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He was asking her to move in? Her heart began to race. “Here?”
“It’s actually a two-part request.”
There was more? She held her breath and waited. He reached across the table and took her hands.
“I enjoy our time together, Dena, and I’d like more of it. I want more of you.” His dark eyes were heavy with emotion. “I’d like to offer you my collar.”
She was speechless. She, who Jeff said could talk the bark off a tree, had no words.
“Dena?”
She blinked and realized her eyes were wet. “Jeff,” she finally managed to get out. Pushing back from the table, she walked the few steps to him and climbed in his lap. “Yes,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Yes. Collar me. Make me yours.”
The next weekend she arrived to the playroom early, not surprised to find Jeff inside waiting. Lit candles were everywhere: lining the tables and his cabinets, even placed on the room’s lone window ledge. They should have given the room a soft, romantic look, but she knew there was probably only one reason he’d have candles out.
He looked particularly handsome waiting for her in his black jeans and T-shirt. Dark as the devil himself, her grandmother would say. And Dena had a feeling Jeff would be unusually devilish tonight.
The thought made her smile in spite of her misgivings, and she walked into the room, her nerves at attention just thinking about what he might do to her. His eyes never left her body as she made her way toward him.
He nodded at her, and she dropped to her knees before him, moving quickly into his desired waiting position.
He brushed her cheek. “Why are you here tonight?”
“To become yours, Sir.”
When her previous Dom collared her, he’d invited his friends over. Though she wouldn’t have minded Jeff collaring her with group members present, she thought it more intimate and personal with just the two of them.
“Will you wear my collar, Dena?”
Her heart thumped with anticipation. “Yes, Sir.”
He buckled something around her throat. “It’s black leather, so I won’t ask you to wear it to work. Instead, you’ll wear this.” It was a beautiful silver cufflike bracelet. “It has ‘Property of Master Jeff’ on the inside.” He latched it around her right wrist. “What do you think?”
Her entire body somehow perceived the weight of his ownership. She felt protected and cared for. “I love them, Sir.”
“You will address me as ‘Master’ when we’re in this room.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, delighting in the knowledge that she and she alone held that privilege.
“Kiss my feet in thanks.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to do that, and she’d discovered it was something she enjoyed. There was something raw about kissing someone’s feet. She couldn’t explain why, but the entire process turned her on.
She slid to her elbows and lowered her body. “Thank you for collaring me, Master,” she whispered before placing a kiss on the top of his foot. “I’m honored to wear the symbol of your dominance,” she said before kissing the other.
“I’m honored to have you wear it,” he said. “Now crawl to the table and get on your back.”
She even liked crawling for him, knowing he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She moved slowly, making sure he got an eyeful, and flipped her hair over her shoulder before getting on the table. She usually wore it down for him. He liked to stroke it and loved to pull it.
He’d laid a sheet across the leather table. Nearby were unlit candles, a fire extinguisher, a lighter, and a bowl of ice cubes. Her belly quivered with both excitement and dread. They’d never done wax play before.
“I thought a night as special as this called for candles,” he said, taking a bottle she hadn’t noticed and pouring what appeared to be oil into his hands.
“Very appropriate, Master,” she said even though she wasn’t completely sure.
“Tell me why you’re nervous,” he commanded softly while he started a sensual massage along her upper body. “Why the fear in your eyes?”
For some reason, it always surprised her when he read her emotions like that. No one else had ever been able to do so.
“I’ve only done this a few times,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry. “It wasn’t my favorite.”
He talked while carefully rubbing oil into her upper arms. “This isn’t a hard limit for you.”
“No, Master, and I can already tell this will be different. He didn’t use the oil.”
His hands moved across her chest, and she wanted to relax under his touch, but memories of the past wouldn’t let her.
“The oil makes it easier to get the wax off. Plus, it gives me a reason to touch you all over.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “As if I need one.”
Her heart pounded faster at his words, and she gave him a little smile.
“Here’s how this is going to work.” He moved down her body to coat her belly with oil. “I’m going to continue, and you’re not allowed to think of the past. Anytime a memory tries to enter your mind, you remind yourself that you’re mine and that I’m a jealous Master. Understood?” He looked up and waited.
“Yes, Master.”
He was at her legs now, massaging them with his rhythmic touch. “Remember when you wanted to prove to me that you would be the best submissive I’d ever been with?”
She nodded.
“This is me proving to you that I’m the best. By the end of the night, wax play’s going to be on your Love It list.” He glanced up to her for confirmation, and she saw the determination in his eyes. Hearing him, she almost believed him.
“I can see you don’t quite think so,” he said. “That’s okay. I can be very persuasive.” He took a leg in each hand and spread them. “I want you to stay like this. Do I need to bind you?”
“No, Master.”
“I’m not going to blindfold you either, because it’ll be much harder for you to remember the past when you’re struggling to obey my command to keep your eyes closed.”
Fuck. She hoped she could do this.
He moved to stand at her side, right near the table with the candles and the matches and the—
“Right now,” he said sternly. “Close them.”
She took a deep breath and closed them. This is Jeff. This is Jeff. This is Jeff, she repeated in her head until she’d calmed a bit.
“Good job,” he said.
The room was absurdly still. She took another deep breath. Her hands fisted in the sheets at her sides, and she felt the weight of his cuff. The simple reminder that she was his calmed her further.
A match struck to her side, and the scent of sulfur filled the air.
She tensed but quickly relaxed when she reminded herself who it was holding the candle.
“Upper right arm,” he said seconds before a trail of heat hit her arm.
She exhaled as the heat subsided.
“Upper left arm,” he said, and a twin heat landed. “How does it feel?”
“Hot.”
“Too hot? Do we need to stop?”
“No, Master. It’s not near as bad as before.”
