smile lines around his eyes and on both cheeks where his dimples hide.
“I need to talk to you about something. Before you react…” Wes’s eyes stay locked on mine as he rounds the bar and makes us another drink, never pausing in his speech. “…I need you to hear me out. I don’t want you to speak until I’ve finished. Is that understood?” I nod, too afraid to say yes in case he meant from the moment the words fell from his lips.
“Good. I hope that you understand, or it has dawned on you why I was at Chained tonight. Has it?”
My head nods yes again and I maintain eye contact.
“Good. So you understand that I am a Dom. I am dominant in every aspect of my life, my sexual life included. I have, over the last year, dated—well, not so much dated, more like fucked—strictly vanillas. In my mind, if they were kinky enough to allow me to be in total control, allow me to act out my fantasies, as well as feed the sadist within me, there was no reason to visit Chained or seek out a long term Dom/sub relationship. I’ve gone through hundreds of vanillas and quite frankly, Stella, I’m still a fucking starved man. Do you understand?”
Again, I simply nod.
The hand holding his tumbler of scotch stops on its way to his mouth and he points a finger at me around it.
“You, Ms. Reese. I want you.” I watch somewhat fascinated as his lips press against the tumbler before sipping his drink. My eyes follow his hand as he sets his drink down. When he clears his throat, it causes me to quickly look back up into his eyes.
“So. Here’s how this is going to go. I will to test you. I will bend you. I will to push you. Much further than you’ve ever been pushed. Not only on a professional level and a personal level, but sexually as well. My question is: Do you think you can handle me? All of me? Everywhere. I will be inside your mind, your soul, I will scratch so fucking far past your surface that you will be flayed open, exposed to only me.” He picks his drink back up and pauses before taking a sip, keeping his eyes locked on mine over the rim of his crystal tumbler.
He sets his glass down and walks until he’s standing directly in front of me. Using his thigh, he nudges my legs apart first before sliding his hips between my open thighs causing my dress to ride up so high, the question of whether or not I’m wearing panties is clearly visible. His huge hands cup my face before tilting it back until our mouths are only inches apart. His green eyes pierce mine as he declares, “I’m going to consume you, devour you - mind, body, and soul… You will be so immersed in me that I will be the only thing you see, feel, hear, taste, and smell. I’m going to fucking ruin you, Stella, so I ask—are you ready?”
Anxiety is already coursing through me, and every word falling from his mouth is making me more nervous, causing it to become so much harder for me to be able to concentrate.
“Wesley, I’m not—well, first of all, I’m not a sub, or a submissive.” My eyes dart around the room, assessing it for those slider bars, riding crops, and crosses that I read about in my books. However, my eyes can only see so much with both of his huge hands still holding my face. His eyes continue staring into mine, patiently waiting for an answer.
“Stella, have you even considered the possibility that you are?” His hands cupping my face begin to glide down my neck, brushing their way across my chest as they slide over the top of my breast. His large, calloused palms slide over the silk of my dress until he reaches where my skirt is pulled up. The beautiful devious grin he flashes me has me nearly begging for him; all of the promises he laid out moments ago whirling through my mind.
A moan escapes my throat and my head lolls back as his hand slides between my legs until he is sliding over my drenched swollen pussy and sinks a long deft finger inside me. He pulls out and sinks two fingers curling them up as his thumb