Alexis sipped the wine she had poured for herself, questioning herself. She couldn't deny to even herself that she did get butterflies in her stomach and tingles down her spine when she thought of doing a scene with Fenton. That didn't mean that she wasn't nervous as hell either. When she was alone, she'd often question what she was really doing at the club.
Did she really want to go through with this? Was it worth it? Could she go about it a different way?
She wasn't sure if she could. Being in the club, seeing people, talking to them and being able to sneak around and plant bugs around was a lot more helpful than just going in as a detective and asking questions. She wouldn't get a word in before all the doms started making up lies in their heads.
This was the only way, even if it wasn't the safest. It was her job and she was planning on seeing it through until the end.
Fenton O'Connell was a suspect for sure, but nothing came from her planting a bug in his office. She only heard things that she had already knew or had suspected, but nothing that involved the case. He was either innocent, or was playing it close to the chest. He hadn't said anything about the vic to anyone, not Seth or Dominick, or even to himself. Sure Fenton talked to himself, but very little was revealed.
It was more like a one sided conversation with himself. It made no sense, but being a dom and taking it as serious as Fenton did, meant that he was probably having a hard time and needed his own time to vent.
Alexis just hoped that part of that venting would come in the form of him revealing details of the murder out of guilt or ratting someone else out, but sadly, that wasn't the case.
She wasn't giving up though.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She put down her wine glass and felt her stomach churn when she saw Fenton's name across the screen.
Hey Red, having a nice night? The text read. Alexis leaned back on the couch and sighed.
Would she ever get used to it? Used to having a dom, even if it was all for show? She doubted it.
I'm doing fine and you? She replied, picking up her wine glass again and downing the liquid, in the hope that it would help make everything a little easier.
Thinking about our upcoming session.
Was he trying to turn her on or was he just being honest about it? She didn't know what to expect from Fenton, which unnerved her, but she also found it appealing a weird way. She liked being surprised. She just hoped that he wouldn't turn out to be full of shit and try to make her his next victim.
What about it?
No spoilers. Though, I do think it would help if you were to send me a picture.
Of myself?
Maybe, if you'd like. I was thinking that it would help my imagination if I knew what you'd be wearing. Bet, I could get real creative.
What was he doing to her?
Maybe it was the wine, but she was actually considering it. She was thinking about going into her bedroom, putting on the sexiest thing she owned and trying it on for him and taking a picture for him. How could he do that with just one text?
Three minutes later she was in her room, digging through clothes, trying to find something just right for the occasion, which wasn't easy. It wasn't like she bought sexy lingerie to wear just for herself. Maybe she'd have to go shopping in the future for her visits to the club. She knew that it would pay off in the end.
In the back of her closet sat a bright pink box and immediately her face started burning. She knew what was in the box and she knew for a fact that Fenton would definitely appreciate seeing her in it.
Kevin had liked seeing her in it and he made that more than clear when he first laid his eyes on her. Alexis bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes and remembering that night. She could almost imagine what it felt like when he ran his hand over the material, the way his eyes clouded with lust as he appraised every inch of her body. Remembering it almost made her all the more happy to put it on again.
She ran her fingers over the material and bit her lip, thinking hard about what she wanted to do. She didn't think about it for a long time, because she was almost certain that she would talk her way out of it and that was the last thing she wanted in that moment.
The rush she might get from sending Fenton such a picture was worth it and she knew it. She quickly tugged down her shorts and pulled off her shirt, making herself free of all clothing. Fenton was going to get exactly what he wanted. If he wanted to get ideas just from a picture, she'd give him something worthy.
The lingerie still fit as it once did. The material was soft and fit her like a second skin. She ran her fingers over it and smiled to herself. Memories of her time with Kevin were playing through her head, but that wasn't going to stop her from making some new ones.
Kevin was the past. She needed to move on and she felt almost bad to think it, but she also wanted to move on, even if it was with someone she didn't know. If that made her a bad person or not, she didn't know, but she was tired of feeling the same way all the time. This was a game changer and she was ready for it.
The lingerie was a deep purple color, a color that at the time was something new for her to wear. Kevin loved the way that it looked with her pastel skin. Looking at herself, she couldn't help, but to think that she looked as sexy as she ever had in a long time.
Or maybe that was just the wine getting to her.
