by KB Alan
She rose, taking his elbow and urging him up as well. Then she kicked off her shoes and pulled her dress up over her head. It was interesting that she didn’t order him to undress her. Wasn’t taking her time or making a show of it. The black fabric was tossed to the side, leaving the smooth skin he’d already admired and now ached to touch. Preferably with his tongue. The small breasts that meant she didn’t need a bra practically begged for his mouth. The scrap of black satin that was her panties disappeared quickly, and then she reached for him.
There were no orders given, but he knew she wanted him to remain still. He managed it by pretending he’d ordered her to undress him. She took more care with him than she had with herself, lending authenticity to his imagination. Of course, the fact that what she was removing was a leather harness that normally adorned a sub did the opposite. Still, her hands smoothed over his chest with care as she unsnapped this and peeled away that until he stood before her completely nude.
He expected her to take a step back, observe what she’d revealed. He should have remembered that nothing this woman had done tonight had been according to his expectations. Instead, she grabbed his wrist and led him past the bed and to the bathroom.
He managed to somewhat maintain the internal fiction that he’d told her to prepare them a shower as she turned on the water and patiently tested the stream until it was the temperature she preferred. He’d only used this room a couple of times, and never actually used the shower stall. It was huge, the stone tiles a warm, welcoming color that was only enhanced by the strategically placed, securely fastened bars that could be used for holding on or for attaching cuffs and chains. There was a long bench at one end, a rain showerhead on the ceiling, five showerheads arranged on two walls and a wand with a very long hose that would allow it to reach all corners of the stall.
It fully complemented the lush bathroom that was nearly as large as the attached bedroom. The jetted tub could seat four, if those four were willing to be very close to each other. He’d used it for just that purpose with a play partner who’d wanted to experience an orgy. He looked again at the plush rug, the fluffy white towels on the heated rack, the basket of every kind of toiletry you could imagine. There was a long, wide divan that was nearly the size of some beds and a toilet that looked like it had more computer components than his laptop. The bidet options could be adapted to some interesting play, so he supposed he was glad she seemed intent on the shower at the moment. He could only push his pretend scenario so far.
His mysterious beauty seemed satisfied with the temperature at last and stepped into the shower, reaching back for his wrist to lead him in behind her. The water wasn’t quite as hot as the near boiling he usually set it to, but since the room itself was heated, he wasn’t complaining. Water spattered against her back as she brought him to the center of the stall. He was tempted to watch the drops that hit her shoulders as they glided down towards her breasts, but he watched her face instead. He had to get a handle on her. Figure out what she needed from him. She looked determined, a little bit wary, and more than a bit sad. Her breathing was even and her nipples were starting to pebble, but he couldn’t be sure if that was excitement or the environment. He suspected the latter. There was no telltale glint of moisture between her thighs. Was it time for him to take control? Lead her to pleasure? He’d been in scenes that were more about emotion than sex, understood sometimes that was what the sub, or even the Dom, needed. But even in those scenes, sex and pleasure, or sometimes pain, had been the path to emotional release.
Of course, in every one of those instances he’d known his sub, understood what it was that she needed and had a plan for how to satisfy her. To say he was flying blind right now was a massive understatement. As a Dom without a sub, he’d expected to be bid on by those who were too shy to approach him otherwise, or someone he’d played with in the past who wanted an encore. It hadn’t occurred to him that someone would expect him to play the sub, nor had he imagined he’d be in any kind of emotional situation with the potential for serious consequences if he fucked things up.
Then again, maybe he was overthinking things. Assigning this neediness to her so that he could feel like he was playing the hero. He managed, just barely, to keep from rolling his eyes. Now she had him second guessing himself.
Dana took a deep breath and dropped his wrist. She examined the various shower heads and flipped switches until only one of the three behind her and both of those next to him were shooting water. One was above his head and she angled him until its stream hit his neck and shoulders with a pleasant massage. The other was lower, hitting his ribs, and he began to think of ways he’d like to direct all the streams on her.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice soft enough that he had to lean forward slightly to hear her over the water.
“Yes. Are you?”
Her lashes flew up as she met his gaze, and she blushed. Her swallow was almost audible, but she didn’t answer him otherwise. He didn’t really need her to. She wasn’t all right, she was clearly going through something, and he was clueless as to how to help her.
Turning her back to him, she studied the bottles on a shelf in the wall before selecting one and pouring a large amount into her palm. She turned around and immediately placed her palms on his chest, the slightly cool gel warming quickly as she moved her hands over his flesh. Tentative at first, her touch firmed up quickly, intermingled with pauses while she squeezed his muscles in what he could only interpret as delight. Amused, he resisted the urge to flex.
Circling him, she washed his chest, back and arms before returning to his chest. When she darted a quick glance at his face and licked her lips, he mentally braced himself. Sure enough, her fingers lingered on the nipples she’d washed with a cursory once over. She flicked, then squeezed, though not hard enough to cause him any real discomfort. Laying her hands flat on his chest, she brushed her thumbs back and forth across his nipples. He wasn’t particularly sensitive there, but he took pleasure in feeling her hands rest against him and in watching the delight dance across her face. He wanted very badly to thread his fingers through her wet hair and pull her mouth to his chest, then order her to finish cleaning him with her tongue.
