Page 24 of Balthazar's Fire

Balthazar

With flushed cheeks and her lower lip caught between her white teeth, Cherie was a vision. Even in Monroe’s office and Berrunti’s, Balthazar hadn’t dared to dream that the beautiful brunette could be so downright sexy, and now, even after everything she’d been through, she’d agreed to let him take charge, for tonight at least.

“Go and stand where I asked you to.” He kept his voice low and velvety, suppressing the enormous cheer that rose inside him as she stood and walked to the exact spot he’d indicated.

Balthazar had been turned on by the practice of dominating women for as long as he could remember, but he never took their submission for granted. Relinquishing control to someone else was a huge leap of faith, particularly when those involved hadn’t known one another for long, and especially after everything Monroe had put Cherie through. He wasn’t blind to what Cherie was putting on the line as she waited for his command, and despite his raging erection and hammering heart, he wanted to treat her compliance with care.

“Watch for my command,” he told her, leaving his tie on his thigh and lifting his hand in the same manner he’d done when she’d been sat by his side.

Her gaze was glued to it immediately, her green eyes unblinking as she awaited his verdict. Triumph soared at her obedience, the tiny victory buoying him. She had been listening then, and seemed determined to make him proud. His cock throbbed at the glorious conclusion. She yearned to submit as much as he longed to take the lead. So far, so flawless…

Wordlessly, he gave the signal, beckoning her with his fingers, and then held his breath to see how Cherie would react. Her hands moved to the sash around her waist, releasing its hold and permitting it to fall to her feet. Time stretched idly around them as the two sides of the robe hung free, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her nakedness, and then, just as Balthazar thought he couldn’t take any more, she shrugged it from her shoulders, forcing it to pool at her toes.

Fuck.

Just as he’d imagined, Cherie was gorgeous. Her hair fell past her shoulders, barely covering the swell of her pert breasts, and as his gaze lowered, he took in the curve of her hips and the dark thatch of hair between her legs.

“Well done,” he cooed, attempting to compose himself as he envisioned all the things he was going to do to her. “You’re absolutely delightful, Cherie.”

Swallowing, she offered him a nervous smile. “Thank you, sir.”

He could tell how much effort it was taking for her to stand there and be observed, sensing how every fiber of her longed to snatch the robe and cover her body. But she didn’t. She accepted her fate because it was what he’d asked of her, and Balthazar was utterly enthralled with her capitulation.

“Now,” he went on, lifting his hand back into position so her focus reverted to his little finger. “I will soon ask you to take a long, deep breath, and to hold it for a few seconds.”

Cherie’s brows knitted at his explanation, but she nodded her head regardless. She didn’t yet understand that these were often the most precious moments of submission. So many men thought that satisfaction could only be garnered with crops and chains, but Balthazar had learned that the true connection between a dominant and his submissive was built long before then.

“I will then lower my hand at which time you’ll begin to release your breath and your eyes will stay on my little finger.” His gaze bore into her, acknowledging how fragile she seemed and yet remembering the woman who had stoically dealt with the trauma of the night before. “My hand lowering will cause you to drop gently to your knees.”

This was the crucial instruction, the one her logical mind would try to resist. Why should she fall naked to her knees just because Balthazar’s hand had lowered? Why should she do so at all? Studying her face, he looked for any sign that she might be about to bolt, but none were evident. Cherie’s breathing was fast and regular, her nipples beaded into tantalizing buds and her hands still by her side. If anything, her body language suggested a woman who was willing to do whatever Balthazar instructed, but he couldn’t be sure. Not until he’d tested her.

“Do you understand what I’ve told you?” His voice hardened a fraction, expressing the significance of the moment.

“Yes, sir.” Her attention remained on the tip of his little finger, despite her small, fidgety movements which conveyed that she would rather have moved, or at least made eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said admiringly. “You are doing wonderfully.”

“Thank you.”

“Now,” he persisted. “Take that long, deep breath and hold it for a moment.”

She drew in the air, her shoulders rising at the instruction.

“I’m now passing my hand down to my thigh,” he told her, calmly lowering his hand as he had assured her that he would. Pre-framing the action was important to Balthazar. It enabled him to offer reassurance without the need for physical touch, or even more words, by relaxing Cherie’s conscious mind. Once she understood what would happen and what to expect, she was far less likely to experience fear or want to flee. He’d studied the psychology and understood it well. “As I do, let your knees soften and your body lower slowly toward the floor.”

He watched in ecstatic rapture as Cherie fell to her knees in front of him.

“Well done, Cherie,” he commended. “I’m so happy with you. You’re a natural at this.”

Balthazar caught sight of her smile as her gaze fell to her knees, a curtain of her glossy hair falling to shield the rest of her expression.

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured.

“Now, lift your hands out in front of you.” Rising to his full height, he grabbed the tie still resting on his leg and walked to where she knelt. By the time he was on his feet, she had done as he’d asked, her palms facing up between them. “I will soon use my tie to bind your wrists.” His finger grazed an invisible line over the underside of her forearm as he spoke. “If you are no longer content for me to do so, please use your safe word now.”

He paused, permitting her time to think and respond.

“I don’t want to use it, sir,” she answered, lifting her face to meet his gaze.