Red Handed(57)

“Wow. The pictures are amazing, Cole. I can’t believe how incredible my pussy looks.” She didn’t understand why reviewing pictures of her most intimate body parts didn’t embarrass her but speaking about them did. Squirming on his lap, she flushed and felt her cheeks turn red. She buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“I love when you talk dirty.” His hand caressed her inner thigh, and he nipped her earlobe. “There’s more. Check the screen.”

She angled her head toward the computer. These photos were different. They were still done in black and white, but they were full body shots. The curvy model was clearly in the throes of climax, her torso arched and her head thrown back in abandon. Cole had left her lips in color in addition to the wax. They were red, as if they’d been thoroughly ravaged by her lover. Each picture was a testament to the model’s beauty.

“That’s not me,” she said, confused.

“It is.”

She leaned into the screen to study them. The model wasn’t fat. Sure, she wasn’t skin and bones, but her heavy breasts, rounded stomach, and wide hips were soft and inviting. “You must have altered these images.”

“The only thing I did was adjust the photos to black and white. The rest is you.” He buried his fingers in her hair, cradling her scalp, and turned her to face him. “Has anyone at Benediction said anything about your weight or made you feel anything less than beautiful?”

She thought back to the last few days. “No.”

His hand slipped down to cup her cheek. “The only one who doesn’t believe you’re beautiful is you. Yes, this club caters to the wealthy, and that means an unusually high amount of bodies manipulated through plastic surgery, but is everyone thin? Is everyone good-looking? No, of course not.” He rested his temple against hers. “But you won’t find judgment here, Danielle. Only acceptance. I won’t allow you to leave your training without at least helping you find acceptance of yourself.”

Her throat tightened. For so long, she’d blamed others for her low self-esteem, but Cole was right. The only opinion that mattered was her own. He’d started her on the journey of discovering who she really was, removing the barriers she’d created to protect herself. Even when she left here, she would always cherish being part of a community that had accepted her in every way.

She kissed his cheek. “And I won’t leave without doing the same for you.”

“I accepted who I am a long time ago.”

She echoed her sentiments from last night, hoping it wouldn’t anger him again. “Resigning yourself to a life without love isn’t acceptance. It’s fear.”

He brushed his lips over hers. “I’m going to teach you how to embrace your exhibitionist nature.”

She glided her tongue across his bottom lip. “And I’m going to teach you how to be a voyeur without your sight.”

He gripped her nape and pushed her mouth against his, leisurely tasting and sampling. “It sounds as though we’ve both got a lot of work to do. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

She rocked back and forth on his lap. “Oh, I’m definitely up to it, and from what I feel poking into me, so are you.”

He jutted his chin toward the screen. “I haven’t decided which one to frame for the dungeon. The rest I’m going to hang on the walls of my bedroom, so even when you’re not there, I can masturbate to the image of your pink pussy.”

Her breathing stuttered. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Since you’ve been here?” His lips curved upward. “Constantly. I’m going to need to see a doctor for carpal tunnel.”

Growing wetter by the second, she wanted to play. “Not anymore. Now you can have my pussy whenever you want, Master.” His cock twitched under her ass. “But maybe you could masturbate one last time. For me.”

He raised a brow. “You want to see how I touch myself when I think of you?”

More than anything. “Yes, please.”

He lifted her off his lap. “Sit on my desk.” She situated herself in front of him, the smooth wood cool under her hot skin. Leaning forward, he slid his hands between her thighs and pushed them open. “Keep them spread.” He inhaled and groaned. “God, you smell so good.”

He fell back into his seat and unzipped his pants. Now free from confinement, his cock sprung forth, a bead of semen already pooled at the tip. His gaze remained on her pussy as he swiped his thumb over his glans and drew the moisture around his cockhead in a circular motion before gripping his shaft in his fist and sliding his hand up to the corona, then down to his heavy sac and back up again, pulling the satiny skin tight enough for her to see the bulging veins.