Page 26 of Britain

On wobbly legs, I turn around so my back is to him. He brings it around and his cologne hits my nose; it makes me want to bury my face in his shirt. The leather touches my throat and I reach back to lift my hair so he can fasten it. I touch the little lock that sits at the base of my throat.

Once he has it buckled he comes around, stopping right in front of me. “It looks beautiful on you.”

I blush at the compliment. He makes me feel so special, and like I’m the only person he sees.

“I’m going to grab your bag and then leave you to get ready. It’s about a thirty-minute drive from here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I watch his retreating back as he disappears out of his bedroom and listen to his footsteps as he goes downstairs. Sure enough, he returns moments later and sets my bag on his bed. “Come downstairs when you’re done.” He kisses my lips softly before disappearing downstairs.

Twenty minutes later, I’m staring at myself in the mirror. The green satin boy shorts hug the butt I’ve always hated. Marcus used to tell me I had a flat butt. Right now, it looks very flattering. The shorts sit low on my hips, and they don’t hide my little tiny pooch on my lower stomach, but I just ignore it. The top pushes my breasts up, giving the appearance of cleavage. My eyes zero in on the collar around my neck.

“You can do this,” I whisper over and over until I almost believe it. After slipping on the romper, I smooth it out. I’m really stepping out of my comfort zone here. After brushing my teeth, I redo my powder and put some more lip gloss on.

Back in his bedroom, I slip on my wedges, take a deep breath, and head downstairs. Silas is in a pair of dark gray jeans and a black t-shirt that molds to his chest. His dark blond hair looks like he’s run his fingers through it. As I walk toward him, I notice he isn’t smiling at me. Did I screw up already?

I look down and back up. “Is something wrong? Do I look bad?” Worrying my lower lip, I trip over my feet and watch him come toward me as I right myself. That’s when I see he’s got a brush in his hand. “What’s that for?”

In front of me, he stops. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but it means so much to me that you left your hair down tonight. You’re wearing clothes you’re not totally comfortable in, and I want to show you how much that means to me. I’d love it if you let me braid your hair.”

Why does that gesture make me want to cry? I suck back that feeling. “I’d like that very much,” I tell him as he leads me to one of the bar stools at his kitchen island.

With practiced skill, he has my hair braided and hanging over one shoulder in no time. I look at him with wonder and for once he’s the one who’s blushing.

“I used to braid my sister’s hair.”

He grabs my hand and then leads me out. Nerves, excitement, arousal, and trepidation are the feelings inside me as we take the elevator down.

Chapter Twelve

Silas

When we first get into the SUV, Britain is very quiet. For the first ten minutes of the drive she says nothing, and I’m worried I’m pushing her too fast. There’s a spot up ahead that I’m about to do a U-turn at, but she reaches over and grabs my hand.

“I’m really scared, and trying really hard not to be.”

I bring our joined hands to my lips and kiss the back of hers. “We can go back to my place. We’ll go see a movie or something. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. Seriously, I do.” She turns a little in her seat, or as much as she can strapped in, and leans her head against the seat. “Tell me some more rules. Please.” I give her a pointed look and she adds a whispered, “Sir.”

Every time the word “Sir” leaves her mouth, my dick twitches so fucking hard. Hell it’s getting hard now, anticipating what she looks like in the little outfit I bought her. I want to reach out and finger her collar, but I don’t. I would lose all control, and then I really would scare her away. I’ve never put any sort of collar on anyone before.

Even if she liked to play and that was something we explored, I would only ask she wear it when we’re at the club, to keep other Doms away.

It’s a heady, powerful feeling knowing that she’s mine. “Okay, don’t make eye contact with anyone but me. If someone speaks to you, you must wait for my permission to talk. Only two drinks per person because they don’t want people drunk, regretting their decisions. No talking to the other subs, and just so you know, there will be some there that I’ve fucked.”

I don’t miss the flinch, but I power through. “I know that’s not easy to hear, but I’ve been single until now, and there are subs there that are unattached who I’ve scened with. If one of them says anything negative to you, I want to know right away. Is that understood?” When I pull out my Dom voice my body comes alive and buzzes with desire.

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

We pull up to the large mansion and I climb out, handing the valet my keys before coming around and helping Britain out. I smile at her reaction, because the place is pretty fucking amazing. The large brick structure is decorated in lights that give it an elegant look. The shrubbery and grass are well-landscaped. We reach the set of double doors that open as soon as we reach them.

Inside, it looks like the front desk of a hotel, but smaller—the walls are mixtures of creams and golds with a borderline ostentatious chandelier hanging from the ceiling. With my hand to the small of her back, I lead Brit to the desk.

Vivian, the Domme, is working behind it. She smiles as we approach, and I don’t miss the way her eyes rake over my girl. I love how immediately Britain has already gone into submissive mode, keeping her head down. “Hello, Silas. How are you this evening?”

“I’m good, Vivi. I need guest paperwork for my sub.”

Her eyes move over Britain again. “Yes, she’s lovely.” I shake my head, because she’s trying to get inside Britain’s head.

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