Page 78 of To Catch a Sub

“Do you need to scene?”

“Yes,” she all but sobbed the word. “I just need…I need to give up control.” She blinked tears from her lashes. “At least for a while.”

Landon looked at the empty stage, then back to Colette. “What’s your safe word?”

* * *

Colette was jittery with need.

She’d thought she could handle wearing Landon’s collar. Thought it would make it easier for her to deal with what was going on around her in the club.

She’d been dead wrong.

Landon’s collar made her hypersensitive and hyper-aware of the kinky play and power exchanges all around her. She literally ached with the need to submit.

When the Dom with glasses asked her to help with the scene, her tenuous control faltered.

It had been a sweet relief when Landon arrived, radiating Dom outrage. She was stubborn enough that no matter how desperate she was, she wouldn’t have gone to him. She would have tried to scratch the itch by assisting with scenes.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Rembrandt.”

Landon snorted. “Really?”

“Yes, Sir.”

If Colette were being honest with herself, she’d acknowledge that no one but Landon could give her what she needed.

And that was terrifying.

But not scary enough to make her pull away when he guided her up onto the small stage.

“We haven’t negotiated this scene, or gone over a checklist, so we’ll keep it simple.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Master Landon,” he corrected.

“Yes, Master Landon.”

Or you could just call him Master. It would feel so good.

“Do you know high protocol sub postures?” he asked.

“Some of them.”

“Inspection position.”

Colette spread her legs, bracing her bare feet more than shoulder width apart and stacking her wrists on the top of her head. It felt almost surreal, that the literal years of sexual tension between them might finally be coming to a head.

Landon dropped to one knee in front of her, his hands circling her ankles. She looked down at his dark head and wished she could lace her fingers through his hair.

Palms and fingers skimmed and kneaded their way up her calves. He traced patterns on the sensitive skin at the back of her knees. When he reached her thighs he changed the angle, so his palms were on the front of each leg and his thumbs skimmed her inner thigh.

She gasped when his fingers touched the edge of the neon yellow panties.

“Do you want me to touch you here?”