Chapter 5 The Wait And Wet

• Briar sat in the elegantly decorated living room, the atmosphere charged with a blend of excitement and trepidation. She had been nervous about attending her first Black and White party, feeling out of place among the elegantly dressed guests. Most of them wore black, a clear signal of their dominance, while Briar was clad in white-a color signifying her openness to being claimed.
• Nadia had introduced her to David, the imposing man in white who had a softness in his demeanor that surprised her. Briar felt almost embarrassed to be sitting beside him, a stark contrast between his muscular frame and her smallness. "This is my David," Nadia had said. Briar noted how even in her words, there was authority. David had nodded humbly, acknowledging her compliment about their home yet attributing all the credit to his wife.
• Listening to David explain the rules of etiquette made Briar's heart race. She was aware of the intense gazes of the black-clad guests assessing her, judging whether she would indeed be an acceptable candidate for claim. David's quiet tone soothed her nerves slightly, but her resolve only deepened. She had come to speak with Damien Thorne, and nothing would distract her from that goal. However, David's warning shadowed her mind: she could not approach him. "Speak only when you're spoken to," he advised, explaining the community's customs, each rule laden with implications she was only beginning to understand.
• But even as David spoke, Briar's focus drifted. How could she be put out as an option in this way? She had no desire for such attention, yet here she was, the object of scrutiny. "How do I avoid being claimed?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
• "It's a little late for that, Miss Hollis," a commanding voice cut through her thoughts.
• Briar's breath hitched as she turned to face Damien Thorne. He was even more imposing up close, his piercing gaze making her pulse quicken. "Sir, you're here," she managed to say, her heart racing. She nearly fumbled her drink in surprise as she stood, unable to look away from his intense expression.
• "Excuse us," he said to David, who had watched the exchange with a quiet solemnity. Damien took hold of Briar's arm, guiding her firm yet possessively through the crowd, her mind swirling with confusion and anticipation.
• "Mr. Thorne, I'm so sorry. I did try to see you at the office, but I-"
• "Quiet," he interrupted, the single word sending a thrill through her. He ushered her into a dimly lit room, shutting the door behind them, cloaking them in an air of secrecy. "Were you informed of the proper etiquette?" he asked, his tone sharp.
• Briar opened her mouth to reply, but Damien placed a hand over her lips, silencing her. "You don't speak without my permission here. If you do it again, I'll punish you. Understood?" She nodded, the weight of his words settling over her like a shroud. No one had ever spoken to her this way, and she found herself both frightened and intrigued.
• "Lift your hands over your head," he commanded. She hesitated, glancing at him with wide eyes, feeling a mix of reluctance and undeniable curiosity. "Not very submissive of you, Miss Hollis," he remarked, an eyebrow arching in challenge.
• He swiftly took her arms, lifting them overhead with ease, and secured them gently with something soft yet firm. The sensation both surprised and excited her, igniting a spark deep within. "You may be used to challenging the doms in your circles, but here we have rules," Damien said, his voice low and unyielding. "When you're wearing white, you're not permitted to fight."
• She swallowed hard, caught in the intensity of his gaze. As he stepped back to appraise her, the room felt smaller, the air thicker with anticipation. His eyes traveled over her body, and for a moment, she felt completely exposed yet somehow empowered.
• "If you'd ever worn this in the office, I'd have dragged you into the nearest closet-oh, and you're fired, by the way," he said casually, a smirk playing on his lips. The casualness of his statement struck her as both shocking and thrilling. How could he so easily take control of her professional fate?
• He stepped closer again, his hand gliding down her body, up to her face in a gentle yet possessive manner. "God, you're even more beautiful than I thought." The compliment hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, stirring something deep inside her.
• As he leaned down, breathing her in, Briar felt her knees weaken. "Vanilla," he mused, his breath warm against her skin. "I think something like ppium might be more appropriate." The term further deepened her intrigue, lifting her curiosity even higher.
• His cock found her lower lip, and she instinctively parted her lips, allowing him to slip it inside. "Suck it for me, so I can get a feel for your mouth," he instructed, and she could hardly think, only obey. The sensation was foreign, electric, and she felt her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.
• "Like that, yes," he urged, encouraging her with a darker note in his voice. "Don't be timid, sweetheart. My cock is a lot bigger than this."
• The sensation sent waves of confusion and excitement crashing over her. This was new territory for Briar, one she had only fantasized about. It felt wrong and right all at once.
• After relishing the moment, he drew his cock out, leaving her feeling breathless, still caught in the orb of his presence. "Who told you about the party?" he asked, his brow furrowed slightly, the anger in his voice evident.
• Briar's heart raced as she searched for an answer. She had crossed the boundaries of her known world into one filled with uncharted desires and risks. What would Damien think of her next move? The layers of anticipation unfurled before her, and she couldn't deny that curiosity was far stronger than fear. In this moment, she was ready to step deeper into the unknown and face whatever awaited her.