Thread: In a Twisted World {Prince x LeatrixSage}

His admission that he would indeed enjoy being watched by the right person startled her so much that she laughed. As she did, Brent's other arm snaked around her waist. It felt somehow very natural - as he drew her in - to allow her arms to settled against his chest. She was wrapped up in the warmth and smell of him - aftershave and a hint of champagne on his breath. His head tipped down toward her, and if it hadn't been for her mask they may have...The moment passed, and she smiled beneath her mask. What had he been saying? You're right, she agreed, her eyes focused on his as she spoke. They were warm, inviting, and hungry. Trust is the crux of it all. And didn't that make her a fool? Here she stood in the arms of a stranger, putting her trust in his hands more than once already. The sheer level of her rashness over the last few minutes alone should make her feel ashamed. Should, but didn't. Risk was inherently part of her world, what was a little bit more? Pressed this tightly against him, she was rather certain the man wasn't armed, and why should he be any more dangerous to her than she was to him? - Actually, that thought almost made her laugh again. If anyone that mattered found out anything about this little interlude they were having... yes, she was far more dangerous to him than he was to her. Brent's following question broke Aislinn's train of thought and brought her back to him. While he waited for an answer, she realized that he was right, she had never actually answered his question. What kind of desires do I have? she mused out loud. He allowed her time to think, but somehow it didn't ease the feeling of being rushed to come up with an answer. It was in the urgency in the way he held her. It wasn't that he was clinging or crushing her to him, but that he felt drawn tight - like a bow string ready to loose an arrow at any moment. Or a trap ready to spring. Or a wolf to pounce. He saw what he wanted a woman under his control. But, so did Aislinn when she saw a woman set free. The irony of it didn't allude her at all. But, how could she possibly explain it to him? Until now, I didn't realize how difficult that question would be to answer, she complained, her embarrassment bleeding through on her voice. It wasn't just something she had never been asked before, it was something she hadn't yet fully answered for herself. You've heard a taste of it, I suppose. But, it's hard to explain seeing freedom in the image of a woman who is clearly anything but free and entirely at the mercy of someone else... her voice trailed off as she spoke, and Aislinn smiled beneath her mask. She had to drop her eyes as well, feeling suddenly too exposed. She was already a woman bound by the will of someone else, how was being tied in physical restraints going to make it different or better? I don't think I fully know what my desires are, she answered again, this time with a sense of clarity. The one thing I do know, right this very moment, is that I trust this stranger, named Brent... likely a lot more than any sensible woman should after just a few minutes. Her eyes came back up, hesitant to meet his gaze, but trapped by its intensity once she had. He was too close. She couldn't breath, her skin was too warm, and her heart beat too quickly. Beneath her dress she felt her body responding, the smooth fabric becoming a torment against her nipples as they hardened into taunt, sensitive buds. The warmth of a blush carried from her cheeks and down her neck, and Aislinn gently pulled herself out of Brent's arms in an effort to catch her breath again. As she turned away, her eyes landed for the first time on the center of the room. The cage-like structure caught her attention first, and she froze, surprised she hadn't noticed it sooner. As her gaze traveled over the nearby table and its assortment of ropes, gags, floggers -and few things she didn't even recognize - she felt Brent come close behind her. Aislinn could almost feel him holding his breath - or was she holding hers? - as he waited. He didn't reach out, or speak, but let her take in what was before her. Breathe, she commanded herself, and she sucked in a slow breath of air, held it a few seconds, and then let it out. In that short span of time, she made a choice, and her hands rose to the small knots of fabric sitting on her shoulders. It took only a little push before they slipped off her shoulders, and her dress slid to the floor in a puddle of soft, black fabric. Just breathe. She stood still for a second before she could work up the courage to glance back over her shoulder at him. His eyes were still warm and hungry, but now they were devouring her. She felt the path they traveled down her neck and over her shoulders, and then sliding down her back to the black, lace thong - that felt somehow much more revealing than it had before - and finally down her long legs to the heels she wore. If you're open to it, she spoke up in a small voice when she couldn't stand the silence anymore. I think I can trust you to help me figure it out. With just one stipulation that absolutely must be accepted. She paused, held her breath, waited for those eyes that saw through her defences to meet her own gaze again before she finished, the mask must stay on.