The warm, spicy scent of him—his Bonding Scent, she was sure of it now—began to permeate the cloth-scented air. Cinnamon, leather, and some dark, masculine spice she couldn’t name but absolutely loved. It wrapped around her, pulling at something deep in her belly…and clouding her judgment.
“I’ll measure him,” she heard herself say, her voice surprisingly steady. “Just, uh, show me how.”
“Like this.” The Mistress bustled to a table and returned with a device.
It was a slender band of cool, flexible silver metal, meant to be worn across the palm and back of the hand. Tiny, pinprick lights glowed along its surface, and a small, crystalline screen was embedded in the band that would rest against her wrist.
“This is a somato-scanner,” the Mistress of the Wardrobe said. “Slip it on and just hold your husband’s shaft in the hand wearing the device and stroke him up and down to get his measurements. The scanner needs skin contact. Be certain you touch every bit of it—the head, the underside, and that fascinating knot at the base. The more surface area mapped, the more accurate I can be with my complementary devices.”
Kaitlyn took the device and found it was lighter than it looked. She fumbled it onto her right hand and the metal band molded snugly to her skin. The crystal screen flickered to life, showing a rotating, wire-frame model of a generic phallus.
She turned to Braze. He was looking down at her, his golden eyes blazing. He didn’t speak…didn’t nod. He just held her gaze, his breath coming slow and deep. His Bonding scent intensified until it almost became a physical presence in the room.
Swallowing hard, Kaitlyn reached out…and closed her fingers around him.
Her first impression was of his heat—he was unbelievably, solidly hot—like steel left in the sun. His skin was smooth as velvet over an iron-hard core. A jolt went through her, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. The wire-frame model on her wrist-screen began to shift, pixels calculating.
Tentatively, she stroked upward, her palm sliding over the broad, plum-shaped head, slick with his pre-cum. The scanner lights blinked. She explored the flared ridge, then moved down the thick, heavy shaft. Her fingers couldn’t quite meet around his girth.
Kaitlyn bit her lip—God, he was huge. How could he ever fit this thing into anyone? Even with the opening compounds his body supposedly made, his equipment seemed much too big to fit.
She tried to push the thought out of her head and focus on the task of mapping his throbbing length and then the heavy balls beneath.
When she cupped them, he inhaled—a deep, unsteady breath.
“Sorry,” Kaitlyn murmured. “I’ll be gentle.”
Braze locked eyes with her.
“It’s all right, Mistress,” he rumbled. “I trust you.”
Kaitlyn felt as though her heart had skipped a beat. He trusted her…that felt good. Usually on missions he was the one protecting her physically…it was interesting to have their roles reversed and be the one who was in charge.
She cradled him gently, cupping his balls and rolling them carefully in her palm. Then she went back to the shaft and began stroking again. When she reached the base, her breath caught in her throat.
His knot. It was so big and hard and even warmer than the shaft. She cupped it in her palm, feeling its potential size and the way it swelled even as she touched it. The scanner whirred softly as it measured him.
Kaitlyn felt almost mesmerized…she couldn’t stop. She was stroking him now—really stroking him, up and down—her grip firming as instinct took over. She was fascinated by the sheer, brutal masculinity of him…he was so big and fierce and yet she literally held him in the palm of her hand.
The room seemed to fade around them until there was only his heat in her hand…his scent in her lungs…and the aching wetness building between her own legs.
Until suddenly a strangled, guttural noise broke the silence.
“Mistress,” Braze gritted out, the word strained—torn from somewhere deep inside him. “Please—no more. Lest I shame myself.”
Oh God—she was about to make him come! Right here—in front of the Mistress of the Wardrobe. The thought was forbidden—scandalous—and it sent a bolt of pure, wet heat straight to the place between her thighs.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she gasped, snatching her hand back as if she’d been burned.
Braze said nothing but his chest was rising and falling like a bellows. Clearly, he was struggling to master himself.
Kaitlyn was equal parts intrigued and ashamed. She’d never touched her Protector so intimately before…and she was surprised at how much she liked it. The sudden absence of his heat felt like a loss and her palm tingled.
The measurement had been successful, though—the screen on the scanner showed a perfect, detailed 3D model of Braze’s erect shaft and sac, complete with volumetric measurements blinking beside it.
With trembling fingers, Kaitlyn stripped the device off and handed it back to the Mistress of the Wardrobe. Her skin felt hypersensitive where the device had touched her.
“Very good—excellent measurements,” the Mistress said approvingly, taking the scanner and studying the readout. “My, my. Quite the specimen. Now, we know what we’re working with.” She tapped the screen, then frowned thoughtfully. “At least, for the erect harness. I might need different imaging for his cage.”
