Page 43 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“I can’t explain it, but I know you’re the right Dominant to teach me.”

I trace lazy circles on her back, at war with myself over what to do. I know what I want and what I should do are two very different things.

“You’re not ready. It kills me, little one. Believe me.”

“Please, Sir.” She pushes herself up and presses her lips to mine. Her kiss is electric, setting my whole body on fire.

Tangling my fist in her hair, I hold her close, darting my tongue out to meet hers in a slow, sensual fuck. My resolve dies on my lips at the sight of tears welling in her eyes. Rolling her onto her back, she moans into my mouth. I convince myself I’m making it right, giving her the tenderness she deserves on the night she lost her virginity, but I know it’s selfish of me.

She melts under me, her legs spread wide, wrapping around my waist as I position myself at her entrance, slowly working my way in. She’s wet and eager to take all of me, but I know she’s hurting. If this is the last I have of her, I want her to know there can be a gentleness to submission. A tangling of two souls if only for one night.

“Oh God… Sir,” she whispers, her hands wrapping around my back, digging into my shoulders as I rock in and out of her sweet pussy. I take my time, kissing her with a tenderness I never afford my submissives in training. She feels so fucking good, taking every hard inch of me as we lose ourselves to the soft sensation, our bodies intertwined. At this moment, we’re lovers. I’m not her Dominant. We move in sync, her hips rising to meet every thrust, her moans of pleasure driving me to the edge of madness. I want her more than my next breath, and as a silent, powerful wave washes over us, we find release in each other’s arms.

When she’s breathless in my arms, our limbs tangled together, I press my lips to hers in a plea for forgiveness. She might not see it right now, but when she does, she’ll hate me for taking her virginity in such a cold, hard, and calculated way. This is the least I could do to make up for it in some small way.

Guilt is an unfamiliar emotion for me, and yet it weighs heavy in my chest.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, little one. Loving, caring, everything you deserve. Not a guy like me, who’ll fuck you up and spit you out. Do you understand?”

She doesn’t answer, her breaths soft and even asleep in my arms. My little one looks so peaceful, and all I want to do is untie her mask and gaze at her blissful face.

It’s been three days since I deflowered my mystery submissive, and I’ve thought of virtually nothing else. The only time I get a reprieve is in the operating room. I have been channeling my desire to teach into my new residents. They are benefiting from my sexual frustration.

I set out the rules for my little one after we spent the night at the club—a first for me. She was so beautiful as she slept. I couldn’t bring myself to wake her up, even though I never sleep with submissives. Having a woman in my bed has never been for anything other than sex. Sleeping—actually sleeping—is a foreign concept to me. I spent my years of medical training grabbing an hour here and there in on-call rooms, too tired and dedicated to bother making a home for myself.

Yes, I have an amazing apartment that overlooks Central Park, but it’s not what I think a home should be. For me, it’s all fairy tales and whimsical notions born of a childhood spent in and out of group homes. I’ve never known what it truly feels like to have a family and a place that gives me a sense of belonging.

Now that I’m an attending, I spend more time at my apartment, but I usually pass my waking hours at the club. The past three days, I’ve had too much time to think about her, fighting the urge to summon her to my room at Venom and do all manner of wicked things to her body.

In truth, I’m not sure how to proceed at this point, and that’s unlike me. I make decisions based on all relevant information and move forward in all things with conviction. This woman has me floundering.

After setting my phone down on the nightstand, it pings with a message.

Lavender: Good evening, Sir.

It’s shameful how my dick instantly hardens for her.

Me: Hello, little one.

Lavender: I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was a virgin. I hate that you don’t trust me. It’s been eating away at me.

Me: Have you decided how you want to move forward?

Lavender: I still want you to be my Dominant for the agreed time.

My pulse quickens at the thought of bringing her back to my playroom.

Me: Are you ready to be open with me?

Lavender: Can we take it slow?

Me: Of course. I’m going to send you some reading material. It contains more information about praise kink and degradation. Based on your responses the last time we were together, I believe you favor one over the other, but some submissives like both, which can be more challenging. Read up and reach out when you’re done.

Lavender: Yes, Sir.

Me: Goodnight, little one.

Lavender: Goodnight, Sir.

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