Show and Tell: A Forbidden Flowers Story

by Lynne, Donya

  Hearing him say things like that always made her heart flutter. He had said more than once that she was the first submissive he had ever wanted to keep for himself, and even though he had never brought up the subject of collaring her, she knew by the reverent way he kissed and caressed her neck that the thought had crossed his mind.

  And just last week, he had taken her shopping at Tiffany’s after hours. Wearing his mask, of course, which had raised a few intrigued eyebrows. He had spent over an hour making her try on necklaces before telling the sales manager he would think about it, but in a way that suggested he’d made his selection and would be in touch soon.

  Jenna refused to get her hopes up, though. They’d only been together a couple of months. In light of what he’d told her regarding his beliefs about collaring, he couldn’t have possibly been thinking about collaring her. Could he?

  But given how unpredictable and mysterious he’d been about their trip to Tiffany’s, his approach to devising rules for her to break was another story.

  Most of his rules never changed, especially those involving the club. But he enjoyed toying with her when it came to what he called his lesser rules. For example, at first he said he didn’t want her toenails to be too pink, then, when she showed up with red toenails, he admonished her, saying she should have known better than to go with red, as it was too brazen. The next week, after another pedicure, when she’d asked the nail tech to go with a shade somewhere between mauve and lavender, he expressed his disappointment, because he had personally liked the red.

  This was how he kept her on her toes, literally. It was both frustrating and exhilarating, creating the perfect friction of tension and desire. Each time she saw him, she never knew what aspect of her appearance he would pick on to twist her into delectable knots.

  But it was all just part of the game they were learning how to play with each other. His overly detailed assessments of her were like really intense foreplay and gave her a thrill either way his wind blew. On one hand, his praise when she pleased him gave her a boost of confidence and filled her with a sense of victory. On the other, his scorn when she “disappointed” him filled her with adrenaline-infused anticipation, because she knew he would punish her. And she was quickly growing addicted to his punishments.

  In her mind, it was a win-win. She got something out of it either way. But, as he’d told her more than once, that was the point. And she was learning that even when he claimed to be displeased, he really wasn’t. He was only pretending. Pretending that he didn’t like the way she’d styled her hair, or the color of her nail polish, or that she had arrived five minutes early instead of right on time.

  And it wasn’t like he tried to hide that he was only playing. The delighted gleam in his eyes, his fleeting but playfully crooked grin that twisted his mouth, and the way he looked her up and down as if she were a four-course meal he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into gave him away. And he knew that she knew that he was only feigning disapproval to give them what they both wanted.

  But that didn’t diminish the effect of his Dom voice when he invoked it. And it didn’t diminish her desire to be punished.

  Other women might have felt toyed with under such circumstances. They might have become frustrated with Warren’s ever-changing rules. But not Jenna. She understood his game and why he played it. And to his credit, he seemed to understand her too. He knew what she needed. He knew when to push her, when to pull, and when to back down. He read her like he’d read her books, seeing her completely and in a way no one else ever had.

  In short, they were a perfect match. Each had what the other needed, and each willingly gave it.

  But when it came to her body, the only thing he had broached no argument about was that he wanted her genitals waxed bare. The last time they had played with genital clamps, a pubic hair got caught in one of the clamps, making for an unpleasant experience, if only for a few seconds.

  Warren had taken the accident personally. As her Dom, he said it was his job to ensure things like that didn’t happen. If she were meant to feel pain, it was because he had specifically orchestrated it. Undue pain from something like a clamp catching on a pubic hair was unacceptable.

  So, a thorough bikini wax once a week had become standard protocol.

  Speaking of being waxed . . .

  After he finished putting on quite the show of examining her fingernails as closely as he had her toenails, he untied the robe, flipped it open, and smoothed his palm over her mound.

  It was obvious he was only pretending to be clinical rather than sexual, but Jenna knew better. Warren knew what his touch did to her, which meant he knew damn well what he was doing as he glided his fingers up and down her bare skin, then lower, as if making sure her wax job had been thorough enough to remove even the smallest hairs on her labia.