With adrenaline coursing through her body, she laid down on her bed, flat on her back and grabbed her phone. She couldn't chicken out. It was just a picture and she knew that during the scene Fenton was going to be asking her to do more than just take a picture.
She opened up the camera and held the phone above her and took a few pictures. They didn't look horrible, but the lighting wasn't the best, so she readjusted some things. She tried to think of a sexy pose. Would it be dumb for her to smile? Would be better to make a sultry look? How would she do that?
Deciding that she was wasting too much time on such a trivial thing, she decided to do the one thing that she knew always grabbed Kevin's attention. She figured that if it worked on him, why would Fenton protest?
She gripped the phone securely, making sure not to let it fall and land on her face. She stared into the lens and pretended that she was looking directly at Fenton. She lightly bit her bottom lip and took the picture.
She looked like herself, but different at the same time. The picture showed most of what she was wearing and she saw Fenton liking what he saw as she observed the photo. In fear of chickening out, she quickly sent the picture to Fenton. The caption read "Like what you see?"
The next couple of minutes felt like decades to Alexis. She was sitting on her bed, the phone in front of her. She stared at it, almost like she was willing Fenton to respond faster. Had he seen it yet? Had she taken too long and he lost interest? Did not like it?
She was taking deeps breaths and thinking about getting more wine, when her phone buzzed she nearly fell off the bed reaching for it. Her hands were shaking so much that she didn't know how she kept ahold of it.
What's not to like, Red? Can't wait to see it in person.
Alexis smiled to herself. Fenton didn't know, but this was a big step for her. She just hoped that she could keep pushing herself. Not just for her own selfish urges, but for the victim as well. That was the only thing that mattered.
Fenton met her outside the club. She kind of hated how perfect he looked in his three-piece suit, casually leaning against the brick outside the entrance.
"Hey, pretty girl." He grinned when he saw her approach.
"Hey."
"You ready?"
She nodded, suddenly feeling nervous.
He smirked, then leaned close, reaching out to brush her hair off her shoulder. "Let's have some fun."
He led her inside the club, his hand a barely-there pressure on the small of her back. Alexis expected him to lead her back to his office, but instead he took them down the hallway from the office, stopping in front of the last door on the right.
"What's this?" she asked.
He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. "The executive perks." He pushed the door open, revealing an opulent-looking bedroom. A huge four-poster bed took up most of the space in the room, though there was nothing but ivory-colored sheets on the mattress.
Her gaze danced around the warmly lit room to a spanking bench with shiny black leather, and she could see several points on the ceiling where restraints could be hooked in. The floor was a burnished golden-brown hardwood, and thick area rugs were strategically placed around the room.
"It's a bit nicer than the playrooms downstairs, isn't it?" Fenton grinned.
"I'll say," she said, stepping further into the room. An aromatherapy infuser in the corner was piping a subtle, soothing fragrance into the air. Vanilla, perhaps?
She saw an assortment of items spread over the bedside table. "What's all that?"
His hands rested on her shoulders. "Just a few things for our session. You'll like them."
"Will I?" She hoped her voice didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
"You have your safeword," he reminded her. "What is it?"
"Red."
"That's right." He tugged on one of her curls and turned her to face him. "Are you ready to begin?"
With a deep breath to steady herself, she nodded.
"I'm gonna need a verbal response, gorgeous."
"Yes."
"Lesson One: During our scenes, the proper way to address me is 'Yes, Sir,' or 'Yes, Mr. O'Connell.' Okay?"
She nodded, then caught herself. Heat colored her cheeks, and he smirked at her. "Yes, Sir," she said softly, not sure if she liked the weight of it on her tongue.
"Good girl."
Alexis began unbuttoning her coat, feeling oddly like she was conducting some sort of business. She supposed she was, in a way. "So, where do you want me?"
He caught her hands gently, though she'd already finished with the buttons and her coat now hung open a few inches, offering a peek at what she was wearing. "Lesson Two: You wait to move until I tell you otherwise. Got it?"
Alexis' head cocked to the side. "So you just boss me around the whole time?"
He shook his head. "It's a power exchange. Surely you know that by now."
She shrugged. "I never got this far. You know that."
"I never got this far, Sir," he corrected her.
She bit her lip, then let her hands rest by her sides. Fenton smiled at her compliance and slid the coat down her arms. He whistled low at tight-fitting dress hidden beneath the coat. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"
"Thank you, Sir," she tried. This seemed like an awful lot of work to remember all of Fenton's rules.
