Perfect Stranger (3 page)

Defying her order, he opened his eyes. Probably a mistake, as his mouth began watering. A dozen options swam through his head before he made a decision on his next move.

“May I pleasure your breasts while you work?”

Her hands stilled on his head. If he wasn’t concentrating so hard, he might have missed her whispered “you may”. But he
was
concentrating, and he didn’t hesitate. With slow, careful movements, he nudged his nose into the valley of her breasts. When he gave her a chaste kiss, her fingers began moving through his hair again. He turned to the side enough to explore the shape of one breast with his tongue. He wondered if she was aware that though her hands didn’t try to direct his actions by moving his head, her body twisted slightly, giving him access to her nipple.

Taking the offering, he pulled the bud between his lips, giving gentle pulses in time with the fingers washing his hair. When she seemed to have moved the suds to her satisfaction and was about to pull free, he bit down gently. Her whole body shivered and her hands fell to her sides. His instincts fought between pushing her to take what he wanted to give, and letting her play out the she scenario she needed to explore. It wasn’t just his ego that led him to believe he could take over the situation, it was the way her breath stuttered, her body leaned into his touch and her toes curled. With some regret, he decided he needed more information to best serve her as a Dom. He let her nipple pull free with a gentle plop, then brushed a kiss across her breast before closing his eyes and resuming his position.

* * *

Dana’s brain took a minute to re-engage. The man in front of her had gone still after launching a burst of tingles through her body. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, careful not to push her breasts into his face. His name was Eric, she reminded herself. She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her. He had nothing to do with the scene she was playing out, not really, but it was her responsibility to make sure she didn’t harm him. It hadn’t really seemed like an issue, since she wasn’t going to be doing any play that could possibly seem boundary pushing, but she knew that any scene could be full of emotional landmines. Ones that could be triggered without the other party having the slightest awareness.

She wasn’t really surprised he’d made a move. He was a Dom, after all, used to topping. The fact that she’d allowed it, hadn’t even protested, and that he was the one who’d stopped it, showed her that though she was determined to play the scene out her way, she was still a sub more used to following orders than issuing them. Not that she’d had a doubt on that score. It wasn’t like she was thinking of switching sides or anything. She just…needed to do this one thing. Needed him to let her do this one thing. After that, she figured she’d fly solo for a while.

“Stand up, tilt your head back.” She didn’t exactly sound commanding, but at least her voice didn’t waver. She relaxed a little bit when she saw that his eyes were closed, as ordered. Resting one hand on his chest so he was grounded, she stepped to his side and reached up to help the water clear out the suds. It was better than staring at his face. Though not much. The feel of his warm skin and hard muscles beneath her hand and the silky strands of his short, almost black hair sliding through her fingers was a temptation nearly as strong as the smooth lips, strong jaw and piercing eyes. Of course, none of that compared to his strong presence, the one that had captivated her from the stage and nearly been her undoing on entering the room.

It had taken a numb determination to disregard all the doubts that began to clamber through her the minute the auctioneer declared her the winner, and make her way to the man waiting for her. She’d managed to grab the leash by doing her best to not look directly at him. The offer of available rooms had nearly overwhelmed her, but she’d seen the description of
decadent full-service bathroom
and taken it. Still, walking into the room with a giant bed had freaked her out. Her body started making assumptions about what she was there to do which were in complete contradiction with her intentions.

Her intentions. It wasn’t like she’d had a real clear idea of what she wanted to do when she’d started bidding. Or when she’d raised the bid, again and again. Or when she’d taken possession of her winnings and selected the room. Wasting some of her precious time, she’d centered herself. Decided what she needed to do. Which she needed to get back to now before she ran out of time, or her Dom ran out of patience. Her heart stuttered a bit on thinking
her Dom
, but she pushed the thought back out and refocused her attentions.