  Forcing herself to remain still and silent, she went liquid inside, licking her lips and swallowing heavily as her body came alive. A bubble of heat bloomed low in her belly and expanded into her thighs.

  She had taken great care for weeks to give him no reason to be displeased with her. Had she succeeded? Would he finally take off his mask?

  After what felt like eons, he made an approving sound and pulled his hand away from her core, letting it slide down her thigh, over her knee, and along her calf and ankle. He rounded her feet, then dragged his fingers up her other leg, her thigh, and up her stomach to her breast, where he paused to lightly pinch her nipple. It tightened into a hard peak in an instant.

  His peppermint-scented breath warmed her ear as he slowly whispered, “I am very pleased with you tonight, Jenna.”

  Pleased enough to let her see his face?

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve worked hard to be what you want.” It was the kind of response he expected of her as his submissive, but it was also true. She had worked hard to please him.

  His lips brushed over hers. “You are what I want.”

  She’d known Warren for over two months. She’d been his submissive for only one of those. Now she wanted to know what the man she was sleeping with—the man who had become her Dominant—looked like.

  He kissed her again. “You are everything I have ever wanted,” he said, lifting her head off the table with one hand as he used the other to pull off the elastic band holding the blindfold in place before lifting it away from her eyes.

  She blinked and winced against the light, eager to see the face of the man her heart had already decided it couldn’t live without. But when he came into focus, he was still wearing his mask. She had thought . . . hoped . . . that tonight would be different.

  He grinned wryly. “You look disappointed.”

  She tried not to appear frustrated, but she felt understandably discouraged. “I just thought that tonight . . . that you would . . . that I would finally get to see you.”

  His green eyes searched hers. “What made you think that?”

  She was determined not to show weakness. “Have I not pleased you?”

  “You have.” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth like he was enjoying torturing her far too much.

  “Have I not followed your rules?”

  His grin grew aggravatingly amused. “You have. For the most part.”

  She held his gaze, refusing to look away, as if challenging him to give her one reason for continuing to withhold the one thing she wanted more than any other. “Then let me see you.”

  “Tsk, tsk.” He slowly shook his head. “There you go topping from the bottom again.”

  Disappointment and frustration combined to become aggravation. It had been a month already. She had been good. More than good. She had obeyed, even when she had wanted to defy him. Next Saturday, he planned on performing a scene with her—his first in almost a year, and her first scene ever—for the club. She didn’t want to do that without knowing what he looked like.

  “Then untie me. I don’t want to play tonight.”

  His head tilted to one side as if he were trying to decide whet
her she was serious. “If you want me to untie you, use your safeword.” He said it like he was daring her.

  “You don’t think I will?”

  He held her gaze. “Will you?”

  They were in a standoff. Her will against his.

  The seconds ticked by, dragging onward, his resolve seemingly made of concrete. But so was hers.

  Just as she was about to end the suspense and end their play with her safeword, he huffed out a humored chuff and broke eye contact.

  “Yes, my delightfully defiant submissive, I do believe you’ve earned the right to see me unmasked.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as her irritation vanished in a blink, replaced by hope and excitement. Was he serious? After all this time and torture, was he finally going to reveal himself?

  He turned away and walked to a bureau along the wall. Keeping his back to her, he placed her blindfold on top of it, then took hold of either side of his mask and slowly lifted it off. The elastic band flipped up and off the back of his head, mussing his hair.

  He placed his mask on the bureau beside the blindfold, then raked his fingers through his thick, naturally wavy hair, smoothing it down.

  Holding her breath, she waited for him to turn around.

  Would he be everything she imagined? More? He couldn’t possibly be less. She was already falling in love with him, so seeing his face could only make her feelings for him stronger.

  At least that’s what she told herself.

  His shoulders lifted, and he angled his body to the right, taking his time to reveal himself. After a short but intentional pause, he finally turned all the way around.

  And there he was. Her Warren. Her Dom. Her Master.

  The epitome of every alpha-dominant hero she had ever created for her books. Delano and all the rest, in the flesh.

