idea what he does for a living—maybe I could ask him…? But I’m betting he doesn’t spend his time in an office. Those muscles didn’t become so perfectly honed in a gym. And then there’s the pretty much all over tan. I’m scrutinizing him carefully, yes, definitely staring despite my best intentions. He’s slightly paler across his firm, perfectly rounded buttocks, but only very slightly. He clearly spends a great deal of his time outdoors, and not much of it around here. The north west of England is nice enough, but not widely renowned for its sub-tropical climate.
If I’m honest, I don’t as a rule think nudity is especially flattering for a man. Clothes do tend to disguise any slightly flabby areas very effectively, and all those dangly bits can be very distracting if you’re trying to hold a serious conversation. Not that conversation is high on my ‘to do’ list just now. And come to think of it, fully naked Doms are a rare enough sight even in a BDSM club. Usually that degree of exposure is reserved for we submissives who are frequently paraded around nude. But Nicholas Hardisty seems to make his own rules, and I am definitely appreciating the view just now.
He strides over to the door leading into the corridor, opens it and steps outside, quite oblivious to the display he’s about to gift to any fortunate passerby in the corridor. He’s back in a moment, carrying a tray. He returns to the bed and dumps the tray next to me before sitting down himself.
“Room service came. Coffee?”
I scramble into a sitting position, equally unembarrassed to enjoy a naked late night snack and nod my thanks. Apart from a tall carafe of coffee, milk and a bowl of those rough-cut sugar lumps you sometimes see in up-market Italian bistro’s, the tray carries a selection of dips along with bowls of vegetable chunks and a plate of still-warm strips of pitta bread. Very healthy, just the sort of food I like. How did he know? Lucky guess, must have been. He turns the two cups on the tray upright and pours coffee into each, again very un-Dom-like. ‘Serving’ of any sort is normally strictly reserved for submissives or the club staff. Doms lift nothing, unless you count whips, of course.
He hands me a cup, gesturing to me to help myself to milk and sugar. I just take the milk, and settle back against the bed head to sip my coffee. Nicholas Hardisty shifts around to arrange himself next to me, one long, tanned leg bent at the knee and the other stretched out lazily. I can’t resist a surreptitious peek at his now less than impressive erection, wondering what sort of provocation it might take to re-kindle it. Maybe later. Hopefully…
We sip in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Nicholas reaches for the now half empty carafe and offers me a refill. I accept, and we repeat the pouring and milk ritual.
“Fancy a nibble?” He lifts the tray and pulls it closer, carefully balancing it across our knees. “Please don’t scoff all the hummus—I intend to lick that off your nipples a little later. But you’re welcome to anything else…”
My nipples! Christ! I feel my face burning—despite this evening’s dizzying succession of intimacies I’m not beyond embarrassment it would appear, and he chuckles softly. “It’s playtime, sweetheart, and now that we’ve started to widen your horizons a little, I’m nowhere near finished with you yet. I’m thinking maybe we could try some of this garlic mayonnaise on your clit too. Unless you’re in a hurry to get away, obviously…?
I shake my head, my expression no doubt somewhat dazed. He chooses not to comment, just nods briefly and helps himself to a carrot stick. He dunks it in the garlic mayonnaise, perhaps intending to start developing a taste for the stuff. I can but hope. But he holds it out to me instead, and I obediently open my mouth for him to pop it in.
“Good girl. Now, eat up. You’ll be needing your strength.”
Chapter Five
He’s
If I’m honest, I don’t as a rule think nudity is especially flattering for a man. Clothes do tend to disguise any slightly flabby areas very effectively, and all those dangly bits can be very distracting if you’re trying to hold a serious conversation. Not that conversation is high on my ‘to do’ list just now. And come to think of it, fully naked Doms are a rare enough sight even in a BDSM club. Usually that degree of exposure is reserved for we submissives who are frequently paraded around nude. But Nicholas Hardisty seems to make his own rules, and I am definitely appreciating the view just now.
He strides over to the door leading into the corridor, opens it and steps outside, quite oblivious to the display he’s about to gift to any fortunate passerby in the corridor. He’s back in a moment, carrying a tray. He returns to the bed and dumps the tray next to me before sitting down himself.
“Room service came. Coffee?”
I scramble into a sitting position, equally unembarrassed to enjoy a naked late night snack and nod my thanks. Apart from a tall carafe of coffee, milk and a bowl of those rough-cut sugar lumps you sometimes see in up-market Italian bistro’s, the tray carries a selection of dips along with bowls of vegetable chunks and a plate of still-warm strips of pitta bread. Very healthy, just the sort of food I like. How did he know? Lucky guess, must have been. He turns the two cups on the tray upright and pours coffee into each, again very un-Dom-like. ‘Serving’ of any sort is normally strictly reserved for submissives or the club staff. Doms lift nothing, unless you count whips, of course.
He hands me a cup, gesturing to me to help myself to milk and sugar. I just take the milk, and settle back against the bed head to sip my coffee. Nicholas Hardisty shifts around to arrange himself next to me, one long, tanned leg bent at the knee and the other stretched out lazily. I can’t resist a surreptitious peek at his now less than impressive erection, wondering what sort of provocation it might take to re-kindle it. Maybe later. Hopefully…
We sip in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Nicholas reaches for the now half empty carafe and offers me a refill. I accept, and we repeat the pouring and milk ritual.
“Fancy a nibble?” He lifts the tray and pulls it closer, carefully balancing it across our knees. “Please don’t scoff all the hummus—I intend to lick that off your nipples a little later. But you’re welcome to anything else…”
My nipples! Christ! I feel my face burning—despite this evening’s dizzying succession of intimacies I’m not beyond embarrassment it would appear, and he chuckles softly. “It’s playtime, sweetheart, and now that we’ve started to widen your horizons a little, I’m nowhere near finished with you yet. I’m thinking maybe we could try some of this garlic mayonnaise on your clit too. Unless you’re in a hurry to get away, obviously…?
I shake my head, my expression no doubt somewhat dazed. He chooses not to comment, just nods briefly and helps himself to a carrot stick. He dunks it in the garlic mayonnaise, perhaps intending to start developing a taste for the stuff. I can but hope. But he holds it out to me instead, and I obediently open my mouth for him to pop it in.
“Good girl. Now, eat up. You’ll be needing your strength.”
Chapter Five
He’s
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