“Okay,” she murmured, her hand guiding his head back to upright. She regretted her completely unspecific order when he not only straightened his neck but opened his eyes. His calm, relaxed body and actions had led her to believe he was in a passive state. His intense, searching gaze proved her very wrong. If she’d had any doubts about his submission, they were quickly dashed away. Sure, he was doing everything she told him to do, but not for anything close to resembling the reasons she herself submitted. Since his submission hadn’t been her goal or even her desire, it shouldn’t scare her. As long as he continued to keep his toppy self in check, they would get through this just fine. And hopefully she’d find a bit of the peace that she was searching for.

Turning her back, she reached for the conditioner, letting her body’s movement mask the deep breath she needed in order to continue. She kept her eyes level with his collarbone when she turned back. “Close your eyes, bend over,” she repeated. He watched her for only a second before complying. This time, instead of holding the handle she’d suggested, or bracing himself against the wall behind her as he had before, he rested his hands on her hips. Her pussy gave a completely involuntary clench. It should have pleased her, to know that she could still be aroused. Instead, it made her feel traitorous. Her lover was recently dead and her body was ready to move on to the next commanding presence she found herself in? Closing her eyes, she brought Harrison’s face to her mind. Let herself sink into the memories of the happy times, the love that she’d had for her Dom, the need that she’d come here to fulfill. One that had nothing to do with sex.

As she moved the cream through Eric’s hair, she pictured Harrison in the hospital bed during that last week. His hair lank and dry, his skin thin and brittle. She moved her fingers through healthy hair and imagined a sick bed. Barely felt the tear slide down her cheek. It didn’t matter though. She was finally getting to do what she’d needed to do. Serving her Master as she hadn’t been able to do when it had mattered most.

Instead of speaking this time, she gave a gentle tug on hair that was dark instead of strawberry blond, guided him back into the stream until the water ran clean. The man in front of her wasn’t bothering to hide the concern on his face, but that was okay. He wasn’t stopping her, wasn’t denying her what she needed.

Leaving him with the spray hitting his shoulders, she turned and made quick work of washing herself and her hair. She turned the water off and stepped out to grab a warm towel from the rack. Again, she started with his feet, taking gentle care with his sex but not lingering. Her mind tried to get distracted with his beauty, but she shoved it aside. He needed her to take care of him, and that was what she would do. The flesh she was drying was taut, not slack with sickness, but she took as much care with him as she would have her lover. If he had let her. She’d seen Harrison dry himself with a vigorous rub many times, and imagined this man did the same, but she patted him gently, blotting the moisture rather than abrading his skin, even though the towel was as soft as any she’d ever felt.

Moving behind him, she stood on the bench so that she could reach his hair without requiring him to bend over. She took her time, gently fisting the strands with the towel until there were no loose drops left to fall. A nudge on his shoulder had him turning towards her. With exquisite care, she used two fingers in the towel to pat his face dry, the concerned, healthy face flashing back and forth in her mind’s eye with that of her dying Master, barely conscious most of the time, but still too commanding for her to defy by giving him the care she so desperately needed to when he’d forbidden it.

She dried Eric’s ears, then behind them, noting the lack of any holes in either lobe. Wiped the towel across his eyebrows. Gently patted his lids and lashes dry when he lowered them closed. Finally she was done. She was careful to use one of the handles to ease her way off the bench rather than brace her hand on his firm shoulder, as she wanted to do. Not daring a look at his face, she took his wrist and led him out of the stall.

The bathroom was big enough that it was comfortably warm and not too humid from the shower. She knelt at his feet again and tapped one until he lifted it so that she could dry the bottoms as thoroughly as the rest of him. When she was done, she rose and stepped back, looked him over to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

What next
? This was as far as she’d managed to plan. It felt…good, right, but not quite finished. Her look lingered on his cock, half erect as it had been through the whole process, and she knew. Though this hadn’t been about sex, her Master’s pleasure was an integral part of taking care of Harrison as she had so longed to do. She wasn’t actually sure if the rules of the auction prohibited a blow job or not. Since she hadn’t been thinking in that direction, she hadn’t bothered to pay much attention, too busy staring at Eric on stage. Well, she’d have to ask permission even if it was allowed, since this was beyond the scope she’d promised him. If it was against the rules, he’d have to tell her so. And if he wasn’t comfortable with it, she’d figure some other closure to the scene.

