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Authors: M.Q. Barber

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BOOK: Crossing the Lines
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He delivered personal care and attention not limited to a function of his needs and her convenience. A dozen women and men in various states of undress engaged in numerous sexual and nonsexual activities around them, but he wouldn’t trade her or Jay for any of them.

His gaze, cool and appraising, as he studied the players and their games, and its softening when he looked at her, at Jay, to gauge their reactions revealed the truth. He’d wanted her to see this. She understood the difference so much better now.

Her nerves stretched and knotted not because she doubted him but because these others would judge them the way the woman had. They saw in her a reflection of Henry and his skills, his mastery, and she yearned to be a credit to him and not a disappointment.

Jay fidgeted more than usual, from more than excitement. Expectation might hold sway over him, too. His eyes held a sliver of his desperate, wild look from the night Henry first flogged her. Facing demons.

Henry ushered them into a larger room with a central raised platform and scattered seating. He moved with purpose, hustling them forward.

“Excellent,” he murmured, happiness or relief in his tone. “The perfect gentleman for Alice’s introduction, and a familiar face for you, Jay. Best behavior please, my dears.”

Henry waved. A few more strides brought her face to chest with a giant of a man. Tall, broad, and carrying more than a handful of extra weight. Dressed to the nines, though, his body language relaxed and easy.

Henry seemed equally relaxed, and her body took its cue from him.

“Henry, it’s been ages. I’ve seen you, what, no more than three times in the last year, always alone, and now you bring two beautiful pets with you?” The stranger circled as if inspecting them.

She kept her gaze downcast. Jay stealthily enveloped her hand in his.

“The boy I recognize, but the girl is new.” His formal suit resembled Henry’s, but with whimsy in his tie selection—a swirling pattern of what seemed red roses. Upon closer inspection, they revealed themselves as red foxes chasing each other in circles. “Adding to your collection, or borrowing for the night? If she’s available, do tell me where you acquired her.”

“She is entirely unavailable, William, as is he. And, I think, both together are much too spirited for you to manage.” An affectionate wryness threaded through Henry’s tone.

The man snorted. “They seem perfectly docile to me, Henry. But you’ve always had that gentle way with the subs. You walk softly and they still want the big stick.”

He laughed, a booming guffaw. Between the jolliness and the oversize gut, he embodied Santa Claus. “You’re certain you won’t loan me your lovely? She must make a cozy little lapwarmer.”

Sit on Santa’s lap? Oh God. She couldn’t help the first giggle, and she couldn’t stop the second. Her behavior would embarrass Henry if she didn’t get it under control.

Henry tipped her chin up with his fingertips, and that was worse. Santa William sported a close-cropped blond beard and rosy cheeks.

She bit her lower lip in a desperate attempt to stifle the giggles.

“She does indeed,” Henry said as he studied her face. Smiling, he kissed the tip of her nose. “But I wager at the moment she’s considering her Christmas list.”

Blushing fiercely, her giggles gone, she wished she dared squirm away from Henry’s fingers and hide her face.

William barked out a sharp laugh. “She can call me Santa if she likes, Henry—so long as she’s sitting on my lap.”

Henry wiped away her embarrassment with a gentle hand traveling along her jaw, over her ear, and around the back of her head. He smoothed her hair with slow strokes. Jay’s fingers, curled around her hand, made the same motion.

“Not tonight, Will. It’s her first outing. The only lap she’ll warm is mine.”

“Aha! So this is your new project. I see why you’ve been spending nights at home.”

“They do keep me pleasantly occupied.” Henry gestured toward an empty grouping of chairs. “Shall we? Neil will be giving the shibari demonstration soon, and I’d like to study his technique.”

The Japanese rope bondage? Henry wouldn’t explore it with Jay. He shied from bondage games, with reason, even if Henry’s use of them with her had increased his comfort.

“Adding something new to your repertoire, are you?” William took three steps and dropped into one of the seats Henry had pointed out, a plump, oversize chair with wide arms and a deep cushion suited to his bulk.

Henry intended to put rope patterns on her skin. Thrilling anticipation coiled around her. A fresh project with her at the center. One to inspire his next gallery show.

“Perhaps.” Henry selected an armless chair for himself, a flowing seat that left him naturally reclined. “Jay, to my right, please. Waiting pose, relaxed.” He stretched out his arm. “Alice, with me.”

Jay sank gracefully to his knees at Henry’s right side, sitting back on his heels and resting his head against Henry’s thigh. He was all tumble-puppy at home, but when he put on his best behavior, he was a credit to Henry’s training. The consistency, in love and in discipline, gave him the tools to be his best self.

Henry guided her to his lap. Settling her on his left thigh, he pulled her body against his chest.

She snuggled her face into his neck. Familiar comfort, his scent and Jay’s sweet face. Jay rubbed his cheek on Henry’s pants like a cat, and the hunger in his eyes hardened her nipples. Christ. Their first night together, the pleasure of Henry’s fingers and Jay’s tongue inside her. Her legs rested between Henry’s. She shifted her weight in an attempt to ease her building desire.

Henry shifted in response, moving from rubbing circles on Jay’s shoulder to cupping her sex and rubbing his fingers over her panties. She struggled to keep from thrusting into his grip.

“I do enjoy trying new things with these two,” Henry said. Calm and conversational, even while he worked at her. “They’re wonderfully responsive to touch and tone.”

“Yes, I see.” Henry’s friend spread his legs. His seat on the far side of Jay no doubt offered an excellent view of Henry’s fingers skimming over her panties. “Domestic training, too? You’ve had the boy for years now, haven’t you?”

