Page 35 of A Secret and a Lie
My voice has taken on a more authoritative tone withoutmeaning to, the Domme in me surfacing as I grip tightly to control of the situation. I should be allowing Ford to take the lead here, to learn, but I’m not about to risk Sloane’s safety for anyone or anything.
He doesn’t know her like I do.Not yet anyway.
That thought shouldn’t bother me half as much as it does.
I arch an eyebrow, silently demanding that she communicate with me. A moment later, her throat moves, and she sits up a little straighter. “It’s something I’ve been wanting to try again, and I don’t have any other clients I think I’d feel comfortable trying this with. I’ll be safe, especially since you’ll be here, too.”
Sloane had a bad experience once with a Dom and a cross. While he became food for the crows, I know from experience that it takes more than death for some scars to heal. I can’t fault her for wanting to try things that you once enjoyed again.
Her reasoning tracks; something about Ford is disarming. He makes you want to do things you otherwise wouldn’t.
My fingers thread through her hair affectionately, and she leans into the touch as I dip my chin, my gaze flicking back to Ford. Ultimately, this ishisscene, and Sloane ishissub. “Is pushing her limits on the cross something you’re comfortable with?”
Sloane gnaws on her bottom lip as she glances over at him. He nods. “We’ll take it slowly.”
She gifts him with a soft smile, getting to her feet, the straps of her lace top sliding down her shoulders as she begins to strip. My attention drifts over her head as she bends to shed her pants, expecting to find Ford’s eyes on her, but they aren’t. They’re squarely on me.
I open my mouth to say…something, anything, but Sloane chooses that moment to chirp, “I’m ready.”
Ford hauls himself to his feet, and I tell him, “This is your scene. I’ll be here if you need help as you navigate things.”
Giving them my back, I take the seat on the couch that Ford vacated, crossing my bare legs as I lean back, my skirt riding up. The scent of tobacco and black pepper clings to the cushions.Taking a steadying breath, I watch as the source of the heady aroma leads the petite submissive to the blackXand positions her in the middle.
She moves to give him her back, but he carefully grasps her shoulders and turns her toward him. “Face me,” he commands, his voice strong and husky. I’d be willing to bet his low alto pitch, combined with his order, has Sloane damp between the legs. God knows I’m wet, even if I loathe to admit it.
Sloane takes a deep breath, her chest visibly rising, offering her wrists to be restrained within the padded leather cuffs. The structure is more or less self-explanatory, so I don’t feel it’s necessary to walk him through how to restrain her.
He tests the cuffs, checking to make sure she still has good blood flow, and I find myself impressed that I didn’t have to instruct him to do that myself. Once he has her spread-eagle, he stands directly in front of her, presumably looking her in the eye, though I can’t see more than his back. His voice booms through the space. “How does that feel?”
She tugs on the restraints, the soft sound of the chains rattling making my pussy clench. “Good. Thank you.”
His head bobs once before moving toward the armoire, and I hold my breath, waiting to see what he chooses. When his hand reemerges, he’s fisting a blindfold and dragon tongue, the braided leather clutched tightly as the pointed leather tails swish, and something else I can’t see.
Glancing in my direction, our eyes connect briefly before he turns around, the items dangling from his grasp ominously. As he reaches Sloane once more, he states, “Remind us both of your safe word.”
“Red or liar, Clark.”
He’s such a natural at this: carefully assessing her wellbeing and forcing her to communicate before establishing a natural escape route for her, should she need it. I recross my legs, attempting to quell the wanton throb between them.
He steps up to her, the tails brushing over her skin, and I wonderif goosebumps have spread across her skin the way they would if that were me. I’m tempted to go see, but I stay rooted to the seat.
Circling the cross, he moves directly behind her, his eyes drilling into mine as he dips his chin to her ear, asking loudly enough that I can clearly hear, “Are you going to be good for me?”
“Yes, Clark,” she squeaks. His eyes remain glued to mine, even as he gathers her hair in his hand and she whimpers.
My breaths are practically audible as my chest expands behind my lace top and blazer, my attention still captivated by searing blue eyes. “What are you to me?”
“Your property, your pain whore.”
I shift in my seat, squirming as if I can somehow escape the heat that’s radiating from my core with the force of a thousand suns. I shouldn’t want that, not after what I’ve been through, but I do. It’s been so long since I craved the feeling that accompanied those derogatory terms lost to time and foul mouths forever sewn shut. I’d forgotten the spark of excitement they ignited.
“That’s right,” he tells her, still looking at me, and it’s so easy to imagine that he’s speaking to me instead. “My filthy toy.”
He winks at me, the expression playful and a death sentence for my hyperactive libido.
Ah, fuck.I can feel myself growing wetter, my body betraying my mind like the little slut she is around this man. My thighs rub together as I try in vain to seek unattainable relief.
Ford lifts the satin blindfold, covering Sloane’s eyes, but not thirty seconds later, she’s frantically shaking her head, a pained moan vibrating in her mouth. I frown, my gaze immediately assessing her and why her voice might sound panicked. Her chest expands too quickly, and I’m on my feet by the time Ford circles her.
