Title: Training and Field Trips, Oh My! (1/1)
Author: Kate, aka
mugglechump and Manda, aka
silverstardanceFandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Beckett Dunstan, Romilda Vane
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 6039
Summary: Beckett takes Romy on a field trip. It's very informative.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s sandbox. I just like to build sand castles.
Author’s Notes: This is an AU scene with characters played at
caliga_rpg. It follows 'A Reintroduction'.
Standing in front of her open wardrobe, Romy shifted the clothing around without any real idea of what she was looking for. Beckett had told her they'd be going out and the dress code for their upcoming adventure was obviously rather specific, as he'd never been inclined to assist her in selecting an outfit before. It was making her a little nervous.
As she reached the last of the garments for the fifth time, Romy looked back at Beckett rather pitifully. "Help. I don't know what's appropriate."
Beckett chuckled, laying a hand at the small of Romy's back as he moved to be able to view the wardrobe's contents. His eyes skipped past everything professional, turning to the decidedly non as a starting point.
"The idea," he explained, pulling a tiny velvet camisole from its hanger, "Is to show off as much as possible, without looking available, because you very much aren't and very much do not want to be thought to be, in this environment."
He flicked past several short skirts, picking two and removing them from the wardrobe to hand over along with the camisole. "Try those and we'll decide if I'm taking you shopping."
Romy nodded and slipped out of the denims she'd been wearing when they ran into one another. Her hair fell in waves as she looked downward to fasten the first skirt, obscuring the tiny smile that had been firmly in place since Beckett had pronounced her unavailable. It was a pleasing thought.
Slipping into the camisole, she looked to Beckett expectantly. The outfit was definitely not modest, but Romy had long ago become comfortable with her body. It didn't bother her to show it off. "What do you think?"
Lips twisted wolfishly, Beckett stalked a circle around Romy, nodding his approval. "Shopping will wait, for now. If we go back, I'll have to find something suitably tarty and laceable." He stepped back, tipping his head toward the closet. "Shoes," he demanded. "Something you can kneel in, preferably."
Giggling as she dug through her rather substantial shoe collection, Romy commented, "I don't think anyone's ever suggested I didn't have suitably tarty clothing. Generally it's the opposite."
She came out with a pair of tall, but not towering stilettos that strapped neatly around the ankle. Sexy, but still fairly easy to maneuver in. Not wanting to make a fool out of herself, Romy did a practice run, lowering herself to her knees in a fluid motion and rising again. "I think these will do well enough."
Her curiosity was piqued and she was thoroughly enjoying the attention. She could feel Beckett's eyes on her almost as if his gaze was a tangible thing. It made her skin heat and awakened the desire that was always close to the surface in his presence.
"There's a difference between suitably tarty for going out, and suitably tarty for somewhere half the female population will be naked, or damn near," Beckett clarified. "Also, it's a different atmosphere, unless you've been frequenting goth clubs."
He watched Romy maneuver from standing to kneeling and back, a remark about flexibility quashed for the moment, though he was pleased. "Very good. Next. I have no intention of leaving you alone, because to anyone who'd notice, you'd look unattached. If, somehow, you find yourself without me, stay where you are, out of the way, and I'll find you. Don't talk to anyone on your own, and don't look interested in anyone's direction unless I'm actually touching you at the time."
Committing the instructions to memory, she looked at him curiously. It wasn't entirely surprising that there would be women in various levels of undress, she did have an inkling of the kind of place Beckett was taking her, but the warnings made her wonder just what would happen to an 'unattached' person. At least, an unattached person like her. Beckett wouldn't have any trouble going alone, she was sure.
The questions tumbled out in a rush. "Why not? I mean, other than because I'm there with you, of course. What do you mean by looking interested? What would be happening to be interested in? And the naked women will be with someone, right?" It hadn't occurred to her until just then that some other woman might try to get Beckett's attention and the thought made a frown pull at her lips.
"Stop," Beckett insisted, guiding Romy to sit on her bed and settling himself in front of her. "I can see that thought happening, and there's no point. I'm not hunting tonight, so stop getting pouty over it."
His brain ticking back over the deluge of questions, he attempted to answer in order, "Showing interest in what anyone else is doing, by talking to them or watching too close, means that you want to play, and you don't, because for one you have no idea what you'd be getting yourself into and for two, I don't share."
He arched an eyebrow as he worked out a response to the rest. "It's a fetish club, pet... Most of what goes on is a lot like sex, at least for whoever's involved, even if it isn't actually sex. You'll understand what I mean by 'looking interested' if you assume that, although obviously a lot of who's out tends to like an audience." Shrugging, he added, "And no, the naked women are not necessarily there with someone, although those that aren't are either good masques or soon to be in bigger trouble than they were looking for."
