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After telling her to kneel, Daniel hadn’t said anything else, instead using all non-verbal commands. When she’d twisted to look at the stage, he’d grasped her chin, turned her to face him, then put a hand on her head and forced it down. When she dug her nails into her thighs, restless and seeking stimulation, he’d reached down and grabbed her wrists, forcing her to flip her hands so they were palm up.
And finally, he’d started nudging her knee apart with the toe of his shoe.
Behind her, a woman moaned, “No. It hurts. Please… Harder.”
Autumn bit the side of her tongue, imagining what was happening to the woman. Maybe a thick plug was being forced into her ass. Or clamps placed on her nipples and slowly tightened.
She wanted that pain. Wanted him to start with her. To touch her and hurt her and help her find the sweet release she needed.
If someone was getting nipple weights or clamps it should be her, damn it.
And yet…being forced to wait didn’t dampen her arousal. Forced to kneel with nothing to look at but his feet and her own spread legs was exactly the kind of frustration she enjoyed.
This slow, silent, but powerful start to their scene meant that when he reached down and placed a single finger under her chin, tilting her face up, she was soft and willing, letting him raise her face while she kept her eyes submissively lowered.
She sensed his focus and attention as he inspected her face, her body.
“Gorgeous.” His finger slid down the line of her throat, and then kept going.
She caught her breath as he traced the plump mounds of her breasts where they were exposed above the top of her corset.
“Kneel up.”
She raised her butt off her heels, her feet a little tingly because she’d partially lost feeling in them thanks to how she’d been sitting. When she swayed, his hands came out to cup her ribs, offering her an anchor point.
It was done without comment, and showed that he was paying very close attention to her, even if he was, ostensibly, focused on watching the scene behind her. She leaned into his hands for a moment, sighing in pleasure.
His thumbs swept across the front of the corset, and she hated that she couldn’t feel that touch as anything more than a little pressure.
“I’ve allowed you to keep your breasts hidden from me for too long,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“What are you sorry for? I want to hear it.”
“I’m sorry that my breasts are hidden from you.”
“Stand up and take off the corset.”
He kept one hand on her, but offered her the other, palm up, to brace herself on as she stood. She’d kicked off her shoes when she first knelt. The material of his suit jacket was warm and soft under her feet as she found her balance, regretting that his hand dropped away from her as soon as she did.
When she took a breath she smelled the very faint scent of roses, a more wild, green scent than came from hothouse cultivated roses. She also smelled leather conditioner, and the faint trace of a feminine perfume.
“Strip,” Daniel commanded, his voice now hard.
Autumn softened at the command in his words, then reached for the bottom of her corset. Re-lacing a corset every time it had to be put on was madness, so this one, like most corsets, had hidden hook and eye closures running down the front. Getting dressed at the club involved loosening the corset lacings, wrapping it around herself and fastening the front closures, then having another sub tighten it at the back.
Pinching the bottom edges, she squeezed them towards each other and undid the first few hook and eye closures. She planned to work from the bottom up, but Daniel stopped her.
“No. Start at the top. I want to see your breasts trying to escape the corset.”
Autumn glanced at him from under her lashes, and slid her hands up her torso. She cupped her breasts, fingertips digging into the exposed and plumped mounds above the top edge of her corset.
Daniel’s lips twitched into a smile, but he shook his head in a wordless rebuke.
She shifted her weight, her damp labia sliding against one another. Shoving her thumbs down under the top edge of her corset, she pinched the fabric and squeezed the panels together, momentarily compressing her breasts even more. For one delicious second she could barely breathe it was so tight, and rather than frightening, she found that moment exhilarating.
Then the first few hooks were open, and when she inhaled, her breasts forced the top edges of the corset apart, exposing the inner curve of her pressed-together breasts.
