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Authors: Delphine Dryden
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experience a moment of stage fright that froze me with only my stomach exposed.
He was standing there, watching. Not saying anything. Not helping. Just watching. He still had one hand on my hip, and his fingers were tracking along my waistband, but other than that he was a blank.
And right then I decided that my new goal was to replace that blank with something. Anything. Any expression. I wanted to see him feeling things. I wanted to see him have feelings so strong he couldn’t hide from them. Couldn’t control his reactions. I wanted to make Ivan Reynolds completely lose his shit. Barring that, I would settle for Ivan making me completely lose my shit, which seemed a lot more likely.
I think he was maybe a little startled when I pushed his hand out of the way and moved a few steps toward the center of the room. He let his arm fall to the side as my shirt and bra dropped to the floor, followed within seconds by my shoes and pants. I was able to scoop off my undies too, getting the whole thing in one go. Not the most graceful undressing I’d ever done, to be sure, but it was practical. And I was naked. In the middle of the astrophysics data lab, kneeling in front of a still fully clothed Ivan.
Of all the possible outcomes I might have predicted for our little field trip, this was not one of them. Not in my wildest dreams. But I was beginning to think my dreams had not been nearly wild enough.
Chapter Five
If Ivan was surprised that I’d not only agreed but shucked all my clothes off in the middle of his deserted workplace, he hid it well. The impassive mask stayed in place, and as the cold of the room started to seep into my skin I could feel my body flirting with panic.
He took a step back and then circled me slowly, seeming to consider me from all angles. I straightened my spine automatically, pulled in my stomach, and forced my hands to unclench from where I was leaving fingernail marks on my bare thighs.
“Have you ever done anything like this before, Camilla?”
He was standing right behind me, but when I turned my head to look at him, he spanned the top of my skull with one hand and gently turned me back to the front. Even that touch, short and efficient and nowhere near an erogenous zone, made me yearn for more.
“No, I haven’t, Professor.”
It sounded like he was pacing back there, in the narrow space between me and the wall. I kept my eyes straight in front of me, trying to count all the many LEDs in my field of vision. Green, blue, red, they winked from the bases of monitors and power strips, from the DVD player and TV in one corner of the room, indicating the readiness of all these machines to be turned on and used. I felt a certain kinship.
He cleared his throat very pointedly before speaking again, and I grinned. He was putting his learning into practice, even now. “Have you ever heard of a safeword?”
I shook my head. I had no idea. But that was all right, because he explained it.
“A safeword is what you say if you want to stop. If something is too much for you to handle. It’s a get-out-of-jail-free card, and if you use it, everything stops. If we’re going to do this, you’ll need to choose one. Something you aren’t likely to say accidentally in the, ah, throes of passion.”
“Are there going to be throes of passion?”
“Oh yes, Camilla. You can count on that. If you can’t think of a word, for now you can just say red. Or red light. Red means stop. You understand?”
His pleasant baritone voice had grown even deeper, almost hypnotic. He spoke slowly and carefully, enunciating very clearly, sounding very patient but very much as though he had a clear destination and meant to get there on schedule. It was like listening to the hottest lecture ever.
“I understand, Professor,” I said after a moment. “Does that mean you’re into S and M?”
“I’m not a sadist, no. But there are other reasons to mix pain and pleasure. Have you ever been beaten in an erotic
He was standing there, watching. Not saying anything. Not helping. Just watching. He still had one hand on my hip, and his fingers were tracking along my waistband, but other than that he was a blank.
And right then I decided that my new goal was to replace that blank with something. Anything. Any expression. I wanted to see him feeling things. I wanted to see him have feelings so strong he couldn’t hide from them. Couldn’t control his reactions. I wanted to make Ivan Reynolds completely lose his shit. Barring that, I would settle for Ivan making me completely lose my shit, which seemed a lot more likely.
I think he was maybe a little startled when I pushed his hand out of the way and moved a few steps toward the center of the room. He let his arm fall to the side as my shirt and bra dropped to the floor, followed within seconds by my shoes and pants. I was able to scoop off my undies too, getting the whole thing in one go. Not the most graceful undressing I’d ever done, to be sure, but it was practical. And I was naked. In the middle of the astrophysics data lab, kneeling in front of a still fully clothed Ivan.
Of all the possible outcomes I might have predicted for our little field trip, this was not one of them. Not in my wildest dreams. But I was beginning to think my dreams had not been nearly wild enough.
Chapter Five
If Ivan was surprised that I’d not only agreed but shucked all my clothes off in the middle of his deserted workplace, he hid it well. The impassive mask stayed in place, and as the cold of the room started to seep into my skin I could feel my body flirting with panic.
He took a step back and then circled me slowly, seeming to consider me from all angles. I straightened my spine automatically, pulled in my stomach, and forced my hands to unclench from where I was leaving fingernail marks on my bare thighs.
“Have you ever done anything like this before, Camilla?”
He was standing right behind me, but when I turned my head to look at him, he spanned the top of my skull with one hand and gently turned me back to the front. Even that touch, short and efficient and nowhere near an erogenous zone, made me yearn for more.
“No, I haven’t, Professor.”
It sounded like he was pacing back there, in the narrow space between me and the wall. I kept my eyes straight in front of me, trying to count all the many LEDs in my field of vision. Green, blue, red, they winked from the bases of monitors and power strips, from the DVD player and TV in one corner of the room, indicating the readiness of all these machines to be turned on and used. I felt a certain kinship.
He cleared his throat very pointedly before speaking again, and I grinned. He was putting his learning into practice, even now. “Have you ever heard of a safeword?”
I shook my head. I had no idea. But that was all right, because he explained it.
“A safeword is what you say if you want to stop. If something is too much for you to handle. It’s a get-out-of-jail-free card, and if you use it, everything stops. If we’re going to do this, you’ll need to choose one. Something you aren’t likely to say accidentally in the, ah, throes of passion.”
“Are there going to be throes of passion?”
“Oh yes, Camilla. You can count on that. If you can’t think of a word, for now you can just say red. Or red light. Red means stop. You understand?”
His pleasant baritone voice had grown even deeper, almost hypnotic. He spoke slowly and carefully, enunciating very clearly, sounding very patient but very much as though he had a clear destination and meant to get there on schedule. It was like listening to the hottest lecture ever.
“I understand, Professor,” I said after a moment. “Does that mean you’re into S and M?”
“I’m not a sadist, no. But there are other reasons to mix pain and pleasure. Have you ever been beaten in an erotic