He hung her coat on a hook near the door, then turned back to her, looking every bit like a predator stalking its prey. "That dress is fantastic, but I think it needs to go."
Shock unfurled down her spine. "What?"
"I need you exposed for what I have planned."
She shook her head. "Absolutely not."
"Just the dress and your shoes," he explained. "Keep everything else on."
All that left her was her simple dark blue bra and matching underwear. Nowhere near enough coverage. And not even sexy lingerie, for that matter. "Fenton, I didn't sign up—"
"If you wanna dip your toes in the subby pool, then this is how you do it." He reached out and touched her cheek. "I'm not going to touch you anywhere you don't want me to, Alexis. I promise."
"But—"
He pulled her face back to meet his eyes. "Do you trust me to keep that promise? Yes or no?"
She bit her lip. Her shoulders slumped a bit and she nodded.
"Say it, pretty girl."
"Yes, sir. I trust you to keep your promise."
"Good girl," he praised. "Now turn around."
Hairs rose on the back of her neck as he pushed her hair out of the way and slowly unzipped the skintight dress, like he was unwrapping a present. The dress hit the floor around her ankles, and she gasped when she felt his warm lips against the nape of her neck. Despite the strangeness of every new thing Fenton was springing on her, warmth began to pool low in her belly.
"These should have been healed by now," he said softly, letting his fingertips trace over the back of her thighs. While most of the welts had faded to a sickly yellow-green color, a few spots were still a fresh dark blue.
"I, um…" she swallowed, distracted by him touching her bare legs, touching all those patches that crossed pleasure and pain into sharp sensation. She thought of the way Javi had handed her ass to her on the sparring mats three times that week. "I take self defense," she lied.
He paused at that, looking at her with an expression she couldn't identify. Did he know she was lying? He always seemed to.
But Fenton let the lie stand. "Keep practicing."
He helped her step out of her heels, then turned her to face him. Alexis fought the urge to cover herself. Her hands twitched with a need to cover her breasts, her stomach, every patch of skin that she usually reserved for her eyes only.
His eyes trailed over her frame for a moment before snapping back up to meet her gaze. Heat colored his cheeks, too. What did this man have to blush about? "You're beautiful," he said simply.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Not a very fast learner, are you?
It was her turn to blush. She was sure she looked like a tomato. "Thank you, sir."
"Good girl. Now, I'm not going to touch you anywhere that you're wearing clothes. Everywhere else is fair game. Are you comfortable with that?"
Relief almost swept her off her feet. Her legs, her arms, her stomach and back. Javi probably got more than that, accidentally, of course, during their sparring sessions.
"Yes, sir."
"Good," he smiled and took her hand, leading her to the massive bed. The cool air wrapped around her skin, and she was suddenly aware of how free she felt. Exposed, but free.
"We just have a couple more things to talk about," he said. "I'd like you to lie down on the bed, and while you're there, I'd like to use restraints and a blindfold."
Alexis stopped. He was asking her to give up her sight and her mobility. Be completely helpless. Totally vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do to her.
"The restraints are for your safety. I don't want to accidentally touch you inappropriately or hurt you because you're moving."
It was a logical enough reason. "And the blindfold?"
He gave her a small, rueful smile. "That's to enhance the sensations. And to force you to give up control. I won't touch you anywhere we haven't negotiated, and I'm not using impact play in this session. I'm not using this to take advantage of you. I want you to have a satisfying, safe time with me. Can you trust that I mean that?"
Alexis took a deep breath to steady herself. God, what had she gotten herself into? "Yes, sir. I trust you mean it."
His fingers combed through her hair in one sweet stroke. "Good girl. Thank you for your trust. Go lay down in the middle of the bed. I want you on your back."
She followed his command, nerves churning in her stomach. Fenton made quick work of the restraints under the mattress, securing them tightly enough that she was spread-eagle, but made sure to check and double-check that she was comfortable. He stroked his hand up and down her calf after he secured the last restraint. "You still with me?"
"Yes, sir," she breathed.
Next came the blindfold, and Fenton was very careful to not get her hair caught in it. His thumbs caressed her cheekbones after he took away her vision. "Good girl. You're doing so well."
His praise calmed her nerves somewhat.
"I'm going to touch you now, pretty girl," he said quietly. "All you have to do is let yourself feel it."