Somewhat relieved both that Beckett had no intention of finding additional company and that he was not amenable to the idea of someone else seeking her company, Romy took a moment to digest the information he'd provided. As the part about some of the club-goers being exhibitionists passed through her thoughts, Romy recalled the comment he'd made as they prepared to leave the little cafe the day before.
I could have you over this table, now, and you'd love it.
She hadn't been able to deny his words then, and knowing that the description of the scene into which he was taking her likely applied to him as well, Romy was surprised to find the idea excited her far more than was proper.
A tiny shiver raced up her spine as she asked, "What will you want me to do?"
Smiling knowingly, Beckett reached out to trace his thumb across Romy's lips, dragging a fingertip along her cheek and down her neck, stopping just at the edge of the cami on her chest. "Tonight, to follow directions, and to see what you think of the place and what goes on there. If you want to play, we'll talk about it."
He could see her thoughts taking a lascivious turn, and pushed back his own mental images of possibilities. "You're not under any other set of expectations, yet... So if you have questions, ask, but quietly."
Romy's eyes fluttered closed as his finger moved across her skin and she leaned forward minutely, seeking the touch without thought. "Alright," she breathed. "I can do that."
Her mind was swirling with thoughts of what she would see and, to a lesser extent, experience tonight, and she was anxious to begin. Already her blood was moving through her veins a little quicker than usual, her breathing just a shade more forceful. Romy had always had a taste for things that skated the edge of dangerous or 'kinky', and what Beckett was sharing with her fed that hunger.
Confident in his decision to give Romy a sample of what had, for a time, been his world, her reaction voicing louder than words could that she was enticed by what it had to offer, Beckett stroked a hand over her hair, then pulled away. "Good," he recognized, softening the loss of contact as her eyes flashed open.
"By directions, I meant a specific set, and you'll probably hear other ones, but you'll learn mine. They aren't meant to be especially flattering; for our purposes, in this public, you belong to me, just like an animal does as a pet," he warned.
It was not a statement most women would welcome. Romy knew that, and there were men who would become fast acquainted with her wand if they were ever to suggest such a thing. In her current company, though, it was not the words 'pet' and 'animal' which caught her attention. She would belong to Beckett, even if it was only under limited circumstances.
None of the numerous men with whom she'd spent time over the years had wanted her to be theirs. Not really. They wanted to have her for a night or several, but nothing more permanent than that. Beckett had warned her that this was not something from which she could just walk away. This was lasting, and he wanted her for his own.
"May I kiss you, Gabe?" she asked, eyes bright and eager to show her excitement.
His typical smirk overtaking his expression, Beckett nodded, but removed himself from the bed, walking slowly as he spoke. "You may, after your first trial with the rules. Step one, which is ongoing, is that you'll get very good at recognizing my voice, even with other people talking. Step two, which is tied in with the first, and helps a bit, is that you learn my commands."
Standing now at her bedroom door, he gestured for her to move to him, ordering, "Come," sharply a second later.
Dutifully, Romy rose and walked to where Beckett was standing. She wasn't sure what she was expected to do next, so she clasped her hands together and waited patiently.
Well, patiently for Romy.
"Good. If I want something other than that, I'll say so. I'm not in this to try to trip you up so I can punish you; that isn't fun for me and it makes both of us look bad." He smiled roguishly as Romy kept herself still and absorbed what he'd said, then stepped into her space, curling his hand lightly at the back of her neck.
"And now, because you did well, you may have your kiss," Beckett murmured, bending to capture her lips with his own.
As his mouth covered hers, Romy leaned in just enough to feel his body against her. She liked the comfort of being close and was glad to have pleased him. It was a struggle to keep from twining her arms around his neck, to restrain herself from hinting at the bed that was only a few paces away. They had plans for the evening, though, and she wanted to know her part so that she would reflect well on Beckett. It was that thought that kept her from pouting when he pulled away again.
Holding Romy where she was, his thumb playing lightly along her throat for the simple pleasure of watching all her focus immediately narrow to that spot, Beckett considered her display of the trait that had led him to suggest this outing at all. She'd always been eager, from the first night he'd taken her to his bed, and moreso, eager to do whatever she thought would make him happy, even if it meant being far more patient than she wanted for herself. It was all in the search for validation, he knew, and while attaching herself to him this way was perhaps not healthy by the common definition, there were far worse options, and he, at least, did care.