He tensed with the effort and her hands tightened their grip against his slick skin. Too soon she leaned back, flicked her gaze to his face, then dropped her hands. She turned away to get more shower gel and he watched her pert ass while he fought for control. The view was counterproductive to his goal, but he was powerless to resist. She probably thought her butt was too big, but he had an urgent desire to fill his hands with the globes. She turned back to face him and he decided her breasts were an excellent alternative. Then she dropped to her knees and his mind went in a different direction entirely.
His partially erect cock hardened, though her hands had only gone to one ankle. She took her time working the soap up his leg, all the way to the crease of his thigh. His legs were spread wide enough that she was able to slide her hands the full length without brushing his balls. Damn it. She did the other leg then looked up at him as she put her palms on his ass. He almost laughed. He didn’t manage to stay still. Her mouth was inches from his cock, her hands tight on his ass, one finger sliding between his crack for a thorough cleaning, and he broke. He gently cupped her head with one hand, the other going to her chin to pull her gaze up to his.
Her shoulders sagged a bit as she let his hand take her weight, turning her face just enough for him to feel relief that she was accepting his touch for the domination it was. But she closed her eyes. He brushed his thumb over her lips and watched her throat work around a hard swallow. Then she pulled in a deep breath and he knew she wasn’t ready. Before she had to say anything, before she even opened her eyes, he dropped his hands back to his sides. He wouldn’t make her give him unnecessary orders.
She blinked her eyes open and the gratitude and determination in them told him that at least he was now reading her correctly. She rose, her movements sure and
practiced.
Lifting a hand to the back of his head, she gave the barest of tugs. “Tilt your head under the water.” She ran her fingers through his hair. When she deemed it wet enough, she gently pushed him forward again. Moving to the bottles again, she made another selection.
“You can hold this handle if you need to,” she said, gesturing to a bar on the wall next to her. “Close your eyes and bend over.”
He did as she ordered, but placed his hands against the wall behind her instead of using the support bar she’d offered. She hesitated, and he knew he was pushing things by caging her between his arms, but he wouldn’t hold the handle, and he sure as hell wouldn’t clasp his hands behind his back, as he would expect his sub to. Not unless she specified. After a moment, she moved her hands to his head and he breathed a discreet sigh of relief. With his eyes closed and her fingers massaging shampoo through his hair, it took him a minute to realize that the tantalizing heat just in front of his mouth and nose was her breasts.
Defying her order, he opened his eyes. Probably a mistake, as his mouth began watering. A dozen options swam through his head before he made a decision on his next move.
“May I pleasure your breasts while you work?”
Her hands stilled on his head. If he wasn’t concentrating so hard, he might have missed her whispered “you may”. But he was concentrating, and he didn’t hesitate. With slow, careful movements, he nudged his nose into the valley of her breasts. When he gave her a chaste kiss, her fingers began moving through his hair again. He turned to the side enough to explore the shape of one breast with his tongue. He wondered if she was aware that though her hands didn’t try to direct his actions by moving his head, her body twisted slightly, giving him access to her nipple.
Taking the offering, he pulled the bud between his lips, giving gentle pulses in time with the fingers washing his hair. When she seemed to have moved the suds to her satisfaction and was about to pull free, he bit down gently. Her whole body shivered and her hands fell to her sides. His instincts fought between pushing her to take what he wanted to give, and letting her play out the she scenario she needed to explore. It wasn’t just his ego that led him to believe he could take over the situation, it was the way her breath stuttered, her body leaned into his touch and her toes curled. With some regret, he decided he needed more information to best serve her as a Dom. He let her nipple pull free with a gentle plop, then brushed a kiss across her breast before closing his eyes and resuming his position.
* * *
Dana’s brain took a minute to re-engage. The man in front of her had gone still after launching a burst of tingles through her body. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, careful not to push her breasts into his face. His name was Eric, she reminded herself. She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her. He had nothing to do with the scene she was playing out, not really, but it was her responsibility to make sure she didn’t harm him. It hadn’t really seemed like an issue, since she wasn’t going to be doing any play that could possibly seem boundary pushing, but she knew that any scene could be full of emotional landmines. Ones that could be triggered without the other party having the slightest awareness.
She wasn’t really surprised he’d made a move. He was a Dom, after all, used to topping. The fact that she’d allowed it, hadn’t even protested, and that he was the one who’d stopped it, showed her that though she was determined to play the scene out her way, she was still a sub more used to following orders than issuing them. Not that she’d had a doubt on that score. It wasn’t like she was thinking of switching sides or anything. She just…needed to do this one thing. Needed him to let her do this one thing. After that, she figured she’d fly solo for a while.
