Page 6 of Destined By Dragonblood
Rather than kneeling in wait as a submissive club member would have done, Dolyn remained standing, every inch of his hairless, golden skin on full display. He appeared like a statue chiseled from stone—cock included—and my mouth filled with moisture.
Heat rushed through my body, settling into my groin and making my leather pants suddenly way too tight. Perhaps going commando hadn’t been the best choice, but I hadn’t been expecting this type of physical reaction toward a man.
Dolyn was a magnet, drawing me closer and tempting me to partake of something new, and I had no qualms about exploring this awakened part of me. Since I wasn’t sure how to do so without physical touch, I would rely on intuition more than logic.
I shut the door, leaving us in silence, completely cut off from the outside world. A hush, full of tension and expectation, flooded the room and made the hairs on my nape stir.
Our gazes held, sending a zing of pure lust straight to my cock and causing a full hard-on, which I didn’t mind in the slightest. His audacity to keep his golden brown eyes latched onto mine, however…
I raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t drop his focus to the floor as one ought to do when their master for the next hour entered the room.
Dolyn’s chin tipped upward in a slight hint of defiance, almost like he…looked down at me. As if those two inches he had on me made him superior. He didn’t realize exposing his neck in such a way suggested the opposite.
Giddiness lit in my stomach, spreading throughout my limbs, but I bit my grin back while blatantly adjusting my bulge. I approached, already knowing from his file I’d gone over a few times before dressing in my leather pants and harness that Dolyn disliked submitting.
And yet he’d paid to feel the bite of a cane.
A puzzle for sure, unexpected and thoroughly exciting. Also none of my business. I was in this room for one purpose alone: Give him his money’s worth of pain while enjoying the hell out of my mental release or more, depending on how our scene progressed.
Dolyn stared straight ahead as I slowly circled him, taking in his muscled mass. His shoulders, set back in confidence, were wider than my own. The V shape of his back would cause any bodybuilder envy, the dimples and swell of his ass a dominant’s dream. Thick thighs, bulging calves…hell, even his feet were perfectly formed.
Sex on a stick took on a whole new meaning, as did Greek god. Dolyn was the perfect specimen of a man, but nothing about him intimidated me or suggested he had a dominant bone in his body, regardless of his stance and the claims he’d made on the forms.
Something inside me insisted I let out that damned chuckle, but I stifled the sound for the second time, sure he would be offended by my amusement over the front he attempted to put on.
I rounded Dolyn to face him, and as though drawn to me, he leaned closer regardless of him attempting to peer down his nose at me.
Less than a foot separated our flesh, and heat zaps like lightning ignited between us.
And I thought I’d experienced lust and desperation to dominate before.
Nothing compared to the intense want vibrating inside me. Dolyn’s unconscious desire to submit begged me to attend to him, explore the desire he attempted to deny, and reward him for yielding to me. Every cell of my being craved to command him, mark his skin, and watch him sink into subspace, which I sensed he yearned for regardless of his facade.
I despised being lied to, and this man reeked of dishonesty.
Or perhaps he simply didn’t yet understand the depths of his true self, thus denying he was a submissive creature by nature.
“Why are you here, Dolyn?” I had no right to his personal business, but if there were triggers he’d left unlisted and I inadvertently ignited, shit might get ugly. I refused to have that kind of drama in my club.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he either showed his first outward sign of submission by shifting his focus to the wall behind me or he did so out of guilt for lying.
I wasn’t convinced he would know the real reason if I asked.
“I crave pain and am allowing myself one last night to indulge.” His low voice, husky as though he’d smoked for years, slid over my skin, awakening every hair follicle on my body.
I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the scent of fire and smoke—but not tobacco. More along the lines of...cedar embers.
Delicious.
The unexpected descriptor whispered through my mind, but I studied Dolyn’s full lips, somehow knowing he would be the embodiment of that word and so much more.
“Master Vanni,” I murmured the title he’d forgotten when addressing me.
“No man is my master.”
I looked forward to proving him wrong. “Sir, then,” I stated firmly, giving my attention to the rest of his face to see what other tells he gave away.
Jaw clenched, Dolyn nodded, the golden glints in his whiskey-colored eyes giving way to swelling pupils. Pink flushed his cheeks, the throbbing pulse in his neck suggesting he was as equally affected by our proximity as I was.
