Okay, the guy I was having sex with was rich enough that he had special heaters for walking barefoot in his closet. I may have been in over my head.
A nearly full-length trifold mirror was built in between the jackets and pants, and lit from above with can lights. He stopped me from going any further, and sat down in the delicate white wing chair in front of it. No shit, he really had room for an honest-to-god chair in his closet.
My closet was just a pipe that wasn’t supposed to bear weight.
“Why don’t you take that dress off?” he suggested, settling back and resting one ankle atop his opposite knee.
“I thought I was getting a present,” I reminded him.
“You will. I’d like mine first.” He braced his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled the tips of his fingers. “It’s not a request. Take off the dress.”
A shiver raced down my spine. God, I loved following instructions.
I reached behind me for the zipper, conscious that he could see my every movement in the reflection behind me. Because of this, I posed my hand, reaching under the zipper as though I were plucking a berry, and slowly drew it down. The room was so quiet that I could hear every tooth part and the whisper of the tulle as I pushed the fabric from my shoulders. I gave a little wriggle, and the dress fell free, revealing my black lace overlay corset.
“Who did you wear that for?” he asked, his deep voice warning that there was only one right answer.
“For you, Sir.” My breasts swelled over the top of the corset as I took a deep breath.
“And you didn’t wear any panties? Was that also for me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me why.” He fixed me with his intense green gaze, almost predatory.
I wet my lips, my pulse pounding between my legs, my pussy flooding with every beat. “Because... I wanted to make it easy for you. I wanted you to be able to touch me.”
“You don’t have to make it easy for me.” He looked my body up and down, and it was like a physical caress. “If I wanted you, I could have you. We both know that.”
“Yes, Sir.” He would find no argument from me. Not when I felt like this; all I wanted was to please him. “Any time. Anywhere.”
I could say that, and mean it with my entire soul, without fear of reproach. We could surrender ourselves to each other when it was a game. He could give himself wholly to me, through his control, and I would own him as much as he owned me.
“Come here.” He crooked a finger at me, and I obeyed easily, walking toward him until he held up a hand to stop me. “That’s far enough.”
He reached out with two fingers and traced the neatly trimmed line of hair on my mound, down my slit, parting me, skimming over my already inflamed flesh. “Tell me again... when can I have this?”
“Any time, Sir.” I took a breath, knowing my request would be denied before I even uttered it. “Now, Sir.”
He took his hand away. Just like I knew he would. He stood, putting his arms around me to gently turn me, until I faced our reflections in the mirror. He held my gaze in the glass, one hand splayed possessively across my stomach over the corset. With his other hand he stroked my hair back from my bare shoulder, his touch lingering on my skin. He reached into the corset, his fingers kneading my breast beneath the satin lining, pulling my nipple free to peek above the black lace. “You are perfection, Sophie.”
I whimpered as he circled my nipple with his thumb. He swirled it over the peak, further puckering my skin and raising gooseflesh on my arms.
“I think you’re ready for your presents now,” he murmured against my neck. “Take this off. Leave the stockings and heels. I’ll be right back.”
He left me in the closet, moving off to somewhere in the bedroom. I unhooked the front of the corset and let it fall, frowning at the red indentations it had left on my skin. Ah well, if it didn’t bother him to leave red marks on my ass, it wouldn’t bother him to see my clothes leaving them everywhere else. I snickered at that, and from the doorway Neil asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “Just giddy with anticipation.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, his gaze dropping to my exposed breasts for a moment before he held up my present. Or, presents, plural, since he held an item in each hand. In his left, a broad, leather-covered paddle about the size of a small cutting board; in his right, an open jewelry box holding two long, tweezer-like clamps with delicate black beads dangling from them.