her shoulder blades. Warm threads of awareness started through her middle again. Again? She wanted him again.
She couldn’t possibly. New need building low in her belly argued her body wasn’t nearly as broken as she might think. She moaned and dropped her head to her arms.
No, she couldn’t take more. Physically or mentally. She liked his hands on her body but she was done in right now.
Then his firm fingers moved to her ass. Oh man. He seemed to know just how spent she was though. Gently, he worked the cream into the marks, unknowingly easing her desire. Was it crazy that she wanted him to take her to bed somewhere and press her into a firm mattress? Wouldn’t Keera have a field day with this? She’d say, “I told you so. And you doubted Madam Zelda?”
Okay, so she should have had more faith. How could she? She wasn’t really a tarot believer—not like her friend. Keera lived by the cards she’d inherited from her mother.
Her weak faith was growing fast, both in what Madam Zelda had said and in this man rubbing his hands down her thighs.
Silence fell between them, the only sound their breathing and sporadic groans from her as he occasionally touched spots already more sore than others. It wasn’t long before her body practically dissolved into jelly. If not for her increased awareness of this man, she could have slept he had her so relaxed. Overall she just felt good.
She couldn’t rouse the energy to move when he left her again. Again she heard water and she wondered if he wasn’t the cleanest Dom in the world. She smiled turning her head and watching him move. For a guy, he had a graceful manner about him. He 57
Brynn Paulin
really did move like a cat, his frame working in unison in a lazy assured roll as he walked.
The scarf tied around his head had hiked up a little in the back and short strands of hair peeked out. In the dim light she couldn’t tell if it was brown or black, just dark. She knew a ton of built dark-haired guys—she worked in construction for God’s sake. It could be anyone. She was swiftly coming to the conclusion that she knew this man. The familiarity about him…the things he said…how well he knew her. And why else would he be here if he wasn’t getting paid?
The realization that she must know him should have troubled her. It didn’t. She only hoped he’d introduce himself later, without the mask, and they could continue this in the bright light of real life. She wouldn’t push the issue now. Her brow furrowed when he turned toward her and her gaze dropped to his tattoos. Perhaps she didn’t know him after all. She couldn’t think of a man she knew who she hadn’t seen without a shirt or at least with sleeves short enough that they would have revealed the wide band on her dungeon master’s arm.
So she was back to square one.
“What do your tattoos signify?” she asked when he returned and sat beside her. She sat back on her heels, wrists at the small of her back and winced only slightly when her ass connected with her ankles. “They look like some sort of words.”
“Hmmm… well, in a way.”
He cleaned the inside of her thighs with the new cloth he’d brought, wiping away her sticky cream. The way he cared for her made her all shuddery inside. She looked into his mesmerizing eyes, enveloped in his intense gaze. Her lips parted.
She wanted him again. Her eyes dropped closed on a tiny moan as the warm cloth pressed to her folds. She heard the wet slap of the cloth on the cement as he tossed it away and he cupped the back of her head, pulling her to him. His mouth covered hers, feasting at her parted lips and sending tremors once again shooting through her. She lifted up at his urging, meeting him chest to chest and feeling his jutting erection 58
On Your Knees
against her belly. Being pressed to him, complying with his will like this, filled her empty spaces as nothing ever had. He tilted her head and drove his tongue in for more.
She sucked at it,
She couldn’t possibly. New need building low in her belly argued her body wasn’t nearly as broken as she might think. She moaned and dropped her head to her arms.
No, she couldn’t take more. Physically or mentally. She liked his hands on her body but she was done in right now.
Then his firm fingers moved to her ass. Oh man. He seemed to know just how spent she was though. Gently, he worked the cream into the marks, unknowingly easing her desire. Was it crazy that she wanted him to take her to bed somewhere and press her into a firm mattress? Wouldn’t Keera have a field day with this? She’d say, “I told you so. And you doubted Madam Zelda?”
Okay, so she should have had more faith. How could she? She wasn’t really a tarot believer—not like her friend. Keera lived by the cards she’d inherited from her mother.
Her weak faith was growing fast, both in what Madam Zelda had said and in this man rubbing his hands down her thighs.
Silence fell between them, the only sound their breathing and sporadic groans from her as he occasionally touched spots already more sore than others. It wasn’t long before her body practically dissolved into jelly. If not for her increased awareness of this man, she could have slept he had her so relaxed. Overall she just felt good.
She couldn’t rouse the energy to move when he left her again. Again she heard water and she wondered if he wasn’t the cleanest Dom in the world. She smiled turning her head and watching him move. For a guy, he had a graceful manner about him. He 57
Brynn Paulin
really did move like a cat, his frame working in unison in a lazy assured roll as he walked.
The scarf tied around his head had hiked up a little in the back and short strands of hair peeked out. In the dim light she couldn’t tell if it was brown or black, just dark. She knew a ton of built dark-haired guys—she worked in construction for God’s sake. It could be anyone. She was swiftly coming to the conclusion that she knew this man. The familiarity about him…the things he said…how well he knew her. And why else would he be here if he wasn’t getting paid?
The realization that she must know him should have troubled her. It didn’t. She only hoped he’d introduce himself later, without the mask, and they could continue this in the bright light of real life. She wouldn’t push the issue now. Her brow furrowed when he turned toward her and her gaze dropped to his tattoos. Perhaps she didn’t know him after all. She couldn’t think of a man she knew who she hadn’t seen without a shirt or at least with sleeves short enough that they would have revealed the wide band on her dungeon master’s arm.
So she was back to square one.
“What do your tattoos signify?” she asked when he returned and sat beside her. She sat back on her heels, wrists at the small of her back and winced only slightly when her ass connected with her ankles. “They look like some sort of words.”
“Hmmm… well, in a way.”
He cleaned the inside of her thighs with the new cloth he’d brought, wiping away her sticky cream. The way he cared for her made her all shuddery inside. She looked into his mesmerizing eyes, enveloped in his intense gaze. Her lips parted.
She wanted him again. Her eyes dropped closed on a tiny moan as the warm cloth pressed to her folds. She heard the wet slap of the cloth on the cement as he tossed it away and he cupped the back of her head, pulling her to him. His mouth covered hers, feasting at her parted lips and sending tremors once again shooting through her. She lifted up at his urging, meeting him chest to chest and feeling his jutting erection 58
On Your Knees
against her belly. Being pressed to him, complying with his will like this, filled her empty spaces as nothing ever had. He tilted her head and drove his tongue in for more.
She sucked at it,
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