The Bride (The Boss 3)

“From a well-trained sub, I would expect the only response would be to obey my command.” His lips quirked, hinting at his amusement. “But you could say ‘Yes, Sir,’ as your Chloe does.”

That felt intimately wrong. “No, I couldn’t do that. Can we find another word?”

He leaned down, his lips a millimeter from mine, his breath teasing me until it felt as though he would steal my own. “You could call me… Monsieur. It is fitting, is it not? Since we met in Paris?”

“Oui, Monsieur.” Oh, he was very, very good. It was a struggle to tell the difference between my nerves and my anticipation now. He touched my shoulder, and I jumped.

“Relax.” His strong hand glided down my arm, then back to my neck.

How many times had I ordered Sophie to do the very same thing? I’d thought that my experiences as a Dom would make submission easy. I knelt there, the carpet biting into my shins, my skin chilled, even the rise of my chest with my deliberately slow breaths seeming as though I were moving too much. I hadn’t a clue how difficult truly submitting would be.

Sophie had been correct; this entire experience terrified me.

Emir said nothing, asked nothing of me, for what seemed an eternity. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, occasionally closing my eyes to try and retain my focus on what I was meant to be doing. When he gave me another command, gently voiced though it was, I flinched.

“Clasp your arms at the small of your back.”

I wasn’t sure I knew what my arms were, anymore. I’d been to Bikram yoga classes that were less physically and mentally challenging than simply kneeling there, waiting for instruction.

Somehow, I managed to get my hands behind me, my clammy palms gripping my wrists. With my shoulders back and my chest raised, I felt even more vulnerable than before.

Emir stepped in front of me, idly toying with his zipper in the space between us. I wanted to look down, to see if he would unzip, but it seemed like something I shouldn’t do without an invitation.

He reached out, trailing his fingers down my cheek to cup my chin and lift my face up to meet his gaze. It was more uncomfortable than I would have imagined, being in such a, well, a submissive position. Was this what appealed to Sophie and the other partners I’d been with?

As quickly as my mind began to stray, the thoughts evaporated, lost under my responsibility to stay where I was and await instruction.

Beneath the tenderness in his gaze, I recognized a spark of the Dom. The same perverted, mean edge that was so funny and enjoyable to me when I was in charge. It was exciting, seeing it from this perspective, and comfortingly familiar. You and he are just alike, it promised me. There’s no real danger here.

I’d never felt that with Stephen.

When it seemed the silence and the waiting would be too much, Emir pulled his hand back and unzipped his jeans. “Would you like to suck my cock?”

My breath stalled, longing building painfully in my chest as he pulled himself free. Emir had a penis that was really, objectively, beautiful. In length and girth, he was above average, but not ridiculously so, as I’m sometimes embarrassed of being. His skin was smooth, and although I preferred uncircumcised men, he was exquisitely shaped.

Would I like to suck his cock? What a needless question with a painfully obvious answer.

I watched, my mouth dry from anticipation, as Emir took one of the condoms and tore open the packet. He took his time inspecting it, as though he were considering a diamond he was about to purchase. Then, with the same intent focus, he clicked open the top of the lube bottle and added a few small drops to the inside of the condom, before rolling it on. He smoothed it down with a firm hand, and my fingers ached to touch him.

I leaned forward, reaching out to steady myself against his knees, and he pushed my hands away.

“Arms behind your back, and I asked you a question,” he admonished. “Follow the rules.”

“Oui, Monsieur.” I liked that phrase; it was apology and submission together, like one of Sophie’s whimpered Yes, Sirs. I was proud of myself that I was capable of it. I added, “I would love to suck your cock.”

Emir sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned me closer. It was awkward, shuffling toward him on my knees, but that was the point. I wondered if Sophie could see all the strings in the puppet show when we were doing a scene, or if it was merely that I’d had so much experience being the puppeteer.

“No hands,” Emir said, slowly stroking the length of his erection. “You may only use your mouth.”

I looked down at his cock, wondering how in the hell I was going to perform oral sex without touching him. I’d like to think I give very good head, but it’s a combination of stroking with the hand as well as the pressure of lips and a purposeful tongue. This would interfere with my technique. I glanced up at him, hoping he could read my preemptive apology in my expression, wetted my lips and leaned down.

To my relief, Emir took himself in his hand and helped me meet him; I pulled the wide tip into my mouth and almost groaned in relief, my own cock twitching as I imagined how Emir felt. His hiss of indrawn breath painted those imaginings with sharper clarity, and his other hand fell to the back of my head. I didn’t slip further down, but took my time swirling the loose, lubricated latex with my tongue. Quite considerately, he’d used a flavored condom, and the strawberry taste helped mask the rubber.

I tilted my head to slide my lips and tongue down the underside of his shaft, teased at the apex where the two curves of the rolled edge of his glans met. I tapped my tongue down the straining ridge there, and sucked, drawing the condom back and forth over the sensitive area.

I stole a glance at his face, and found his eyes closed, a small vertical crease between his eyebrows as they drew together. The sight of him enjoying my work sent my arousal into the red; I was painfully hard, and I knew my release wouldn’t come soon.

Lifting my head, I took him into my mouth fully, as much as I could manage. I don’t have my girlfriend’s particular talents where the act is concerned, but I did get about half of him in before he hit my soft palate, and I gagged slightly.