He leaned closer and examined it. "Interesting…"
"Why do you say that?"
"It's the most submissive," he said. "She's the most helpless. Unable to move at all, unable to see, or speak. Trusting me completely. Totally under my control."
I considered the photograph for a moment before flipping the page.
"What else do you like?" he said, squeezing me, one hand slipping beneath my sweater to cup a breast.
I found one of a woman on her knees before a nearly-naked Drake in black leather pants. His well-muscled body was gorgeous, enhanced by the lighting. One hand was on her head, her long hair caught up in his fist. She had him in her mouth, her lips taut around the head of his cock.
"This one."
"I like that one too. Why do you like it?"
"It reminds me of your letter. She's on her knees, her hands tied behind her back. Blindfolded. You're controlling her, guiding her by pulling her hair."
I flipped to another one that featured Drake performing anal sex. It upset me but it aroused me at the same time in a perverse way. Was I perverse?
"Do you like that one?"
"I'm ambivalent about it," I said.
"Do you want to try these positions and acts?" Drake said, his voice soft, warm. A little husky as if he was as aroused as I was becoming.
"The other ones, yes. This one? Maybe some day. When I'm ready."
Then, Drake closed the book and put it on the bed beside us. He turned me to face him so that I was straddling his hips, my hands resting on his shoulders. I didn't want to reveal how jealous I was. I glanced down from his intense expression and fiddled with his tie, which had been loosened, the top button of his crisp white shirt undone. I tightened it and then loosened it again, as if undecided.
"What?" he said, tipping my chin so that I had to look in his eyes, which were, of course, way too blue. "What are you thinking?"
I shook my head, shrugged one shoulder, a bit embarrassed and uncertain of whether I wanted to admit it. Finally, I exhaled and leaned in close to him, my lips beside his ear.
"I want you to put your book away," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He pulled back, searching my face, his eyes meeting mine finally. My cheeks were hot.
"You don't need to be jealous. I didn't love them."
"I know," I said. "But they mattered to you."
"I only want to be with you."
"I don't want reminders of all the other submissives you've had. I don't want you looking at those photos."
He said nothing for a long moment, his gaze moved over my face. Finally, he reached up and touched my bottom lip. "Do you want us to make some photographs like those?"
I hesitated, my cheeks heating. "Yes."
"We will. Once we've explored more. I'm sorry that I've never done the whole thing with you. It seemed like I was always waiting for you at 8th Avenue instead of the other way around. And then you always seemed to throw me off my game with your seductive ways…"
I couldn't keep a smile off my face. "What do you mean?"
"You have a way of disrupting my train of thought, Ms. Bennet. My plans all crumble when that happens. I planned on giving you exactly what you read about in my letters, but I failed."
"I know. I felt very cheated. Like false advertising…" I said, pouting. For a moment, he took me seriously but then he laughed.
"I better get it together."
I nodded, smiling at him. "I'd like that. Finally get what I paid for."
He grinned. "One of these nights, we could meet at 8th Avenue. You have a key. I'd want you to wait for me," he said, running a finger across the tops of my breasts, making me shiver. "Naked except for your stockings and garters, your collar and a blindfold. I want you kneeling on a pillow by the bed, your lips parted. I want you nice and wet for me, waiting."
"When?"
"Shh," he said, holding a finger to my lips. "That's for me to decide. I'll text you and let you know."
He pulled me more tightly against him and kissed my neck, his lips trailing down my throat to the swell of my breasts. Then, he kissed me, his kiss soft, his fingers in my hair. Soon, his kiss became more passionate, his lips parting mine, tongue finding mine, making my heart race, my body warm.
I wanted him right then and there.
He unbuttoned my sweater and ran his tongue along the top of one breast, the warm wetness of his tongue sending a chill through me. He rolled down the fabric of one cup, and squeezed my breast, his thumb and finger tweaking the nipple to a hard point. I inhaled when he covered it with his mouth and sucked, his tongue soft against my flesh. The sensation sent little jolts of desire through me and I couldn't stop from groaning.