“Is there a problem?”
“No, it’s just no one else is dancing.” Harper frowned.
“I didn’t ask them,” Logan said. He swallowed up her personal space in three steps. “You look beautiful when you dance. I want to show you off tonight. Now dance, Kitten.”
He took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest.
Harper put a strand of hair behind her ear, closed her eyes briefly, then with one sweeping motion, she stepped to the left and swayed her body. Her arms made a half-circle as she swooped down, her palms touching the floor, and swayed to the right, ending with her hands under her chin.
“Beautiful,” Logan said. He grabbed her arm his lips finding hers. He stroked her hair, his fingers trailing down to her hands. “This way,” he said.
As he walked over to the last play station, he nodded at fellow Doms and paused, watching his friend Soren tie a voluptuous woman to a post, at the station beside theirs.
“Do you like this?” he asked Harper, sliding his hand around her waist, and bringing her against his chest.
“Her expression is so peaceful,” she said, but he caught the hitch in her voice that told him it wasn’t for her. The sub was kneeling on the floor, her arms stretched out behind her, lashed to the post.
“My goal tonight is to put a similar expression on your face, Kitten,” Logan said. Against his chest, he felt her shiver and heard her breath catch. “Over here, and we’ll get started.”
He led her down the step. A medical table, with restraints, sat empty, a small stool on wheels and a counter behind them.
“Here we are.” He set his bag down on the counter.
“Logan—” Harper began.
“Kitten?” He took out a thin disposable painter’s plastic cloth, spread it on the medical table, then laid down a cotton sheet on top.
“Never mind,” Harper said.
“I want you to tell me if you are concerned about something. If something feels unsafe, or you have questions about it, talk to me. Tell me what you need. But I want you to trust me. I know restraints aren’t your thing, but I like this table and the soft lighting in this space. I want to make you into a wax-covered painting. What do you say?”
He watched as her eyes dilated, her tongue licked her lips. “Yes.”
He helped her onto the table, pleased at her response, thrilled that he had guessed correctly she’d be brave and explore wax play.
“Lie back,” he said. “Gorgeous, Kitten,” he said, running his hand along her neck, seeing her full breasts underneath the short-sleeved white button-down shirt.
From his bag, he took out a pocketknife and flipped it open.
“How far do you trust me, and how far can I push you? How much fun are we going to have while discovering those limits, challenging those boundaries?” He pressed the knife flat against the buttons on her shirt.
She smiled, her eyes wide.
“Do it, Logan.”
Damn, the sultriness in her voice caused his cock to twitch. He leaned over her, so close he could see where her mascara started on her long, thick eyelashes.
Slowly, he slid the knife under the buttons on her blouse, starting at her throat. Her hips jerked off the table as he pressed down with the knife, cutting the buttons off nice and easy.
“Just warming up,” Logan said, putting a hand on her side, reassuring her with his steady touch. “What’s with the bra?”
“I like it,” Harper said.
“I didn’t tell you to wear it.” Logan grinned. “Going to take you shopping.”
With a slight twist of the knife, he cut through the closure in the front. She gave a soft yelp and he smiled. He kneaded her breast, cupping his fingers around the fullness. His fingers pinched her nipple, eliciting a cry from Harper as she twisted on the table.
“Easy, Kitten,” he said, slapping her thigh lightly. “Now what do we do about this?” He slid the knife under the waistband of her skirt.
