“You don’t know what the sight of you kneeling does to me.” He let out his breath and then took air swiftly back in again.
She glanced down where his pants bulged. Now that’s what I call a package. “I have an idea, Master.”
He leaned over her. “So you have fantasies about wearing something daring?” His hand was soft on the side of her cheek.
There was a downside to letting him into my mind. Trust him to latch onto that. “Not since then.”
“But before?”
“Yes.”
“I think it’s time for a healing session.”
What does he mean? “Master?”
“We’re going to go clothes shopping.”
She blinked. “What am I going to wear?”
“For now, that shirt. It’s plenty long enough on you, as long as you don’t bend over too far. Once you find something you like—something we both like—then you can wear that instead. It will be my treat.”
She looked down. The shirt was long enough, barely. She also felt like the whole world would know she wasn’t wearing anything else beneath it. Especially with her nipples feeling like two little rocks making sharp points in the fabric.
Her apprehension must have been evident on her face, because he told her, “I’ll let you wear my leather jacket.”
Well, wearing the jacket wouldn’t change the fact that she was wearing an oversized T-shirt as a dress, but at least it solved the nipple problem. She realized he was waiting for a response. “Yes, Master.”
If nothing else, it gave her an incentive to find some clothes she liked, so she could change as soon as possible.
* * * * *
An hour later, she was still wearing the T-shirt and jacket. They had stopped by a shoe store, where Charles had bought her a pair of very high heeled black sandals. Now they were in a small boutique called the Pleasure Palace, and she was beginning to seriously doubt she was going to find anything decent enough to wear. There was plenty of lingerie—in lace, latex, and leather—but the other clothes had something missing. Like a back, in the case of one skirt. She had picked up a latex top off a rack that might otherwise be about as conservative as latex clothing could be, if it weren’t for two holes cut out where her breasts would go.
“Lovely,” said Charles. “But not quite your style.”
“I’m glad we agree.”
“The area back in the corner has more discreet clothes.”
She followed him back. She was grateful to be out of sight of the butch cashier; it had felt like the woman was watching her every move. She didn’t mind being ogled by a woman, but she was afraid the woman was eyeing her as a potential shoplifter.
Charles was right; in the corner were leather dresses, skirts, and tops one wouldn’t get arrested for wearing. She pulled out a plain black leather skirt that would reach nearly to her knees.
“You could get in a mall,” Charles observed. “But if it’s what you want, I’ll get it for you. You’ll look lovely in it.”
She searched his face for a hint of disapproval, but there wasn’t any. At the same time, he was right. She probably could find something like that in a mall. As she handed him the hangar the skirt was on, she resolved to find a sexier top.
But when she turned back, she wondered how many women he’d bought clothes for. “You seem to know this store pretty well,” she said.
“I’ve been here a few times,” he admitted.
“Nothing girls love better than shopping.” She couldn’t quite keep the cattiness out of her voice, as she thumbed vacantly through various leather bras, corsets, and bizarrely fashioned clothes she didn’t know what to call.
“Oh!” He chuckled.
“Hmm? What’s so funny?”
“You think I’ve brought women here before?”
“Well, I don’t see any men’s clothing.”
“There is a little. But the gay leather shop down the street has better leather jeans.”
The thought of him with another guy flashed through her mind and sent little ripples down to her core. But no, he’d shown no interest in guys and lots in her. Maybe he had the confidence to be the one straight guy in a gay crowd. That kind of confidence was at least as sexy as any man-on-man fantasies she might have.
He pointed across the store. “It so happens this place has a nice little toy section, with quality equipment, most of it made by local crafters. It’s hard to find in amongst the novelties they carry for the walk-in traffic, but there are lovely floggers I could make dance across your skin and bring every nerve to life.”
Oh my. “I’m not alive. Undead, remember. One of the damned?”
