Constance didn’t hear any more because she had to look away from him. The room was a wonderland. It was a huge open space, larger than most people’s apartments. Much larger than the military housing she’d grown up in. Everything was big in scale--the sofas, the furniture. A wide archway framed a sleeping space with an inviting, curtained bed. There was a massive closet. Overkill really, since she’d only brought one suitcase of clothes. There were cushions on the floor, cushions on the chairs, cushions piled on the bed. There were vases of flowers on the side tables and dressers, and beautiful tree-sized potted plants. A large desk graced one corner of the room. Stacks of notebooks were arranged next to a cup of pens.
And everything--everything--was vividly, brightly colored.
She turned back to Kai and Ms. Dresden to find them talking. They faced one another so she couldn’t listen. From Ms. Dresden’s gestures she gathered they were talking about the room. They turned to her and she was sure she wore the goofiest smile in the history of smiling.
“I want to jump on the bed.”
She watched Kai to see if he understood her signing. She tried again, slower. “Jump.” She pointed. “Bed.”
“Oh, jump on the bed,” he said. “Be my guest.”
She took off the high heeled pumps she was unaccustomed to wearing, and did a flying leap. She sank into a fluffy embroidered counterpane while cushions and pillows spilled around her. She hunched herself to her feet and jumped a few times, ducking the filmy orange canopy over her head. Ms. Dresden cocked her head to one side and signed, “Not very dignified.”
Constance laughed and collapsed down on the pillows. She looked at Kai and saw approval, and something else that made a pulse start to thrum in her veins. Male hunger. She could read it on his face like the title of a book.
This would be their book. This was the first page. Ms. Dresden silently left the room and shut the door behind her.
He walked toward the bed with a seductive smile. She’d forgotten how large and imposing he was. “You’re a long way from home, little odalisque.”
He didn’t bother to sign; she was staring right at him, at his handsome face, his full sexy lips. She laid back on the cushions, running her fingertips over the embroidery and lace. This was the life of an odalisque. He was her Master, and she craved to please him more than she’d expected to. He stopped beside the bed and she signed, slowly, so he could decode it, “This is my home now.”
He looked pleased by that. “You like it?”
She knew he was talking about the room, but she was thinking about him. “Yes, I like it. It’s beautiful.” You’re beautiful. Let me serve you. Her fingers went to the buttons of her jacket. She meant to undress, a slow seductive striptease, peeling away layers until she was as she should be: nude and open to his gaze.
But her new owner had other ideas. He fell on her and undressed her himself, with a rash impatience that thrilled her. He tossed her jacket over the headboard, undid her blouse’s buttons and pushed the front open to reveal a sheer bra. He toyed with it a moment before clicking open the front clasp to fondle her breasts. His fingertips felt so rough--a curt, demanding touch that made her feel instantly submissive to him.
He pushed her fitted skirt up to her hips and hooked a finger in the elastic of her garter belt. She wasn’t wearing panties. He traced the top of her stockings and then slid his fingers down her pussy cleft. She arched, opening herself to his skilled probing. His lips were at her neck, her shoulders, nibbling on her clavicle. He was clean-shaven but still his cheek felt rough against her skin.
He smelled divine.
Aftershave, soap, and his own natural smell. She twined her fingers in his hair and felt the jerky movements of his hands pulling at his pants. She ached for him, needed him to fill her. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d dreamed of having someday when she’d begun her training at Maison Odalisque. She was with a handsome, strong man in a beautifully furnished home on a blissfully cozy bed.
He pushed inside her, spreading her open for his possession, and consolidated her dreams into reality. His cock within her was hard, unyielding. Hot acute friction, with no latex barrier needed between them now. She clamped her legs around him and grasped his ass cheeks, feeling them clench and unclench through the fabric of his pants as he moved in and out of her. She almost closed her eyes, let herself be borne away merely on sensation.
But no, she was too curious. She wanted to see her Master. As he arched over her, she stared at his muscular arms braced on either side of her, his lightly furred chest bearing down on her. She watched him open his mouth over one breast and then the other, making her shudder with hot licks of pleasure. She felt his breath against her skin and looked up to meet his gaze.
His eyes were fixed on hers, communicating deep, overpowering desire. They were magnificent, a light amber-gold color she was certain she’d never encountered before--and she remembered people’s eyes. The way he looked at her stimulated her as much as his thick cock between her legs. The hint of a smile played across his lips. He was happy.
Kai, Kai, Kai, Kai... She knew his name in her head, felt it on her tongue, although she was too embarrassed to attempt to say it. She’d practiced it in her room the last month, touching her lips, trying to form the right sounds, which wasn’t easy when you couldn’t hear them. She touched him now, utterly fascinated with the feel of his skin, the hardness of his body. His cock stroked her in the perfect spot, with the perfect rhythm. She was suffused by pleasure and enthralled by his confident possession of her. She had worried a little, that things might be awkward when she arrived here. Or that, God, he might change his mind about wanting her.
But he seemed very pleased to have her. His movements were controlled and yet some thread of wildness snaked and grew between them. He squeezed her breasts, hurting her, making her moan and arch toward him for more of the shocking ache. She ground her clit against the wiry hair at the base of his cock, sparking singing sensation. Ironic, that her independence would come to her through this subjugation. Through being his. His to use, his to possess. More ironic still that she basked in every moment of it.
She gasped for breath and clung to him, thrusting wildly in answer to his own roughness. She tensed her thighs just at the edge of the precipice, and then tumbled into orgasm in a shattering rush. Pleasure washed over her, rendering her helpless. He dug his knees into the bed and bore her down, down, down, impaling her without mercy. She could feel him clutching the fabric of her skirt, not letting her move one centimeter beneath him. He shuddered over her and came to rest, his hands moving up to her shoulders. He pressed his face against hers and lai
d still, his cock pulsing inside her.
Kai. She almost whispered it, but words had such power. Be on guard. A moment later he pulled away, lounged back to rest on the pillows beside her. From the sudden rise and fall of his chest, she thought perhaps he sighed. He licked his lips and looked over at her with an expression she couldn’t place, and then he kissed her so she couldn’t keep thinking about it. When he pulled away, he ran his long, tapered fingers over the buttons of her blouse.
“So...do the clothes come off now?”
“Whatever you want,” she signed. “Always.”
“Except on your day off. When is your day off?”
She shrugged and signed again. “Whichever day you prefer.”
“So I’m in charge from here on out. Is that what you’re saying?”
Her gaze left his lips to meet his eyes and smile. She knew he didn’t really expect an answer. He dipped his head and kissed her again, undressing her slowly, taking a while to stroke and trace her stockings before he finally drew them off. He gathered her close then, so close. She basked in his warmth, his gentleness, his leashed strength and the comforting breadth of his chest. He tipped her face up to his.
“I can hardly believe you’re finally here.”
My God, his eyes. They were like the earth and sea in one. Constance wanted to snuggle with him, skin to skin. She wanted him to fuck her again, to take her with the same raw need he’d just shown. She reached for his shirt, wishing to pull it off him, but he stilled her hands.
“Not now. She’s still out there, isn’t she? Your overmistress? I don’t even know her name.”
Constance spelled it out for him, twice, because she spelled too fast the first time.