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Two hours ago, she’d met Ilias in the dining room for brunch. She’d worn the same sleep set as last night, and when she finished her last bite, he’d asked her if she was ready to begin. She’d asked for, and been given, time to go to the Subs’ Garden to shower and change. He told her that when she exited the Subs’ Garden, the restrictive rules were back in effect. That had made her stomach tight with need, but also left her wincing, because being naked and not allowed to speak to anyone seemed far more restrictive in the daylight.
She’d showered and coiled her towel-dry hair into a bun at the back of her head, and after moisturizing everything, she left the Subs’ Garden.
Walking naked through the club was exactly as awkward and embarrassing as she thought it would be. Though she knew it wasn’t true, she couldn’t help but feel like everyone was looking at her.
One Dom had murmured a compliment as she passed, and her cheeks had still been hot with embarrassment when she entered their playroom. Moving from the bright Southern California daylight into the twilight of the low lights in the playroom had left her temporarily blind.
When she blinked her vision back into focus, Ilias had been standing in a cone of light, a floor cushion at his feet. Without a word, he pointed at the floor.
She obediently dropped to her knees, spread her thighs, and performed the cock sucking ritual. He hadn’t spoken to her, had barely moved, except to pass her ginger lube, and to buckle cuffs around her wrists after she’d inserted the plug.
The ginger lube made her ass tingle with a faint heat that wasn’t strong enough to be called a burn. He’d fucked her mouth with long, slow strokes that made her gag and drool, and when he finally finished and pulled out, her jaw was sore and her chin and breasts were wet with spit.
Now she was staring at a full-body rubber suit, and anxiety was mingling with something that might be anger. Her overall mood was best described as “grumpy.”
“Josslyn.” His voice was cool and hard. There was no hint of the man she’d had a drink with last night in his words.
“Yes, Sir?”
“I asked you a question.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She hadn’t been paying attention, too caught up in what was happening inside her head.
There was a long pause, and then he asked, “What color are you right now?”
“Yellow,” she said without hesitation.
Another pause, and then his hand touched her lower back. “Okay, talk to me. What has you at yellow?”
“You haven’t…” She took a breath, started over. “You aren’t talking to me. I feel disconnected.”
“Disconnected how?”
“I just do. We had a nice breakfast and then come here and the first thing that happens is I suck your dick but you don’t even say anything.”
His hand slid up her back, fingers tracing the line of her spine. He gripped her neck. Hard.
“And am I not allowed to fuck your mouth?” The question was so soft. So dangerous.
“No, Sir. I mean, yes, you are, Sir.”
“Am I not allowed to give you rules to follow?”
Shit. Josslyn realized that she was standing with her feet not even shoulder-width apart, let alone so widely apart that he could grab her pussy without the sides of his hand touching her thighs.
“Yesterday you walked in here, knelt, and were ready to submit. Today, we did the same thing, but you’re not ready. Or perhaps you’re not willing?”
Shit.
“I am willing, Sir.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, Sir. I just feel grumpy.”
His fingers relaxed on her neck. “Grumpy?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I feel that way.”