Not for the first time, Fenton wondered how Kevin could have ever been stupid enough to let Alexis go.
The detective on his shoulder glowered at that thought, but Fenton didn't take it back. His eyes slid over the redhead stretched out on the mattress. All smooth, creamy skin, and lean, toned muscles. He was particularly interested in a cluster of freckles just about her right hip. He wondered what they'd taste like.
He'd find out. Later. First he had to get Alexis sweet and soft and pliant, just how he liked her. He slid his arms out of his jacket, hanging it next to Alexis' coat. Then he rolled up his sleeves and picked up the bottle of massage oil from off the end table and took a seat at the end of the mattress.
Alexis was breathing shallowly from her place on the mattress. She jumped a little when his oil-slicked hands made contact with her foot.
"Easy," he soothed. His hands moved efficiently over her feet, kneading into her arch in a way that made her gasp and melt into the mattress. Then his fingers found her big toe, kneading into that pressure point with unapologetic firmness.
He was rewarded with her gasp and the way her hips lifted off the bed just an inch or so.
"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked, repeating the motion on her other foot.
"Y-yes," she panted.
Fresh color was seeping into her cheeks, and Fenton smirked. His thumb drew circles into the sole of her foot. "Yes, who?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl."
He moved up her legs, occasionally applying more oil. His fingertips teased over her bruises as he lifted her thighs off the mattress, one then the other, planting her feet on the mattress so her legs were slightly bent. He hadn't given her too much slack on the restraints, but he intended to use the mobility she did have.
His hands kneaded their way up her thighs and inward to the crease of her legs. He noticed her breath shorten and her body stiffen as his fingertips traced the crease of her thighs, right next to the line of her underwear. He let his fingertips knead just a little harder in that junction, and she panted and squirmed beneath his touch.
And then he moved upward, his hands spreading oil over her abdomen, her chest, the parts that her bra didn't cover, at least, and her shoulders.
He massaged up and down her arms, taking the time to lavish attention on each individual finger. He didn't take too much time to dwell on the rightness of her slightly smaller hands in his own. That was a thought for another time, or better yet, he could ignore it altogether.
"How are you doing?" he asked conversationally as his hands massaged their way up her neck and into her hair.
"Mmm," she hummed. Then, quickly realizing she hadn't answered him correctly, she added. "Good, sir."
He grinned. "Tell me more. How do you feel right now?" He suspected she wasn't much for dirty talk. He intended to change that. His fingers wrapped around strands of her hair and pulled lightly. He watched goosebumps rise on her skin.
"R-relaxed," she moaned, not sounding relaxed at all.
"Is that all?" he asked, continuing the teasing torture until she began to visibly squirm.
"Feels good," she added, her voice breathy.
"Mm," he agreed. He freed him fingers from her hair, letting the pads of his fingers slip down her pale throat. He ignore the urge to wrap his fingers around her neck and give it a gentle squeeze. She wasn't ready for breath play. It wasn't the kind of thing you did during your first session, and he was determined to make this first session both memorable and positive for her.
He reached for his next sensation tool. "You ready for more, pretty girl?"
"Yes, sir."
God, that response was enough to send all the blood in his body straight to his cock. He gently placed the slippery ice cube in the valley between her breasts, and she squeaked, her body jerking against the restraints.
"Easy," he soothed. "Let yourself feel it." He drew the ice cube in an arc up her chest, skirting the edges of the cups of her bra, almost growling in satisfaction as her nipples puckered against the thin material. She gasped at the sensation, and he dragged the rapidly melting cube up the column her throat and back down.
The remainder of the ice cube following a matching path over her breasts, and he let it slide between them, down to her stomach. He lazily guided the cube down her stomach, dipping for just a moment into her navel. Alexis gasped, tossing her head from one side to the other. Her cheeks were a delicious shade of pink, and Fenton bit his lip, enjoying the mental imagery of all the other ways he could pinken her face as the ice cube traveled down to her hips and over that patch of freckles.
There was little more than an ice chip left by that point; her body heat had done a thorough job of melting the cube down as it teased her sensitive skin. The tiny piece of ice settled against the waistband of her panties, and, with his hands braced on her hips, Fenton lapped the shard up with his tongue, all too aware of the subtle scent of desire emanating from her core. His darling girl was clearly affected by what he was doing to her.
