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  “Great technique,” Rick amended and earned a smile and a wry tilt of her head in response.

  They fell silent for a moment but it was a comfortable silence as Brenna finished the last bit of steak on her plate.

  Rick was the first to break the silence. “Change of subject but I’m glad you said yes. Dating, for me…isn’t easy.”

  Her brow rose and he saw the question in her eyes. Did she always communicate this clearly without words? Or was it something special between them? With him?

  It was way too early in their relationship but he sure as hell hoped so.

  “I pride myself on being honest.” Rick spoke quietly. “But most women don’t expect a man to ask them to spank his ass as foreplay.” He chuckled but, to him, it sounded forced. “They expect full-frontal assertiveness and when I don’t deliver, some of them freak and ask if I think they’re a hooker or something.”

  Brenna watched him with a thoughtful expression. His shoulders twitched in anticipation of a slap down, which was fucked up as hell but he’d met some brutal women. Especially the non-Dommes. Then he straightened and lifted his chin. He trusted Brenna and that included admitting his shortcomings.

  When she reached across the table and rested her fingertips on his hand, he exhaled and felt the corners of his mouth turn up.

  “We’re well matched.” Her voice was soft as her skin and full-on sultry. “I’m really glad you asked me out. I’ve done vanilla relationships but how far can you take that when you’ll never be well matched in bed?”

  Rick nodded and shifted in his chair to ease the pressure of his pant leg on his hardening cock.

  Brenna continued, “We all deserve fulfilling sex lives. Some of us ride an edge of kink that makes others run. But it’s what makes you happy. What makes us happy.” She drew slow, light circles across the back of his hand. “Men with tastes compatible to mine, I pride myself on finding out what they like, what they need, and they love me for giving it to them. But here,” she tapped the middle of her chest, “there’s no guarantee we’ll mesh. I want more too.” After a final, light squeeze, she released his hand and took a sip of wine. “It’s complicated. Getting your ass spanked,” she lowered her voice even more, “is only part of your whole. Doing the spanking isn’t anywhere near all of me.”

  “It’s a helluva place to start.” Grinning, he touched the rim of his glass to hers.

  He kept his smug smile internal and thanked their waiter when he stepped up and asked if they’d like to see the dessert menu.

  Just as Rick was answering, “Yes,” a plump man wearing a white smock and checkered pants stopped by their table.

  “Julian.” Rick greeted him warmly, stood and held out his hand. “Thanks for finding a table for us. This is Brenna.” He heard the sappiness in his voice as he introduced his date but wasn’t embarrassed by it.

  “I’m utterly charmed,” the chef said with that barely discernible Québécois accent of his. He let go of Rick’s hand to kiss Brenna’s. “Were the steaks to your liking? And the julienne beans? Good, non?”

  “Delicious. Everything was delicious.”

  “You’re looking good, Julian,” Rick said. “Looks like you’ve dropped a pound or two.”

  Julian stood tall, stuck out his chest, sucked in his gut. “Seven last year and I haven’t put on a pound this year. Like you said, doc, take it slow and don’t gain it back.”

  “Atta boy, Julian. Well done. You’re looking good.”

  “My wife says that too.” He chuckled then dropped one of his meaty hands on Rick’s shoulder. “Just wanted to say hello. You should come by more often. This place needs more beautiful women,” he added and raised Brenna’s hand to his lips one more time, then straightened. “Call me anytime you want a table, Dr. Finley.” With a final wave, he left.

  When he turned back to her, one of Brenna’s eyebrows rose. “Dr. Finley?”

  “Yes.” He gave her his best, self-effacing smile. “General surgery. Good hands,” he added in a low, intimate tone.

  “Amen to that,” she purred, lifted her glass to him and leaned back so the waiter could set the dessert menu on the table in front of her.

  * * * * *

  Rick’s groan of frustration made the corners of Brenna’s mouth quirk up. Frustration and, if she wasn’t mistaken, impatience. She felt his eyes on her as she raised the fat, squat candle, let it hover over Malcolm’s bare chest then dribbled a line of hot wax between his pecs and down his abdomen.

