water and night sky. They shared more of the bottled water, watched the distant party-goers, highlighted by the strung lights, the flutter of torch flame, and the graceful lines of the plantation house behind them. The way the pool house was lit up made it look like a wedding cake.
As he’d removed the ropes, he’d noted a look on her face that told him she missed their hold. He’d get on that harness idea soon. In the meantime, her reaction gave him an idea for the next place he wanted to check out. So when he thought she was ready, he suggested they rejoin the party around the pavilion tent, check the booths behind it. On their earlier circuit, they’d discovered a small handful of craftspeople were set up back there, offering goods related to the evening’s events.
She was amenable to the idea. After he lifted himself back into the chair and she straightened and smoothed her clothing, they made their way back to the walkway and toward the populated area of the grounds again. On the way, Rory dropped the neatly re-coiled rope on the dais next to the curtained area where Des had retrieved it. Rory had no doubt it was part of the rope artist’s personal stash. He couldn’t see Des trusting his sub to any rope he hadn’t chosen and conditioned himself.
The craftspeople selectively chosen for this event offered leather goods, jewelry, clothing and BDSM toys. There was also a corset seller. It was to that booth that Rory took Daralyn.
The corsetier was a middle-aged stout woman who, in her corset and white ruffled blouse with a gathered skirt, looked like a tavern maid in a Robin Hood film. She had sky blue eyes and a blunt-edged crop of short hair the color of maple syrup.
“I’m Callie, and you’ll look amazing in a corset,” she told Daralyn. “As for these,” she cupped her own ample breasts, “It doesn’t matter how small they are. In a corset, your Master’s gaze won’t be able to leave them.”
When Daralyn sent Rory a glance, he responded with a grin. “I love yours. I’m open to any new way to show them off.” He nodded to a light gray corset with pale green flowers on it. He thought it would be a good match for her hazel eyes. “Try that one.”
“Do you want it over her dress, or would you like to see how it looks on under it?” Callie asked.
“Under it,” Rory decided.
The vendor nodded. “Out here, or behind the changing curtain? There’s room behind it if you want to join us.”
He was on board with that. “Behind the curtain. I’ll follow you.”
“Very good, sir.” Callie proceeded them, holding open the curtain for Daralyn. The vendor booths had temporary event flooring, just like the pavilion tent, so his chair rolled easily. He parked himself in a corner where he had a good view, but the two women had room to maneuver.
“This dress is so lovely,” Callie said. “May I help her remove it?”
Daralyn’s gaze had remained upon him. Holding her attention, Rory nodded. As the woman moved behind Daralyn and untied the sash, then slid the zipper down, he saw a light shiver course through his sub. When the corsetier pushed the dress off her shoulders, Rory managed, barely, to bite back a groan. He’d already known she wasn’t wearing her usual underwear, but now he saw it in its full glory. A matching wine-colored set, the panties and bra were all sheer lace and satin. Which worked fucking fabulously with the shimmering thigh highs, the lace tops a dove gray color.
Bless Julie and Les. Not that he’d ever tell his sister she’d picked out some seriously cock-stirring underwear for the woman who’d captured his heart.
“May I remove the bra?” Callie asked. Again, Daralyn looked to him, and Rory gestured his assent to the woman.
As the cups slipped away, Daralyn stood before him in only the panties, thigh-highs and the low heels. Damn.
Daralyn lowered her lashes, as if seeing what was in his eyes was too powerful for her to hold his gaze. That only increased the possessive feeling inside his chest, the hard thump of his heart. The corsetier knew her business, because she remained quiet, recognizing what was happening between her client and his sub was a private matter, desiring as little outside intrusion on the experience as possible.
She fitted the corset around Daralyn, hooking it in front and moving to the back to begin the tightening process.