Branded (The Club)

“I guess that depends on what you want, darlin’.” I imagined her on the edge, precariously close to falling into the abyss, and I wanted to take her hand and have her jump with me. I can’t do this for her, though, and the minutes stretched between us.

“Is this where I get on my hands and knees and crawl, or do you spank me first?” There’s no humor in her voice, but there’s no disgust either.

I seriously questioned myself for bringing her so quickly. I could have waited, but my selfishness and a month celibate clouded my judgment. “I think quite a bit happens before we get to that.”

She paused. “Do I call you master?”

I laughed. Her naivety was so fucking refreshing.

Her brow furrowed. “Oh? So that is part of it?”

“It can be, if you want it to. Generally speaking, we would establish rules first and a safe word, but I don’t think that’s necessary for tonight.” I moved a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, rubbing the softness between callouses on my fingers.

“Why don’t you just show me?” She shrugged.

I didn’t want to show her because I was afraid even the mild version of what I wanted would make her skittish. Instead I closed my eyes, briefly taking in my other senses. I was close enough that I could catch the wine on her breath, and I wondered if two glasses made her that courageous. Her slightly peachy scent and the tactile softness of her skin that was warm under my fingers was temptation.

Instead, I went with muted honesty.

“I don’t know if you’re being brave or have no clue what you’re asking.” This was unorthodox in how I approached these arrangements, but I thought that was the charm of Miss Langley Dawson. She was unexpected, and it kept me interested to see where this would go.

“Both, I think.” Her hands perched on her hips and her head cocked. Such a smart mouth on her and I blamed the white zinfandel.

“Must be the wine,” I muttered.

She surprised me by laughing out loud an awkward sound she covered with her hand.

“Should I take off my clothes or something?” she asked in a cheeky tone.

Or something…definitely came to mind. I shook my head, finally giving in to what I’d wanted all night. I walked around Langley to sit on the couch, and her head twisted following my movement. I hoped the space would calm my racing heart and dark fantasies but it didn’t when I ordered her to remove her clothes.

“Take off your dress, but leave you bra and panties on,” I told her, spreading my legs open and relaxing back against the cushions.

She stood still, hesitating, her mouth opened. I was betting she didn’t think I would take up her challenge. I reminded myself she was untaught, untrained, and had no idea that any other Dom would have punished her for not complying immediately by now.

I watched her throat bob nervously.

“Now?” A shaky shiver filled her voice, turning me on unexpectedly. Her hand rose to her shoulder but stopped short of pulling her dress down. Fear wasn’t something that got me off, but her hesitation to trust me with what I was asking her do after a mere handful of moments knowing each other made my cock thicken impossibly hard against my dress pants.

“We only have the room for an hour, so yes now,” I instructed her, patting my knee.

She took a step closer, almost within my reach. Her brow furrowed on a deep exhalation. She tugged the dress down her arms letting the fabric pool over the toes of her heeled feet and those ridiculous ankle bows that reminded me far too much of restraints and spreader bars. Silk caught for a brief second on her small pink nipples that had hardened in the air, turning upward on her full breasts. They looked like pink candy dots, and I wanted to suck them and see if they tasted sweet.

I raised my brow, and she stepped forward out of the convergence of silk on the floor. Her mound was covered in pale cotton and a lace panel that showed me blonde curls.

“Sloan?”

“Come, Langley.” I patted my knee again instructing her to sit on it. I held her up by her arms and kept my eyes on hers. Peaches. I can smell them on her skin, and the soft fuzziness reminded me how delicate she was and how easily she might bruise under rougher administrations. I kept that in mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to peruse her body fully under my gaze; it was that I found her to be much more than a body and a vessel for my dominant pursuits.

My hands ran up and down soft skin, calming the pebbles of chill and nerves she physically displayed.

“That feels good.” Her head swayed, and her chest lifted on a breath.

“I’d like it to feel better, wouldn’t you?” If touch were electric, I imagined sparks between the pads of my fingers and her skin.

“I-yes, please.”

“Good girl, Langley,” I murmured, letting my voice drop. “Lean forward.” She did as I asked, and I shifted her body half over mine on the velvet couch keeping her abdomen resting on my knee hooking an arm underneath her. She was going to squirm once I got my hands on her and my fingers inside her. I needed her secure for this exercise.