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He allowed a bit of steel to return to his tone. “But if this is going to work, Lia, I need your full cooperation. I’m going to require a lot more than just kissing my shoe. I have no intention of dragging you kicking and screaming into anything and fighting you at every turn. Either you’re all in, or you’re not. If you stay, you find a way to stop controlling every interaction.”
On an impulse, he reached for her cheek, cradling it gently in his hand. But not before he saw the involuntary flinch. She’d been expecting a slap.
“I’m asking you to trust me, Lia. That’s a big ask, especially given that we’ve only just met. I get that. But I think you’ve been in the scene long enough to know that BDSM connections happen a lot more quickly than vanilla ones, by the very nature of the intense interaction. I wouldn’t have volunteered for this if I didn’t have faith in you. So, I’m also asking you to trust yourself. Do you think you can do that?”
“I’ll try, Sir.”
He nodded, accepting that for now. Some of the tension had eased from her body and her smile was less tentative. She nudged gently with her cheek against his hand, reminding Beau of a cat eager to be petted.
He would need to be careful. They were to be trainer and trainee. Nothing more.
Dropping his hand, he took a step back.
≈
Lia nearly leaned forward, wanting his touch again.
Cut it out, she ordered herself.He signed up to be your trainer, not your boyfriend.
Thank goodness he was patient. She’d very nearly ruined everything right out of the gate with her stupid inability to control her reactions. Silently, she promised herself to do better.
“Let’s go see what’s for sale out there,” Beau said, turning toward the door. “You’re going to help me choose a whip especially for you.”
“Oh, yes,Sir,” Lia replied eagerly. As they left the room, she turned off the lights and wall fountain, closing the door behind her.
The huge living room was crowded with outside guests moving from table to table. Mistress Marjorie and Katie stood behind the table displaying Master Brandon’s beautiful selection of handcrafted collars. Several people were examining the collars, a few trying them on in front of the makeup mirrors set there for the purpose.
Lia’s hand went to the soft rope around her own neck. She fingered the knot at her throat. She had several collars of her own back at her place, all of them she’d purchased herself. She liked to wear them as part of her outfit when she went to BDSM clubs. She had always considered them more of an accessory than anything else, until she’d come to The Enclave.
Though she still wasn’t ready to be anyone’s slave, she secretly coveted the lovely, unique collars each of the resident slaves wore. She had even fantasized, in a vague sort of way, about what it would be like to be collared by a dominant lover. She supposed it made sense for Beau, aKinbakuMaster, to give her a rope trainee collar.
They moved slowly past various tables of BDSM paraphernalia and whip displays. Lia felt the pleasant thrum of arousal she always experienced when looking at impact toys and gear.
They eventually stopped in front of Jeremy Blake’s table. As the night before, he was dressed head to toe in black leather. Juliette, one of the trainees, stood beside him, wrapping some purchases in tissue paper. The large man smiled broadly when he saw Lia. While she hadn’t been in the slightest bit attracted to the guy, he had been quite skilled with his impact toys. Her skin tingled pleasantly at the memory of the excellent session the night before.
“There she is,” he said enthusiastically. “Come back for some more, have you?” His eyes flickered from her to Beau. “Ah, the aftercare volunteer. Are the pair of you a package deal, then?” He looked almost comically disappointed.
“For the time being,” Beau replied smoothly. He picked up one of the heavy floggers. “This is a beauty.”
Jeremy’s face lit up once more. He began to describe every aspect of the flogger in laborious detail. Beau listened, asking a polite question here and there. “Thanks,” he eventually said when he could get in a word edgewise. “We’re going to wander a little more.”
They stopped in front of another vendor. A beautiful sign made from hand-tooled leather hung in front of the table, the wordsLeather Masterartfully stenciled on it. The man behind this table was Taggert Fitzgerald, whom she’d briefly met the evening before at dinner.
Like Jeremy, Taggert was a big man, but instead of tending toward fat, he appeared to be all muscle. He wore a red flannel top over a black T-shirt tucked into faded jeans. He had rugged features and deep-set, kind eyes. Madison, who had been Taggert’s subject during the demos the night before, stood beside him. She was making change for a woman holding her recent purchase.
“Leather Master,” Beau said, admiration in his voice. “I thought I recognized the name Taggert Fitzgerald from somewhere. I actually own a flogger I bought from your website about a year ago. It’s one of my favorite pieces.”
“That’s good to hear,” Taggert said with a smile. “It took me a while but I’m finally online, thanks to my wife, Rylee.”
“I’m sorry I missed your bullwhip demonstration last night,” Beau said. “I wish I could have been everywhere at once.”
Taggert smiled back. “I know the feeling. This place is beyond awesome.”
As another potential customer drew Taggert’s attention away, Beau stroked the long handle of one of several bullwhips coiled neatly on display. The throw was plaited with alternating strands of red and black leather that tapered to a thin tail.
“What do you think, Lia? Can you handle a bullwhip?”
Lia swallowed, feeling the knot of her rope collar as she did so. “Uh,” she hedged. “Maybe something not quite so imposing?” The throw on that thing was longer than she was, or so it seemed to her.
