Page 71 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“Your inexperience isn’t the issue. You proved that upstairs. What matters is you. Did you enjoy what we did?”

“Yes, but I’m already afraid that Celest won’t be able to look me in the eye. She and I have never coexisted in a sexual scenario.”

“Coexisted? Is that what we’re calling it?” He gives me a panty-melting smile, and I melt.

“What would you call it then, oh wise Dom?”

“I’d say you got off on watching your friend come. You appreciated her beauty and the way her mouth felt as her lips kissed your breasts. You loved every second of it. I felt how wet you were while I spanked you, little one. You’re an exhibitionist.”

“Ugh.” I cover my eyes, so embarrassed.

“Freya,” he whispers, pulling my arm from my face. “You’re allowed to enjoy all those things. Trust me, Celest is open-minded. She engages only in activities that she’s comfortable with. She didn’t strip, get off, and kiss you because she didn’t want to say no. She did it because you’re beautiful, and she wanted to help you learn what you like and dislike. I promise she will look you in the eye when you leave here.”

“I’m usually such a confident person. I’ve always known what I want from my career, and even that is proving difficult right now.”

“Why? Because of me?”

“Yes. And no. It complicates things, but not enough that I want to stop whatever it is we’re doing here. I respect you as a doctor, and I’d be a fool to walk away from your mentorship.”

“Simplify it then. I’m your mentor at work. I’m your mentor in this club. The two don’t have to intersect unless you want them to.”

“You mean we can keep us a secret at work?”

“If you want.” A pang of disappointment hits me out of left field.

“That’s what you want. I guess it wouldn’t look good to be dating your protégé.”

He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I asked you a question. This isn’t about me. I’m taking your lead here, little one. You use the word dating, yet you told me we were done just a few days ago. Until you decide what you want from me, I won’t speak a word of it, mostly because it’s nobody else’s fucking business.”

“I don’t know what we are. We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, are we? What do people refer to each other as in the lifestyle? Sure, in here, I can call you my Dom or Daddy, but I’d be crucified for using those terms with normal people.”

“We are normal people, Freya. And, yes, I’m using your name because wherever you are and whatever I call you or you call me, we’re good people. We save lives every day. You have to get out of this close-minded thinking. The world is far more accepting than you think. More and more people are embracing their kinks and are unapologetic for it. As it should be.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what,” he whispers, softly caressing my cheek, his eyes in a haze as he stares at my lips.

“Needing you.”

“I’m your Dom. You’re supposed to need me.”

“I’m your trainee. We have an agreement, not a relationship.”

“And would it change things for you if what we have had a different definition?”

He trails his fingers down my chest, the lightest of touches kissing my nipples. His hands are beautiful, literally and physically—strong, manly, and yet I know they are capable of the closest humankind can come to magic.

“I love your hands.” I blurt it out without thinking.

“Good to know,” he says as it moves lower, cupping my pussy.

“I meant as a surgeon. You have such skilled hands.”

He dips one finger inside me, making me squirm. “Only skilled for surgery?”

“I… yes. Your hands are amazing no matter what you’re doing.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Does the definition matter?”

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