  Shaking, straining against the handcuffs that held his arms taut above his head, Malcolm made a pretty picture stretched out on the padded table. She’d booked the private play room with the long bondage table and was glad she had. With his feet braced against the far end, Malcolm arched his torso closer to the candle then jerked back when another drizzle of hot wax pooled in the indentations around his abdominals. He hissed then those beautiful, brown eyes of his focused on her with an adoration that made her pulse leap.

  Off to her side she heard the chair Rick was tied to creak and skitter against the floor. Righting the candle and using her free hand to stroke Malcolm’s thigh, she glanced over at her other sub. Naked, Rick looked as frustrated as he’d sounded. His eyes reflected lust and a heady need that made her pussy clench. Her panties were already damp and they’d just started.

  Something about Rick…maybe it was the clarity and trust in his expression. Maybe it was just how flat-out sexy his eyes were. Before him, dating subs had never worked out. Some were just depressing. They couldn’t or wouldn’t separate Brenna the woman from Brenna the Domme. She wanted a man who could think for himself. She didn’t want to think for him, let alone have to give him permission to use the washroom like that lawyer from Hamilton.

  Yeesh.

  But Rick? She liked him, a lot. She had to be careful about showing partiality, though, when they were scening with Malcolm. That was tonight’s deal and she was honor bound to stick to it. Sharing the experience with each other was obviously important and fulfilling to both of them. It was a privilege to do that for them.

  But after tonight…if things between her and Rick progressed, the three of them would have to have a talk.

  The corner of her mouth quirked up as she stroked Malcolm’s cock. Well, the parts of it she could touch as it strained against the confines of its steel-mesh and leather cage. The need in Rick’s eyes flared as he watched. God, those eyes.

  With his arms and legs bound so they kept his ass firmly in the chair, there was nothing else Rick could do, although his hard, thick cock spoke volumes about his need and the discomfort it caused.

  “More, Brenna. Fuck,” Malcolm hissed. Despite the cage, his rod bobbed anxiously. “Burn me up with that shit.”

  Brenna knew better than to oblige him, although this time she let the candle hover eight inches over his chest instead of ten as she drizzled more melted wax onto his skin. He panted then grunted with what could only be pleasure. Grinning insanely, with his brow deeply furrowed, he watched her pick up his metal cane with her free hand, stroke him from chin to knee with it, then tap his thighs until he shook. Precum dribbled out through the mesh caging his cock.

  By the time the candle had burned down a good inch Malcolm’s eyes were glazed, he was making odd humming noises and he was huffing more than breathing. Finally blowing the candle out and setting the cane aside, she released his handcuffs and began gently peeling back the wax on his torso. The thin layer of massage oil she’d applied to his skin made the job easier. That and the fact she hadn’t poured wax on the narrow line of hair below his navel, or onto his pubic hair. A sub like Malcolm probably would have screamed and loved every minute of it if she’d tugged out a few of his short and curlies in the process of cleaning him up, but she just wasn’t that kind of sadist.

  She’d prepared a bowl of ice water and wrung out the washcloth soaking in it. Dabbing lightly, she cooled the patches of reddened skin on his body. “Too cold?” she asked and grinned wryly when he angled h
is torso so the cool cloth would brush his nipple. That part of him hadn’t been subjected to her wax play. With reason. He liked pain too much and would probably let himself get burned on purpose.

  “Please,” he murmured.

  Brenna didn’t have the heart to refuse. Picking up a piece of ice, she wrapped it in the cloth and pressed the wet material to his nipple, pulled back, blew gently on the spot then reapplied the cloth.

  With a hiss, Malcolm laid his head back and stroked her arm in a gesture that spoke encouragement and appreciation. When the ice melted and his breathing rate slowed she released the leather straps holding his cock cage in place, then fished out a blanket to cover him up with and another to slip under his head as a pillow. He rolled onto his side and his mouth formed a smile against hers when she kissed him.