Alexis shuddered as his tongue dragged over her skin, and Fenton wondered how long it had been since she'd been touched in any sort of intimate way.
"You like that, pretty girl?"
"Um.." She seemed to struggle with the question.
He lifted his head from her body. "Yes or no. You have to talk to me."
"Y-yes."
"Hmm." His thumbs pressed into her hips, startling her with the intensity of the sensation. He held tight as her hips jerked in his grip, then eased the pressure, drawing gentle circles over the ridge of bone on either side. "You gotta do better than that, sweetheart. I wonder how we can get this lesson to stick."
His mind provided a solution, and Fenton bit back a groan at the image of the redhead facedown on the mattress, tugging at her restraints, gasping and moaning as he spanked her until her ass was bright red and her pussy was soaked. "I'm being very patient, pretty girl. You know what I normally do to a disobedient sub?"
She shook her head, biting her lip to stifle a sigh as his fingers stroked up and down her sides.
Fenton leaned in so her body was prone and vulnerable underneath him. "I spank them. Would you like that, pretty girl?"
She paused for a moment, holding completely still. God, he wished he could see her eyes. Wished he could tell whether they were dilating in desire.
"I…" Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. "I don't know."
He was tempted to slip his hand beneath her ass and give it a firm squeeze, to brace his thigh between her legs and let her rub off some of the tension that was pooling inside her, to rut against her and find some kind of relief for the hard-on he'd been sporting since she'd walked into the room.
Christ. He was playing with fire, and they were both going to end up burned. Fenton backed off of her, reaching for the low-heat taper candle sitting on the side table. He lit the candle and watched as the wax began to soften.
"Tell me how you like this," he said softly, tipping the candle down so that bright red wax splattered onto her chest.
Alexis gasped, jolting upright as much as she could. Fenton laughed. The wax wouldn't burn her skin, but it would feel very hot, especially in all those places the ice cube had cooled.
He poured a little more onto her body, creating a trail between her breasts. "Fenton," she cried. Her fingers clenched and unclenched into a fist. He probably should have reprimanded her for not addressing him properly, but he loved the way his name sounded on her lips.
He coated her chest in lines of wax, moving down to her stomach, hips, and thighs. Alexis rewarded him with more of those gorgeous noises, the way she turned his name into a plea. And if he "accidentally" let some of the wax drip onto her underwear and the peaked nipples showing through her bra, then that was all the better. Alexis had bucked her hips, gyrating against nothing, and Fenton was sorely tempted to flatten his tongue against the dampness of her panties and let her rut against him until she'd had her fill.
Instead, he let his lips find that cluster of freckles above her hip and his tongue explored that particular patch of skin. "Fenton," she gasped, tossing her head back and forth.
He nipped her hipbone in response, and her cry turned moan had his cock threatening to break the zipper on his slacks.
His mouth trailed lower, stopping at the boundary of her panties. She squirmed beneath him, pulling at the restraints on her wrists and ankles.
Fenton held her shaking thighs open and blew cold air onto her cloth-covered sex. Her hips rose off the mattress with a whine.
Christ, he wanted nothing more than to bury his head between those gorgeous legs. He palmed his cock, doing whatever he could to maintain his level of control.
"Please," she whined. "Please, Mr. Connell."
His surname on her needy lips sent his head spinning and he became acutely aware of the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the color in her cheeks, the wax that had cooled and hardened against her skin, the way her stiff nipples strained against the thin material of her bra like an invitation, the subtle scent of her desire wafting up from between her legs. A fresh wave of possibilities washed over him: wrapping his lips around those hard nipples, slipping a single finger beneath those panties and feeling her soft, wet flesh, taking his needy cock out of his slacks and painting her skin with something other than wax.
"Please!" She groaned, straining against the restraints, tossing her head back and forth. Did she have any idea how phenomenal she looked? Did she even know what she was asking for?
Using willpower he didn't know he had, Fenton stepped back, taking several long, deep breaths as Alexis writhed on the bed. He rubbed his face, looking for some kind of center. Some reason to not push things further. Christ, if he'd known she'd be this responsive…
"Please, Mr. O'Connell," she begged. "Please, please, please."
He stepped up near her head, and smoothed her hair away from her face.. "What do you want, pretty girl?"
"Please," she breathed. "Please, I need…"
"What do you need?"