“That T-shirt was not the best symbolism in the world, I’ll admit, but I didn’t figure switching it on you would make you feel better. And I disagree.” He punctuated his words with kisses on her neck, and his voice dropped. She could hear the breath from it on her ear, and it gave her a taste of what he might mean by nerves coming alive. “You may not be breathing, but you are most definitely alive. Otherwise, I’d be a necrophiliac, and I object to being called a necrophiliac. Pervert, yes, but I have my limits.”
“It’s none of my business if you have taken women here before, anyway.”
“I haven’t. By the way, if you ever want a corset, the best ones are custom fitted. I know someone in Philadelphia who does excellent work.”
“I guess I could take a pretty tight corset, hmm?”
Charles laughed. “Better not to make people fear for your health, dear, by taking advantage of the fact you don’t have to breathe.”
“I suppose.” The choices seemed overwhelming. She grabbed something that laced up in the front and back, which she thought would cover at least half of her breasts. “How about—“ and then she broke off, seeing the price tag. All that for two skimpy bits of black and red leather? She turned back to put it back, hastily, only to find him taking it from her.
“Lovely choices. We’ll have to see if they fit.”
That would mean facing the woman at the counter again, she supposed, because she didn’t see anyone else in the store. But he was taking charge and all she had to do was follow as if pulled along by an invisible leash.
She was distracted by a display of collars to her right. They came in all sorts of colors—white, black, burgundy, even orange. Most were made of leather, although the orange and one black studded one looked like they were made of vinyl, and a couple were made of inflexible shining steel. Some were thin, and some so thick she thought they’d force her chin up—maybe that was the point. One, of inch-wide leather that buckled closed and had three little D-rings dangling from it, caught her eye.
The thought of the invisible leash she had been imagining having a place at her throat to attach to made her tingle in all the right places. “Maybe one of those?” she asked, pointing. She didn’t want to be too free with his money, but the collars were inexpensive compared to the clothing Charles already had in his hand.
A smile appeared on Charles’ face and vanished as quickly. “I don’t collar women.” His voice was brusque, and he turned from her to face the woman at the counter. “She’d like to try these on, Anna.”
“Sure thing.” Anna came out from behind her counter and hooked Doreen’s elbow. “Right this way.”
Anna led her to a short hallway in the back, with a single dressing room on one side, a unisex bathroom on the other, and a door marked “office” in front. She opened the door for Doreen and waved her in.
As Doreen passed her, Anna murmured. “You’ve got yourself one of the best Doms in the area. Make it last, but be aware, no girl ever keeps his interest for long.”
Doreen looked for the hint of a smirk, but there wasn’t any. I could hold his interest. But I’m not going to use vampire tricks on him. Still, if and when he dumped her, would she really have the self-control to let him go on with his life? She thought so. She hoped so. But to let him slip away…
Now, that’s not very submissive of me, is it? And what did h
e mean by the comment “I don’t collar women”? She’d been thinking of the collar as a hot fashion statement on the naughty and kinky side, but maybe he saw it more like a ring. As a sort of commitment. She became aware she was standing in the doorway, neither in or out of the room, and Anna was waiting. With an awkward smile, she moved on in. Anna shut the door behind her.
She hung Charles’ jacket up on one of several hooks and took a good look at it. It was weather-beaten, soft and thoroughly broken in. Without its weight on her shoulders, she already felt naked; stripping off the T-shirt was easy. She’d always had panties on when trying on clothes; being there starkers felt naughty. She enjoyed the feeling for a moment before picking up the skirt. She sniffed, smelling the heady scent of leather. Yum. She had to consciously breathe to smell, but when she did, it was several times more intense.
She’d checked the size tag, but not the price tag. She whistled when she saw the price. Charles hadn’t batted an eye, but between the skirt and the top, she was running up quite a bill. Was there some expectation with that money? I already promised him I’d do anything he asked for a week. If he’d asked for a month, I’d have said yes. So it doesn’t really matter what his expectations are, I’ll live up to them. It was still quite a hunk of change.
