“When she returned to join the new class that started two days ago, I assumed she just wanted to observe, and we didn’t question or push her to join the discussion,” Tyrone said. “Just now, when I asked for volunteers for a short practicum, she calmly stood and walked up to the stage without a word. Saint was visiting and asked us not to do anything until you arrived.” Tyrone’s eyes on the stage, he rubbed his jaw. “If you’re comfortable for me...” he trailed off as his gaze returned to me, seeking permission.
My thoughts on a whirlwind of uncertainty, I glanced back at Mikaela. How many nights had I lain awake wondering if I’d ever bring her out of her wariness, her distrust? Yet never to this extent. I never wanted to introduce her to something she might reject or make her retract into fear. Her disappearance every day now made sense.
Still, I had to make sure. “Give me a second?” He nodded. My steps slow, I neared the stage, climbed the stairs and dropped to my haunches in front of her. “Ella?” I slid a finger under her chin and lifted until her eyes met mine. “What are you doing, love?”
Her pink lips parted in a soft smile. “Show me, sir.”
I hissed in air through my teeth. Her words rang in my ears, pounding in my heart. Every employee in my household used that title so often, it meant nothing more than respect. Why did it sound so much more profound, sexier, and pleasing falling from her lips? Even though my body tightened with a need I questioned, I reined it in.
“Ella,” I sighed out her name. “This lifestyle is not for—”
“I know no other,” she whispered. “I want to learn not to be afraid.”
The sincerity in her eyes squeezed my heart in a vice. I’d already lost it to this beautiful woman that night on the mountaintop. Now, I was at the risk of handing over my soul to her too. “Did you understand the class?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s what you want?” She nodded. “Including the pain?” I asked, not taking any chances.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for Tyrone?” Despite her nod, reservation still hounded me. I negated her question at the ball, believing she’d be better as an observer, not an active participant. Still, I’d felt her fear with the simplest of acts. The whip, more so. I understood why after that video. Her resistance to accept something this difficult might hamper her progress to step out of her shell.
“Ella...” I began, but the determination on her face gave me pause.
“Let me,” she murmured, asking permission without sounding scared.
With a nod, I stood and gestured for Tyrone to join me as Mikaela lowered her eyes to the floor again. “You sure you can handle this?” I whispered when he reached me.
He paused. “Yes, sir. I’ll go easy.” About to walk off, I stopped him with a hand on his arm and leaned closer. “Don’t ask her to undress.” I saw the confusion in his eyes before his nod.
I understood his bewilderment. It was a request we never allowed in these classes. All students were treated equally, and whatever the Dom commanded, they agreed. At the first sign of refusal, they were told to sit.
For Mikaela, though, the eyes of everyone in this room would serve as a mirror to the agony she carried. Until she was ready to see her naked body, I wouldn’t allow her to see her reflection in their expressions.
Taking a seat, I watched Tyrone go through the motions of allowing her to embrace the sound of his voice, offer her safe words then ask if she was uncomfortable with anything. Through it all, she remained calm. So did I.
However, only when he asked her to worship his cock, did my concentration waver. I gritted my teeth, trying to keep calm, and shifted my gaze to find Juliette’s eyes on me. My thoughts drifted back to that conversation we had the day she brought Mark to see Mikaela.
Now, her expression was urging me to stop this. Without me voicing it aloud, she knew that watching another man touch Mikaela would kill me. Still, I reined in my annoyance, balled my fists, and kept my gaze riveted on the stage.
Mikaela ran her hands the length of Tyrone’s legs, from ankle to crotch, then, with delicate fingers, she eased down his boxers. I heard her choked gasp as his cock sprang free from its confines.
The first red flag.
I should’ve stopped her. I didn’t.
Whether it was fear or uncertainty, her hands dropped to her lap, her head turned, and her gaze sought mine, something Tyrone wouldn’t have allowed with the others.
“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath. She was asking for permission.
I couldn’t give it.
Selfishly I’d laid claim to her—mine in no uncertain terms. But she wanted this. She begged for it. I had to allow it, allow her to find the strength she sought.
Tyrone noticed my falter. “Eyes on me, pet,” he commanded, aware I trusted his direction. Mikaela shifted her gaze back to him. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and she did as he asked. Tyrone pulled up his boxers, changing the scene. Not unusual, but I knew he was looking for triggers. He picked up a riding crop and smacked it against his palm repeatedly.
Mikaela flinched.