"Touch me," she whined. "I… please… just… touch me." She gasped like she'd been running a marathon. "Please Fenton."
Something sinful turned over low in his belly, and he cupped her chin roughly. "Oh pretty girl, when are you going to learn?"
In record time, he unsnapped her restraints and flipped her onto her stomach. He yanked her body to the edge of the mattress so that she was bent in half, ass in the air, bare feet on the floor. One hand held her wrists behind her back, and the other held her by the nape of her neck. Rather than become startled, Alexis seemed even more turned on by his possessive act. Her hips ground against the mattress, seeking stimulation. It belatedly occurred to Fenton that maybe she wanted him to punish her, and he grinned at the prospect.
He leaned over her body, taking the opportunity to grind his almost painful erection against her ass. "You wanna try again, gorgeous? Show me the proper respect?"
"Please, Fenton." Her ass rotated against his erection, and for a moment he saw stars.
He gritted his teeth. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
He removed his hand from the back of her neck and cupped one soft, panty covered cheek. His fingers brushed over her skin and he gripped that handful of flesh hard, a warning of what was to come.
Her head lifted off the mattress with a tiny yelp of pain, real pain, and he felt her body stiffen beneath him. His eyes skittered down to the purple and blue flesh his fingers were digging into.
Fuck. The dark colors were like a bucket of cold water on his lust. He let go of both her ass and her wrists, immediately stroking her back, smoothing the hair out of her face. "Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded, still pressed against the mattress. Fenton sighed in relief. Shame curling around the edges of his psyche for allowing himself to fall into that primal headspace.
She continued to squirm beneath him, still needy, clearly not hindered by his screwup. "Please," she begged."
Aftercare. He'd been the one to wind her up, and he needed to be the one to ease her back down. His hands closed around her shoulders, lifting her upright. "Stand up," he said quietly.
He led her over to an armchair in the corner, and pulled her into his lap. This was better. He'd be less tempted to throw out the rulebook.
"Just breathe," he said. He guided her to rest her head in the crook of his neck, and helped her curl into a comfortable position in his arms.
"Please," she repeated, still lost in that headspace of desire and submission. Her fingertips found his jaw, touching his face, his chest, anything to sate her need for contact. Christ, she was one of the most beautiful subs he'd ever seen.
"Just relax, pretty girl." He stroked her hair, taking deep, measured breaths himself. He needed to calm down, too. He'd never lost control in a scene like that before. He'd never been so close to breaking his own rules, breaking the promises he'd made to his scene partner. When he'd asked for her trust, he hadn't realized how tempting the redhead would be, how heavy the responsibility would be to stay within those negotiated terms while she was so lost in sensation.
After what seemed like an eternity, Alexis softened, melted into his embrace. He felt the tension and need slip out of her frame, and she curled closer to him. He rested his head against hers, and he heard her sigh. That made him happier than it should, and he chose to shove it to the back of his mind, right next to the detective inside his head who was likely having a heart attack.
How long had it been for her? How long had it been since she'd been touched? How long since she'd been fucked? Despite her misgivings, once they'd gotten going, she'd seemed to soak up the attention. Hell, she'd loved it.
Kevin's memories told her that it had been over a year since the last time he'd heard about her being intimate with someone. Surely that wouldn't have been the last time though.
Alexis lifted her head, causing Fenton to do the same. She pulled the blindfold off, and her large blue eyes were so glassy and sweet that he forgot to reprimand her for not asking permission to remove the blindfold.
"Hey, pretty girl." He smirked at the blissful expression on her face.
"Hey." Her voice was a little rough, likely from the vocal workout he'd given her during their session
"You want some water?" he asked.
She cleared her throat. "Yes, please."
"Coming right up." He helped her off his lap and crossed the room to the supplies he'd laid out for their session. When he turned back with the water bottle in hand, she was picking her dress up off the floor and slipping the straps over her shoulders.
"Here." He handed her the bottle to hold and carefully zipped the dress back up. Though it didn't cover much, he supposed it was better than being undressed. Still, he was a bit disappointed to see those layers and walls going back up and their scene ending.
"Thanks," she said, taking a sip.
"Do you want to sit down?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not here."
Confusion spread through him. "Um, my office then?"
She nodded, not quite meeting his eyes, and he led her out of the playroom and back to the office.