  “You gonna do Rick now?” he mumbled. His eyelids looked heavy and his broad shoulders relaxed.

  Lifting her head, she looked over Malcolm’s reclining form until her gaze met Rick’s. “Oh yeah,” she breathed. She licked her lips and straightened.

  Rick’s chest rose and fell fast as she walked toward him. Like he had outside the restaurant, he looked her up and down boldly and without apology.

  He made her feel sexy as hell.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malcolm’s head tip just a little. Enough so he could watch everything she was about to subject his buddy to.

  With deliberate slowness, she inched the hem of her dress higher and higher. Rick’s gaze seemed torn between her face and the baring of her thighs. When the dress was high enough, she straddled his legs and sat down facing him. This time it was obviously no contest as Rick focused on what he could see of the panty-covered pussy hovering over his lap. It was also no accident the thin, white panties she’d chosen tonight were sheer enough to expose almost as much as they hid. She let his thighs take her weight as she draped her arms around his neck.

  “Can I tease you, Rick?” she breathed. His legs felt strong as they supported her weight. Running her tongue around the shell of his ear made him tremble. She liked making strong men tremble. “Hmm?”

  He shook his head as if he’d forgotten the question. Then those delicious lips of his parted in a smile. “Yes, Mistress. Tease me. Anything you want. Anything…for you,” he added in a whisper.

  Capturing that oh so agreeable mouth with hers made heat spark in her extremities. When she ran her fingers through his hair then held on, holding him to her, the skin between each digit actually tingled. The heat tracing through her felt like electricity. This sub was something special. His needs complemented hers in ways she’d never experienced.

  The man behind those needs intrigued her almost to the point of obsession. When she realized that, Brenna inhaled sharply. She was falling fast and hard.

  When she drove her tongue into his mouth, slow and deliberate, he captured it with his, swirled and sucked. With a gasp, Brenna pulled back. Not because she wanted to but because she knew Rick would find more pleasure in denial. None too soon either. Her toes had actually curled, one shoe hung precariously from her foot and she’d mashed her breasts into his chest. Hmm, and what a nice chest it was. She studied the indentation her fingernail made as she scraped his skin. Leaving pale lines in her wake, she tested the firmness of his pecs, the rise of his shoulders, the undulations of his abs and liked it. Liked every inch of him.

  Most of all she liked his occasional hiss or growl when she pressed hard, and the whispery sound as she scraped the soft hairs peppering his chest.

  No wax for this delectable stretch of real estate. Manscaping had its attractions but on this man, natural worked just fine.

  When she circled his nipple, Rick looked at her, hissed once more then nodded. His hiss morphed into a groan when she took hold of him between thumb and forefinger, rubbed delicately then squeezed. And squeezed. And squeezed.

  Panting, he rocked his head back and forth then stopped. Brenna’s panties were wet and she felt perspiration dew her skin. Scening with Malcolm had been incredibly hot but hadn’t turned her on like this.

  She watched him breathing in through his nose and exhaling hard through his mouth as he mastered the discomfort, accepted it then willed his body to process it as pleasure.

  “Very good,” she murmured as she let go, only to run the pad of her forefinger around and around his other nipple. “I’m impressed. And not many men impress me.” He was still grinning when she began to squeeze.

  She kept up the torture, alternating from one side of his chest to the other until his nipples were dark, engorged with blood, and Rick’s controlled breathing began to slip back into panting. When she kissed his nipples they felt hot against her lips. Tracing them gently with the tip of her tongue made him sigh and his taut shoulders relax visibly. Then she leaned back and trailed her hand down his body.

  Rick actually jerked when she grabbed his cock. He did more than jerk when she gave the head a few rough pulls. “Does that feel good?” she cooed.

  “God yes. Mistress, please.”

  “Well, I better stop then,” she said with feigned nonchalance.

  He trembled and looked up at her with pleading eyes when she let go. Oh, those eyes. They were eloquent and if they hadn’t been scening, she’d have taken him any way he wanted, pleasured him every way she could. But that kind of lovemaking wasn’t why they were here. She couldn’t remember being so disappointed.

