“Would he be using it on my tender parts?”
“Not unless you ask him to. Here, Bert, would you show West how the violet wand works?”
“Full demo on the submissive I have lined up is about to start…but here.” He grinned. “Hold out your hand, subbie.”
After a glance at me for reassurance, West did as ordered, extending his fist toward Bert.
“Open your hand,” I told him. “Palm up.”
The dom trailed the wand over his heart line, and West jumped then shivered. “Oh wow. I can see how that would be titillating.”
“Maybe we’ll try it sometime.” We continued on, stopping here and there while I asked West what he thought about the activities. He liked the spanking bench. “Let’s watch the St. Andrew’s cross for a moment.”
We stopped in front of the bound omega, remaining outside the marked circle for those participating only. The dominant, someone I’d only seen in passing and did not know, was checking the wrists and ankles of his submissive before stepping back and picking up a flogger.
“Is that what you do?” West asked as the dom went to work on the sub’s exposed buttocks and thighs. “Like that?”
“Sometimes. I like impact play in general, but the whip is my favorite tool.”
“The whip,” he breathed. “Wouldn’t that scar a person? I mean, in movies…”
“In movies, no doubt you have seen mostly whipping for punishment and probably meant in a cruel way.” I stroked his cheek. “I have left marks but never a scar.”
“I think I’d like to see what that is like,” he said thoughtfully. “I mean, someday.”
“And I would very much like to share that with you.” I brushed a kiss over his lips. “When you’re ready. For tonight, if you’re willing, I would be content to take you home and give you pleasure of a more mundane sort.”
“Nothing with you is mundane, and I’d love that, alpha. But one day, I’ll be ready for more. For, for your whip.”
“We’ll see.” I hoped so, but he’d have to come to it in his own time. “Maybe we’ll start with a little spanking in privacy.”
His shiver gave me hope.
Chapter Thirteen
West
Alex came to my home almost every day of the week now. We’d gotten into a routine. He came over and joined me in the office. We worked together while he showed me new ways of doing things. I listened and learned and soaked in all his knowledge.
The business was thriving. Alex had made my job so automated and easy that I could get most of the work done in four hours, which begged the question as to why Emile was handcuffed to his desk and laptop for twelve hours at a time.
I tucked that inquiry into my mental pocket for exploration later, or to forget about it altogether.
Little by little, I learned to let go of those questions that would never be answered. Emile had kept things to himself and had ways of living his life that were a mystery to me even though I was the one in his bed at night and by his side for years.
In moving on, I had to accept that some answers would be buried right alongside my former mate.
“That’s it?” I asked no one in particular once the tasks for the day had been completed and emails had been answered. My checklist was done.
I bounced on my toes. It was only noon. And Alex was leaning against the wall and staring at me.
“How about lunch?” I asked. “And what are you staring at?”
“A happy and beautiful man. Lunch sounds great. What did you have in mind?”
We always ate whatIwanted. Alex was so easygoing.
“None of that.” I put my hands on my hips. “What do you want? My treat.” The alpha did always for me. Dinners. Movies. Lunches. He insisted.