Without A Trace: Inside The Lines Part 5

"Right. Yes. s.h.i.t." I don't even know what to say or think.

My phone vibrates on the table.

Had an amazing night...and morning. When can I see you again?

If my insides weren't already jelly, they would be now. I hand it to Noah. "Answer for me."

He looks down at the phone, then at me. "It's the boy toy. You sure?"

I don't answer, just look at him, and he obliges. Then he stands and stretches, kisses me on top of my head, and tucks my phone back in my hand. "I have to get going-big dinner party tonight, and I think Ella mentioned elephants and trick ponies being involved."

"Sounds like my kind of evening."

He chuckles. "Could be. And congrats, Lux. This is going to work-I have a good feeling about all of it. And I'm never wrong." I wave as he heads for the door. Then I glance at my phone to see what Noah typed in.

How about tonight?

Gee, Noah, thanks.

This time, we decide on pizza. And we order in. After all, I spent the night with the guy. It seems a bit prudish not to invite him to my house at this point. Not to mention, I want to enjoy his body again, and I can't keep calling in favors.

Fin insists on having a drink to toast my good news.

"I'm very happy for ye." He watches me as we each take a sip, and when I put my gla.s.s down, he pulls me to him, his lips tasting of wine and cinnamon. "So, does this mean I'll have to create an online persona to get a date with ye? I'm not much for social media."

"A curmudgeon?"

He makes a face, causing me to giggle. "Aye, the whole asmart phone' bit and Facetube and YouBook-my mates are all crazy over it. I dinna care for any of it."

"Wow. You are really are a die-hard for the olden days, eh?" I kiss him so he can't respond. "And that's Facebook and YouTube. And you aren't seeing anyone or doing anything unless it's aFacebook official,' so..." I enjoy the feel of his five o'clock shadow against my fingertip as I trace his jaw.

He snorts. "Aye, well, I'm just as happy being aunofficial.'" His lips find mine. "Much more clandestine that way."

I slip my arms around his waist, relishing the feel of him against me. "Terrified of social media, hm? Any other fears I should be aware of? Spiders? Corporate greed?"

"Spiders, no. Corporate greed...isn't everyone? How about ye, Lux Trace? What's yer deepest fear?"

While several things come to mind, I go with the safest answer. "Flying." I shudder. "I absolutely hate being airborne."

"Really? Why?"

I consider his question. "I'm not sure. Something about being up there, knowing that if something happens, you have no control over any of it. Yeah, I do not fly. I'll drive just about anywhere. Love trains. But I will do quite a bit to avoid flying."

"A Dominatrix who doesn't like being out of control on a plane." He grins. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

I laugh, lead him to the living room, and push him down onto the couch.

"So, when do I get full Mistress Hathaway treatment?" he asks as I straddle him, enjoying the play of his muscles under my hands as he shifts to accommodate me. We're both in jeans and t-shirts, but that won't last for long.

We kiss, and for a long while, the focus of his mouth on mine distracts me completely. Eventually, I pull back and look at him. "You don't know anything about BDSM, do you?"

"I've heard of it, of course, and I have a general idea-particularly after being in Paddled-but no, not other than that. Is that a problem? I dinna mind that you like it."

I roll my eyes. "Famous last words."

"Why?"

He seems genuinely curious about my reaction, so I try to boil it down for him. "It's hard to maintain a relationship when you don't have common interests. Don't get me wrong-I enjoyed last night. And I'm sure I'll enjoy tonight," I outline his bottom lip lightly with my finger. "But BDSM is a preference. A taste, if you will. It's like trying to eat frozen yogurt to satisfy you, when all you really want is gelato."

His hands slide up my arms, giving me a pleasant chill as he mulls over my words. "I much prefer gelato," he says with a grin. "So, would I know if I like it? I mean, are ye born that way? Or is it more of an..."

"Acquired taste? That's a good question. Sometimes it's a bit of both." I pause, giving his comment some thought. "I've had clients who've always known what they like. Some know, but they haven't felt free to express it. Others...they struggle finding what they enjoy. Like Ari. She knew she wanted to submit, but she was scared to do it again, because it's been used against her by previous partners."

He shakes his head. "That's too bad. She seemed verra sweet and gentle."

"She is. And a very good person. I'm glad I could help her find that safe place to be herself again."

After a few more moments of consideration, he nods, as though coming to a decision. "Should we try it then? Will ye show me what I've been missing out on?"

I silence him with my mouth, unsure how to answer him. I've never been in this position before, as someone's first foray in BDSM. I've always been drawn to-or sought out by-people already in the community. They might not have been active or clear on their preferences, but they already had a solid handle on whether they liked it or not. "You really want to try it out?"

