Page 34 of At His Beck & Call

I can’t help the little snort that breaks free, but I try to smother it.

“You really don’t think so?” he asks, his eyes hardening slightly.Does he actually look offended?“Youarebeautiful, and you should be kinder to yourself.”

My throat constricts at the sincerity in those words. No one has ever called me beautiful before, or if James ever did, I’ve forgotten. Bethany does all the time, of course, but it’s not the same.

I meet his gaze, my lips twisting. “I’ll try.”

“Good girl.”

I huff out a breath of relief, and Oliver’s whole body stiffens, his lips curving up into that ghost of a smile I saw before.

“There are several objects around the room for us to play with. I’d like you to pick one for me to put inside you.”

My cheeks flush all over again, and he pushes off the desk. “Have a look around.”

I turn, feeling beyond awkward to be walking around the room naked while he watches me, but also strangely thrilled by it.

I go to the bookcases, looking along the shelves, and see several similar objects to the one he used yesterday. All of them are standing on their end and could be mistaken for minimalistic knick-knacks. But I know better.

My eyes flick over them, assessing their width and length, nervous suddenly. The one Oliver used yesterday was very small.

Will my body be able to handle anything larger?

As I walk around, I realize he’s removed the one we used yesterday. These are all larger and wider, and some of them splay out at the base at an alarming angle. Eventually, I find one that’s a cylinder with a pointed end. About four inches or so in length.

Jesus Christ, that’ll have to do.

I stop, and without me saying a word, he seems to sense that I’ve made my decision.

“Go to the chaise,” he says, and I turn, confused for a moment, until I see a new piece of furniture in the room. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there yesterday, and I wonder when it could have been delivered today.

It’s a deep, dark red, undulating shape that looks like the strangest chaise lounge I’ve ever seen.

I walk to it.

“Lie down.”

One of the cushions in the center is detachable, and I place it on the floor. Once my ass is balanced, I finally figure out what this chair is for.

It’s just like the ornaments, ordinary to the naked eye but with a hidden sexual purpose. My heart flutters when I notice discreet fabric harnesses on either side of it.

I settle down, my legs elevated above me, my ass lower than my knees, leaning back in a reclining position as Oliver walks over to me.

He has a tube of lube in his hand and is smoothing a thin layer of it over the toy I chose. The slick sound of his fingers on the metal sends a little shiver through me.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod. He fixes me with a stare.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.”

Again, there’s a release with those words, as if something loosens inside me. He comes to stand at the end of the chair. My legs are crossed together, awkward and unnatural. I wish I were more sensual like Bethany, exuding confidence. Instead, I feel as if my body is made of hard lines and edges that won’t cooperate.

“Would you like to be face up or on all fours?” he asks casually, like he’s asking me whether I want coffee or tea.

As I look into his eyes, I think of the intensity of his gaze while he pushed the toy inside me the day before. It was too much and somehow not enough.

“Uh, all fours?” I say, still unsure if that’s the right decision, but the less I look into this man’s eyes, the better.