Hand stilling, though he left the touch there, warm, he waited for her eyes to return to his, nodding as she looked at him expectantly. "There are a handful of other basic commands; if I tell you 'down', I mean to your knees, where you were standing, and you're to stay there until I tell you otherwise. If I want you next to me to do it, I'll move you there first. Understood?"
"Yes, Gabe." It would be a challenge to completely curb her cheek, but the warmth of Beckett's approval and the rewards of keeping him happy were well worth it. Not to mention the thrill that went through her when he spoke in that tone. Beckett could make her wet with a single word.
There was a lot of information to retain, and Romy's thoughts ticked back to the warnings he'd given her for if they were separated. Unlikely as it was, she wanted to make sure she didn't court an undesirable reaction out of ignorance. "What if someone speaks to me?"
"Assume that anyone speaking to you actually has the presence of mind to be speaking to me, if I'm with you. If you're alone, it's a bit of a judgment call; any of the collared girls, or men, though there are generally fewer of those, at least at Restraint, are probably safe enough, just don't accept any invitations." It was good that she asked now, instead of tripping over the situation later, but there were enough subtle rules along with the obvious-in-context that he wasn't going to be able to explain everything.
"Anyone else, especially those who look to be in my place instead of yours, keep your face down and stay quiet. A dom who knows what they're doing will take it that you're not allowed to talk without permission, or that you don't want to play, and should leave you be." The last option, unpleasant, gave Beckett pause, and he caught Romy's chin gently, deadly serious in his reply. "You know the difference between someone being pushy and pushing too far. You are a fully trained Auror, not a brainless little girl, regardless of what jewelry you have or haven't got on. If you need to get away, do it."
Seeing her eyes round in understanding, he pet Romy's cheek, not wanting her panicked over something highly unlikely. "I'm not taking you somewhere seedy... even if you're apart from me, I'm not worried about you being unsafe, but I needed to say that."
She let his words soak in, trusting that in the realm they were going to enter Beckett took his responsibility to look after her seriously. It was not a likely thing that she'd be out of his sight, particularly this first time, and he was not the sort to knowingly spend time among those who would use a woman for sport. And he was right, she was far from helpless, and quite determined no one would ever violate her that way again.
Setting any lingering concerns aside, she focused on the anticipation that had been rising in her since he first brought up the excursion. "Is there anything else I should know?"
Mentally sorting back over what he'd already covered, Beckett shook his head slowly. "The rest, I think, is learned just as well by seeing and doing." He offered his hand, already togged for the evening in leather pants and a favorite black silk shirt.
Romy tucked her hand in Beckett's and let him lead her from the flat to Apparate. Her imagination was running a bit wild as she considered what things she might see, being careful to not look too intrigued unless Beckett told her it was alright, of course. She wondered what effect the scene might have on her if she was already buzzing with excitement.
And she wondered what effect her addition to the mix would have on her keeper.
Resting her head against his arm as they prepared to go, she rolled her eyes upward. "Thank you for bringing me," she said softly.
"Mm, entirely selfish," Beckett countered, fixing the coordinates of their destination in his head, "I enjoy this, and I enjoy you. With a touch of luck, you'll enjoy this, and I can have both at once."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As clubs went, Restraint was easily one of Beckett's favorites, being wizarding, clean, and relatively private, if that was what you were looking for. Fingers threaded through Romy's, he tugged her into line behind him and made their way from the Apparation point to the upper floor of the main hall, as the catwalks and lounge would be an adequate taste of the tamer options available, and give Romy a chance to observe without doing it deliberately.
Forgoing the plush sofas for the moment, he chose an uncluttered catwalk, guiding Romy to the rail in front of him and hemming her in behind with his body, his forearms braced on the rail. He glanced around, the dance floor with its cages, typical club scene, below them, albeit populated with a less-clothed mob than might be elsewhere, and the lounge across and beside them with clumps of people in various stages of... involvement.
He caught sight of a familiar form several rails over and made mental note, though he had no intention of Romy becoming better acquainted with Kerr than an introduction.
"Well," he murmured, lips very nearly brushing her skin as he spoke, head bent to her ear, "What do you think?"
Romy let her eyes move over the scene below, past the dancers to the less familiar - at least in public - sights. There were dimly lit areas where couples were kissing, touching, and more. Heat rose into her cheeks, though she didn't look away. It was fascinating and erotic, but it was not the variety of couplings that most intrigued her.
It was the women, primarily, who knelt as Beckett had explained he would expect her to and the common adornment most of them shared. Leaning back slightly to feel the warmth and comfort of Beckett's body behind her, Romy tipped her head up to look at him. "They have collars."