“Stand up, tilt your head back.” She didn’t exactly sound commanding, but at least her voice didn’t waver. She relaxed a little bit when she saw that his eyes were closed, as ordered. Resting one hand on his chest so he was grounded, she stepped to his side and reached up to help the water clear out the suds. It was better than staring at his face. Though not much. The feel of his warm skin and hard muscles beneath her hand and the silky strands of his short, almost black hair sliding through her fingers was a temptation nearly as strong as the smooth lips, strong jaw and piercing eyes. Of course, none of that compared to his strong presence, the one that had captivated her from the stage and nearly been her undoing on entering the room.
It had taken a numb determination to disregard all the doubts that began to clamber through her the minute the auctioneer declared her the winner, and make her way to the man waiting for her. She’d managed to grab the leash by doing her best to not look directly at him. The offer of available rooms had nearly overwhelmed her, but she’d seen the description of decadent full-service bathroom and taken it. Still, walking into the room with a giant bed had freaked her out. Her body started making assumptions about what she was there to do which were in complete contradiction with her intentions.
Her intentions. It wasn’t like she’d had a real clear idea of what she wanted to do when she’d started bidding. Or when she’d raised the bid, again and again. Or when she’d taken possession of her winnings and selected the room. Wasting some of her precious time, she’d centered herself. Decided what she needed to do. Which she needed to get back to now before she ran out of time, or her Dom ran out of patience. Her heart stuttered a bit on thinking her Dom, but she pushed the thought back out and refocused her attentions.
“Okay,” she murmured, her hand guiding his head back to upright. She regretted her completely unspecific order when he not only straightened his neck but opened his eyes. His calm, relaxed body and actions had led her to believe he was in a passive state. His intense, searching gaze proved her very wrong. If she’d had any doubts about his submission, they were quickly dashed away. Sure, he was doing everything she told him to do, but not for anything close to resembling the reasons she herself submitted. Since his submission hadn’t been her goal or even her desire, it shouldn’t scare her. As long as he continued to keep his toppy self in check, they would get through this just fine. And hopefully she’d find a bit of the peace that she was searching for.
Turning her back, she reached for the conditioner, letting her body’s movement mask the deep breath she needed in order to continue. She kept her eyes level with his collarbone when she turned back. “Close your eyes, bend over,” she repeated. He watched her for only a second before complying. This time, instead of holding the handle she’d suggested, or bracing himself against the wall behind her as he had before, he rested his hands on her hips. Her pussy gave a completely involuntary clench. It should have pleased her, to know that she could still be aroused. Instead, it made her feel traitorous. Her lover was recently dead and her body was ready to move on to the next commanding presence she found herself in? Closing her eyes, she brought Harrison’s face to her mind. Let herself sink into the memories of the happy times, the love that she’d had for her Dom, the need that she’d come here to fulfill. One that had nothing to do with sex.
As she moved the cream through Eric’s hair, she pictured Harrison in the hospital bed during that last week. His hair lank and dry, his skin thin and brittle. She moved her fingers through healthy hair and imagined a sick bed. Barely felt the tear slide down her cheek. It didn’t matter though. She was finally getting to do what she’d needed to do. Serving her Master as she hadn’t been able to do when it had mattered most.
Instead of speaking this time, she gave a gentle tug on hair that was dark instead of strawberry blond, guided him back into the stream until the water ran clean. The man in front of her wasn’t bothering to hide the concern on his face, but that was okay. He wasn’t stopping her, wasn’t denying her what she needed.
Leaving him with the spray hitting his shoulders, she turned and made quick work of washing herself and her hair. She turned the water off and stepped out to grab a warm towel from the rack. Again, she started with his feet, taking gentle care with his sex but not lingering. H
er mind tried to get distracted with his beauty, but she shoved it aside. He needed her to take care of him, and that was what she would do. The flesh she was drying was taut, not slack with sickness, but she took as much care with him as she would have her lover. If he had let her. She’d seen Harrison dry himself with a vigorous rub many times, and imagined this man did the same, but she patted him gently, blotting the moisture rather than abrading his skin, even though the towel was as soft as any she’d ever felt.
Moving behind him, she stood on the bench so that she could reach his hair without requiring him to bend over. She took her time, gently fisting the strands with the towel until there were no loose drops left to fall. A nudge on his shoulder had him turning towards her. With exquisite care, she used two fingers in the towel to pat his face dry, the concerned, healthy face flashing back and forth in her mind’s eye with that of her dying Master, barely conscious most of the time, but still too commanding for her to defy by giving him the care she so desperately needed to when he’d forbidden it.
She dried Eric’s ears, then behind them, noting the lack of any holes in either lobe. Wiped the towel across his eyebrows. Gently patted his lids and lashes dry when he lowered them closed. Finally she was done. She was careful to use one of the handles to ease her way off the bench rather than brace her hand on his firm shoulder, as she wanted to do. Not daring a look at his face, she took his wrist and led him out of the stall.
The bathroom was big enough that it was comfortably warm and not too humid from the shower. She knelt at his feet again and tapped one until he lifted it so that she could dry the bottoms as thoroughly as the rest of him. When she was done, she rose and stepped back, looked him over to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.
