“Want to see my etchings?” She liked the way his eyes twinkled when he gestured toward the hallway and issued the clichéd invitation.
“Why not?” A long time ago Selina had decided to ditch feminine subterfuge and go after what she wanted. What she wanted now was for Tom to take her, steal away her choices and fucking make her come. Putting on her best Domme façade, she started down the hallway. “What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?”
“No, honey, I already issued one.” He came up behind her, his body radiating heat. Before she could take a breath, he had his hands under her sweater and was cupping her breasts, tugging at the rings through the sturdy fabric of her bra. “I ought to use these to tie you to a wall. Make you play with them while I use a flogger to strike your impudent butt. Would you like it if I use dildos to warm your ass and cunt before I fuck you?”
She shuddered at the thought of him making her helpless the way her ex had often done. “No restraints. Please.” Everything else he suggested had her heart beating faster, every cell in her body anticipating what she hadn't had for years. Mastery. A strong man asserting his will on her body and heart. Commanding her acceptance and pleasure without compelling her submission.
He stilled his hands, steering her to a doorway on the left, into a large room dominated by a king size four poster bed draped with a Lone Star patterned quilt. A sheepskin lay folded at the foot of the bed, its texture soft and inviting. As inviting as the leather flogger he’d just set on the night stand was intimidating yet ever so arousing. When she glanced the other way, a reflection greeted her from the mirrored wall.
His hands firmly on her waist, he stood behind her. Every throbbing prod of his cock against her ass cheeks made her want him more, but she was afraid. Not of him, but of what he’d think when he saw her in the bright light of the room and recognized not the in-control Domme he’d met at the club, but instead a scared, overweight woman with more insecurities than she wanted anyone ever to recognize.
As if he read her fear, he drew her closer. “No restraints. I promise. Not if they’re not your thing. I'm here to make you feel good. Give you pleasure. Make you let go and share all the sensations. I want you to come until you can't come any more. Then I want to sleep with you, feel your heart beating next to mine.”
“I want that, too.” Not that Selina thought she would ever get it. Might as well let her fears loose, voice them before he could do it. “But I'm afraid when you see me you're not going to want that anymore.”
“I see you, baby. I see a woman who makes my cock rise with anticipation. With clothes or without, you're going to turn me on.“ He squeezed her corseted waist. “Come on, let's get these things off you. I can tell you all night long that I like my women with a little meat on their bones, but you're not going to believe me until I show you.”
How did he know? Was she that obvious? Steeling herself for the disappointment she was certain she’d see in his eyes, she peeled off her sweater and looped her thumbs into the elastic waistband of her slacks. For a long time she stood there, wishing to God she'd stuck with that diet the last time and cursing the lingerie manufacturers who limited the kind of support she needed to ugly black or white garments without the least bit of potential for sexual titillation.
Tom cleared his throat. “Come on, don't make me wait. Want some help with the corset?”
“No.” All she needed was for him to unlace the thing and watch her waistline inflate like a balloon on steroids. “I'd like to leave it on if that's okay with you.” At that moment Selina realized one of the benefits of masquerading as a Domme. No sub would dare insist she disrobe any more than she wanted to. And if he intended to pursue a relationship, he'd keep his mouth shut about her excess flab.
No such luck with a Master, and Tom definitely was that. When she made no move to finish disrobing, he shed his own clothes and took her in his arms. His touch was strong yet gentle when he unhooked her bra and let her breasts hang free. “Beautiful,” he murmured, cupping them, raising them so he could unfasten the bow that held her corset lacing tight.
She held her breath, as if that might lessen the shock of him seeing her waist expand by a full four inches when the corset came off. “How do you stand wearing this thing?” he asked, rubbing his fingers over the reddened flesh he was uncovering. “It can’t be good for you.”
Oh, yeah, she'd almost forgotten the guy had mentioned he was a doctor as well as a Dom. “Go ahead, tell me I need to lose about sixty or seventy pounds. Everybody else does.”
“Right now I want to touch and squeeze and love all however many pounds of you there are. I’ll leave the weight management lectures to whichever of my lucky colleagues may be taking care of you for that.” As if punctuating his statement, he slid her panties down and bent to kiss the rose tattoo on the inside of one quivering thigh. “I like this.”
She was naked. Completely naked. The light was incredibly bright, casting its evil illumination on every flabby inch of her as well as on every perfectly sculpted muscle on Tom's magnificent body. When he stood, she saw his cock, hard as stone and rising up against his flat belly. His PA ring brushed his navel. “Told you I’d like it. I like you, honey, a lot. So does my cock. Now lie down on that sheepskin and let me show you I can give pleasure as well as take it.”
When she turned back the quilt, spread the sheepskin in the center of the big bed, and lay down, she felt like a specimen pinned down for examination under a high-powered microscope. Even the soft fuzz of the sheepskin caressing her backside didn’t distract her from that glaring illumination. The recessed overhead lights seemed as though they all were focused on nothing but her much less than perfect body. “The lights. Turn them off. Please.”
“No, baby. I want to see you. Close your eyes if you don't want to look at me, too.” He turned away for a minute, as if giving her time to become accustomed to the light and the fact he wasn't going to turn it off.
She did want to look at him. Who wouldn't? The guy was sex personified, obviously in charge all the way, yet not a domineering bastard with a mean streak, like her ex-husband and so many of the Doms she’d encountered in the BDSM community. Lying back against the cushion of the sheepskin, watching him choose toys from the nightstand drawer, Selina tried not to think about how she must look compared with the slender Snake Woman and every other partner that he’d played sex games with.
