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"You can choose to have a Mistress. You can desire her, have something for yourself. That's okay. You don't have to play her."
He didn't usually ask but he wanted to, to hear her answer. "Can I kiss you?"
"You may."
He gripped her shoulders, drew her to him. He had no plan for the type of kiss. He usually opted for the tongue-sucking, deep-penetrating, make-her-knees-weak kind of thing, but as he closed the distance between them, other desires took over. He pressed his mouth lightly, so very lightly, over hers, teasing her with a hint of tongue. His lips were trembling a little, or maybe that was hers. His cock swelled against the hold of the straps. It was crazy, how one teasing kiss could rouse him as much as a far more passionate one, as if that brief press of lips had whispered all sorts of things to him, things that made him wish they were in a far less public place.
Her hands came up to hold his elbows, caressing gently.
"There you are," she murmured as he drew back, only enough so that he could bring her liquid dark eyes into focus, the thick lashes and slim, silken brows. Her mouth was wet and lush, a plum color. "See? I knew you'd find me. When you came over here, you wanted to sit at my feet, didn't you? You feel steadier there."
He nodded. "But I get it. This is your job."
"We're not at my job yet. And it's not likely I'll meet anyone in this lounge that is. If that's the case, it wouldn't matter. I'd just say my male companion isn't comfortable in these cushiony chairs because they hurt his back." She flashed him a quick grin, but then the expression disappeared, replaced by all-Mistress. "Come."
When she returned to her chair, he followed. He sat at her feet, putting his back against the chair he wasn't using, his arms locked loosely around his bent knees, body against her knee where she sat on her hip on the chair, legs folded at an angle away from him. She played idly with his hair as she studied the view out the window. "I think I see Peter's plane coming in now. Have you ever met him or his friends at The Zone?"
She was relaxed, helping him to relax. As if him nearly freaking out was an okay thing, something they could move past without dwelling on it. He still had frogs going in his belly, and his lower back had dampened the shirt with nervous sweat, but he found he could follow her lead back to a normal keel.
"Yeah. They're a good group. Good Doms. Never had a problem with them when DM'ing or on security. Really protective of their hot sub wives."
She tugged his hair. "Figures that's what you'd remember."
He looked up at her with a trace of a smile, taking his time getting to her face. "Not appreciating a beautiful woman is a crime."
She sniffed. "Have you ever done an interrogation scene?"
"No. Witnessed a lot of them, though." He shrugged, feeling a trickle of uneasiness. "Wouldn't say no to you, but not sure if they're my thing. That sense of...being caught between a rock and a hard place, having to hold out as long as you can..."
"Puts you in a weird headspace."
"Yeah."
"Maybe you've had the wrong kind of interrogation." Regina considered, her fingertips drifting down over his ears and neck. "If it wouldn't have been too conspicuous today, I would have had you wear a collar. I like playing with it and tugging. Would you like that?"
The idea jolted him, so it took him a second to answer casually. It was also gratifying, having her ask his opinion. "Yeah. But I also like the bracelet."
"Who says you can't wear both?" She swept him with a your-ass-is-totally-mine look that cinched around his cock and balls even tighter than the harness. "A Mistress can put as many marks of ownership on her sub as she wishes, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now, back to the interrogation thing. I thought I could pull in Mistress Lyda. I'd tell you a secret about me no one else knows. And you could reveal the secret to her, or follow her commands to top me."
His gaze snapped back up. "I thought you said...I didn't want to do that." He cleared his throat and said it for himself. "I don't want to top."
"Well, then, all you have to do is not reveal the secret." But her smile disappeared, and she put her hand on his shoulder.
"It was an idea I was playing with early on, when I wasn't sure if you understood that you truly had no desire to top. I'm not going to do that to you, Duncan. I think you've already been placed in enough untenable positions in your life. Some subs enjoy interrogation, the push-pull of their emotions. You wouldn't. I'm a hardass, but I'm not cruel."
Hiding his relief, he looked down at his hands. "But I've been cruel. So I'd probably deserve it."
"Karma deliverer isn't in my Mistress job description. What you and I do isn't about that. If you've been cruel, you make amends the right way." Her eyes twinkled, though her lips remained serious. "On your own time, not mine."
He laid his head back on the chair seat to look up at her. Her touch drifted to his throat, sliding down into the unbuttoned collar of the shirt to stroke him. He liked the way it felt, but her words couldn't help but open up a track in his mind that led back to those other Mistresses.
Could he make amends? How would he go about it? Maybe she'd help him understand the best way about it, if he raised enough courage--or enough trust--to ask. She'd said she'd be his friend, right? Was that what a friend could do?
He shifted uncomfortably. He was so wrapped up in her, and she was right; a lot of this was spillover from all that intense emotional crap. In a few days, it wouldn't be as intense. He might not be seeing things as clearly right now, making way more of this than it was. BDSM interactions could get way intense, but at the end of sessions, often people put on their clothes and went home to another, or by themselves.
