He adjusted the shower streams and guided me over to a seat where warm water cascaded over my shoulders and back without getting in my eyes.
“When do I get to take this off, my lady?” He glanced down.
“Earn your freedom,” I purred, feeling every inch an Amazonian Queen.
He sank to his knees before me, draping my legs up and over his massive shoulders and taking the toy from my hand. I was surprised when he stroked his tongue across me, lapping hungrily despite the water that was getting in his face.
“Don’t drown,” I breathed, gasping at how good it felt. “I’m not explaining that one to the tabloids.”
“It’d be worth it,” he growled, redoubling his efforts.
This man, this magnificent man. He was my every fantasy brought to life. He was single-mindedly focused on my pleasure despite the pain he was likely having to work through to bring it about. He was enduring it for me, and goddamn did that turn me on.
I whimpered helplessly, gripping the handle on the wall and digging my heels into his back to stay balanced. My vision blackened at the edges because I forgot to breathe, caught up in the exquisite torment of the wave of pleasure that engulfed my senses.
I sat there panting, still gripping the handle, unable to form any thoughts beyondholy shit, holy fucking shit that was good.
He laughed darkly, so I must’ve said it aloud. Damn. As though his ego needed a boost.
He rocked back on his heels, standing up with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. He commanded in a strained voice, “Take it off. Now.”
I quickly unlocked the metal cage and reached forward to take him in my mouth, but he pushed me back onto the bench. He stroked himself, muscles tensing as he rapidly pumped his hand. I arched my back in offering and he made a delicious mess, marking his territory in the most fundamental way.
As though to further illustrate his claim to me, he pulled me up from the bench and wrapped his arms around me, my back pressed against his chest. He adjusted the water so it was running over both of us, then reached for soap and gently cleaned up the mess he’d made without letting me out of his embrace.
I’d been a pro domme for years, and no one had ever made me feel this worshipped, like he cherished me completely. He was going to ruin me if I wasn’t careful.
“Christ, woman…” He kissed me, sounding growly. “You have some kind of fetish for teasing me.”
I laughed. “It’s part of proving yourself worthy. I definitely get off on it. You seem tohateit, though…”
“Never stop. It’s torture, but it’s exhilarating. It makes me feel…I don’t know. Something. I don’t know how to explain it.”
I gave voice to what I thought he was trying to explain. “It’s what it feels like when your kinks align as closely as ours do. I’m an Amazon, so I want to push you and test you and tease you, ultimately having you prove yourself worthy. You’re an Alpha Dom, so you like to not only proving yourself worthy, but push me right back, challenging me to want more, expect more. You make me vulnerable, but then take care of me and make me feel protected and cared for. You want me to submit, but you don’t want it to come easily. We’re equals in and out of the bedroom, so we don’t have to hold anything back.”
He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s it exactly. I feel the most me when I’m with you.”
Well, fuck.
I couldn’t engage with that kind of raw honestly, didn’t know what to say, so I grabbed a towel and kissed him gently, fleeing the room before I said something that would change the nature of our relationship.
Once we were clean and dry, we found our way back under the covers, languid with pleasure.
“Should I tell you what the key’s really for now?” I asked.
He nodded, so I turned it over and showed him the little light and the button. “It’s got a fob built in that lets us access the various rooms and elevators of the dungeon, but more importantly, it’s our panic button. It pairs with our security system through an app. It’s got an audio connection to security. V has been toying with it recording audio or even video if something happens, but obviously that’s a client privacy concern.”
“What if you’re in bondage and can’t reach the button?” He was frowning.
“I can voice activate it.”
“What if you’re gagged?” He looked concerned now, clearly playing through the various scenarios I could end up in at work.
“Listen to you, Boy Scout, thinking of everything. I could hold it in my hand, but I wouldn’t put myself in that position with a client I didn’t completely trust.”
“I hate thinking of you having to use it.” His expression was so soft it was almost pitying and I resented that.
“You seem to have this idea in your head that I’m in more danger when I’m working, and I don’t know how to disabuse you of that notion. Things have been uncomfortable with clients a few times and scary once. I’ve lost track of the number of times inappropriate things have happened outside the dungeon, the number of times men have made me feel unsafe or violated. Do the times I’ve ended up with a guy’s dick in my mouth to just get him off because I was scared he would rape me if I didn’t count? How about the professor who stuck his hand down my pants but the university didn’t so much as give him a slap on the wrist when I reported it?” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, but didn’t interrupt me. “Those ones are obvious. What about the infinite times I’ve felt scared walking alone at night or riding on public transportation? I don’t think men can begin to understand what any given day feels like for a woman.”