He grins, making him even more delicious. "Weel, I think I do. Maybe I only want to see a wee bit of what ye do. Get my feet wet, ye ken?"

I sit back, grinning in return. "Did a little bit of research, did you?"

"Aye, and there's some scary s.h.i.te out there. Do ye really abuse a man with a bullwhip? Beat him with bare fists? And use clothespins on his b.a.l.l.s?" His quirked eyebrow tells me exactly how he feels about that.

"Mmm." I lean down and press my lips against the blade of his jaw, nudging his head over so I have access to his neck. "Aye, I have."

"And they wanted ye to do that, then?"

I trace the vulnerable curve of his neck, catching his skin between my teeth in light nips. "They paid me to do it."

He snorts derisively. "I dinna think I could take such things on my b.a.l.l.s. Of course, I dinna think I would like being beaten on, either, with whips or fists, ye ken."

His accent makes his insistence even more entertaining. I lose track of my sensual plan and end up with my head against his shoulder, hiccupping with laughter. "Oh my G.o.d," I breathe, trying to recapture my composure. "You make it awfully hard to give you the afull treatment' when you don't like any of my specialties." When his eyes widen, I fall back into giggles. "I'm kidding! G.o.d, I can't breathe." I wave my hands in front of my face, in an effort to...well, h.e.l.l, I'm not sure why I do it, but it seems to help. I flop beside him, then glance up at him. "Oy. I haven't laughed like that in a long time."

"I'm glad to amuse you," he says wryly. Then he smiles and kisses me, nearly taking my breath away again.

I push him back. "I don't get involved in anything involving beatings or bullwhips, but I have used a clothespin or two in my time." I wink. "How about this: we'll play with a little bondage-no pain-and see how you like it? That will give you an opportunity to tell me what you think." I place a hand on his chest, holding him back from kissing me again. "And listen-don't say you like something if you don't, just to make me happy. This is supposed to be fun and s.e.xy for both parties."

He lifts my hand from his chest, then kisses my fingertips before pressing his lips against my palm. "I promise."

Chapter 11.

Kinked I don't invite a lot of people into my bedroom. As a result, I tend to have clothing all over the place and various personal care products spread out over my dresser. So I barely recognize my own room. I'd picked up and put away everything, vacuumed and dusted and organized every corner, and generally recreated the entire s.p.a.ce in the hours before Fin arrived.

I'd also set it up just in case he wanted to play. Hey, a girl can hope, can't she? Our earlier conversation was wildly convenient for my hopes for tonight. I light the candles I've strategically placed around the room. True to my ink, I'm a fan of peac.o.c.ks, so my room's theme reflects as much in small accents.

He eyes the neatly made bed and firelight. "Either ye are verra perceptive, or I'm a suckling pig to slaughter."

"I wasn't even a Girl Scout," I tease, but when he looks confused, I shake my head. "Never mind. I try to be prepared for every eventuality." Something about this man makes me want to smile whenever I look at him, but I can't a.n.a.lyze that too closely right now. Or ever, really. I sober, forcing myself into seriousness. "For the next hour, you will refer to me as Mistress or Mistress Hathaway. If I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?"

My change of persona surprises him, but a slow grin spreads across his face. "Yes, Mistress."

G.o.d, he is beautiful. I fight to keep from smiling in return. "If I do anything that you don't like, you will tell me."

"Should we have a safe word?"

I drop the facade for a moment. "No. We aren't doing anything involving pain, and all you have to do is say something."

"All right then."

With a deep breath, I close my eyes, centering my thoughts and returning to Dom mode. "Take off your clothes. I want to see you."

He complies, watching me while he does so. He pauses when he's only in bikini briefs-which I recognize from the billboard. "Did you want me to take-"

"Did you not understand me?" I snap the words, eyes challenging.

He doesn't look away, but instead meets my gaze as he removes his briefs. The intensity between us gives me a thrill, as a true submissive would break contact. I've never worked with someone who challenged me, and I'm surprised by how my stomach leaps with excitement.

He stands straight, unnervingly calm. And looking like my very own Greek G.o.d with his pale skin and muscled body. I swallow hard, resisting the impulse to break form and throw him on the bed now and have my way with him.

I swallow against the dry patch in my throat, then make an act of appraising him. He closes his eyes as I trail a hand down his arm, then follow a path across his flat stomach, within an inch of his erection. I walk a circle around him, enjoying his perfect stillness, the way the candlelight plays over the planes and hollows of his skin. I keep him off balance with light touches and pause to enjoy the perfection that is his a.s.s. Trust me-it's worthy of worship. He starts when I press a kiss to his smooth back, unable to resist.

