The Enigma [18+]

nine

content warning: mature content

made my decision
to test my limits

September 16, 2003
|dominic romano|

"You were holding back," the young woman mused, thoughtfully watching Elena's presentation on her clinical research. Dominic's hand rested comfortably and naturally on her knee underneath the white tablecloth. He tightened his grip, moving his touch further up her thigh.

"Myra..." he warned her in a low voice, glancing around the table of his peers. They were focused on Professor Johnson, far too busy jotting down notes to notice Dominic's sinful gaze on his student.

"Tell me... I just want to know why."

"You are in no position to be demanding answers from me, little one. I'll do as I please with you."

She rolled her eyes and huffed. Brat. Dominic decided he'd deal with her later, the conference is no place to bend the young woman over his knees.

Myra tucked her wavy hair behind her ear, and she wrote across her notepad. Dominic could barely decipher her handwriting. She tried to write everything that Elena said, resulting in messy ink sprawled across her page as she couldn't keep up. His lips curled into a smile as he asked, "Could you even read that?"

"Hey, it's not that bad," she faced him.

He glanced at her lips, eyes softening at their swollen state. His stare dropped to the marks on her neck. The older gentleman tried to make sure they were in discreet locations, places that she could easily hide with her hair to avoid any suspicion.

They look marvelous on her.

He couldn't say the same for himself, having to button the collars of his shirt all the way up to hide the purple splotches. If anyone noticed their matching bruises, questions would be raised in a matter of seconds.

"I held back because I wanted to go over a few things with you," he answered softly. "Are you familiar with B.D.S.M.?"

"I am," her cheeks reddened. "I know enough, but I want to learn more from you. I know what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I don't want you to treat me like I'm fragile."

Emboldened by her words, Dominic slipped his hand under the thin fabric of her dress. "How would you like me to treat you?"

"In whichever way pleases you."

"Why? Why do you want to please me?"

Myra only pressed her lips together, her eyebrows furrowed. When she doesn't speak, he made a mental note to revisit the conversation. Instead, he traced nonsensical shapes into her thigh to reassure her.

"You should be cautious with your words, little one. Now, look away. People might think that we're up to something."

Myra turned her attention back to her notes and sighed, his touch grazing over her damp panties. She looked so heavenly with her lips parted, so eager and sensitive to his touch. The needy girl squeezed her thighs together and sighed, rocking her hips forward.