Page 13 of Over the Line
She was aware of him unfastening her ankles then rubbing her bare legs. Although the touch wasn’t erotic, it sent a warm shiver through her.
“Stay where you are,” he instructed.
As if I can move.
Her Dom for the night took control again, tugging her dress back into place before he effortlessly lifted her from the ground, scooping her into his arms.
She prided herself on her strength, and she’d never been a snuggler. But he’d worn her out, left her powerless to do anything other than wrap one arm around his neck and lay her cheek against his chest. She breathed in his power and strength, and the fresh mountain scent of his soap. He felt…comforting.
He snatched up the blanket and strode toward the patio.
“My shoes.”
“I’ll get them in a minute,” he said.
Near the firepit, he placed her in a chair. After wrapping the blanket around her, he promised to come right back.
She watched him return to the fence to pick up her heels and the cuffs. Her strappy sandals dangled from his index finger, and she wondered why she found the sight so sexy.
When he was close, he dropped everything in an untidy pile before signaling for a server.
With a “Thanks,” he snagged two waters from the man’s tray, then uncapped one and offered it to her. “How are you feeling?”
“I…” Hands curled around the bottle, she hesitated. Instead of taking a drink, she regarded him.
Generally she kept her thoughts and emotions to herself. Other than her friend Vanessa and a couple of college roommates, Sydney wasn’t particularly close to anyone.
Nearby, the wood crackled and hissed, the light casting intriguing shadows over him. Finally, she settled for a noncommittal answer. “You were right… You made me beg.”
He leaned over her, bracing his hands on the chair arms, and said, “That was only an appetizer, Sydney.”
They were so close, they breathed the same air. “Is that a promise?”
“Or a threat.” With a grin, he pressed one of his thumbs to her lips. “Take it any way you want.”
She shuddered.
For a wild moment she wondered if he was going to kiss her. But that was too personal. Wasn’t it?
As she blinked, he lowered his hand, then used a booted foot to drag in another chair so he could sit nearby.
Already, she’d gotten so much more than she’d expected here tonight. She still had on everything except her underwear, and she’d yet to catch a glimpse of his naked body. He was right about one thing—what they’d shared had definitely whetted her appetite. Now she wanted the main course.
Although there were many other couples milling about, he’d positioned her so that she felt cocooned, as if it were just the two of them on the vast acreage.
She sipped her water and noticed Gregorio and the Den’s owner, Master Damien, looking in their direction.
Master Damien was as dashing as he was rakish. The cuffs of his long-sleeved white shirt were folded back, exposing his forearms. His hair was longer than it had been the last time she’d seen him, and she wondered how many subs, men and women alike, longed to run their fingers through it. To her knowledge, though, he played with no one. His history was an object of frequent discussion, but the man himself provided no answers.
Gregorio stood next to his boss, shoulder to shoulder. If she wasn’t mistaken, Gregorio was smiling.
A woman with incredibly long, dark hair joined them. A much, much larger man, apparently her sub, knelt next to them with his head bowed. Even while she talked with Gregorio, she kept her hand affectionately on top of her sub’s head.
The man cocked his head a little, looking up at his Domme. It could be her imagination, but the man looked peaceful in a way Sydney had never experienced.
“Mistress Catrina,” Master Michael said as if reading her thoughts. “She’s training a new submissive.”
“Training? They’re not a couple?”