I return to face him, and his eyes are closed, his mouth relaxed. Dear G.o.d. I have to mentally smack myself to stay focused.

"Lie down on the bed."

He obeys, and I reach for the ties that are always at the four corners of my queen-size bed. They are soft black rope, easily knotted and released, and I bind all four limbs. Then I stand back to examine my handiwork. There is nothing quite like a gorgeous man bound. Particularly Fin. He has his eyes closed again, breathes steadily, and even when I move around the room, he doesn't twitch. I strip out of my clothing, leaving my black satin bra and g-string in place.

When I settle onto the mattress, he turns his head towards me with a lazy smile, admiring my body. "If this is as bad as it gets, I think I'll be fine."

I offer him a deadpan expression, but inside, I might have melted a bit. Nonetheless, I hold up a crop, its leather end soft as b.u.t.ter from years of use. "If you were a client, I'd start with this." I drag the soft leather along his torso.

He drops his head back to the pillow, steeling himself against laughing. "That tickles."

"It wouldn't if I was using it properly."

"Aye, well...where would ye normally apply it?"

"Back of the legs," I say, slapping the top of his thigh lightly. "a.s.s. Back." Very lightly, I tap it against his straining length. "c.o.c.k."

He blows out a breath. "I think I'll skip the flagellation, if that's okay with ye, Mistress."

I chuckle, despite my determination to stay in character. "We're playing, Fin. I'm not going to hurt you," I raise an eyebrow, "yet."

Tucking the crop behind me, I reveal a lone peac.o.c.k feather.

He grins. "Aye, ye're definitely going easy on me."

"You say that now." I smirk, then lay the feather lightly against his skin.

He shivers, pulling against the restraints. "Ye might have a point."

I tease him, dragging the light fringe over his shoulders, his forearm, and taking an agonizingly slow route to his c.o.c.k. He tries to stay still, but between the tickling plume and the super sensitive areas, he struggles between laughter and sighs of pleasure.

When I swirl the feather over his swollen head, he exhales heavily, fighting a smile of pleasure.

"How does that feel?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but I don't let up. Pulling hard against the ropes, his back arches.

"It seems I might have found your poison."

I torture him a bit more, enjoying his inability to hold still, before I abandon the feather in favor of more involved pleasures. He watches me, and I find myself reveling in his appreciation of my body. I uncurl slowly, then settle between his legs. When my fingers follow the curve of his thick c.o.c.k, my bed shakes with his strain.

"G.o.d, Lux, ye're killin' me."

"I'm sorry-who are you speaking to?" I withdraw my touch.

His gaze centers on me as he spits out through gritted teeth. "Mistress."

I bite back my grin and don't respond, but continue the agonizingly slow caress, until I take him in my mouth. Flicking my tongue against his aroused skin, his hips shift with my rhythm. Between his width and length, I can't take him all in, but he groans when he presses against the back of my throat.

When he's shaking with need, I withdraw, sitting back on my heels.

He opens one eye. "G.o.dd.a.m.n ye, woman. Untie me."

I offer him a sly smile. "That's not how this works, Mr. MacKenzie. First, you never address me without saying aplease.' And second," I stretch myself over him, trapping his c.o.c.k as I sit astride him. "I'm not finished."

He tenses his shoulders, his head falling back. "Ye're evil." Then he lifts his head up briefly. "Mistress."

I laugh, then remove my bra and bend over him, offering him my nipple. "You have no idea just how evil I can be."

He suckles me eagerly, and I'm so aroused from our play that I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out. I breathe deeply, lose myself in the moment, feeling a spreading warmth from my center expand over my thighs. His teeth close on the tip of my breast, the pain warring against the exquisite pleasure.

When I finally mount him, we're both nearly begging, and I'm so wet I take him in nearly to the hilt. I ride him mercilessly, knowing he is unable to thrust fully into me, and the intensity seems endless as I lean forward, pressing my b.r.e.a.s.t.s against him as I savage his mouth. He quakes against me, and when I sense he's close to the brink, I let myself go, falling over the edge with abandon. He goes with me, mouth desperate against mine, as we plunge into sensation.

Afterwards, I untie him, and he shakes his hands and legs to get back his circulation. I'm about to ask how it was, but he reaches for me, pulling me into his lap and devouring my mouth. I'm breathless when he finally pulls away.

"You are incredible."