ach. “As you see, I’m equally enamored by your presence.” Trapped in his tight hold, she gasped, and he stole the sound, pressing his mouth against hers.
She tumbled into his strong embrace.
Elliott’s kisses were of a man who knew his worth. One who understood the power he held over a woman and was aware of how to raise her into mind-boggling euphoria. Each swipe of his tongue was not simple but purposeful. It was of a Dom who was well educated in how to kiss and command a woman. His hands moved to gently caress her face as he continued to rub his hardened length against her belly, teasing her with his erection.
She shifted against the wetness in her panties, and the ache she was feeling was something she had not felt in so long. The yearning to be filled by a thick, beautiful cock. She squirmed against him and moaned, as desperation consumed her.
He broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers. “Christ, Mary.”
“I know, sir,” she whispered the same understanding.
This connection between them, it was raw and real, and it was undeniably amazing. It reminded her of…
She forced the thought away, trying to stay in the now. She thought coming to the party tonight would free her sexually, though she’d never expected Elliott’s touch to stir so many memories of Charles. Nor had she prepared herself to feel the electric buzz running through her at his presence. The way he made her feel was familiar. Her reactions to Elliott didn’t feel like simple D/s play. There was a level of passion and yearning that made her ache for this man. His touch burned through her, and she needed…more.
He drew in a long breath and then leaned away, running his hands down her arms. Then he took a step back, giving Mary breathing space as he trailed his fingers down her rib cage. “Why do you wear this corset?”
She ran her hands down the front, enjoying how thin it made her waist. “I feel beautiful in it.” Last week had marked the first time she’d gone into a lingerie store in years. Oh, the fun she had. The second she saw the corset, she didn’t need to see anything more.
Elliott considered her, then tsked. “I believe that is part of the reason you wear corsets, but I also think a woman of your experience would know better than to lie to a Dom.”
She stared up into his warm brown eyes. “I do know better.”
“Good.” He folded his arms over his thick chest. “I’ll ask again, why do you wear this corset?”
Mary had seen some submissives shy away in a moment like this. But years of playing and being comfortable in the role had her lifting her chin. “I’m a mother of three. My stomach has stretch marks and is not my best attribute. I feel more comfortable in a corset than I would naked.”
His gaze softened with his sweet smile. “The truth sounds so much prettier coming from your mouth.” He slid his hand along the front of her corset. “These are marks of life and nothing to be ashamed of. Why do you think a man would see stretch marks from childbirth as flaws?”
She swallowed as something seductive passed in the air between them. The way Elliott moved and his subtle commands were controlling. He knew how to look at her, how to talk to her. It all set her aflame. After a stabilizing breath, she gave an easy shrug. “Truthfully, my choice to wear corsets isn’t about the man. It’s about me and how I’m most comfortable.”
His grin slowly built to a bright smile. “Ah, and that’s what makes you such a lovely woman.” He tucked a finger under her chin, forcing her gaze. “A submissive who knows herself and stays true to herself is a thing of beauty.” Taking a step back toward the bed, he shrugged off his coat and removed his shirt with quick fingers. “Do you see my scars?”
Mary swallowed deeply, as all she saw was a fit man. Her fingers itched to run through his soft chest hair. His thick frame delighted her with the slight definition of muscle on his stomach. Then she noticed the scars along his torso. “Yes, I see them. Appendix and spleen.”
Surprise lightened his eyes. “How do you know what surgeries I’ve had?”
“I’m a doctor.” She glanced to the scars again on his torso and laughed. “I could be wrong, of course.”
“In fact, you’re not.” His grin remained intact as his brow arched. “Tell me, do my scars look ugly to you?”
She gave him a slow, appreciative once-over. “Absolutely not.”
“Precisely. Scars are marks of life and don’t matter. Take off the corset.”
Mary took a step back, a sense of unease cutting through her. “No.”
He matched her retreat and closed the distance. His voice lowered. “No?”
“No, sir,” she repeated softly.
She might be a confident woman, but she hadn’t been naked for a man that wasn’t Charles since she was in her twenties. After three children, things were not nearly as tight as they’d once been. “I’m not comfortable with that, sir.”
“Hmmm…” He tapped his lip, his eyes narrowing. “I see.”
Under that all-consuming stare of his, she burned. He looked to her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve. As an experienced submissive, she knew this was their negotiation and his testing of her. She also knew what she wanted and how she wanted it.
Mary had power now, and she intended for Elliott to witness it.