Once again, Alexis found herself perched on the edge of the chaise, the half-empty bottle of water still held in her hands. He draped a soft blanket over her shoulders and took a seat across from her on the ottoman. His eyes searched over her like he was figuring out a puzzle.
"We should probably talk about that scene," he said.
Alexis suppressed the urge to sigh. She didn't know what to make of all the things that had happened in the playroom, but she didn't love the idea of talking through them with Fenton, the assumed criminal she was supposed to be using for information on her case.
Looking back at everything, Alexis couldn't believe she'd reacted that way. She'd fully intended to fake her way through the scene, giving Fenton a good enough response to convince him that she actually was a sub looking for a fix. And then, after playing her role, she'd ask him more about his organization. About the people at the club. About the drugs she was certain he distributed. It would have been seamless.
Instead, she'd completely lost herself.
She'd stopped thinking about her job, her mission, her purpose at the club, hell, she'd even forgotten her own sense of basic decency. All at the hands of Fenton O'Connell. It was like he knew exactly what would feel best to her, he knew how to make her fall to pieces and get lost in everything but his touch. It was stronger than any drug. Alexis was certain that by the end, by the time she'd started pleading, she could have come from just a single pass over her clit.
This was what she got for letting him touch her. This was why she didn't, couldn't, let anyone touch her. The second she did, she lost all sense of herself. It was like when she'd betrayed Kevin all over again. Only this time, she'd betrayed herself.
"Hey." Warm, gentle fingers slid under her chin, tilting her head up to look him in the eye. "Whatever you're thinking right now, stop it."
"I… what?"
"Enough." He gently tapped on her forehead. "I can see you dropping."
"I'm fine. I'm not dizzy or anything—"
"That's not what I mean. You just experience something very… intense. Something probably very new to you. And maybe you reacted in a way that you didn't expect. I think we should talk about it. It might help."
"It was new to me," she agreed. "I'm not the type to mess around with men I don't know." She looked up at him, fearing the judgment she knew she'd see on his face. "It must not seem that way to you, but it's the truth."
"You don't need to be embarrassed," he said softly.
She covered her face. "I'm mortified."
She could hear the frown in his voice. "Why? Didn't you like it?"
Slowly, she nodded. She'd loved it. She hadn't felt so desired and cared for since she'd been with Kevin.
"Say it, pretty girl." Fenton found it all to easy to slip into that dark, sensual persona, or maybe that was just who he was. Either way, Alexis found it all too easy to respond to him.
"I liked it."
"What did you like about it?"
"It felt good. Really good."
"Even the ice?" He adjusted the blanket that had begun to slip off of one shoulder. "And the wax?"
Reluctantly, she nodded. "It erased everything but what I was feeling. I couldn't think. I couldn't worry. It just… made me feel free." She dared to glance up at the expression on his face, and her stomach dropped. He stared at her intently, again like a puzzle. Like what she was telling him didn't make sense.
"It's been a long time since anybody's umm… well, anything," she blurted out. "I'm sorry if I was… I'll do better next time." She looked back down at her lap, that mortification returning in full force.
Instantly, Fenton tilted her head back up, leaning into her slightly. "How long?" he asked, sounding almost angry.
"A year."
She saw surprise flash through those honey-brown eyes. "It's been a year since you've slept with someone?"
She shook her head. "No, it's been a year since I've let anyone touch me like you did."
"In a power dynamic? Like, the restraints and all that?"
"Um." Now she felt nervous. "No, I mean, the way you had your hands and—and your mouth on me. It's been about a year since anyone's…" she trailed off at the expression on his face.
God, she regretted telling him that. He was looking at her like she was some kind of freak.
He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "Um… that's…"
She waited for what seemed like eternity for him to come to some sort of conclusion about just what "that" was. He didn't seem to know how to respond. Maybe he thought she really was a freak. She was an idiot for trusting him to understand her.
She took a final sip from the water bottle. "Anyway, its all new. So thanks for taking good care of me." She stood up, letting the blanket fall back onto the chaise lounge behind her. "I should probably get going."
He reached out and caught her wrist. "Do you want to do this again?" he asked. There was still an air of uncertainty around him. He still didn't know what to make of her little revelation.
"Do you?" she asked, hating how insecure she was feeling.
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "But that's not what I asked."
She bit her lip, then nodded. "I want to do this again. Um, same time Friday?"
A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, almost looking like the Fenton she'd come to know. "It's a date."