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Now he turned back to face her. Marcella hadn’t moved. “Thank you for volunteering, Marcella, but I can’t do that to you. I know what it means for you to ask to do this for me, and I can’t abuse your trust by allowing strangers to put their hands on you.”
She crossed to her desk and lifted a program from the small box perched on the corner. “Nowhere on here does it mention additional donors or the inclusion of anyone else in your show. I have no record of additional donations. Who are they?”
Sean shrugged. “She didn’t say.”
Marcella fought the urge to laugh. “And you didn’t ask?”
“I didn’t care about that. I cared that she went behind my back. I cared that she was trying to play power games with me. I planned to stop seeing her after this.”
His attitude exasperated Marcella. She perused the program as a way to keep him from seeing her annoyance.
A rueful laugh rumbled from his chest. “She accused me of seeing this as a business deal.”
Marcella snapped her fingers. “A business deal. That’s it. If Gretchen set this up and she’s no longer participating, then the offer is void. Changing the submissive necessarily changes the parameters of the demonstration because the limits and preferences change. Everyone will understand the altered expectations.”
They could change the progression of the rounds to better fit Marcella’s preferences and limits. However, she didn’t know how Sean would take a suggestion like that. After all, he had decided the original choreography. Part of Marcella wanted to ask if they could change the plan, but a larger part of her was afraid he would decide not to use her if she set limits that significantly altered things.
Sean watched, amused, as the wheels in Marcella’s brain powered full speed ahead. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she had an idea. She snatched up her notebook and her laptop from her desk. The fact that she kept a notebook and a computer together made him smile. Marcella always took notes on paper. Once her ideas were fully formed, she digitized them. E-mails, schedules, and appointments would pour from her fingertips and appear on his phone and calendar.
She crossed the room and set the laptop on an ottoman. After kicking off her shoes, she settled onto the sofa and folded her feet under her luscious bottom. The blue cover of the notebook disappeared as she opened to a fresh page. Her pen flew over the paper. He had no clue what she could possibly be writing, but he knew better than to interrupt.
The first time he’d set eyes on her, it had taken him almost five minutes to form a coherent thought. Over a year later, he only managed to function around her if he didn’t get too close.
She always smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. When he came really close, he sometimes caught a whiff of coconut. He wanted to bury his face in every part of her body to find out exactly where she used each scent.
He sat down on the chair across from her and raked his gaze over her body. The silk blouse she wore hugged the curves of her breasts and dipped down to show a bit of cleavage. He imagined licking her there. He would draw her shirt over her head and remove her delicate pink lacy bra. Though he hadn’t seen it, he knew it would match the exact shade of soft pink in her shirt and in her lipstick. He would tweak and suck her nipples until they pebbled and she arched beneath him. Gasps and moans would fall from her lips.
Her hair, light brown with hints of ginger, fell over her shoulders. The ends curled. It had felt silky soft when he’d used it to turn her around before. He ached to feel it sliding through his fingers, tickling down his neck and chest. Brushing his thighs as she closed those kissable lips around his cock.
“Round one should feature several toys. The vendors all promised a percentage of profits from the event in donations. I’ve already cleaned up the selection they sent over and set them out in your dungeon.” She lifted her gaze, meeting his briefly. Vendors would be on hand after the demonstration to sell sex toys and accessories to the titillated crowd. Sales of the implements he used in the scene would most likely be higher than those he bypassed. “I thought you would want to see which ones Gretchen liked best and use those. You mentioned using a heater and clamps. I think you should—”
He held up a hand to halt her flow of words. Round one would showcase his expertise with slow sexual teasing. She definitely had a way of reducing a sensual experience to items on a business agenda. “Marcella, as the submissive, you don’t get to choose the toys. You can ask. You can beg. You can’t choose or insist. That’s not negotiable with me.”
