Wasn’t there an old saying about the perfect woman being a lady in public and a whore in the bedroom?
Anne was a lady in public and a ballbuster—literally—in private.
With a smile, she trailed her hand over his bare chest as she walked past. “And, since I don’t indulge myself for all to see, the privacy is for me as well.”
Indulge. Refined language that meant he’d get to go down on her or fuck her.
A private room had advantages without a doubt.
He closed the door behind him and checked out the surroundings. Sure wasn’t the western room they’d used before, but more like the clichéd “harem” décor seen in old black-and-white movies.
Of course, the Shadowlands took the theme to a whole new level.
Opulent. Lavish. Darkly erotic.
Showcased in the center was a mahogany-fretworked canopy. Its golden draperies half-concealed a wide lounge.
Ben looked up. The ceiling was painted maroon and stenciled with elaborate designs. Under his bare feet was a silky Oriental carpet in golds and reds. Amazing. The whole room sang of carnal heat—and his blood was picking up the tune.
At the door, Anne turned a dial, dimming the brass-and-amber candelabra lights on the metal-trimmed dresser.
As Ben checked out the X-shaped St. Andrew’s cross in one corner, his image in the ornate mirror on the wall duplicated his movements. Great—he could watch himself getting his ass beat.
He eyed Anne. “So…am I the sultan or the eunuch, Ma’am?”
“Well, Benjamin, let’s check.” She reached between his legs, fondled his solid erection, and cupped his balls.
The surprise was a shot of hi-test octane to his spine.
“Mmm.” Her appreciative hum made his chest expand. “You’re definitely not a eunuch. I do believe all your equipment is functioning nicely.”
His blood pressure rose. If she kept stroking him like that, he’d show her every function he had.
Then she gave his testicles a toe-curling squeeze and moved away to set her toy bag on an ebonized-wood Moroccan chest. “Strip off the jeans, please, Benjamin. Then lie down on the chaise longue there.”
“No restraints, Ma’am?” He could try the bondage shit. He would. For her.
“Not this time.” As she pulled two floggers and a short, ugly black whip from her bag, her half-smile was…worrisome. “I don’t think you’ll move a muscle after I begin.”
His feet halted at that. In fact, his gas pedal was stuck on empty until she jerked her chin at the chaise.
Fuck, she was going to mess with him all right.
Yet, as he walked across the room and drew in slow, deep breaths, his mind eased into acceptance, sliding down into a quiet place that was both erotic as hell and almost meditative. The combination was unsettling. She’d hurt him in a way that wasn’t…quite…pain, dealing out sensations that’d transmuted inside him into something new. Something fucking carnal.
Sometimes the burn was that of an intense workout, one where his muscles were pumped and screaming to stop. He loved a good exercise rush—but working out never gave him a hard-on like this.
Or made him want to put his arms around the weights and kiss them senseless, to drive himself into—
“Ben.”
“Right. Sorry, Mistress.” Stripping didn’t take long since all he’d worn were jeans. He set them to one side and stretched out on the unusual furniture. Fairly comfortable. Wide enough for his shoulders. Even had an armrest on the right side.
A man had to wonder what’d happened to the second armrest.
At the St. Andrew’s cross, Anne was setting up her instruments of pain and pleasure. Then she dipped into her toy bag one more time, removing a pair of scissors, a towel, and a small brush and comb.
“You going to cut my hair?”
Both of her dimples showed. “That depends on your answer.”
He liked his hair, but… Man up, Haugen. “If my long hair bothers you, go ahead, Ma’am. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had short hair.”
Her laugh was low. “I wasn’t talking about the hair on your head, guard dog.”
Oh shit. He managed not to cover up his package. Barely. “You want to shave my dick?”
“Actually, yes.” Her smile widened. “You see, Benjamin”—she sat on the lounge beside him—“I object to having hair in my face, which means you lose out on nice long blowjobs, which I enjoy giving.”
She’d suck his dick? And like it? He inhaled slowly. “I thought Dominants weren’t into offering BJ’s.”
Puzzlement drew her brows together before she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ben. You’ve been part of the Shadowlands so long, I sometimes forget you’ve been stuck out in the entry. You’re right to a degree. Some Doms believe going down on their submissive decreases their power.” She took his hand and sucked on one finger.