be happy she
had a Dom now that she’d been happy with for several weeks. Hunter Mills was
inventive, demanding, caring, all the things a Dom should be. But now she
wanted more than just the hours of play at Club Fantasy. She had discovered she
wanted the lifestyle all the time, every time, except at work. She had the submissive’s need to conform to the will of a Dom in all
the private areas of her life.
A
hand touched her shoulder and she jerked, eyes opening. When she saw who it was
she relaxed again. Hunter, six foot one of solid male, with thick dark hair
that just brushed his shoulders, eyes a rich emerald green, a sculpted face and
a smile that could melt her panties in a hot minute.
“You
startled me,” she told him.
“Sorry.”
He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, brushing his fingertips across the
tops of her breasts at the same time. “You should take off this little scrap of
cloth. It barely covers you, anyway.”
Deftly
he released the tie at her nape, slipped his hand down to reach the one at her
back, and pushed her bikini top to the side. Delaney shifted in her seat. Part
of Hunter’s thing as her Dom was to show his possession in ways like this. He
enjoyed letting other people know that she obeyed all his orders as well as
proudly displaying the assets of his submissive.
Forcing
herself to resist the automatic reflex to cross her arms over her breasts, she
let her gaze roam casually over the others at poolside and on the wide covered
deck. The men wore bathing suits that were little more than codpieces, the
women either bikinis or tiny shorts and halters. Some of the women had already
removed their tops. On a wide lounger Nia March sat cradled between the thighs
of her Dom, “Blackjack” Blackwell, talking to a man standing beside them.
Blackjack idly fondled his subs’ breasts, toying with her nipples, sliding a
hand over her tummy into the tiny triangle of fabric covering her mound.
Of course. Why should she feel the least bit uncomfortable?
Everyone here at one time or another had taken part in performance night at
Club Fantasy. And giving in to their sensual natures at informal gatherings
like this was almost a given. It was a lot like being in the lounge at the
dungeon only more private, because all the people here were friends.
She
looked up at Hunter and smiled. Of all the Doms she’d
been with, he was by far the best. Not only was he inventive sexually but he
was also caring, attentive, and considerate. He was one of the few she’d
developed a relationship with outside the club, someone she enjoyed socially as
well as sexually. Someone who understood her submissive needs
outside the bedroom. So why couldn’t he be enough? Why couldn’t she
agree to establish a household with him where they could live their lifestyle
all the time? At least half the women who’d been with Hunter would have given
anything to have that on the table.
There
must be something wrong with me.
“Heavy thoughts there, sweetheart?” Hunter crouched down beside her,
idly pinching one of her nipples.
“No.
Yes.” She sighed. “ I
don ’t know.”
His
expression turned serious. “Are you not having a good time?”
She
smiled at him, arching slightly to his touch. “I’m having a wonderful time. I’m
so happy for Tanner and Kelly.” She glanced to her right. “And I have a feeling
Blackjack and Nia won’t be far behind them.”
“I
agree.” Hunter nodded. “And they can thank Kelly and Tanner for that, we were
there the night they were introduced, remember?” He lightly pinched one taut
bud. “What about us, kitten? Where are we going?”
Delaney
turned her head to look at him, a tiny thread of panic wriggling through her.
“Are you unhappy with me, Sir?”
He
bent his head and took the nipple he’d been teasing into his mouth, sucked and
gently grazed it with his teeth before lifting his head again. “Unhappy? Far from it. But I want more, sub. A lot
more. And I sense you
had a Dom now that she’d been happy with for several weeks. Hunter Mills was
inventive, demanding, caring, all the things a Dom should be. But now she
wanted more than just the hours of play at Club Fantasy. She had discovered she
wanted the lifestyle all the time, every time, except at work. She had the submissive’s need to conform to the will of a Dom in all
the private areas of her life.
A
hand touched her shoulder and she jerked, eyes opening. When she saw who it was
she relaxed again. Hunter, six foot one of solid male, with thick dark hair
that just brushed his shoulders, eyes a rich emerald green, a sculpted face and
a smile that could melt her panties in a hot minute.
“You
startled me,” she told him.
“Sorry.”
He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, brushing his fingertips across the
tops of her breasts at the same time. “You should take off this little scrap of
cloth. It barely covers you, anyway.”
Deftly
he released the tie at her nape, slipped his hand down to reach the one at her
back, and pushed her bikini top to the side. Delaney shifted in her seat. Part
of Hunter’s thing as her Dom was to show his possession in ways like this. He
enjoyed letting other people know that she obeyed all his orders as well as
proudly displaying the assets of his submissive.
Forcing
herself to resist the automatic reflex to cross her arms over her breasts, she
let her gaze roam casually over the others at poolside and on the wide covered
deck. The men wore bathing suits that were little more than codpieces, the
women either bikinis or tiny shorts and halters. Some of the women had already
removed their tops. On a wide lounger Nia March sat cradled between the thighs
of her Dom, “Blackjack” Blackwell, talking to a man standing beside them.
Blackjack idly fondled his subs’ breasts, toying with her nipples, sliding a
hand over her tummy into the tiny triangle of fabric covering her mound.
Of course. Why should she feel the least bit uncomfortable?
Everyone here at one time or another had taken part in performance night at
Club Fantasy. And giving in to their sensual natures at informal gatherings
like this was almost a given. It was a lot like being in the lounge at the
dungeon only more private, because all the people here were friends.
She
looked up at Hunter and smiled. Of all the Doms she’d
been with, he was by far the best. Not only was he inventive sexually but he
was also caring, attentive, and considerate. He was one of the few she’d
developed a relationship with outside the club, someone she enjoyed socially as
well as sexually. Someone who understood her submissive needs
outside the bedroom. So why couldn’t he be enough? Why couldn’t she
agree to establish a household with him where they could live their lifestyle
all the time? At least half the women who’d been with Hunter would have given
anything to have that on the table.
There
must be something wrong with me.
“Heavy thoughts there, sweetheart?” Hunter crouched down beside her,
idly pinching one of her nipples.
“No.
Yes.” She sighed. “ I
don ’t know.”
His
expression turned serious. “Are you not having a good time?”
She
smiled at him, arching slightly to his touch. “I’m having a wonderful time. I’m
so happy for Tanner and Kelly.” She glanced to her right. “And I have a feeling
Blackjack and Nia won’t be far behind them.”
“I
agree.” Hunter nodded. “And they can thank Kelly and Tanner for that, we were
there the night they were introduced, remember?” He lightly pinched one taut
bud. “What about us, kitten? Where are we going?”
Delaney
turned her head to look at him, a tiny thread of panic wriggling through her.
“Are you unhappy with me, Sir?”
He
bent his head and took the nipple he’d been teasing into his mouth, sucked and
gently grazed it with his teeth before lifting his head again. “Unhappy? Far from it. But I want more, sub. A lot
more. And I sense you
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