  When he inhaled, it was ragged and he bared his teeth.

  “You look so fierce when you’re denied sexual release. It’s…beautiful.”

  His gaze met hers and she knew her feelings showed plainly. She desired him and he…he was one of the most sensual men she’d ever met.

  For a moment they simply sat there, looking at each other. Dominant and submissive. She should have felt weakened by her growing emotional attachment to Rick but she wasn’t. Instead, she felt strong and it was a quiet, effortless strength. And, she realized, his submission was infinitely more powerful than her domination.

  In this, they were matched. Mastering whatever demons hounded him required pain and subjugation. Brenna understood this. She also knew, for her, there was no more sublime satisfaction than meting out that pain and, through it, gaining an equal portion of pleasure.

  Yet with Rick it was always more than that basic bond between Domme and sub. It was the man himself and she hoped, really, really hoped, something more would grow between them.

  Breathing slow and even, she held his gaze and cupped his balls. As she adjusted her grip he tensed and there was a feral intensity in his eyes as he watched her lick her lips. Brenna paused. Her sub must have an opportunity to use his safeword, to decide if he was ready to let her torture his cock and balls. Talking the fantasy through together was one thing. Reality was another. She gave him a minute, then one more, all the while sliding his testicles from one palm to the other, keeping her movements small and smooth, weighing his reactions and his balls.

  After a while, she realized Rick was getting off on the anticipation, maybe even more than he was getting off on being touched. His respiration rate increased. Perspiration dotted his upper lip and made his chest shimmer. Leaning forward, she licked his shoulder, gathering up his taste and rolling it around her mouth with obvious pleasure.

  Rick grunted and precum slid down the head of his cock.

  Oh yeah. She was so looking forward to this.

  She’d gotten the idea watching Dorothy and her husband Chris a few weeks back. Both Brenna’s subs had been mesmerized that first night as they’d watched the older couple. Brenna wanted to re-create that for them—while putting her own stamp on the scene.

  With slow, steady pressure, she pulled Rick’s testicles away from his body. Groaning openly, he threw his head back then rocked it forward to watch. Brenna paused, watching his taut abdominals roll in time with his harsh breathing, but he didn’t protest. She pulled again. Slowly. Carefully. Alert for any signs of panic. If he so much as twitched an eye, she’d s
top immediately. Rick held it together. He even spread his legs a little more, despite the fact she was sitting on his lap. Watching his face intently, she growled with pleasure when his balls were pulled out far enough to rub her panty-covered slit.

  Rick thought he was going to lose it—completely lose it—when his shiny-stretched scrotum actually touched the silky material covering Brenna’s pussy. Being this close to her was heaven and hell combined and watching made it unbearably good.

  Off to the side, he heard Malcolm grunt with what had to be longing then tuned him out.

  Wet. Rick groaned when he realized she was as turned-on as him. That her panties were soaked and her wetness was licking his sac. Wet…and hot. Grunting with the effort it took to not jerk forward and drive his package into the beautiful woman spread on his lap, he smiled drunkenly as her heat transferred to him.

  His next grunt wasn’t from pleasure. Brenna moved her hand closer to his body, easing the stretch on his scrotum, levering it away from all that sweet honey then, without warning, began tapping his nut sac with her free hand.

  Hissing and groaning, he tried to jerk his hips back. The bindings and her sitting on his thighs made it impossible to move. When she didn’t stop, he opened his mouth. The word bulldog was on his lips but he made himself hold it in, just for two more seconds. Focusing on what he was actually feeling, not his fear and the instinctive urge to keep anybody from hitting him there, Rick realized she was patting him lightly. Not too fast and not too slow. The strength behind each strike was imperceptible, although the moisture dewing his sac did make for an impressive, slapping sound.

  Off beside them, Malcolm grunted again.

  Breathing in deep then expelling the air slowly, Rick made himself relax. He trusted this woman. She’d demonstrated time and again she had skills and was one hell of an imaginative Domme. Brenna wasn’t just about the pain.