“I have, yes. He’s a delight. Playful, quick, eager to please.” Henry’s answer made Jay smile. “Prone to impatience at times, but having a new playmate to please has tempered him. I’m quite proud of how he’s grown in recent months.”

Wide-eyed and beaming, Jay squirmed. The way he rocked his hips, he must’ve skipped interested and gone straight to full-on ready. Public praise from Henry might cause a spontaneous orgasm for him.

“But no, they aren’t under strict domestic submission at home.” Henry slipped his finger under the edge of her panties and traced her lips. Her burgeoning laughter at Jay’s unabashed glee washed away under a wave of arousal. “I find it stifles their creativity, and I adore their spontaneity.”

William sighed. “I envy you. My wife would never submit. You know how demeaning she finds the entire idea.”

A Mrs. Santa William? Jay nodded against Henry’s thigh. Maybe a lot of the people here hid their activities from spouses or had ones who knew but refused to participate.

“Heaven forfend I suggest bringing a true sub home, even for nonsexual play. Jealousy, you know. Very bitch in the manger. And you’ve somehow managed to find two.”

God, being married to Henry, knowing he played fetish games with Jay, but refusing to take part or even witness it would be worse. Fearing he cared more for Jay, eaten up by jealousy and confusion. The emotional crap had almost driven her crazy before Jay had helped her find her courage. To be trapped in that confusion forever? What a nightmare.

“I’m lucky,” Henry said, mildly.

Skilled
, she mentally corrected. Henry made his own luck.

He slipped his index finger inside her and thrust. She shivered, whimpering when he pulled his hand out from beneath her panties and pressed his finger to Jay’s mouth.

“Open, Jay. Suck.” Obedience resided in hollowing cheekbones and an intent stare. “You see? They play quite well together.”

“I do see. You pair them often?” William readjusted his position.

Pants getting tight, Santa?

She squirmed in Henry’s lap. Being the focus of outside attention induced more arousal than fear. She’d expected watching others play would be fun, and it was, if not emotionally engaging. But she’d harbored concern she might panic if Henry tried to put her on display.

Unthinkable. She refused to disappoint him at a place where he’d earned respect among friends she’d never met. The potential mistakes here went beyond using the wrong fork or forgetting to say grace.

“When time and good behavior permit, yes.” Henry traced the outline of her labia through her panties. She opened her legs, a request for more he wouldn’t fail to understand. “They please me equally in their care for each other’s needs as they do in their responsiveness and obedience to my own desires.”

Jay’s tongue peeped out from between his lips. Apologies on his mind, she’d bet.

Henry brushed a finger over her clitoris, and her hips rolled.

William laughed, soft and kind. “She’s eager for it, Henry. The boy, too.”

He wasn’t mocking, not the way Jay’d described some dominants he’d met. Santa William’s deep voice held enchantment. “If they were mine, I’d have set them to work by now. You always have loved putting on a show. As I’m benefitting from it, I don’t suppose I’ll complain too loudly.”

“Complain all you like, Will.” Henry slid his finger beneath her panties and thrust. She rocked her hips until Henry slipped his finger free again. “Your complaints have never changed my plans before.”

Henry touched her nipple. Warm and wet, his finger circled with teasing pressure. “Jay, be a good boy and clean Alice’s breast for her. She’s gotten something on it.”

Jay rose to his knees in fluid motion and leaned across Henry’s leg. Tongue out, he licked and lapped above the edge of her corset. Raising her nipple to a high peak didn’t require much work.

He closed his mouth over her breast, his moan muffled by her flesh as he sucked. Her own moans, a series of low, breathy sounds on every exhale, weren’t so stifled.

“Listen to them, Will.” Henry kissed her cheek. Slipping his finger into his mouth, he sucked it clean. “Aren’t they lovely playmates?”

“Lovely enough that I’ll need one of my own.” William’s voice had grown deeper.

He beckoned, and within seconds a green-ribboned woman scurried over and knelt before his chair. Her positioning matched Jay’s waiting pose. He, too, assumed it once more, Henry having quietly praised his thorough cleaning of her breast. Her silent thanks earned Jay’s sweet grin.

Henry nudged Jay to lie against his thigh and stroked his hair. The lights flickered twice. She sharply reminded herself not to look at the ceiling and accidentally stare at the wrong person.

“I’m in the mood for a quiet friend with a talented mouth this evening.” William spoke almost inaudibly to the submissive at his feet. Alice strained to hear him. “Is that you, little one? Or will you need to run and find me another friend to play with?”

“That’s me, sir.” The woman had a soft, thin voice. Her pale pink corset and white stockings with garters, but no panties, revealed smooth flesh. “My mouth is yours, sir.” Deep mahogany hair had been pulled into a tight braid and wound into a bun at the nape of her neck. “Green, yellow, red, sir?”

Temporary safewords. Henry had described them as a common code for players who hadn’t played together before. The woman had initiated an abbreviated safeword ritual.

“Green, yellow, red,” William repeated. “What are you called, little one?”

“Nina, sir.”

“Give me your hands, Nina.”

Their intimate interaction fascinated her more than the rooms had. What kind of man would Henry have for a friend here? She marked his words, his movements, to determine if he treated this girl the way Henry treated her and Jay. How submissive this Nina would be with a man she’d apparently never met. One whose pants she eagerly opened.

“I see you’ve found something to pique your interest, Alice.” Henry spoke directly in her ear, and she’d have jumped if his arm hadn’t been tight around her back. “Curiosity, is it?”

Bingo. That was all right, wasn’t it?

“Good girl,” Henry whispered. “I’m certain Will is happy to have an appreciative audience.”

BOOK: Crossing the Lines
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