  His gray-green eyes and full, firm mouth were still the same, and the dark scruff on his jaw and chin were still uniquely his, but now she could see the full landscape of his face. High, structured cheekbones, dimples that cut into his cheeks when he grinned, strong Roman nose, and thick angular eyebrows over full dark lashes. He had a small scar under his right eye, but it did nothing to take away from his striking features. If anything, it added character.

  Fully exposed and uncovered, Warren took her breath away.

  “You’re gawking,” he said, grinning.

  “I’m admiring.”

  His gaze traveled her body from head to toe and back again. “I know the feeling. I can’t help admiring you every time I see you.”

  He gave her a moment to stare, then smiled and returned to the table. He bent over her. “Just so we’re clear, I had already decided that I was going to take off my mask tonight.”

  “Then why did you almost allow me to use my safeword?”

  “To see how far you would let me push you.” He eyed her mouth. “And because I was thinking we might take things more vanilla tonight, anyway.”

  She bit her bottom lip, held his gaze for a long moment, still taking in the full view of his face, then tipped her head back and to the side to look up at the cuff around her right wrist. “What? And waste all this leather?” She raised her arms off the table and gave them a little shake, rattling the chains shackling her.

  He lifted his eyes to her cuffed wrists, studied them for a moment, then brought his gaze back down to hers as he straightened. “You’re right. Let’s save vanilla for another night.” He grinned like the devil, then turned for his wall of floggers. “Because I do believe that little show you just put on is grounds for punishment.”

  Ah, yes. Punishment. Glorious, arousing punishment.

  “Warren?” she said as he selected a flogger with plastic beads knotted into the ends of the leather tails.

  He flashed her a harshly critical glance over his shoulder.

  “I mean . . . Sir?”

  His expression relaxed into strong angles and shadows. “That’s better.” He returned to the table and looked down at her like he cherished her more than life itself, waiting for her to say whatever it was she wanted to tell him.

  God, he was beautiful.

  She blinked up at him, so unbelievably grateful that they’d found each other. “I’m so glad you hit a seven instead of a one that night.”

  His eyes held hers for a long moment as his broad chest visibly rose and fell. “So am I.” He bent forward, kissed her sweetly, then placed his palm over her breast and squeezed, his demeanor flipping to Master Dom in an instant. “Now, let’s see if threatening me to show you my face in your time rather than mine was worth the trouble.”

  She grinned against his lips. She was going to love disobeying him. After all, pain was pleasure. “Yes, sir.”

  I hope you enjoyed Show and Tell. If so, please consider leaving a review to help others find the book. Thank you.

  Don’t miss these other Forbidden Flowers stories:

  Sushi

  Meet Me at Midnight

  Jaw Breaker

  Sacred

  Noise

  Hitting the Spot

  More Forbidden Flowers to come!

  Check out my other Kindle Unlimited books:

  Finding Lacey Moon

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  Suspicion

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  Choose Me

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  Books by Donya Lynne

  All the King's Men Series

  Rise of the Fallen

  Heart of the Warrior

  Micah's Calling

  Rebel Obsession

  Return of the Assassin

  All the King's Men - The Beginning

  Bound Guardian Angel

  BLACK

  Micah’s Bride

  Raven’s Gift

  Beautiful Chaos – Coming in 2021

  Strong Karma Trilogy

  Good Karma

  Coming Back to You

  Full Circle

  Banger Trilogy

  Choose Me

  Covet Me

  Cherish Me

  Savage Storm Series

  Lightning Strikes

  Savage Storm

  Savage Surrender – Coming soon

  Storm Damage – Coming soon

  Forbidden Flowers Series

  Sushi

  Meet Me at Midnight

  Jaw Breaker

  Sacred

  Noise

  Hitting the Spot

  Show and Tell

  Rough Ride – Coming soon

  Standalones

  Finding Lacey Moon

  Little Things

  Suspicion

  Standalone M/M Titles

  Winter’s Fire

  Collections and Anthologies

  All the King’s Men Vol. 1 (books
1-3)

  All the King’s Men Vol. 2 (books 4-6)

  Strong Karma Trilogy Boxed Set

  Banger Trilogy Boxed Set

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