Temptation - Leigh Lennon Page 0,46

has been strange from the moment I walked into Chadwick’s office weeks ago.

“It’s freeing, and it’s sensual, carnal. It’s easy because I trust him without question. I know I’m always safe with him.” Her speech is breathy and labored. She winces when his fingers find their way to her slit. And though I had a great view with the women on the stage, my eyes are given access to her sex as he works it in a circular motion. Her head flies back when she cries out.

“Pretty.” It’s another name he calls her that I also love. “You aren’t allowed to come, not yet.” His tone is sweet, not demanding.

“Please, Sir?”

“No, Pretty, everything I do for you is for your own good. Let it ride out. Hold onto it, it will be fucking amazing. Hold on, my sweetheart.” Like the dominant girl on the main stage I watched earlier, he kneels, and though his head blocks him as he eats her out, her face now leaning forward tells me how erotic this is. She bites her lips and whimpers. “Come, my pretty.” Her cries carry throughout the room, as she lets out her release.

I don’t remember my hand in Chadwick’s, but I look down, and he’s stroking it tenderly, caressing my knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “If you need to play with yourself, Kitten, you can.” He pauses. “They won’t mind. It’ll turn them on more.” But I can’t. Not because I’m embarrassed. Working on myself will impede my own pleasure watching them at this moment in time.

The quarterback’s girl works through her orgasm, which seems to spread through her slowly and is riding out as her Dom promised her it would. The other man walks on the stage, and I have almost forgotten about his partner suspended from the ceiling when he grabs something from a closet, and Chadwick and Thaddeus help him move it to the elevated area where this show is taking place. If I were to guess, it looks like a vault for a gymnast, but I would almost wager she’s not going to perform a gymnastic dismount. They settle it on the stage. Thaddeus releases his girl from the ropes and approaches Chadwick.

“If it’s okay with you, I think I need to take care of Felicity.” He has his huge arms encompassing her.

Chadwick nods, and as they leave, his girl, Felicity, can barely stand. Leaning over to Chadwick, I ask, “Is she okay? What does he mean take care of her?”

He pulls me into him since this must be the intermission of our little show. “Kitten, Thaddeus is probably one of the most caring dominants I know. He knows when his girl is about to experience sub drop. He’s going to care for her, showing her he’ll always put her needs before his.”

“I don’t get it. What will he do?” I inquire.

He smiles, and when his eyebrows arch and he snickers, his arrogance shows through. “You know nothing about BDSM.” This isn’t entirely true. I did know what a switch is, but compared to Chadwick or most in this lifestyle, the answer is no.

I want to continue with, “No shit, Sherlock,” but I don’t and wait for more of an explanation.

“It’s called after care. He’ll pay full attention to her, tending to all her needs. It’s done for many reasons, but one is to help with the sub drop.” He stops, his head cocked, attempting to read the look on my face. “I’ll explain sub drop to you later. Now, we’re going to watch Mitchell and Nola.”

I thought the girl looked familiar. These are the most recent reality stars from Marry Me—where they’re matched through a dating service, and they have two months to decide if they’re soul mates. They never disclosed this sort of kink on the show, but of course, the network might have frowned upon it. I laugh at my inner dialogue.

“Listen, they are different than Felicity and Thaddeus. Mitchel is a different Dom, a bit rougher but remember, this is all stuff they’ve agreed to, and if it ever gets out of hand, she says her safe word and it’s over.”

The man takes his wife, pushing the front of her body against the leather bonded board, on her knees. She’s naked, but she’s stunning. There is something about her. Besides being beautiful with gray Ombre hair, she’s tall and lean.

“Is the bench made specifically for her?”

A small smirk forms on his face by all my questions. “Not exactly. First