Read Second Touch (Emma's Arabian Nights, #2) Online
Authors: Ann Mayburn
Tags: #Emma's Arabian Nights
Second Touch (Emma's Arabian Nights, #2) (19 page)
“My name is Ivan. I am your new Master’s bodyguard, and I will be taking you to him.”
His voice was a deep rumble, like rocks grinding against each other. She was surprised to find herself disappointed he wasn’t the man who had bought her. Attraction arced between them and she looked away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the man who was not her new Master.
Unable to help herself, she took another deep breath of his cologne and her overactive imagination began to conjure all kinds of kinky things. Glancing down at his big hands she tried to imagine what it would be like to be spanked by someone as large as him, or what it would feel like to have all of that weight on her, pushing her into the mattress while he fucked her. Power and strength radiated from him in a way she’d never experienced with any Dom before, similar to the way Master Martin’s presence filled the room but somehow…sharper.
Her nipples drew to hard points and she quickly looked away from him. She’d always had a thing for men’s hands and his were inspiring an almost dizzying amount of lust. He moved his hands so they framed his crotch, and she realized with a start he thought she was staring at his dick. As she looked back up to his face she found him smirking down at her.
Damn, totally busted like some kind of hoochie for checking out a guy who wasn’t her Master.
She was such a lousy submissive.
Something in Ivan’s gaze sharpened, and she looked away, unable to hide from his scrutiny. He removed his jacket and held it out to her, revealing a crisp white shirt that stretched out over his impossibly broad shoulders. “Your Master wishes you to wear this so you don’t get cold. Though your American fall is like the summer in Russia, that little scrap of nothing won’t protect you from the chill.”
Unsure if he wanted her to respond, she simply nodded and let him help her into the jacket. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile that made her heart lurch. With a gentle touch, he draped the heavy coat around her. It hung to almost her knees and held the scent of his cologne and natural musk. She pulled it tight and gave him a grateful smile.
“Thank you.”
“What is your safeword?”
She blinked at him and tugged his jacket closer. “Damascus.”
“Damascus? Like the city?”
“Yes, Sir.” Both men looked at her, obviously expecting more of an answer so she babbled out, “My mother was part Syrian. We would visit there in the summer every other year when I was little.”
The man nodded and took a step back, obviously putting some distance between them. She worried he thought she flirted with him. All she needed was her new Master thinking she was the kind of submissive who would screw anyone that smiled at her.
Ivan gave her another searching look before he turned. She followed, trying to at least walk gracefully. Mistress Viola had once said a submissive should be like a living work of art, graceful and flowing, a pleasure to the eye and touch, a joy to behold.
While she would probably never be anyone’s joy to behold, at least she wouldn’t embarrass her new Master. With the big strides Ivan was taking she wasn’t as smooth as usual. Instead she clutched his jacket around herself and hurried after him. They passed a few other couples on their way through the mansion, including a Master who was rather vigorously fucking his new female submissive on the bottom steps of a set of stairs.
Lucky girl.
All too soon, they reached the front door. Ivan stopped and looked down at her bare feet. Standing this close to him made her feel small, feminine, and vulnerable. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She gave a somewhat undignified squeak and instinctively laced her arms around his neck. The sensation of his rock solid muscle surrounding her was arousing, and made her feel safe even as she scolded her body for responding to the wrong man. She looked up at him as he carried her outside and studied his profile. He had the look of some old time warlord, the kind of man who conquered the world in his spare time.
No, she needed to keep her focus on her new Master, whoever he was. Making herself look away, she studied the drive in front of the mansion and the cars parked there. Ivan headed to the left and tucked her closer to his body as a stiff wind filled with the spicy scent of fall leaves tickled her nose. He radiated warmth and she removed her hands from around his neck before tucking them against his chest.
They reached a black limo and a tall, lean man in a silver suit stood beside it. He had dark brown hair and grey eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. When he spotted her, he didn’t say anything, merely nodded at Ivan and opened the door before getting into the limo.
She pushed at Ivan’s chest. “Please let me go, I need to properly greet my Master.”
Ivan looked down at the pavement then back at her feet. “No.”
Befuddled, she found herself in the limo before she knew it with her new Master sitting at the front near the partition between the passenger section and the driver. She quickly took a seat at the long bench along the side of the limo, unsure if she should sit next to her new Master or wait for him to motion her over. He certainly didn’t appear eager for her to join him. When she smiled and tried to catch his eyes, he looked away. Ivan climbed in after her and took the back seat between the two doors. As they pulled away from the mansion, she wished the week was already over.
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