Free Training Her Curves - Geneva (A BBW Billionaire Domination and Submission Romance) by Christa Wick

supposed to be so emotional? It hadn't looked that way in the pictures or the small glimpses I had caught on screen of Jake and Alexa's club scene in Miami. Sensual, hot as fuck, yes and double yes. But this felt like I was watching a damn tragedy unfold.
    "So perfect I don't need to test you, mold you, analyze you," he said, revealing yet another voice I had never heard as he eased the hand and forearm I had kept pressed against my breast over to the last cuff on the bar. "I get to experience you, soak you in...I've never had that."
    Worship? Reverence? Was that the emotion his voice carried?
    Done tightening the leather strap around my wrist and extending the bar, Dylan stared at my face as he worked the controls that lifted my hands as high above me as they would go without injuring the joints. He moved to a side drawer, the whisper of wood on wood the only indication that he had pulled it open. The meticulous order of his desk's interior and surface in Chicago flashed through my mind. Whatever the drawer below me held, I knew each item would be separated by a space the width of his thick thumb. There would be only one row per drawer, maybe even only one item per drawer.
    Consistent, precise, often glacial in his pace and demeanor -- his little blond-haired magpie must have felt like chaos to him that first meeting. Maybe even there in the house he had purchased for us, every other room empty, he still saw me that way.
    In silence, he moved to my left foot. I saw the silver flash of small scissors and then he began cutting along the side seam of my dress pants. The closer he got to the top of my thigh, the more tense I became. The scissors were sharp, with tips almost as narrow as a needle.
    But I trusted him and so I forced myself to relax.
    Circling to the other side of the table, he started on the right outer seam. The steel didn't touch my skin, neither did his flesh, not even the barest brush of a knuckle. He pulled the ruined pants from my body then tossed them over his shoulder like he was discarding a piece of notepaper from one of his ledgers.
    Slowly, he exhaled, his attention on the silk panties, the eggshell-colored fabric darker between my legs where the juice of my arousal had soaked through. As careful as any surgeon, he brought the scissors to the bottom panel that covered my labia. He cut through the fabric with small, precise snips that had me trembling.
    Dylan placed the scissors on the table. I felt the edge of a handle, the metal warmed by his touch. Folding the forward segment of the panel up, he stared at my flexing pussy and thighs. My skin was saturated, a condition he accented when he pressed three fingers against the seam of my lower lips and rubbed the cream around -- between the thick, pouting labia, the bend of my thighs, down my perineum...
    With a sharp cry, I lifted my ass off the table. I had been heart sick no more than five minutes before and he already had me levitating from the threat of my first climax.
    "Down, love," he said, his palm cupping my mound and exerting pressure.
    I couldn't have held the position no matter what my desire. I collapsed onto the padded leather surface and blew out a strained breath. Smiling benevolently, Dylan took up the scissors once more.
    This last cutting of fabric, the one that halved the front panel of the underwear, I felt the progress of the scissors -- because he wanted me to. Never the blade, just the curve of the handle and the flat of his fingernail. Up the line of my cunt, the metal a hard tongue caressing my clit, then the last of the distance to the top band of elastic as the heel of his hand wedged firmly between my lower lips.
    I cried out again, the last thin strand of my sanity keeping me from thrusting upward as the scissors made their final snip.
    Leaving the cut fabric in place, Dylan returned the scissors to their drawer. He came back to my right side and unfolded the irreparably damaged panties like he was unwrapping a Christmas