"If he wasn't interested in any of that, but he still wanted to be with the two of you, could you make it work? Does it have to be Dom/sub twenty-four/seven?"
"No. Of course not. We're not twenty-four/seven. I mean, there are these little flirty undercurrents between Geoff and me a lot of the time, but when it's not about being in that mode, we're still doing the day-to-day things. Sharing chores, expenses, me dealing with my family, that kind of thing. So it doesn't have to be all or nothing. I want to be with them more than I think I've wanted anything before, and I'm willing to figure out whatever we need to figure out to make that work."
"Then that's all you need to worry about." Flo tapped her forehead in an amusing gesture of benediction. "Go forth, child, and have your way with their gorgeous asses as long as the fates allow."
She laughed, ducking as Sam threw a crumpled napkin at her. "Come on. Lunch is over, Ms. Assistant Manager. Back to the scintillating world of financial management."
***
The night they were going to the Carnival, Sam's intention was to close herself in the bathroom and make a grand appearance in the gifts they'd given her, but she soon realized her best intentions were not going to give her the ability to put herself in a corset.
Poking her head out of the bathroom, she glimpsed Chris in his room. He'd finished his shower but was stil
l shirtless, because he was putting on deodorant. He wore a pair of dress jeans open in the front, the belt unbuckled. As he applied the deodorant, he bent and used his elbow to bump up the volume on the Temptations playing through his speakers. When he put down the capped deodorant and ran a hand through his still-damp hair, she realized she was just watching. Enjoying the hell out of one of her men, just like Flo said. She finally cleared her throat and Chris turned, lowering the volume. He gave her an equally appreciative look, since she was clad only in her thin robe, loosely tied.
"I think I need some help," she said. "Want to try tying a corset?"
"I looked it up on the Internet last night, so I can probably figure it out."
She blinked. "Of course you did. Why did you do that?"
"Well, when we bought the corset from Naughty Bits, Madison mentioned how much a lot of women liked the feeling of being tied into a corset. Especially in the case of someone like you . . . by her Master." He shifted when he said that, as if he wasn't sure if she'd be comfortable hearing it that way, but he was right on target.
"She's a smart woman. And I have two Masters. You just happen to be the one in the right place at the right time."
He grinned. Fastening his pants and buckling the belt, he came across the hallway to her, stepping into the bathroom as she retreated to the sink. His hair still had that damp clean smell and the jeans were the distressed, designer kind that looked really good on him. It wouldn't be a hardship to reconcile herself to that look tonight, if he decided against putting on the pants Geoff had given him once they arrived there.
She bet he'd tried them on in his room this week when she and Geoff couldn't see. Which meant he probably had experienced another What the fuck? moment and was waffling on whether he'd have the courage to wear them. She was hoping he would and made a mental note to be sure he didn't leave them at home "by accident."
She didn't think he'd resort to that, though. She'd mentioned them several times this week, making it clear she would love, love, love it if he wore them. As Geoff had pointed out, neither of them could really resist doing something she truly wanted. She didn't view her pressure on him to wear them as an abuse of that power, though. Far from it. Especially since she suspected Geoff actually approved of the tactic this time.
She hid a smile at that thought, but then humor gave way to other distractions as Chris stepped up behind her. Without asking or hesitation, he unbelted her robe and slid it from her shoulders, leaving her clothed in nothing but a silver-gray thong and his regard, which roved over her with purposed pleasure. She wondered if he'd been taking lessons from Geoff, or if he was just learning to follow his own inclinations, encouraged by her obvious response to such decisive action.
She let out a pleased hum when he cupped a breast and slid his hand down to her hip, hooking the thong with his thumb before he caressed her ass and leaned over to pick up the corset.
It hooked in the front on steel pins and was already drawn snug enough he could hook it down the front and it would stay in place, though it wasn't yet tight enough to shape her properly. She bent her head, watching his capable fingers move over the hooks, then he shifted behind her again, making her face the mirror as he started adjusting the laces. Watching his intent expression, the set of his mouth and focus of his eyes while he did it, inhaling his scent, feeling his heat so close behind her as he bound her in the snug garment, kept her feeling all tingly and anxious in the right ways.
As he figured out what he was doing, anxiety was replaced with arousal, a sweet little surge of it with each pull of the laces. The boning began to etch out her waist and the flare of her hips like an hourglass, her breasts rising over the top edge. The firm mounding drew his eyes as he tied it off in back. He smoothed his large palms over her.
"Too tight?" he asked.
Yes. "No." He could cut off her breathing and she'd just ask for more. She loved how it felt. When Chris grasped her buttock with one hand, the other resting on the stiff fabric at her hip, she swayed into his touch. It wasn't just the way he'd taken off her robe, but everything he was doing. There was something different about him tonight. Quieter, more direct. In control.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her bare shoulder as his hand slid back up to frame her breast, thumb rubbing over the plumped-up curve and dipping into the now deep valley of her bosom. "No, what?" he murmured. His lashes lifted to capture her gaze in the mirror with his own. He held her there with an unwavering attention.
Who was this man and what had he done with Chris? Yet it was Chris, not an act. That was what had butterflies doing triple somersaults in her stomach. "Yes sir. I mean, No sir."
He smiled, reached over and picked up her hairbrush. She quivered, wondering if she was about to get a spanking. While that would have been lovely, he surprised her with something as unexpectedly welcome. He used it as intended, brushing out her hair until it shone like silk on her shoulders. Gathering it up in his hand, he rubbed his lips and nose over it. Closed his eyes. All of it made her want to breathe his name. Meaning she wanted to use his name as a way to draw in breath and release it. As well as speak it.
"Chris."
He opened his eyes again. "Bend over the sink," he said.
Her knees almost buckled, but she managed it. He curved a hand over her right breast, kneading and playing with it, and he hit her ass with the flat back of the brush. Her fingers tightened on the sink as that breath left her in a gasp. It stung, but she only wanted more.
He gave her more. Five then ten whacks, each more stinging than the last, until her ass was throbbing and she was making a little cry in her throat at each strike. She was also getting light-headed.
"Nice marks," he said. Laying down the brush, he straightened her, holding her fast and meeting her gaze in the mirror. "I'm going to ask you again. Is it too tight?"