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Hopping from the bed, I sprinted into the dressing room. I’d left the toy cabinet unlocked when I’d retrieved the camera. My laziness assisted me in springing the surprise.
When I came back to the bed, I was wearing my collar and nothing else. I dropped an armload of toys on the end of the bed.
He pushed himself up to sit and ran a self-conscious hand over his head. “I’m not sure—”
“You might not be up to it, physically, but you can still fuck me.” I plucked a bottle of lube from the pile of silicone and plastic on the bed. “For you.”
Catching it out of the air, he laughed. “All right. What’s the game?”
“Fuck me. I’ll do all the work, you just tell me what to do.” I looked over to the delicate, powder-blue and dark wood chair in front of the fireplace. I pulled it to face the end of the bed, far enough back that Neil’s view wouldn’t be blocked, and sat myself down. I slid my hands down my thighs and slowly eased them apart.
Neil’s breath audibly left him.
I dipped my head and caught the nail of my index finger between my teeth. “So... are you in?”
“Go downstairs and get the video camera.” I heard my Sir’s voice in the command, and my body throbbed.
I grabbed my robe off the back of the door and hurried downstairs, through the dark center stairwell to the second floor. I was back in a flash. My heart pounded, and not just from running through a dark, slightly creepy house. If Neil recorded me, there would be evidence of my total surrender to him. I wasn’t ashamed of myself for anything I did with him, but it was so intimate.
I knew he wouldn’t ever let such a video fall into the wrong hands. And the thought of what he would do with it...
I wanted to be the last damn woman on that video camera.
“Here.” I passed it to him and went back to the chair, toying with my collar. “Tell me what to do, Sir.”
The little light on the front of the camera came on, and I took a breath, paralyzed, aware that I was staring right into it.
Neil settled back on pillows he’d arranged in my absence, and moved one to support his arm as he held the camera. “Sit down.”
I did as he told me, sitting primly on the edge of the chair, my hands in my lap, palms up.
“Sit back, and spread your legs.”
The low, carved arms prevented me from parting my legs too far.
“If you put your feet over the sides, can you touch the floor?”
I raised one leg slowly, deliberately flashing a perfect view of my cunt. I took my time getting myself positioned just right. Not even my big toes brushed the carpet. “No, Sir. I can’t touch the floor.”
“Very good.”
Neil’s gaze scorched every anticipatory center of my brain as it traveled a slow path from my spread pussy, up to my breasts, to where I stroked a fingertip along the bottom edge of my collar.
He was back. Dominant Neil wasn’t gone, just hidden beneath layers of sickness and fatigue and body image issues. The fact that he could be pushed aside by such seemingly trivial matters was alarming proof that below his controlled, calm exterior, Neil Elwood was just a human being like the rest of us.
But not when we were together like this. When I was under his command, he was anything but ordinary.
“You’re already wet,” he observed casually. “I can see it.”
I took a shaky breath. He hadn’t given me a command yet. I sat before him, completely exposed, the video camera dispassionately documenting every long second while I waited, my arousal growing with every heartbeat.
“Take the fingertips of your right hand. Starting at the wrist of your left hand, draw them up, slowly, until you reach your shoulder.”
My fingers trembled as I dragged them up my arm with a feather-light touch. When they skated up over the curve of my shoulder, he said, “Now follow the line of your collar across your neck. At the bottom, please.”
My chest flushed. When my fingertips reached the hollow of my throat, he stopped me. “Do the same, with your left hand, to your right.”
It was slow, excruciatingly slow. It was the best kind of torture.
“What are you thinking of, Sophie?”
“I’m thinking of that time we had Skype sex,” I said with a little giggle. “I’m thinking of watching you come all over your stomach while you watched me.”
“You may stroke the outside curves of your breasts with the backs of your fingers. Don’t touch your nipples.” A faint smile softened his stern mouth. “Did you like being on display for me?”
“Yes, Sir.” My throat was suddenly parched, probably because all the moisture in my body was between my legs.
