Free Second Touch (Emma's Arabian Nights, #2) by Ann Mayburn

him feel at once proud and humbled. Proud because he’d earned her trust enough to have her claim him, humbled because the act of Emma placing her trust in him was a priceless gift. It was an odd dichotomy that he couldn’t explain, even to himself, but that was how he felt.
    On a more primal level, those wrist cuffs were not only her physical claim on him, but his on her as well. He belonged to her, in a way that no one else did. While he was new to the BDSM scene he was aware enough of the dynamics to know that the exchange of power was a double-edged sword. As much as he craved a public mark of her ownership, she needed to mark him, to let other Dommes know that he was off limits. When he looked up at her, the soft, sensual smile on her lips made his cock ache, and the erotic, possessive fire in her striking eyes seared him to the bone.
    “Can you put them on?” he said in a thick voice.
    Emma studied him then gentle understanding filled her expressive face. “Of course.”
    After she strapped on both cuffs, he held out his wrists and flexed his hands, liking how they looked on him, and liking even more that they were a visible symbol of the claim Emma had on his heart. “Thank you, Mistress.”
    She took a step away before retrieving a pair of red patent leather heels from the small closet and slipping them on. “Ready?”
    “Yes, Mistress.”
    During the car ride to Moira’s house they’d talked about normal things, Ryan’s job, his family, her experiences being a substitute teacher, and mutual friends from high school. It was nice to relax with her, and he found himself laughing more than he had in a long time. She had a razor sharp sense of humor and a dry wit that he greatly enjoyed. Finding a woman sexy enough to interest him was easy, but finding a woman smart enough to challenge him was much harder. The fact that Emma was both sexy and intelligent left him feeling like the luckiest man on earth.
    They made the final turn into Moira’s neighborhood and Ryan let out a low whistle at the sight of all the massive, stately Victorian homes on large expanses of land graced with old-growth trees. “Nice.”
    Emma grinned. “Moira inherited her house from her grandmother, though I bet the judgmental old bitch is turning over in her grave at the kind of events happening there now. Her place is two more down on the left.”
    He pulled into a long, winding drive that went through tall privacy hedges and led to an elegant Victorian mansion painted in shades of tan, deep purple, and cream. It was a beautiful home and lights burned behind all the windows, giving it a cheerful glow. Cars were parked all along the side of the road and the circular drive so he eased his Camaro in behind an SUV and parked. Emma reached out and grabbed his hand, her expression clearly troubled as she studied him.
    “You sure about this?”
    “I’m sure, stop worrying. I trust you. Hopefully, you trust me enough to know that I would tell you if something bothers me.”
    “I just don’t want you doing something because you have the misguided notion that blindly following orders would please me. I need you to be honest with me Ryan, without worrying that it’ll make me mad. What will make me angry is if you lie about wanting to try, or do something, when you really don’t. You’re more important to me than any kink or fleeting pleasure.” She flushed and looked away, then when she turned back her gaze hardened and she squeezed his hand tighter. “I will know if you’re lying. Ryan, believe me when I say I will know. I’ve been a pro Domme for a number of years now and I’ve gotten very, very good at reading submissives.”
    He brought her small hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles as he spoke. “Emma, I’m not exactly innocent. I did have a sex life before you, and I have done some things that might make you blush.”
    She tried to pull her hand away. “I highly doubt that, but even if you did I don’t want to