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“We’re men of many tastes, Megan.” He lightly caressed her gorgeous tits. “How about you? What do you like?”
She shrugged. “I really don’t know. Like I said, I’m not that experienced.”
He sensed there was more to that than she was willing to say. As much as he wanted to press her to trust him, he didn’t. In the library and down in the shooting range, he and Eric had talked about being patient with her. He could hit the accelerator to the floorboard and steamroll her into surrendering all to him, but what then? She would bolt as soon as she could. She was curious but also nervous, even scared. So instead of pressing for the truth, he found her taut nipples under her blouse with his thumb and forefinger.
He pinched her fleshy tips ever so lightly, then asked, “What does this feel like?”
She tilted her head back slightly and her lips began to quiver. “Nice.”
He kept himself in check by sheer willpower. His inner caveman wanted to claim her for his own right then and there.
“Close your eyes, Megan.”
She instantly obeyed and his lust doubled and tripled. It was clear to him that Megan was curious to dip her toe into the sexual waters of BDSM but was hesitant about it. God, training and teaching her all that BDSM had to offer would be the greatest pleasure of his life. But now he could only imply what the Dom/sub relationship consisted of. Later, with Eric’s help, the lessons could go deep, really deep.
“Inside your body, what are you feeling? Tell me,” he instructed.
“Hot tingly things.” She opened her eyes and looked him square in the face, her hand skimming his cheek. “It feels wonderful, Scott. I know about how things work in your hometown, in your mansion.” She blinked and then looked down at her feet so cutely.
He continued to knead her breasts and pinch her nipples. “If you’re asking if we have shared women, the answer is ‘yes.’”
Trembling, she returned her gaze back to him. “Phoebe told me about the O’Learys, Judge Ethel and her two husbands. I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, sweetheart.” Scott wanted to fuel her curiosity but also to quell her concerns. “But I don’t want to talk about our pasts, do you? I would much rather talk about right now. You and me. Here on this plane. Together.” With the skill of a well-trained Dom, he’d already determined her bra’s clasp was in the front. Keeping his left hand on her breasts, he brushed the skin of her neck with his tongue. With his right hand, he reached under her blouse and unfastened her bra, giving his fingertips a fabric-free access to her incredible tits.
Her breathing became shallow.
“I’ve got to see your beauties, baby. Time for the big reveal.”
Her sweet, nervous laugh thrilled him. “Am I supposed to call you ‘Sir’ now?”
Fuck yeah, you should.
Her question shot straight into his cock. “I know you’ve read some about the life, but reading is different than doing. I’ve got the reins, sweetheart. We’re just having fun. This isn’t a scene or play. You haven’t been trained. You don’t know the protocols.”
She smiled. “One day I would like to ask you more about it, if you don’t mind, Scott?” Delicious-looking gooseflesh popped up on her arms, and her face and neck turned the cutest shade of red, delighting his eyes.
“It would be my pleasure.” His heart was leaping for joy. Megan was the perfect woman for him, for Eric. She was interested in the life, and that galvanized him through and through.
What more could he ask for? When her eyes had widened at the sight of the mansion’s playroom, he’d longed—but held little faith—for a day when she would consider visiting it again. Now, hope swelled in his chest, becoming something powe
rful and certain. She would not only visit the dungeon, she would enjoy it with him and Eric.
Continuing to caress her breast with his right hand, he used his left to brush her silky hair out of her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, but I sense you’re a little anxious, right?”
Chapter Eight
Megan gazed into Scott’s brown eyes. “I am a little nervous. Like I told you, I’m not very skilled in the bedroom.”
It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to tell him the truth—that she was a virgin, that the extent of her sexual exposure came from books.
Until now, on this plane with Scott, kissing had been the pinnacle of intimacy for her. She’d dreamed about this moment, the moment a man would take her virginity. But being with Scott was much more than any of those nighttime fantasies. This was tactile, intense, bright, and so very real. Scott was like the heroes of her favorite books—protective, loyal, relentless, and mouthwatering, panty-drenching sexy.
But this was wrong. He should know, shouldn’t he? It wasn’t right to keep such a thing from him. And she was married. Sure, she didn’t want to be, but legally, she still was.
She was about to open her mouth and tell him everything when he spoke. “I’ve waited long enough. I’ve got to see your tits, Megan.”
Her head reeled as Scott removed her top over her head. Her trembles intensified to major quakes. Words wouldn’t come. Not yet. She wanted to feel his fingertips on her skin, his lips on her mouth. If she told him now, would he be shocked? Would he stop? She couldn’t bear the thought. She’d never felt her body get so warm before. Moisture pooled between her legs. She would tell him the truth before they took the final plunge. He was due that from her. But for now, right or wrong, she would ride the wave of his masculinity. She wanted more, needed more, craved more.
