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She found, however, that her less omnipotent self had to use the support of the door jam for a moment or two, as she reminded herself to breathe.
It had taken her a half-hour at the makeup vanity to achieve the effect she wanted for herself, and Marcus had made good use of the time. She was hard put not to moan in sheer tortured delight at what lay before her, a piece of artwork better than anything the Salernos had paid five figures to own.
Marcus had cuffed Josh on the St. Andrew's Cross, strapping three lines of restraints on each limb to severely inhibit movement. Straps bound Josh at the ankle, calf and mid thigh for each leg, and the wrist, elbow and bicep for the arms. Another strap was around his throat, another at his forehead, holding his head immobilized against one of the adjustable cross pieces. Marcus had even added a strap at Josh's waist that threaded through another cross bar, moved to his lower back for support. The result was that he could move very little, if at all. He was totally, magnificently, at her mercy, his body gleaming with the light sheen of sandalwood oill Marcus had slicked onto every expanse of skin.
The head mask was on, as she had ordered, covering all that beautiful hair and his eyes. His mouth was visible and open, nervous tongue darting out repeatedly to wet dry lips. His nostrils were flared, his body tense, straining with the remaining senses to detect her return.
He was afraid, that was obvious, but overwhelmingly aroused. It was the ultimate state of vulnerability, when a Dom could bring pleasure and joy, or prey upon the sub's darkest emotions and fear.
"Jesus Christ, you are fucking beautiful. "
It was a reflection of her own thoughts, but after Lauren blinked and focused on something other than Josh, she saw Marcus was talking about her. She had hardly noticed him once she saw Josh, but now she registered that he had had time to get into the spirit of things himself. He had paid a visit to the costume room and changed into the flowing white and gold robe of a pharaoh, open to show a tanned bare chest and loose silken white pants beneath, sheer enough to suggest the dark smudge of his privates and pubic hair. His feet were bare. If she didn't know his proclivities were not for her sex, and if her mind and heart were not so engaged to the man to his left, her mouth would water. As it was, he made an impact on her blood, which was already moving back from simmer into boil.
He smiled, and it was slow, appreciative and feral, one alpha acknowledging the power of another. "You could make a man think about changing teams for a night or two, love. "
She laughed, a soft purr of sound, and strolled out, sauntered as if Josh could see her, let him imagine by her cadence the generous swing of her hips, the quiver of her breasts that resulted from the reverberation of her spiked heels with the stone. The ankle wrap she had tightened and left on beneath the supple covering of the boot was holding up well, as long as she kept her movements slow and deliberate.
She sidled up to Josh, one casual step at a time, until she was close enough for him to smell the exotic oils she had rubbed on herself. She drifted a finger along the slippery line of his neck, down his colla
r bone. "Are you nervous, Josh?"
A quick jerk of his head.
"But not scared of me, I hope. " Her voice was soft, sensual, teasing, but with an undercurrent of seriousness. It was so easy to do this, so easy to do this with him.
The faint musk odor of his oill teased her senses and she indulged, her eyes roaming appreciatively over the slick muscles and flanks. The lighting in the room had been adjusted so the recessed spotlights were positioned to reflect off of the glistening thighs. Lauren swallowed at the sight of his stiff cock, so aroused the glans brushed his belly. It had not been oiled, cloaked in only its natural satin-over-steel smoothness, a bit of fluid leaking from the tip glossing the top.
"No, Mistress. " It was just above a whisper. He was scared, but she knew by instinct it was his own soul, and the shadows that were rising from it, that were frightening him. A Dom had to bring the nightmares out, let them loose, so there would be nothing between Master and sub but trust, and pleasure, mutual devotion.
The thought brought an ache to her throat and tears to her eyes, and she felt a moment of true sadness.
This time, there was no familiar sour taste of bitterness, or the taste of Jonathan. There was only Josh, and the pain and desire she felt for him.
She moved closer to Josh, and very gently stroked her knuckles across his lips, framed by the mask. It was a reassuring touch, though her proximity brushed her thighs against his arousal and made them both quiver.
"You know what I think about when I'm scared, Josh?"
He shook his head, then remembered. "Butterflies, Mistress. "
She smiled. "You are so good. Just remember that. Okay?"
He swallowed. He was doing that a lot, and she found the nervousness charming, and arousing. She laid a soft kiss on his lips, which trembled under hers with his uncertainty and passion, and she murmured against them. "I'm here, Josh, and I'm going to make it all right. You're going to give me everything, and I'm going to heal it, and put it back inside you. Okay?"
She had no doubt of it, certain of her power, her role, dressed the part, in the right surroundings.
He shook his head, too overcome to speak, and she stepped back from him. "Are you doubting me, Josh?" She allowed enough ice to creep into her tone to make sure he felt the chill as solidly as a touch from her hand. One slight flick, and the whip end coiled around his ankle, just a whispering touch, then it was gone again. He jerked, his breath catching in his throat.
"You will hold nothing back from me, Josh. Try all you want, but you know who is Mistress here.
Marcus," she tilted her head toward the other man. He was watching them both, a morass of things she could not read moving behind his expressive eyes.
"Josh is going to find it very difficult to control himself," she warned. "I don't want to have to be too cruel to him. Please put this on him, and make it as tight as he can stand it. "
She lifted her other hand, which held a web of straps, and silver chain. Marcus's eyes flickered to it and then back up to her face. She waited. Would he refuse? Josh was his friend, and he had already warned her he would brook no unreasonable measures against his friend. Could he read her intentions?
Lauren took a step, laid the device in his palm and closed his fingers over it, then her hand over his, tightening her grip. It's okay , she mouthed.
Whatever he saw in her eyes satisfied him, for he nodded, curled his fingers briefly over hers, and took the device from her hand.
