Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
She was quiet a long moment, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she said, “No. If I’m totally honest, it feels kind of…amazing. I feel kind of amazing. Empowered.” She flashed one of those dimpled smiles.
Mason smiled back, delighted with her. “Spoken like a true sub girl. Just think of those marks as badges of submissive courage. And enjoy them while they last,” he added with a chuckle. “With Aubrey’s magic salve, you’ll barely notice them by tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s a good thing,” she replied, twisting back once again to peer at herself.
“Not to worry,” Mason quipped. “I’ll be adding new ones—you can count on it.”
He returned to the tub, which was nearly full. “Climb in,” he said, turning off the tap. “The water’s fine.”
≈
Hannah eased herself carefully into the steaming water, her bottom still quite tender from the caning. The water surrounded her as she settled back against the curved contours of the tub. With a satisfied sigh, she rested her head against the built-in headrest and closed her eyes.
The endorphin-based high from the powerful orgasm coupled with the caning had started to ebb, leaving behind a bone-deep but not unpleasant exhaustion. The soothing scent of lavender mingled with the steam rising above the tub. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall asleep right there in the water…
“You look so comfortable,” Mason said in that deep rumble of his that was definitely growing on her. “I think I’ll join you.”
Hannah’s eyes flew open, her lethargy falling away. She watched, wide-eyed as he casually removed his sexy leather vest. He had a big barrel chest covered in dark curly chest hair. She noticed that the top of his left pec was inked with a detailed tattoo composed of shapes and symbols that radiated from the center outward in a circular pattern.
As he toed off his boots and reached for his leather pants, Hannah forgot all about the tattoo. She forgot how to breathe. His eyes fixed on hers, he unzipped the pants and pulled them down his legs, along with his underwear.
Heat she couldn’t blame on the bath suffused Hannah’s face as she took in the man’s naked form. Her nipples stiffened beneath the water, her cunt tightening. Holy hell, he was built.
Mason was a big man, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. It was muscle—solid muscle. His semi-erect cock was in proportion with the rest of him—long and thick. She tried not to gawk—and failed.
“Like what you see?” he said with a chuckle.
Hannah at once averted her gaze, wishing she could disappear.
Mason settled into the tub opposite her without a trace of self-consciousness as she struggled to regain some semblance of composure. His long, muscular legs stretched out on either side of hers. His sexy arms rippled with muscle as he relaxed them along the sides of the tub.
“Tell me about that tattoo,” Hannah blurted to keep from focusing on his gorgeous naked body. “It looks like some kind of mandala wheel.”
Mason’s hand came up briefly to touch the tattoo. “That’s exactly what it is. Are you familiar with the concept of entering the mandala?”
“Vaguely,” Hannah replied, glad she’d managed to distract them both. “What does it mean, exactly?”
“Mandala is the Sanskrit word for circle. It symbolizes balance, eternity and perfection. In Hinduism and Buddhism, there’s a belief that by entering the mandala and proceeding toward its center, you’re guided through a cosmic process of transforming the universe from one of suffering into one of joy and happiness.”
“Huh,” Hannah mused thoughtfully. “Kind of like BDSM.”
Mason gifted her with a broad smile. “Exactly,” he replied enthusiastically. “That’s what attracted me to the whole mandala concept. BDSM is its own kind of mandala, on a much smaller scale, of course. For a submissive, you move through erotic suffering not only for the masochistic pleasure it affords you, but to experience the transformative process of total surrender to your Master. For a true sub, that brings a joy of its own kind.”
He looked so happy as he spoke, his tone boyishly earnest. Though she wasn’t entirely sure she shared the sentiment, she found herself smiling back at him. “That’s very poetic,” she offered.
He nodded. “And this mandala isn’t just any mandala. Did you notice what’s at its center?”
She leaned forward to get a better look. “Oh, wow,” she said, taking in the triple spiral that made up the hub of the tattoo. “That’s a BDSM triskelion, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he beamed. “Cool, right?”
“Very cool,” she agreed. His tattoos were actually growing on her. They suited him, somehow. And, if she were completely honest, they were hot—a physical manifestation of his sexy bad boy persona. She was just going to ask about some of his other tattoos, but he spoke first.
“Turn around,” he said, his eyes hooding.
“I’m sorry?” she replied, not understanding.
He drew his legs up to give her more room. “I want you to turn your body so your back is facing me.” The earnest, eager boy of a moment before was gone, the stern Master returned.