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Ira takes my hand and guides it to my wet slit. Shit, I’m so wet. I didn’t realize it, even with the sounds and sensations she gave me only a few seconds ago. Yet I feel it now. My wetness and arousal coating my fingers.

She pulls my hand between her legs. I instinctively sink my finger between her hot and slick folds. It was all part of her master plan, wasn’t it? Because she comes again. On my hand. On me. In me, for all I know. Panic arises that is quickly quelled with a tender kiss on the shoulder.

Something happens. My mind slips into a post-sex coma that is mediated with a hug and a whisper in the ear.

“We’ll start your training soon, Katie.”

I think I’m nodding. I’m not sure. The darkness of sleep is claiming me.

Chapter 36

Ira

“Ineed something a bit more… subtle.”

The saleswoman backs away from the counter so she can return the tray of necklaces she fetched not even five minutes ago. “I’ll try to find something, sir.”

Ah, how I love that word when I’ve exited my home intending to make total strangers think I’m a guy. Even more when it’s a pretty woman who is clearly into me. And this woman is. She can’t be older than me. She’s either Kathleen’s age or slightly younger. A tall, feminine beauty wearing a smart pantsuit and samples of the jewelry offered in this boutique. A ruby necklace. Diamond earrings. Emerald and opal rings adorning both fingers.

In another life, I would have been a jeweler. It’s always been a hobby of mine, although I can’t claim to have a ton of knowledge. There’s something shockingly wonderful about a striking set of jewelry, especially on a young lady who knows how to bow her head while also keeping her eyes up and on yours.

She offers a timid smile as she pulls out another tray of chokers. “How about these?”

I examine them, imaging my darling Kathleen wearing any while I flog her ass, pull her hair, and thrust in her face. If the saleswoman is smiling, then I’m grinning like a horny idiot.

“It has to be refined.” I hold up a black choker glittering in tiny crystals. “While also blending seamlessly into any outfit a woman pulls from her wardrobe.” Kathleen has two main styles. There are the pantsuits, usually black, navy, or white. Then there are the tight skirts and cocktail dresses. Either way, she is not a flashy woman. She lets her body and hair do the talking for her appearance. Anything I buy her has to be good enough for her everyday wardrobe…

…And it has to be completely nonthreatening. And not too expensive, because that would offend my Katie, and I can’t have that.

I’m taking great risks looking at these necklaces. But I want to spoil her. I’m someone who is used to buying gifts for the lucky women in their life. Jewelry, clothes, perfumes… even women like Stephanie May, who will be getting million-dollar contracts soon, would weep to open a box from this boutique. Kathleen? She’ll probably demand to know where I get off buying her trinkets. She can buy her own, you know.

That’s not the point. The point is that if I’m going to train her to be a sub in my vision, she needs a collar. Just the thought of wrapping one around her throat and then formally taking her… God, where do I get off indeed? On her.

“Are there any particular gems you’re interested in?”

I look back at the saleswoman. Funny. Have her buttons disappeared since I last looked at her? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this woman was flirting with me. The nerve. “Diamonds would fit her best.” I enunciate the her. While Katie and I haven’t decided to be exclusive in any way, I don’t mind scaring off other women with the idea I’m spoken for, let alone buying jewelry for a woman. Right now my mind and body are happy taking all of Kathleen Allen in new ways.

Wanna know something grand? After we had sex Friday, I watched her quickly nod off to sleep, her poor body spent all over my bed after I gave her what I desperately wanted to give. I wasn’t lying when I said she needed to overcome her aversion to my way of claiming my lovers. Otherwise, what’s the point? It’s what gets me off the hardest and would continuously come up in our relationship. We can slowly work our way back up to what and how, since I took things too far our first time in my condo, but it has to happen, or I won’t be satisfied.

I want my partner, short-term or long, to be covered in what she does to me.

I never anticipated she would be so against it. Then Friday happened. A Friday I won’t forget anytime soon.

We made love. Made love. I haven’t made love often in my life, but that was… definitely it. I’m ignoring my feelings at the moment. Living in this blasted moment. Fantasizing about that bombshell and all the ways we’re going to please each other.

Assuming I don’t break her and scare her away forever.

This is why I can’t get attached. This is why I have to fight back those moments trumping me when I claim her during sex. I can’t yet lose myself in the ideas of yes, yes, I love you. Few women have heard me utter those words. I’m not sure I’ve ever meant them.

Right, the choker.

“Diamonds, but not gratuitous.” I search the case for anything resembling what I have in mind. “They must be sophisticated but not garish. I want her to be able to wear it in casual clothes without drawing too much attention to herself.”

“Of course.” The woman pulls out one last tray, full of diamond-studded chokers of various grades and gaudiness. “These would be your best bet.”

I borrow an eyepiece and study the quality of the diamonds. Some of them are embedded into long, spidery silver ribbons. Too likely to get in the way during sex. Others are sparkling upon leather and cloth. Those would clash with Kathleen’s wardrobe.

Instead, my eye is drawn to a simple collar in the corner. It’s a chain made of white gold. Chains are good. Chains are adjustable, so they can either be a tight choker or a loose necklace. Versatile. Good for a woman’s wardrobe.