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FIFTY-FOUR
MIA
Mia waited on the couch, her breasts aching, wondering what her partner had in mind. She couldn’t believe she’d told Sev about her past—that she’d let him see the ugly truth about herself—and he still hadn’t left her.
He must really care,whispered a hopeful little voice in her head.Even after all the fucked up shit you told him, he didn’t run for the door.
But she also had no idea what he had in mind, even when he came back into the room carrying the viewer on its silver frame and set it up in front of the couch.
It was, as Mia had told him, a free-standing viewer which reminded her of an old-fashioned mirror. It was one of those tall ones—a long oval that would show you from head to foot when you stood in front of it.
Now that it was in front of Mia, she could see what a state she was in. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red from crying, and there were two huge wet spots on the front of her nightshirt, where her nipples were leaking the sticky, amber nectar.
“Sev, please—put that thing away!” she begged. “I’m a mess!”
“No, you’re fucking beautiful,” her partner growled, frowning. “Get up for a minute.”
Mia rose from the couch and watched, mystified, as he settled himself right where she had been. Then he spread his legs, making a place between them on the overstuffed cushion.
“Come sit with me,” he said, patting the space. “But first, take off your clothes.”
Mia felt a flood of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was still thinking of how she’d been forced to strip when she was younger and still so vulnerable. But on the other hand, hearing that order in Sev’s low, commanding tone—his “Dom voice” as she was beginning to think of it—made her remember their time together in the PPP Dome and the way he had touched her and made her come…
Her body ached for him—for his touch…his caress, she admitted to herself. She wanted him—no,neededhim so badly—even if she still felt she didn’t deserve him.
“Take off your clothes, baby girl,” he growled softly. “Just for me—there’s nobody else here. Take off your clothes for your Dom.”
Mia bit her lip as desire flooded through her. The effects of the Nutrient Crème in her system hadn’t faded a bit—if anything, they had grown stronger. And the memory of the way her partner had mastered and dominated her during their stay in the Dome was strong in her mind.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, finally removing the sticky nightshirt. The wet fabric stuck to her tender nipples, making her wince as it came away. She wasn’t wearing any panties so once it was off, she was completely nude.
“Good—that’s so good, Mia,” Sev murmured, patting the spot between his thighs again. “Now come here and sit with me.”
Mia did as he said, coming to sit between his legs and leaning back against his broad chest.
“I’m here,” she said, looking up at him. “Now what, Sir?”
“Now, I want you to look at yourself. Anddon’tsay you’re a mess,” Sev said sternly. “I want you to see yourself howIsee you, baby.”
He directed her to look in the mirror as he continued speaking, softly in her ear.
“Look at your beautiful breasts and your tight nipples,” he murmured. “Give me your hands, Mia.”
Mia did as he asked, though she still wasn’t sure what he was going to do. To her surprise, Sev held her hands in his own, much larger ones, and directed them to cup her breasts.
“Touch them,” he urged softly. “Touch your breasts, Mia and know how beautiful they are—this is your body, you need to reclaim it.”
Mia bit her lip, uncertain how to feel about this. On one hand, there were voices in her head telling her how dirty and ugly she was and the idea of touching herself in an intimate area feltwrong. But on the other hand, Sev was playing the part of her Master—her Dom—and he was asking her to touch her breasts and telling her how beautiful she was.
“It’s all right if you don’t want to,” he murmured in her ear. “But if you can stand it, I think—I hope—it might help. I just want you to see how gorgeous and perfect you are, baby girl.”
Mia licked her suddenly dry lips.
“I…I’ll try,” she whispered.
“Good—I’ll help you.”
Sev raised her hands to her breasts once more, urging her to cup the swollen globes. Mia did as he directed, trying to let herself believe what he told her—that she was beautiful, not ugly or wrong or sinful.