She slid the skirt leather up her thighs. It struggled over her hips, but once she’d gotten it up to her waist she could zip it up quite neatly. The hem was a few inches above her knees. Looking in the mirror and pirouetting, she saw that it looked as tight as it felt on her posterior. She gave a little butt wiggle. She wasn’t psyched about her figure, but she had to admit the leather looked good on her.
Would I really do anything? No. Not anything. But I don’t think he’ll ask for more than I can do, somehow.
She turned her attention to the top. It was already laced in the back, but so tightly that there were several inches separating the two sides in front. She was about to take it off to loosen the back when she decided Charles would like the extra exposure. I only agreed to do what he asks. So why am I looking to please him even when he didn’t ask?
The leather pieces covered maybe half of her breasts, mostly from the center towards the outside, more underneath than on top. It required quite a bit of adjusting to make them cover her nipples. There was some light boning sewed into the leather sections, and she discovered if she tried to pull the laces tighter, her breasts moved towards her center, pushing up at the same time. She’d never had that much cleavage before. At least when it was strung tight she didn’t feel like she might pop out of it. There was still a two inch gap in front, and the garment did nothing to cover her tummy. Still, it all fit after a fashion. Maybe it was supposed to be like that. The clothes Charles had put her in at the club were almost tame by comparison. I can’t walk out on the street like this. Or can I? With Charles next to her, she thought maybe she could do it. At least the leather was pretty thick; no one could see whether her nipples were feeling perky or not. And if she wore the leather jacket, she wouldn’t be flashing so much skin. I might look Dommish, though. Or maybe like a vampire.
She drew herself up. Well, here goes nothing. She opened the dressing room door and stepped out.
Charles and Anna were both there waiting for her, and they both looked her up and down. But it was Charles whose opinion she wanted. And his approval was evident in his face. He looked like he wanted to fuck her right then and there, and she didn’t mind having that effect on him one bit.
She did a spin. “You approve?” She wanted to hear the words.
“Yes. You look lovely.” He managed at last.
“Like a million dollars,” said Anna. “Makes me want to bang you myself.”
“You wanted her,” said Charles drily, to Anna, “the moment she walked in here.”
“Well…”
So maybe she hadn’t looked like a potential shoplifter. Anna’s gaze had meant something else entirely. Even though she didn’t swing that way, it felt good to be desired.
“I’ll buy them,” Charles cut in. “She’ll be wearing them out.”
Doreen bit her lip.
Anna grinned. “Lucky girl. Let me clip off those price tags and I’ll ring them up.” Her hand disappeared behind the counter and came back with a sharp pair of scissors. Doreen wondered if Anna would try to sneak a feel in the process, but Anna leaned over the counter and snipped the tags off quite professionally. Doreen didn’t think she was disappointed, but she wasn’t entirely sure. Would Charles have been entertained, or would he be offended that Anna dared touch his girl? Either way, I win. Then the sexy thought gave way to the reality of having to out of the store dressed so provocatively.
“I’ll go get the jacket and the t-shirt. I’ll be right back out,” she said, words coming out in a hurry.
She came back out with the zipper zipped on the jacket, the T-shirt folded over her arm. And watched as Charles’ expression went from a smile to a frown. “What?” she asked. He didn’t really expect her to go out in public without the jacket, did he?
Anna butted in before Charles could speak. “I don’t think he bought you those clothes so you could hide them.”
Charles took a step towards her, largely blocking Anna from her view and requiring her full attention on him. “My jacket.” His voice was low but stern. “If you’re cold you can keep it on, but the zipper is under my control.” He unzipped it all the way. It didn’t do anything to cover her, except for maybe her arms, but it made her feel more protected, anyway. She loved the heavy feel of him wrapped around her, and she was glad he wasn’t taking it away.
“Thank you, Master.”
The frown disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Nothing else matters.”
