Chapter 16

16

Leah

“ Y es, Sir.”

He cups the side of my face. “You look lovely, but you also look tired.”

“I am, a little.”

Spending the night in Dmitri’s bed was a mistake. The sheets, the pillows, everything smelled so good. I ended up getting terrible sleep.

His voice is laced with concern. “Would it be better to reschedule our lesson?”

“No, I want this, Sir. I need it.”

“All right. One of the foundations with BDSM, as with any relationship or exchange, is communication. As a Dom, it’s my responsibility to check in with you and also my pleasure to test your limits. But at times, a submissive may have unseen limitations at work, and it is the submissive’s responsibility to convey those limitations and discomforts to her Dom. Do you understand?”

He sounds so stern and smart. Who knew a mini lecture could turn me on?

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Would you like something to drink before we begin?”

“No, thank you.”

“Then let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads me to a hallway.

A part of me wants to stop and ask where we’re going, but another part of me is here for him to take the lead.

Do you let all your boyfriends call the shots?

This is a different situation. And Gage isn’t my boyfriend.

We step into a small office. There’s a desk, two chairs—one on either side of the desk—a bookcase. Some black and white photography. All the wood is stained black.

The desk is bare—no papers, no computer.

Gage closes the door behind us. “Get up on the desk, Miss L.”

I guess my lesson is beginning. No warm-up, no preamble. I go to the desk and hop up on the edge to sit.

“I should have been more specific,” he says. “All the way up. I want you standing on the desk.”

“Oh! Okay.”

It’s an awkward climb in my heels. Gage comes over and holds out a hand to steady me.

“Thank you, Sir,” I say.

“You’re welcome. Now, I have a question for you.”

It’s weird to stare down at him, I’m so much higher up. My heels feel a lot less sturdy than they did when I was on the floor.

“When you were onstage,” he says, “being stared at by all those people, how did you feel?”

“Nervous.” I don’t even have to think about my answer. “Self-conscious.”

“And?”

Closing my eyes, I remember back to that night. “I was a little excited, too.”

“You don’t mind a little exhibitionism. I figured that out last Friday.”

When he made me come on his fingers right there in the middle of the club. I haven’t forgotten that interlude.

“Remove your dress,” he says, “and your bra and panties.”

I go for my heels first, but he stops me with a hand on my ankle.

He gives me a challenging look. “Only your dress, bra, and panties.”

I thought I was exposed by the lights and the stage situation during the auction, but this is infinitely worse. Planting my feet on the desk, I unzip the side of my dress and pull it over my head.

Gage holds out his hand and takes the garment from me.

Next, I remove my bra. Gage’s eyes glitter behind his glasses as he takes that from me, followed by my panties.

“Are you going to hang onto those for a while, Sir?” I ask, remembering it was Gage who kept my underwear after the auction.

He gives me a flat look. “I might. Was your last pair ever returned to you?”

Don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer… “Yes.”

Remembering how they were returned, by Dmitri carefully stuffing them into my mouth, I can feel myself blush.

Gage doesn’t comment, but there’s an extra glint in his eyes. He stands back and looks me up and down.

“Uh, any tips, Sir?” I ask. “For the auction?”

“Be more comfortable with nudity.”

“Oh.” My shoulders fall. I don’t want it to be obvious that I’m uncomfortable. Obviously, Gage found me attractive before, and he still does. So I need to remember that.

I will remember that.

I stand up straighter.

“Good,” he says. “Your body is power. Own it.”

“How?”

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come.” His voice is matter-of-fact, clinical.

I stare at him, shocked.

“Do I need to repeat my instructions?” he asks.

“No, Sir.”

He nods in a “go ahead, get started” way.

After he won me in the auction, it had been hard to make myself come on his lap. And I’d been a little self-conscious when he got me off with his fingers in the club the other night. But at least both of those times, we’d been in contact. I’d felt like we were sharing the moment.

Now, he isn’t touching me at all.

In fact, he steps back to stand next to the door. He put my dress and bra in the chair, but he’s still holding my panties. The lacy black fabric blends into his black shirt when he folds his arms across his chest.

He’s waiting on me.

Shit. Okay. I can do this.

Instinctively, I know closing my eyes is the wrong thing to do. My body is power. I keep them open, watching Gage watch me. What does he want? I remember how he took my breasts in his hands, that first night.

But tonight it’s just me up here.

What do I want? What would please me ?

