’t like…and then mix everything up until that busy little mind of yours shuts down.” The words sounded almost like a threat—and yet melted every bone in her body.
He saw that too.
Damn, Josie was sweet. He’d removed her clothing, her mobility, and opened her to his touch. As he’d slowly eliminated her choices, one by one, she’d slid further into a submissive state.
Holt grasped her nape, ran his fingers through her short hair, and gave the strands a firm tug.
Her soft exhalation told him all he needed to know. Some places on a woman’s body were erotic; some increased her sense of vulnerability. In Josie’s case, pulling her hair did both.
Interesting. He liked long hair—winding it around a fist was fun. But her short cut was perfect for both her personality and her face. And was much safer around floggers.
He kissed her, taking his time, nibbling on her plump lower lip, licking the curve of the upper, before aggressively taking his fill of her mouth. The way she responded stirred all his senses—and melted his heart.
When he stepped back, her eyes had a slightly unfocused look.
“Let’s get you warmed up.”
Her brows drew together in confusion since she undoubtedly already felt toasty after that kiss. He sure did. But he didn’t mean sexually heated—he meant the blood flow to her skin.
He took his time, rubbing his hands over her shoulders, back, ass, and thighs, waking and tautening the skin. Reaching around her, he did the same on her front—and pleased himself by fondling her cute breasts, her soft stomach, her upper thighs. Rubbing changed to patting, light slaps, light pinches.
Her brows drew together sometimes when he did something unexpected, then she’d relax again. Her eyelids had lowered; her lips parted. She was slowly getting drawn into simply…feeling. He kept his hands on her, never moving away, keeping the tie between them—physical and emotional—strong.
The lightweight flogger had falls thick enough to give her a thuddy sensation. He teased the strands over her back, her ass, her stomach and breasts. Such a pretty sight—her tight pale pink nipples through the brown leather strands. When he stroked over her neck and shoulders, she’d inhale the scent of the leather with each breath.
Watching her closely, he lightly flipped the falls against her shoulders. Her lips curved up slightly. He worked his way from side to side, avoiding spine and kidneys, moving down toward her ass and upper thighs. Down, then up, repeating the cycle until her skin was an attractively rosy color. Her muscles were loose, and she was still smiling. Yeah, she was enjoying herself as much as he was.