And he was right. She walked out to the street with her arm hooked around his elbow, and she felt about ten times more aware of his presence than of how much skin she was showing. She knew her body was far from perfection, but he liked it, and that made her feel absolutely beautiful. She caught quite a few stares as they walked back towards the car, and while she once might have found the stares threatening, she soaked them in now. Eat your hearts out. And see the guy I’m with? He’s gorgeous, too.
She waited for a spot where there wasn’t anyone near them, and told Charles, “A lot of vampires I’ve met since Mario died wearing very covering clothes. Thick ones, too, since even in summer time we don’t have to worry about overheating. We hope if something bad happens we can survive for a little while after sunrise, if we’re covered up.”
“Makes sense. In general. Fortunately, it’s a long time until dawn.”
“Yes. And I’m all yours.”
He grinned. “Glad to hear it.” They were back in a crowd again. At this time of night, the club scene was starting to get going, and the club goers mixed with the shoppers to crowd Wisconsin Avenue. He steered her into a niche, letting a large bunch of college kids pass. Doreen watched them. They think it’s safe. They don’t know about the vampires. If anyone warned them, they’d have laughed.
She’d thought he was just moving them out of the way, but there was a glass door there, and he opened it up and led her inside.
Inside the thumping beat of a three piece band moved through a throng of people. There was barely room to dance, but people were trying, swaying back and forth and bumping into their neighbors. It took Doreen a moment to sort out the chaos and realize the band was actually very good. The bassist and lead singer was a blond with a short, ragged crop of hair and a torn pink t-shirt, and she had a low sultry voice. The drummer laid down a fast rhythm, and the guitarist played over it all with delicate arpeggios and jangling riffs.
To Doreen’s surprise, the singer took one hand off her bass for a moment to point right at them, and then she winked. Charles gave her a thumbs up, and got a grin in return as her hands returned to her instrument to pick up the bottom line.
“You know her?” she asked. She had to stand on the tips of her toes to get next to his ear and be sure to be heard.
>
He nodded, moving her in front of him and putting his arms around her waist. To the rhythm, they moved through the crowd to the dance floor proper, although people weren’t confining the moving and shaking to the wooden part of the floor. She could feel his strength against her back. This kind of crowd scene had never been something she sought, but she loved the music, and as long as he was touching her, it was okay.
“I helped them cut their demo CD,” Charles told her, nuzzling. “They’ve got an offer from a big record company, but they’re thinking of staying indie so they can do it their way.”
“They’re really good!”
“I think so too. So when are you going to play for me?”
Whenever you tell me to. But it was more complicated than that. Playing her cello was in some ways more intimate than sex. And she missed it. Did he pick that up when she had let him into her mind?
“I’ll have to get a new instrument, I think,” she told him.
“I’d love to hear it.”
She felt his arms push her breasts upward as they swayed. A few people looked their way, and the gazes tended to linger for longer than Doreen was used to. I guess this stuff doesn’t make me look fat.
He spun her around and then let her go. For a moment, they managed to drift a couple feet apart, but the crowd pushed them together again, the pressure of his hard, muscled torso squishing her breasts again. This time his hands went to her hips. She wiggled, and looked up at him, licking her lips. Dimly, she was aware of the heartbeats around her, but having tasted Charles, she really wasn’t very interested.
His hands moved around to her backside and squeezed. She moaned softly, the pressure sending sparks of pleasure straight to her pussy.
“Mine,” he whispered to her.
“Yours,” she said back. As exposed as she felt in the skimpy leather, he’d made sure she and everyone around them was aware of who she belonged to. She thought she could be completely naked with him in front of a stadium crowd and it would be okay. All his. As the music played on, she felt herself drift, hardly aware of her surroundings, except for him. His strength, his hands, his hard chest. She pushed her pelvis against him to see if he was hard every place, and she wasn’t disappointed.
Chilled to the Bone Page 9