I do stroke my hands over my breasts, but the touches are teasing and light. No rough pinches, not right away. I slide my palms over my belly and hips. My skin is soft and I like touching it, even the parts I might be self-conscious about. It’s my body, and it’s power.

And I can love the power I have.

I widen my stance, scooting my heels out slightly. Dipping my hand to my pussy, I lightly graze over my clit. I swirl my fingers at my entrance, unsurprised to find moisture there. It’s easy to press a finger inside. My hips buck forward, meeting the gentle thrusts of my finger.

I let out a soft moan at how good it feels, then add a second finger.

Gage makes a low sound.

I look up at him, startled. I’d forgotten he was here.

Seeing the way he watches me only increases my arousal. Yeah, I definitely have an exhibitionism kink. Now that I’m no longer so self-conscious, I watch Gage watching me.

There are no instructions, no direction. He simply lets me have my way.

As I pump my fingers into my pussy, the palm of my hand rubs against my clit. I use my free hand to lightly pinch my nipples, going from one to the other.

“I’m going to come,” I gasp.

His voice is so low, I almost don’t hear him. “Do it.”

An explosion of fiery pleasure bursts deep inside, the heat and tension spreading outward. My legs shake. I’m vaguely aware of Gage stepping forward and bracing my legs. He’s spotting me to make sure I don’t fall.

When I’m finished, but still trembling from pleasure, he reaches up. “Come here, I’ve got you, little girl.”

I bend forward and allow myself to fall into his arms.

He tucks me against his chest and sits down with me in the desk chair. I think about trying to get up, but I remember what he said about aftercare, that first night. To him, it’s nonnegotiable, and he requires it.

And I gotta admit, being cradled in his arms like this isn’t half bad. It makes me feel special and cherished.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Yes. Very much.”

“What lesson did you learn?”

“My body is power.” I close my eyes, remembering how good it felt to stand up there and please myself. Pleasure myself. “I can use it…and I should love it. I do love it.”

“I’m very happy to hear that.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“This was all I needed.”

Before I can ask anything else, he spins the chair around so we’re facing the wall.

“This is one of my favorite photographs in Low Vice.” He points to an image of a woman I wouldn’t think is conventionally attractive if I saw her out and about. “Look at the way her shoulders tilt toward the viewer. What do you see in her stance?”

I examine the photo from my comfortable pose on his lap. “Submission. But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“Keep looking.”

The woman’s eyes are lowered so I can’t find clues in her expression. There’s something about the way she tilts her head.

“She’s submissive,” I say, “but she isn’t meek. I get the sense that at any moment the scene could end and she’d be on top of the world. Or maybe…she already is.”

Gage sounds like he’s smiling when he says, “Indeed. That was you tonight, Leah. And next time you’re on stage for the auction, it can be you again.”

There isn’t much to say afterward. I know this isn’t a date, that Gage isn’t forming a relationship with me, but in some ways I really wish he was. I love the way he talks to me, the way he seems to see me.

And the things he’s teaching me? Mind-blowing.

He kisses my forehead and we get up. He helps me dress.

I notice he doesn’t give me back my underwear. Small price to pay for his coaching.

As we’re walking out his office door, something buzzes in his pocket.

He pulls out his phone and checks the screen. “I’m sorry, Leah, I have to answer this.”

He sounds truly regretful, troubled.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” I flash him a carefree smile. “I can see myself out.”

“You’re certain? If you’d rather wait a moment?—”

The phone buzzes again in his hand.

I wave him off. “I’m good. Thanks for tonight.”

“You’re welcome.”

After I step out the door, he closes it firmly behind me.

I hear his voice on the other side. “Claudia, are you all right?”

Who’s Claudia? A spark of jealousy ignites in my heart before I quickly stamp it out. This is not my business. I’m not going to hang around and listen, either. Gage doesn’t owe me anything. In fact, I owe him after what he taught me tonight. I’m not going to repay that debt by eavesdropping on his private conversation.

The club is packed as I make my way to the rear door and parking lot. My mind is spinning with everything I did, everything Gage taught me.

When I reach my car, I stop short. It doesn’t look right.

It takes me a minute, but I figure it out. Both tires on the driver’s side are flat. Well, that’s shitty. Did I run over something and not notice? Seems pretty weird that they’re all the way flat, when I was able to drive here just fine.

I step closer and see long, wicked gashes across the rubber.

Someone slashed my tires.