Free The Inner Room by Claire Thompson Page A

that we know each other outside of the scene and—”
    “No!” she burst out. “I want to stay. Please. Just give me another chance, okay? I can do this. I know I can. Please, Sir?” She looked up at him, her expression beseeching.
    “All right then.” He nodded, barely admitting to himself how delighted and thrilled he was she hadn’t given up. “Lower your arms and step down from the dais. I’ll conduct the physical examination with you lying down. It’ll be a little less stressful for you that way.”
    She nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Sir.” 
    He brought her to the exam table, an old ob/gyn table complete with stirrups. She looked askance at the apparatus. That was supposed to make her more comfortable? She turned to Cam. “You want me to…to lie down on that?”
    “Yes,” he said, unable to hide his grin. He let her failure to address him correctly slide for the moment. “I do believe lying down for an exam is easier than standing at attention, but if you disagree, we can always go back to the dais—“
    “No, no, please. This is fine, Sir,” she said unconvincingly, but she didn’t move.
    Letting a little of his impatience enter his tone, Cam snapped, “Go on. Do as you’re told. You know drill. Take off your shoes. Once you’re on the table, scoot forward, feet in the stirrups.”
    He could actually see her girding herself, her shoulders going back, her chin lifting, her hands curling into fists as she moved to the end of the table and turned so her back was to it. She stepped out of her high heels. In bare feet she only came up to Cam’s collarbone. She would have to lift her head for a kiss, as he dipped his to meet her.
    Idiot. Stop it.
    She hesitated another second, but finally put her palms flat on the table and hoisted herself onto it. She slid back against the smooth leather surface and then scooted forward as instructed, placing her feet in the metal stirrups.
    Cam moved to stand in front of her, positioning himself between her spread legs. Her body was strong and lean, but still had feminine curves in all the right places. He placed his hands lightly on her legs, and he could still feel the tremble in her limbs. He stroked the soft skin of her inner thighs. “Relax,” he soothed. “I am not the enemy, sub girl. I am your Master. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t longing to submit. Submit now to my touch and my command. Close your eyes and breathe slowly.”
    He waited for her eyes to flutter shut. He watched as she dutifully took in a large breath and slowly let it out. “Yes, that’s good,” he encouraged. “In…and out. Slow and easy. Let all resistance flow out of your body. For this moment, you belong to me.”
    He moved his hands along her legs, lightly massaging the firm muscles of her shapely calves, and then moving up again, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin where her legs joined her body, meticulously careful not to touch the delicate, sensual folds of her exposed cunt.
    Not yet.
    He moved around to the side of the table and brought his hands over her stomach and abdomen. Leaning over her, he cupped each breast, and felt the perk of her nipples hardening against his palms. Though he would have enjoyed lingering there quite a bit longer, he lifted his hands to her slender arms and gently massaged her biceps and triceps before sliding down her forearms. He massaged each hand in turn, pressing his thumbs into her palms and stroking each finger until he felt her relax beneath his touch.
    “Lift your arms up over your head.” He was pleased when she obeyed without protest and without opening her eyes. He touched her underarms and she startled slightly, but didn’t wriggle away. Good—not overly ticklish.
    He moved back to stand between her spread knees. Leaning forward once more, he placed his hands around her throat and squeezed lightly. Her eyes flew open, the pupils dilated so wide there was only a ring of blue-green iris rimming them. She gasped, her