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She'd made the assumption he did trust her. Well he did, more than he had any Mistress before, except maybe Marguerite that one time, but that wasn't saying much. Fuck it all, what was he doing?
"Keep looking at your Mistress," Dale said quietly. "Breathe. Just one-two-three in, one-two-three out. Regina says you fight professionally. What do you do to get yourself in the right headspace for that? Keep looking at her."
Marius's gaze had started to stray to the dog panting near his foot. The sound was like the chuff of a slowing train. He brought his gaze back to Regina. She had that faintly stern, set expression that could steady him because it said she had things firmly in hand.
"I go deep, ground myself, I guess. Hard to explain. Everything else disappears except pounding the other guy until he can't stand up anymore."
"Okay. Take the front end of that. Quiet is the key. I don't want you to look at Tempest. Just reach down and touch her back. Stroke her fur."
It was just petting a dog. What the hell? "Regina..."
Taking his hand, she lifted it to her chest, pried open the fist he didn't know he was making and laid his palm on the upper rise of her breast, over her heart. She put her own palm on his chest. "Breathe with me."
He did it, locking gazes with her, feeling soft flesh and her heartbeat. "You keep looking at me," she said. "And when it feels right, reach down and touch her. It will be fine. But right now, there's just me. Look at me and breathe. Remember when I had you gagged and bound in the shower this morning? Imagine you're back in that space. You can't speak, you can't free your hands. You simply have to do as you're told, but you're safe. Incredibly safe. You can do no harm here. I won't let you."
She was saying this stuff in front of another male, a Dom at that. He should be getting pissed and defensive. But her heartbeat was a steady thud under his palm, her eyes so intent and calm at once, telling him nothing else mattered but what she was telling him to do. It was keeping those images at bay, the cries of the past, trying so hard to form a hurricane in his head.
Marius focused on her mouth, the glitter of the beads in her hair. The cleavage her shirt revealed, the generous curves of her breast. "I feel like an idiot," he admitted. "I can't do what any kid can do. Pet a damn dog."
"Mice completely freak me out," she informed him. "Even Mickey. He gives me nightmares. Dana says I was an elephant in a previous life."
It made him smile, as he was sure she intended. He breathed and listened to her heart, as his own slowed. His thumb curved under the collar of her T-shirt to stroke in time with it. She didn't tell him that he couldn't.
He was aware of Dale sitting silently with them, the dogs panting, a rhythm that went along with the rest, slowed things down. Dale didn't have that irritating Dom vibe that seemed to take up too much space, pushing at Marius's defenses. The guy looked more than capable of it, but he could also be this. He guessed it was the same way Regina could be all different types of Mistress, depending on the moment.
He could do this. He could.
Keeping his eyes on Regina, he removed his hand from her to brace his palm on the table and leaned down, reaching blind with the other. "A little to your left," Dale said, wisely realizing touching him wouldn't be a good idea. Marius made the course correction and suddenly had his hand on the dog's head. Soft, sleek, alive and warm. He stroked down the thick neck, thinking of how he stroked Regina. Her skin was smooth and warm, much like the dog's fur. Tempest moved her head to accommodate his touch. Just the way Regina did when she liked what he was doing.
"When you're ready, look at her," Dale instructed. "Don't stare her down. Just make eye contact like you would the cashier at the grocery store, friendly and relaxed. Keep your mind empty if you can. If you feel yourself winding up, look at how you're petting her instead of at her face. If you're still getting uptight, look at your Mistress, and then try it again. We have plenty of time. If you get overloaded, we'll let them go play and bring them back when you're ready."
Marius turned his head and met the dog's gaze. Nope, too soon. It sucked him down immediately, that abyss, and he snatched his hand back as if burned, making both dogs jump. Dale settled them with a word and a touch as Marius jerked his eyes to Regina. His heart was thudding in his throat again, and sweat popped up between his shoulder blades, the creases of his palms.
"Hey." She grasped his wrist, stroking it before she put his hand back over her heart. "Again," she murmured. "As long as you want to try. No pressure, sweet boy. You're all right. You've got this."
He wanted to shake his head, say no way, but she was looking at him, believing he could do this, and he wanted to please her. It was petting a damn dog. That was all.
The second try lasted a few seconds longer, so he tried not to despair as he had to reel back his agitation again. He didn't want to inflict his sweaty palm on her clothes or skin, but Regina gave him no choice. She held her hand over his on her breast and wouldn't let him pull away.
"She told you about me, didn't she?" he said to Dale as his breathing leveled again. Marius didn't look toward him. He could only look at Regina.
"Yeah, but it was in confidence and goes no farther than here." Dale's voice was neutral, easy. "She knew I needed to understand where your head was at to walk you t
hrough this."
Regina didn't look as if she thought she'd betrayed his trust, and Marius guessed she hadn't. She'd shared the info to help him.
Once more. This time, when the dog's head turned to him, he met the gaze but imagined Regina's eyes, her curving mouth, the touch of her hand and her body. Supporting him, surrounding him, guiding him. He moved his attention to the massive head, the powerful body. As he trailed his fingers over that terrain, Tempest seemed pleased, her panting mouth like a smile filled with laughter.
"She's liking it. My touch."
"You sound surprised." Regina's voice was gentle, teasing. "I like it very much. You have good hands, a good touch."
"You let a sub touch you?" Dale raised a brow. "Getting soft, Mistress."
Regina made a face at him and Shotgun sat up, eyes alight as if he'd been given an invitation to play. "Yeah, you've been good a whole five minutes," Dale informed him. "A miracle." He produced a ball and spoke two words. "Shotgun. Chase." When he fired it off toward the closest stack of junk cars, the male dog charged after it. Tempest remained where she was, placidly accepting Marius's stroking of her neck, his long glides down her smooth back.
"Shotgun's quite a bit younger than Tempest. Tempest is my matriarch. She's seven."
