she wanted, if anything beyond that.
Did she just want a bed to sleep in? Did she want someone to talk to through the night? Did she want to push me as I wanted to push her? I hadn’t been sure and to be honest, I still wasn’t. It could be all of the above and I wouldn’t blame her.
If she was serious, though, wanting what I’d told her I would do to her, I wasn’t going to argue. I would take her at her word. I would strip her. I would fuck her through the sheets. God only knew I’d wanted to do so since the first moment I saw her in the café.
The pictures in The Club stirred something inside me, but seeing her in person, did something more to me, things I hadn’t expected, things I couldn’t remember ever feeling before.
Getting inside her head had been a trip I hadn’t been prepared for. I couldn’t begin to imagine her pain, her suffering, her loneliness. I understood being parted from a partner in BDSM and how it left one feeling lost for a time because even Dominants went through it, experienced the whipping in the wind feeling when things ended. But what she went through? I couldn’t put into words.
I brushed hair from her face and traced her features with my fingertips. She was pale and perfect. Sorrow had made her look nearly untouchable, but seeing it lifted from her eyes, made her look sensual. There were no clouds in the depths, but rather a desire I had up to now, only dreamt about seeing.
She didn’t move and she barely took a breath when I began unbuttoning her shirt. She wore the same outfit each time I saw her in the café, with only variations in color and cut. But it was always casual slacks in black, flats, also in black, and a button down shirt in different colors. Today it was black and white stripes.
I liked the way she dressed, the way she held herself in her business. She was professional, not flashy. But it did make me wonder how she dressed outside the bookstore. She’d said she only ever went to work and back home.
I wanted to change that pattern, that routine.
I parted the sides of her shirt and the fullness of her breasts would’ve made a weaker man drop to his knees. “You said you had body issues?”
“U-used to.”
I shook my head. “I have no fucking idea why you would.” The bra she wore lifted them and was pretty against her skin; deep blue with lace edges. Her belly wasn’t exactly flat, but it wasn’t large either. She did have a whittled waist and as I unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, I couldn’t help licking my lips.
I pushed and the fabric gave way to reveal rounded hips. Revealing her body to my gaze was going to test every ounce of my resolve and self-control.
She stood in an open shirt with matching bra and panties, wiggling her pants down her legs until she was able to step out of them. I debated my next words, but spoke them anyway, softly, while brushing her skin with my hands. “I can see why he wanted to show you off. I can see why he liked seeing you in sheer lingerie. You’re beautiful, Claire. Simply, and utterly, beautiful.”
I wanted my tongue licking every inch of her skin. I wanted my tongue tasting her nipples, her sex, her bottom. I wanted the feel of her imprinted on me from my taste buds to the pads of my fingers. I wanted to know her, inside and out, and then I wanted to learn it all again, because it would be different. It would change each time I had her. More of her would come to the surface, more for me to devour.
I hadn’t let myself think too much about any of this. I hadn’t wanted the frustration it would bring if I’d never had the chance. Now, I couldn’t stop the thoughts, the needs, the hungers for the woman standing half naked in my living room.
“Come with me,” I said, walking around her and down the hall. I didn’t turn to look. I could hear her footfalls behind me, but more importantly, I could feel her. She wouldn’t disobey. On the contrary, she wanted very much to obey, perhaps, needed to do
Did she just want a bed to sleep in? Did she want someone to talk to through the night? Did she want to push me as I wanted to push her? I hadn’t been sure and to be honest, I still wasn’t. It could be all of the above and I wouldn’t blame her.
If she was serious, though, wanting what I’d told her I would do to her, I wasn’t going to argue. I would take her at her word. I would strip her. I would fuck her through the sheets. God only knew I’d wanted to do so since the first moment I saw her in the café.
The pictures in The Club stirred something inside me, but seeing her in person, did something more to me, things I hadn’t expected, things I couldn’t remember ever feeling before.
Getting inside her head had been a trip I hadn’t been prepared for. I couldn’t begin to imagine her pain, her suffering, her loneliness. I understood being parted from a partner in BDSM and how it left one feeling lost for a time because even Dominants went through it, experienced the whipping in the wind feeling when things ended. But what she went through? I couldn’t put into words.
I brushed hair from her face and traced her features with my fingertips. She was pale and perfect. Sorrow had made her look nearly untouchable, but seeing it lifted from her eyes, made her look sensual. There were no clouds in the depths, but rather a desire I had up to now, only dreamt about seeing.
She didn’t move and she barely took a breath when I began unbuttoning her shirt. She wore the same outfit each time I saw her in the café, with only variations in color and cut. But it was always casual slacks in black, flats, also in black, and a button down shirt in different colors. Today it was black and white stripes.
I liked the way she dressed, the way she held herself in her business. She was professional, not flashy. But it did make me wonder how she dressed outside the bookstore. She’d said she only ever went to work and back home.
I wanted to change that pattern, that routine.
I parted the sides of her shirt and the fullness of her breasts would’ve made a weaker man drop to his knees. “You said you had body issues?”
“U-used to.”
I shook my head. “I have no fucking idea why you would.” The bra she wore lifted them and was pretty against her skin; deep blue with lace edges. Her belly wasn’t exactly flat, but it wasn’t large either. She did have a whittled waist and as I unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, I couldn’t help licking my lips.
I pushed and the fabric gave way to reveal rounded hips. Revealing her body to my gaze was going to test every ounce of my resolve and self-control.
She stood in an open shirt with matching bra and panties, wiggling her pants down her legs until she was able to step out of them. I debated my next words, but spoke them anyway, softly, while brushing her skin with my hands. “I can see why he wanted to show you off. I can see why he liked seeing you in sheer lingerie. You’re beautiful, Claire. Simply, and utterly, beautiful.”
I wanted my tongue licking every inch of her skin. I wanted my tongue tasting her nipples, her sex, her bottom. I wanted the feel of her imprinted on me from my taste buds to the pads of my fingers. I wanted to know her, inside and out, and then I wanted to learn it all again, because it would be different. It would change each time I had her. More of her would come to the surface, more for me to devour.
I hadn’t let myself think too much about any of this. I hadn’t wanted the frustration it would bring if I’d never had the chance. Now, I couldn’t stop the thoughts, the needs, the hungers for the woman standing half naked in my living room.
“Come with me,” I said, walking around her and down the hall. I didn’t turn to look. I could hear her footfalls behind me, but more importantly, I could feel her. She wouldn’t disobey. On the contrary, she wanted very much to obey, perhaps, needed to do
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