Page 33 of Black Velvet

He is standing about three feet away from me, still studying me, just looking. Yet I feel as if he's touching me, as if it's not his eyes but his skilled hands that are exploring my body inch for inch. I've never been ashamed about being naked in front of a man. It was part of my job, it was expected, and once you've done something hundreds of times, it comes as natural to you as brushing your teeth. Even nakedness loses its taboo after a while.

But now, I can feel the shame of humiliation glowing on my cheeks. My pulse races, and I'm trying my best not to let him see me trembling as he takes me in. My head moves down, tilting just for a second, before I catch myself and remember his instructions. It's too hard to look him in the eye, because it’s a dead giveaway about the part of my body he’s currently staring at.

But I need to focus on something while he examines me. I opt to analyze his hair, my gaze latching on to the dark brown wayward strand on the right side of his face partly covering his eye.

"You are fucking perfect," he whispers. "How can someone so corrupted look so pure and innocent?"

He looks up, catching my gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he says. "I almost feel sorry about the things I will do to you."

The things he will do to me?

My eyes meet his, filled with questions. Is he going to hurt me? But if he were into that type of thing, why did he ask to be taken to the black room instead of one of the red ones?

"Turn around for me, Elene."

The way he says my name gets me every time. His voice is husky and deep, more like a sigh, and somehow laced with affection. Every time he calls me by my name it feels as if he's reaching right inside me, squeezing my racing little heart before he retreats as quickly as he charged at me.

I do as I'm told and turn my back to him. Losing eye contact should make this easier, but on the contrary, I feel even more exposed. And he only makes it worse when he utters his next command.

"Bend over," he says, as if it were the most natural thing to do. "Bend over and show me that pretty little ass."

I blush but comply, making sure to hollow my back when I tilt my upper body, because I know it will make my ass look so much better.

"Good girl."

The words drape me in a warm and comforting embrace, spawning arousal at the same time.

"Now show me that beautiful pussy," he orders next, and I inhale, gasping with shame.

I turn my head, casting him a look over my shoulder. He's still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his strongly muscled chest, jerking his chin forward.

"Don't play that shy act with me," he barks. "I told you, you have nothing to hide in front of me. And it's not like you haven't done this before."

This is where he is wrong. I haven’t ever done this before. I've never been asked to expose myself in this way, and I'm most definitely not playing any kind of act right now. This is embarrassing as hell—but also so fuckinghot.

I can't help but mewl with shame when I reach backward, grabbing my ass cheeks and pulling them apart as much as possible. I expose the most intimate part of my body to him, illuminated by that damn light right above my head.

But it's not even the gesture or the situation alone that fuels my embarrassment. No, it's not just that.

I'm afraid that he might see.

I'm afraid that he might see how wet I am.

My core has been tingling with need ever since we climbed the staircase and proceeded down the long hallways to this room. My insides are brewing with anticipation, because I've been waiting for this, for him. And it has only gotten worse since we stepped inside this room and he started commanding me around. I was shaky with lust and humiliation once he told me to undress in front of him. I took my time, not only because I was nervous, but because I enjoyed the way it made me feel. It was new and confusing, but my heart fluttered with every piece of clothing I took off.

"That's it," he breathes. "Stay like this."

I hear him moving behind me. He's coming closer; I can sense his short but heavy-footed steps, barely audible on the soft carpet beneath our feet. I see his shadow approaching from my left. He comes to a halt, and while standing next to me nonchalantly places his hand on my bare behind. He pets my ass softly, but even this light touch sends sparks shooting through me. With every caress, his hand is moving closer to my wet center, until the tips of his fingers are only inches away from my hot core.

I start trembling, unable to control myself.

"Stand up."

His voice pulls me up like a string is attached to my head. I follow instinctively, my hands leaving my behind and returning to their previous position right next to my hips. His hand remains cupping my left butt cheek while he moves even closer.

"Do you want me to touch you?" he asks.

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