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Hannah at once averted her gaze, wishing she could disappear.
Mason settled into the tub opposite her without a trace of self-consciousness as she struggled to regain some semblance of composure. His long, muscular legs stretched out on either side of hers. His sexy arms rippled with muscle as he relaxed them along the sides of the tub.
“Tell me about that tattoo,” Hannah blurted to keep from focusing on his gorgeous naked body. “It looks like some kind of mandala wheel.”
Mason’s hand came up briefly to touch the tattoo. “That’s exactly what it is. Are you familiar with the concept of entering the mandala?”
“Vaguely,” Hannah replied, glad she’d managed to distract them both. “What does it mean, exactly?”
“Mandala is the Sanskrit word for circle. It symbolizes balance, eternity and perfection. In Hinduism and Buddhism, there’s a belief that by entering the mandala and proceeding toward its center, you’re guided through a cosmic process of transforming the universe from one of suffering into one of joy and happiness.”
“Huh,” Hannah mused thoughtfully. “Kind of like BDSM.”
Mason gifted her with a broad smile. “Exactly,” he replied enthusiastically. “That’s what attracted me to the whole mandala concept. BDSM is its own kind of mandala, on a much smaller scale, of course. For a submissive, you move through erotic suffering not only for the masochistic pleasure it affords you, but to experience the transformative process of total surrender to your Master. For a true sub, that brings a joy of its own kind.”
He looked so happy as he spoke, his tone boyishly earnest. Though she wasn’t entirely sure she shared the sentiment, she found herself smiling back at him. “That’s very poetic,” she offered.
He nodded. “And this mandala isn’t just any mandala. Did you notice what’s at its center?”
She leaned forward to get a better look. “Oh, wow,” she said, taking in the triple spiral that made up the hub of the tattoo. “That’s a BDSM triskelion, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he beamed. “Cool, right?”
“Very cool,” she agreed. His tattoos were actually growing on her. They suited him, somehow. And, if she were completely honest, they were hot—a physical manifestation of his sexy bad boy persona. She was just going to ask about some of his other tattoos, but he spoke first.
“Turn around,” he said, his eyes hooding.
“I’m sorry?” she replied, not understanding.
He drew his legs up to give her more room. “I want you to turn your body so your back is facing me.” The earnest, eager boy of a moment before was gone, the stern Master returned.
“Why—” she began, but he immediately cut her off.
“Nowhy, Hannah,” he said sternly. “You do not question your Master. You do as you’re told.”
You’re not my Master. I don’t have a Master.
The mutinous words very nearly leaped out of her mouth.
Hold on. Heisyour Master right now. All you have to do is obey.
“Yes, Sir,” she said aloud.
Scooting forward, she managed to twist herself around until she had her back to Mason. She heard him moving behind her in the water and then his strong arms were around her, pulling her toward him.
Startled, she stiffened, not sure what was happening.
“Relax,” he rumbled, his mouth close to her ear. He brought his arms around her waist as he settled her against him. “This pleases me, and therefore should please you, slave girl.”
It did feel awfully nice to be held in the arms of a big, strong, sexy man. Quieting the nervous girl fluttering in her head, she gave in to his comforting embrace. She sighed with pleasure as the deliciously hot water penetrated her muscles and soothed her aching body.
When he cupped her breasts, she drew in a sharp involuntary breath, but she didn’t pull away. She stared down at Mason’s large,capable hands, tan against her paler skin. Could he feel the pounding of her heart?
His hands shifted, his fingers finding her nipples. Grasping each between thumb and forefinger, he rolled them until she moaned. There seemed to be a direct conduit between her nipples and her clit. It felt almost as if he was stroking her there.
Then his fingers tightened on her nipples, compressing them until the pleasure turned to pain. Or no, the pleasure was still there, but the added layer of erotic pain increased the intensity of the experience tenfold.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her hands finding and gripping his hard thighs beneath the water. “It hurts,” she gasped between gritted teeth. But she made no effort to pull away.