She made short work of drying herself, then bent over and towel dried her hair briskly. Finished, she tossed their used towels into the hamper and looked at Eric.

She met his eyes briefly, then dropped her gaze to his chin. “May I pleasure you with my hands or mouth?” If she’d tried to talk it out, tried to explain how giving this stranger the care that she hadn’t been able to give her lover was bringing her the relief of closure, she was sure she’d talk herself out of the feeling. Eric was nothing like Harrison in looks, and she hadn’t given him a chance to act like the Dom he was, so she had no idea if he was like her Master in that way. But already she felt better, like she could now imagine moving on, something that had seemed impossible only hours before. It made no more sense than the oppressive guilt she’d been feeling at not being there for Harrison, when he was the one who’d made that decision. Ordered her to let go and stay away.

When Eric didn’t answer right away, she tried to think of what else she could do to end the scene and still fulfill the need she had to take care of him. She hadn’t gotten very far when he interrupted her thoughts.

“You may.”

Excellent. He hadn’t specified one or the other. She could make this work. Finish this and be done. Move on with her life. A life without her Master, but without the ridiculous guilt that ate at her every day, even though she knew Harrison would be angry with her for feeling it. Well, she was doing what she could to assuage it, to stop feeling it, so he would have to get over himself. She nearly laughed at the idea of Harrison looking down on this scene and judging the success of her mission.

A tanned, vibrantly healthy hand started to reach for her, but she gave a sharp shake of her head and took a step back before she could stop herself. He hesitated, then dropped his arm back to his side. No, this needed to go her way. Sure, there was a part of her, a huge part of her, that wanted to place herself into his care, let him take over. But not only wasn’t it what she needed, it would be unfair to him. To expect him to do it right, when she couldn’t tell him what it was that she needed from him. From this.

Taking his wrist again, knowing full well he would prefer that she take his hand, she led him back to the bedroom and the elegant, high-backed wing chair next to the window. She had him sit down and hook his feet behind the chair legs. She lifted his hands over his head so that they lay along the back of the chair. Comfortable, she hoped, but out of her way, and a subtle reminder to him to let her control the action.

He actually gave a little grunt, but then seemed to settle back into the seat. It was cowardly, but she refused to look up at his face. Instead she pulled out the small pillow that was tucked under the side table and placed it between his feet. She checked the drawer, found an assortment of condoms and decided on cherry. Taking a breath, she dropped her knees to the pillow and focused on his cock. It had lengthened, hardened, since she’d asked for his permission to attend to it.

Leaning forward, she smelled the fresh, clean sent of male skin. The tingle of tears began deep behind her eyes, but she figured she had a little time before they came to the surface and escaped. She didn’t want to traumatize the poor guy by crying on his erection, but it was so good to see a healthy man, reacting naturally, and know she was there to take care of it, of him. Making quick work of the condom, she tossed the wrapper on the table and let herself enjoy the treat.

She darted her tongue out teasingly, a lick here, a taste there, until she felt his thighs tighten around her as if he was going to make a move. Then she simply licked him from bottom to top, bringing one hand up to hold him steady and using the other to cup his balls. Another small grunt was the only reaction from him, but he didn’t move. She repeated the action, her pointed tongue as stiff as she could make it until she reached the head, then she flattened her tongue, swirled it around, before dropping her mouth over him as far as she could reach. And she could reach far. She’d taken a deep breath and simply rested at the base of him, smiling as he twitched and lengthened further inside her unmoving mouth.

Finally, she hollowed her cheeks and slowly moved back up his shaft, her tongue gliding along until it teased the underside of his head. Playing there for a few minutes, she massaged his balls carefully at the same time. The tears were staying back, so she rolled her eyes up and risked a look at Eric. He was watching her attentively, his expression serious and not at all lost in the pleasure she was trying to give him. She couldn’t quite decide if that was a good thing or not, so she moved her gaze down his perfect body.