He had a nice, low voice, with just the hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place.
“My father was Scottish, my mother is Irish, and I grew up in London, miss.”
Olivia tilted her head to one side. He was studying her carefully, obviously trying to work out how she’d react to him sharing those facts.
“Impressive,” she allowed. “Not many submissives would be able to guess what I was thinking after such a short acquaintance.”
He dropped his gaze, but not before she saw the pleasure in his eyes at the compliment. He seemed to relax, just a little, but the tension in the room merely doubled in response. Everything seemed to be balanced on a perilously sharp knife’s edge as they each tried to work out if the other was offering what she or he was looking for.
And she knew that she was ultimately the one who would decide if they kept their balance or if someone ended up getting cut. Adjusting her position, she stretched out her legs along the sofa, until her stockinged feet rested against the side of Mark’s leg.
“May I?” he asked, with a glance down at her toes.
Olivia nodded her permission as she took another sip of her drink, curious to see what he might do with the opportunity.
Lifting her right foot, Mark began to carefully massage her sole. His efforts quickly centered on the parts of her foot that her high heels had placed the most strain on.
He looked up every so often, checking her reaction. His desire to please was almost tangible, but the real pleasure he took in the task didn’t so much hang unseen in the air, as rise up very visibly from his crotch. With both his hands occupied, there was little he could do to hide the way his erection tented his trousers.
A touch of color rose to his cheeks. She hid her smile behind her glass and, reaching out with her other leg; let her left foot slide up his thigh until it rested directly over his fly.
Mark’s hands froze. He didn’t look up. He didn’t blink. He didn’t even seem to breathe as he stared down at the way her toes lay against the line of his cock.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, all innocence.
“Sorry, miss.” His hands gradually began to move again, thumbs rubbing circles under her arch.
He had wonderful hands, strong and confident in their work. Olivia had never guessed that there could be so many pleasure centers located in her foot, or that her soles had a direct line to her clit. Behind the soft black fabric of her dress, her nipples pebbled into tight little buds. Just above the lacy tops of her stockings, her slit grew wet.
She allowed him a few seconds to get back his stride before she flexed her left foot. He paused again, but only for a fraction of a second. Even so, he seemed to be having some trouble controlling his breathing as Olivia curled her toes over his tenting fly.
He closed his eyes for a second. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip as he made a bid for self-control.
“You’re very good at this,” Olivia observed.
“Thank—” Mark broke off into a gasp as she ran her toes more firmly over the line of his shaft through his trousers.
“Who taught you?” she asked.
“I took a course in…” he murmured. His bottom lip suffered under his teeth again. No more words were forthcoming.
Olivia smiled. “You like obeying my orders, don’t you?”
Mark stared down at her toes. “Yes, miss, I do.”
“Good.” She took another sip of wine. “Take off your shirt.”
Chapter Three
Mark had been honest when he’d answered Olivia’s question. He was enjoying following her commands. They seemed to sneak straight into a part of his mind that few women knew how to access. His desire to follow the latest one was almost overwhelming. He had to take a moment to pull himself together and make sure his movements were smooth and controlled when he gently placed her right foot back on the sofa.
He put his hand on the arm of the sofa, about to stand up, but Olivia’s left foot pressed down pointedly against his cock. He didn’t have permission to stand. Letting his weight sink back into the sofa, he accepted that restriction without comment and reached for the top button of his shirt. Quickly undoing the fastenings, he shrugged off the garment, folded it neatly, and set it on the floor next to the sofa.
Acutely aware of her eyes on him, he could only hope she liked what she saw enough to want to keep him around for the rest of the evening. Just how much he wanted to remain in her company made him tense.
There was safety in doing scenes with dommes who he had no desire to belong to in the long term, but in that moment, Mark realized that, with Olivia, he was now submitting without any kind of safety net.
If he fell, either she’d catch him or it would hurt—a lot.
Mark tried to calm his nerves, but he wasn’t even in control of his own heartbeat. His pulse raced faster and faster, but he was helpless to do anything about that while he sat half-naked and wholly vulnerable next to Olivia.
A moment passed. She nudged him with her toes. “You may go back to what you were doing now.”
“Thank you, miss.” Mark took the offered left foot and set to work. The muscles in this sole were just as knotted as the first foot he’d worked on. He gave the task his complete attention. She had beautiful feet. Even half-hidden away behind the stockings, they were gorgeous.
His cock grew even harder as he forced himself to resist the urge to bow his head and kiss them without permission.
“Tell me what your interests are,” Olivia suddenly ordered.
He glanced up, so surprised by the question, he didn’t even think before he met her eyes.
