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It wasn’t about him hearing it, or her being able to cry out. But without the ability to hear that sweet gasping, thatbreathlessness, he wanted to use his sight to experience her climax. He’d like to earn her trust so she wouldn’t worry that it made a difference to him, her way versus a woman who could cry out her pleasure.
Not today, though. His gaze remained lowered as her fingers dug in and her body stiffened. The climax surged forth and took over. It brought her body up further, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. Her inner muscles contracted on his hand, her ass rubbing against his cock. She turned her head to his shoulder and bit.
He kept his fingers moving inside her, his mouth on her nipples and breasts, until her body started to come down, until the ripples in her cunt eased. He enjoyed her little jerks as he teased and nuzzled. When the aftershocks ebbed away, he knew he needed to relax his grip, but she was clinging to him too, so it gave him a few extra moments to recall they weren’t permanently fused to one another. Slowly, he eased his fingers from her, caressing her, giving the crotch of the soaked panties another lingering touch so he could have the memory in his head going forward, what he’d done for her.
The difference between Dommes and subs boiled down toToandFor. A sub did thingsforhis Mistress. A Mistress did thingstoher sub. Took him deeper places in his head, ordered him into service. While he gave her what that service demanded. Didforher. Those two words covered it all, why it worked for both of them.
Tiger smoothed the panties in place. Skye had recovered enough to bring the catch of the bra back together. He held her, enjoying the view as she adjusted her beautiful breasts. She gave him a half smile and didn’t tell him he had to look away. She was feeling benevolent, then. Maybe because of the memorial and her perception of his more fragile emotional state.
Normally he’d act to correct that, keep his manliness intact, but today he’d let it go. At least for a moment or two. He appreciated she left one extra button open on the blouse so he got a nice eyeful of the cleavage her bra enhanced. With a wink, he shifted her to a more secure position on his lap and curled his hands around the swing chains.
“Hold onto me,” he said. “I’ll take you flying.”
A feline smile suggested she thought he had, but she slid her other arm around his waist, and put her head on his shoulder, her breath on his neck. He pressed his head to hers, just a second.
“Thanks for today.”
Before she felt the need to reply, he pushed off and started them swinging. She was comfortable in the cradle of his legs, sure in her hold on him, as they swung up toward the sky. When he felt a warning hint of dizziness on the downward track, he kept his eyes on the sky, his thoughts on her. And then he felt only the right kind of dizzy.
When a trio of Canadian geese landed on the pond, he brought the swing to a gradual stop so they could watch the birds. He couldn’t hear them, but it made him smile, watching their beaks move and knowing they were announcing their arrival in the trumpeting way they did.
"It's like watching a silent movie, knowing what sounds need to be dubbed in,” he said.
Her hand slipped into his, and he looked down, tightened his fingers over hers. "And things like that, help. When I worry no one can hear my voice because I can't hear it. You show me you hear me, even when I say nothing." He took a breath, smiled at her.
Skye bent her head to her phone.Tap, tap, tap.
He was content to wait her out, rocking back and forth in the swing, his thighs shifting under her buttocks. She lifted the screen.
“Take me home. And stay with me tonight.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tiger knew Ros and Abby owned their own homes in the coveted Garden District. TRA was a damn successful business. Skye was top management, and likely could have afforded something in the same location. But she’d gone a different way. The address she gave him took him to New Orleans’ warehouse district.
Many of the old buildings that had been factories in the early 19thcentury were modernized inside and populated by galleries, dance studios and trendy restaurants. Residences were often located on the floors above those businesses.
She directed him to one of those, a four-story, red-bricked edifice that took up a good portion of a whole block. As they approached, she activated a garage door that revealed her Mustang, with a guest spot next to it. As he parked his truck there, she closed the door, the engine rumbling in the small space before he switched it off.
As he circled around to open her door, he noted vintage metal signs mounted on the garage wall, which had been painted dove feather gray. The metal sign in front of her Mustang, placed there like an assigned parking space marker, showed a family ina blue Mustang, happily headed down Route 66, rolling hills and a sunny day ahead of them.
A side door with another key panel led them up three sets of wooden stairs. She went first, the narrow space keeping him from being caught in his thorough perusal of the pendulum movement of her ass. Unless she could crane her neck around like an owl.
When she reached the door at the top and turned, he was contemplating the railing that kept them from plummeting into the eye of those multiple levels of steps. Her faint amusement and narrowed eyes told him he wasn’t getting anything past her, but she’d probably let him keep riding the “rough day” pass.
In theory. In his experience, Dommes liked holding punishments in reserve, for the optimal moment to inflict them. And in some cases, to build the sub’s anticipation or dread for them.
As he followed her through the door to her place, it looked like she had this entire floor of the building. On the opposite end was the grated gate to a lift, which he expected she used when she had parcels to bring up or was going out on foot.
Pillars mortared with that old red brick braced the high ceiling, crisscrossed with metal beams. A wall of windows looked out over the street and nearby buildings. It was becoming a nighttime view, populated by the lights and skyline of the nearby business district.
Standing screens had been used to create spaces, minimizing the factory floor feeling of such a big area. The back left corner was cordoned off by a curtain of overlapping thick clear strips, like those used on a construction site to contain a work area. They were hung from the rafters, but as they descended toward the floor, the bulk of the strips were hidden by the placement of more mesh screens.
He saw a black marble bar and a good-sized flat screen, plus a kitchen with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances. Her king-sized bed was on a raised platform, not far from the construction-looking area. A living space closer to where they stood had a cushioned sectional and bunches of pillows, the furniture angled toward the flat screen.
The only walled-off spaces were a couple of spacious bathrooms and closets. Through the open door of the bathroom closer to the king-sized bed, he could see it was big enough to include a Jacuzzi tub.
The bar and big flat screen didn’t fit what he knew of her. This place seemed a blend of her tastes and far more masculine ones.
