She has no idea that her submissiveness is a siren call to the Dominants in the room. That subtle inward curl of her shoulders, the way she watches from beneath her eyelashes, desperately trying to remain off of anyone’s radar, has the opposite effect on people like me. Men and women alike watch her move through the house, eyes catching first on her body language, then lingering to take in the way that body moves so gracefully, each step a rhythmic call to the very base desires that make us who we are.
My cock hardens as I watch her. She’s the kind of woman who begs to be taken care of. It’s in the way her head bows when a Dom speaks to her. Hell, even when her girlfriend leans over to whisper in her ear, she remains demure and innocent.
In a boardroom or on the sidelines of a field, I’ve watched this woman command the attention of anyone lucky enough to be in her orbit, but here? Surrounded by sex and sin?
She’s delicate.
Sensual even in her innocence.
I have no idea how long I’ve stalked them when Sutton and her friend finally settle against the wall in my entertainment room. A moment passes while I consider revealing myself to her, but then the same young Dom from out front approaches them, leaning over to whisper something to Sutton.
My jaw clenches tightly. Do they know one another?
They sure seemed cozy outside.
The way she keeps her head slightly bowed as he speaks to her makes my cock twitch against its denim prison. She’s never shown me that level of deference.
I didn’t know how desperately I needed that until this very moment.
With a single fingertip pressed beneath her chin, the young Dom—Gates, I think his name is—lifts her head so she’ll meet his eyes. I tense, fingers gripped tightly around the edge of the marble countertop before me as I lean forward, straining to hear their whispered conversation even though doing so would be impossible from this distance.
“Dominus,” a woman says, startling me as she approaches from the long hallway to my right.
Gritting my teeth, I force my attention away from Sutton and that young Dom. One of the shibari masters from the Las Vegas location stands before me, her ropes wrapped beautifully up the length of each arm and dangling like the ribbons of a Maypole from her hands.
“You’re a difficult man to track down.” She grins, but when I don’t reply, she continues, “I was told that you requested updates about each demonstration. Mine will begin shortly.” She motions toward the living room and the open patio doors beyond. “In the pool house.”
I give her a curt nod. “Thank you. Good luck.” Returning my attention to Sutton—
“Will you be watching, Sir?”
My jaw clenches, but thankfully, any facial tells of my annoyance are hidden behind my mask. It’s not this woman’s fault that Sutton Hart has completely hijacked my night. “Of course.”
Her eyes light up and she ducks her head in gratitude, then looks up at me through thick black lashes. “Will you have time for me later, Sir?”
I grind my teeth together and shake my head. “Not tonight. My apologies.” It’s the best I can do. Sutton Hart isin my home, for fuck’s sake!
She nods as if hearing my unspoken words, then leaves me to return my attention to—
Fuck, where’d she go?
I scan the entertainment room for Sutton, but she’s nowhere to be found. I curse under my breath, then hurry down the hall, checking each area for her as I pass.
By the time I find her again, Sutton is alone in a back bedroom, standing off to the side and partially hidden by a large Ficus Nina gave me when I bought this place. I’ve been nurturing that thing since it was a seedling and now it’s nearly seven feet tall.
Following Sutton’s line of sight, I watch the scene unfolding before her. A young man hangs from a sex swing, legs spread wide. He’s blindfolded, with his hands strapped meticulously above his head. A woman in nothing but sky-high boots that lace up from her toes to her thighs walks slowly around him.
I can’t hear what the Domme is saying to the submissive, but I don’t need to. I’ve seen this scene unfold a dozen or more times.
So I return my gaze to Sutton, assuming that, unlike me, she’s seeing this for the very first time.
Are her cheeks flushing pink in that way they often do?
Is her throat glistening with a sheen of sweat?
She bites down on her bottom lip and I lick my own, wishing I could get closer to her, reach out and tug that full lip free so I can bite into it myself.
Sutton is a strong competitor, a woman who has struggled through caring for an ailing parent while acquiring a law degree, then combined that knowledge with her experience growing up with a football-obsessed father to create a standout sports agency. She’s a woman I admire, not just because she’s intelligent and beautiful, though she is both, but because she’s fierce. Strong. I don’t think most people would be able to tell by looking at her how heavy a burden she carries.