“Yes, Mark, you are being interviewed. I wouldn’t have invited you to my room if I didn’t think you had potential. You wouldn’t still be here if we didn’t have chemistry. Now,” she said, very calmly. “I want to know more. First the kinks, then, if you get that far, I’ll want to know who you are in real life, if you’re the kind of man I would like to collar and keep around permanently.”
Mark swallowed several times in quick succession.
“Not many submissives get that far,” she added. She tilted her head to one side as she seemed to think that statement through. Then she smiled. “Not many submissives get
this
far.”
He turned his attention back to the foot massage for a few moments, his mind racing as he desperately tried to find the best words to frame his answer. His interests… Mark frowned slightly. It had been a long time since anyone had bothered to ask, even longer since it had felt important that he get his answer precisely right.
“I enjoy service, miss,” he said slowly, glancing up to check her response.
She nodded her acceptance of that.
He dropped his gaze back to his task just in time to see her lift her right foot and draw a line down the center of his chest with her toes. A shiver ran through him. A moment later, his nipples contracted into tight little peaks as Olivia flexed her toes and brushed them against each dark pink circle in turn.
“I find it hard to believe that’s your only interest,” she prompted.
“I…” Mark closed his eyes for a moment. It was almost impossible for him to think clearly while she continued to tease him. “I want to belong to someone, to know that I’m owned. I enjoy knowing that I’m pleasing someone—knowing that there is only one person I need to please.”
“Keep going,” she said. She pressed down against one pebbled nipple with the tip of a toe, firmly enough to send an extra jolt of adrenaline racing through his body.
He only just held back a whimper. “I want a mistress who’ll love me, even though I’m not offering her the kind of relationship a man traditionally provides.”
As the words hit the air, Mark’s eyes opened very wide. He’d been so focused on what was happening to the rest of his body, he’d completely forgotten to censor the words that left his lips.
He turned to Olivia wondering what sort of apology might save his skin. He opened his mouth, only to close it again without speaking, as he saw the look in her eyes.
“If you’re waiting for me to tell you you’re an idiot to hope for that, you’ll be sitting there a long time,” she finally said. She smiled then. “Dommes are just as capable of falling in love as anyone else, you know?” she chuckled. “We’re just more inclined to make our lovers jump through a few dozen hoops before we even let ourselves think about falling.”
“I didn’t mean to—” he began.
She shook her head. “I’m not in love with you. I haven’t even decided if I want to collar you yet. And I know you’re not in love with me, either. But, let’s face it, whatever happens in the future, neither of us is ever going to fall for the traditional, are we?”
Mark couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He’d been watching Olivia and listening to everything she said to those around her for months. He already felt as if he knew her far better than any other woman he’d submitted to. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d say if he blurted out that he was pretty sure he was more than halfway in love with her already.
Somehow, he managed to keep the words back. His mouth was back under his control. His cock wasn’t.
Chapter Four
Olivia was almost sure she felt Mark’s cock jerk beneath her foot as the seconds passed and their gazes lingered together. She took a sip of her wine, pleased that she’d been so right when she thought she saw potential in him—that had never been more obvious than it was in that moment.
“Take off the rest of your clothes.”
Mark held her gaze for several long moments, as if he thought he’d somehow be able to read her mind if he stared into her eyes for long enough. He had truly beautiful, chocolaty brown eyes. Coupled with his apparently habitual serious expression, they were captivating. Now, if only they were also coupled with obedience…
“Is there some problem?” she asked.
“No, miss.” Finally, he moved to the edge of the sofa cushion. This time, Olivia allowed him to stand. She watched his every movement as he carefully removed his clothes, folded them, and set them neatly aside.
His build was good, with lean lines of muscle clearly visible beneath nicely tanned skin. There was no way he could have effectively hidden his cock or balls away from her gaze. He didn’t even try.
Mark stood before Olivia, completely naked, entirely vulnerable. His shaft curved back toward his stomach, already fully-hard and flushed with arousal. A patch of neatly trimmed dark hairs covered the skin just above the base of his cock, but his balls had been shaved clean.
Olivia reached out with her free hand and cupped them in her palm. There wasn’t even a hint of stubble to be found. She rolled the sac between her fingers, enjoying the feel of it in her grip while she wondered if he’d used wax or a blade to achieve that finish.
Lifting her glass to her lips with her other hand, Olivia took another sip of wine. A bead of pre-cum formed on the tip of Mark’s erection.
“When was the last time you came?”
“Yesterday, miss.” No hesitation now. It didn’t even seem to occur to him to tell her it was none of her business.
“By your own hand?”
“Yes, miss.” His voice was deeper now, full of need and desire. But there was no impatience there, no indication that he had any inclination to take control of the situation.
Olivia smiled as she turned in her seat and settled her feet on the floor between them. Mark breathed a sigh of relief as she finally released his testicles and stopped teasing the sensitive flesh.