Page 32 of Lesson In Honesty
Finally, it was his turn.
The top of her head came to his sternum, making him feel like a hulking Goliath towering over a woodland pixie. He was gratified by her pulse bounding beneath the fragile skin of her neck; it was tempting to duck his head and run his tongue over that sweet spot.
Would she moan? Call for her Dom?
“Hello, little pixie.” Christ, his voice sounded an octave deeper, thick with the unspoken need running through his system. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing imaginable?”
“T-Thank you,” she whispered, darting a glance toward his face. Whatever she saw there made her pupils blow, eclipsing the rich brown rings of her irises.
“Do you mind if I touch you?”
Her gaze flicked over to her protective Dom, then back to him. “N-No.”
Mmmn, he loved that slight stutter. A scared sub was no fun to play with; it brought out his guardian side. But a nervous one? They were so easy to tease and taunt, pitting brain against body, until complete submission was their only option to escape.
With his fingertips, he started at her forehead, tracing the lines around her eyes and mouth. A lot of stress in her life, he mused, skimming over a raised, red patch of skin tracking from her temple into her hairline. “Psoriasis or eczema?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I—psoriasis.”
He hummed sympathetically, stroking her beard lightly and finding it —as the Little had declared—remarkably soft. Cupping her neck between his hands, he ran his palms down to her shoulders, then along her arms, reaching behind her head to check the condition of her fingers.
Small, soft, warm.
The rope master knew his job.
Returning to her front, Mack drew circles around her breasts. The rope felt like silk, not quite biting into her flesh but tightenough to be secure. Feathering a rough thumb pad over her nipple, he smiled as it beaded into a sweet, taut peak. “Now that’s just lovely. Beautiful breasts, pixie. Does your Dom give you shiny baubles to clamp on these nipples?”
“Not lately.”
“That’s a shame.” Entertaining himself, he took a breast in each hand, swiping his thumbs back and forth over the buds in turn. When she began to squirm, he half expected Liam to walk over and knock his teeth down his throat for taking liberties, but so far, the Dom was exhibiting precise control. “Will he be mad if I touch you more? Lower?”
She swallowed hard, panting through open lips. Firm, plump lips wet from where her tongue kept lashing out to lick them. “I-I don’t know.”
Pushing his luck further than he’d ever dared before, Mack slid his hands around to frame her ribs. Spreading his fingers wide, he let his hands float down, following the contours of her ribcage, waist, hips, until his fingertips dug lightly into her flesh.
Thumbs forming a bar over her mound, he waited for Liam’s reaction.
Nothing.
“Are you wet, Sierra?”
Fresh color imploded in her cheeks even as some of the light died in her eyes. Mouth turning down at the corners, she shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t.”
What a pity. Was it a symptom of her anxiety, he wondered, or was there another reason? Victims of sexual abuse often had difficulty becoming aroused, but he didn’t get those sort of vibes from her; he doubted she’d let one stranger, let alone half a club of them, touch her so casually.
A side effect of her physical conditions, then? Excess hair was usually tied in to hormone levels—an excess of one, a lackof another? Stress, perhaps. Skin afflictions were attributed to stressful situations.
Hell, he wasn’t a fucking doctor.
“Don’t feel ashamed, Sierra. We all have moments where performing isn’t possible for whatever reason.” He couldn’t stop himself from stroking his thumbs over her neatly trimmed red curls. “May I pet this shy pussy?”
Sierra sent her Dom a bewildered look, swallowed hard enough for her throat to click audibly, then nodded.
“Thank you, pixie. Spread your legs for me, please—a step to each side will do.” Mack let his approval wash over her as she obeyed, identifying her as a people pleaser. This one might be shy, she might be the most self-conscious sub he’d ever met, but she would surrender herself again and again to make others happy. He added a purr of pleasure to his voice. “Aren’t you just the best girl?”
She was delightfully responsive to tone—that stroke of pleasure under his words made her melt, some of the tension seeping from her muscles, and he’d be damned if she didn’t have a praise kink to boot.
Cupping her pussy in his palm, he closed his eyes and savored the heat of her against his skin. A hint of dampness, a slight filling of her labia, a disinterested clit not even trying to peek from its hood.