"They do," Beckett agreed, shifting the half-step closer so that Romy was pinned in contact, enjoying their heat mingling through the light barrier of clothing - mostly his own. "It's to show that they belong to someone and aren't allowed to play without said person's permission."
It was unsurprising to him that she would fixate on that one thing first; it was, after all, what he'd considered for her, and she was perceptive.
They belonged to someone. Romy watched with interest as some 'pets' were bid to do different things. Others were allowed to simply rest at their keeper's feet, often with a casual caresses for their obedient behavior. They looked content.
She wanted that.
"I think I like it here."
"Thought you might." He'd not drummed up any sort of itinerary for their evening; whatever Romy seemed comfortable with was fine with him, as it was all to let her have a try at the atmosphere.
Pushing back from the railing, he trailed a hand down her bare arm, clasping her wrist lightly and drawing her back against his chest. "There are three other floors you can't see from here... we can explore whatever you want, to watch or to try."
She wondered what was on the other levels and exploring further was an intriguing thought. At a regular club she'd be dancing or drinking cocktails sent by men trying to curry her favor. This wasn't the usual fare, though, and Romy was a little at a loss for what to do next.
"Why don't we look around? You could show me what you like?"
A smirk lighting his face at the mention of what he liked, Beckett nodded, tugging Romy in the direction they'd come from toward the third story, intent on discovering whether the swings were in the same place as he remembered.
"Gabriel." The deceptively pleasant bass drawl pulled him up short as they reached the solid floor of the second level, and Beckett smiled tightly before turning around.
"Kerr," he greeted, nodding at the wiry man watching them appraisingly, a leash-chain looped easily around one wrist. "Only one? Must be early in the evening for you, then." He indicated Romy, keeping her slightly behind himself. "My guest, Romy."
The man who'd addressed Beckett was huge, well over a foot taller than Romy. At the end of his leash was a young-looking blonde who peeked briefly up at them before looking away again. There were fresh welts raised across the skin of her back and legs. Romy was not squeamish about pain, even courted it from time to time, but the marks on the girl went beyond what she had ever considered enjoyable.
Pulling her eyes from the tiny woman curled around the enormous man's leg, she looked up at him, not venturing forward from her place behind Beckett. "Hallo."
"New toy," Kerr rumbled, an assessment rather than a question. Glancing balefully down at the persistent nuzzle being applied to his knee, he tugged the leash to draw the blonde out in front of him. "Go on, then, brat... You always did have a thing for him," he grunted, begrudgingly amused by his pet's plea.
Beckett chuckled as the girl crept forward, her eyes darting up to him for every few inches of approach. She was as adept as ever at crawling despite the lacy white nightie Kerr always had her in. "Come, Angel," he prompted, holding his free hand down to her, "You can say hello."
She settled herself at his feet, looking up expectantly until Beckett smoothed his hand over her hair. He bent to kiss her forehead lightly, running a fingertip across one of the raised red lines between her shoulders and watching her shudder in pleasure. "D'you get a good caning?" he asked knowingly as he straightened, earning a hooded sort of smile and slow nod.
Smiling down at Angel, Beckett nudged her gently back toward Kerr. "Back to your giant. If you behave, maybe you'll get a playmate for the night," he suggested, knowing Kerr's tastes from his own time in the scene. "And yes, new, and no, I still don't share," he added pointedly, catching the hint of pout over the blonde's shoulder before her keeper answered.
"Damn shame."
Romy watched the interaction from beneath hooded eyes, careful not to stare openly. The twinge of jealousy she felt while Beckett paid attention to Kerr's pet was muted. It was obvious she was attached to the man on a permanent basis, and Beckett had said he was not looking for additional company. Just the same, she was glad to see him send her back to her master, and even more pleased at the reiteration that she was not to be passed around.
Resting her cheek against Beckett's arm, a tiny smile curled on her lips.
Offering a mock salute in Kerr's direction, Beckett took their leave from the pair, turning Romy to edge her toward the alcove containing the staircase nearest them. He murmured explanation as they moved, his head dipped close to her ear.
"I've known Angel - Marianna, really, but no one calls her that now - since she was actually under-age. Complete doll... likes to be beaten to within an inch of her life. Kerr's a good match. I think he's had her... oh, four or five years now," he reminisced, taking a right, then a left, when presented with a series of corridors.
Romy tried and failed to imagine wanting to be beaten that severely. Everyone had their own tastes and Merlin knew she had done and enjoyed things that most people would not understand, but knowing what the large man's pleasure came from made her even more glad she would not be expected to be with him.
Her thoughts turned to Angel and the complete subservience in which she lived. It brought a question to mind, one that might one day affect her, too. "What would happen to her if he decided he didn't want her anymore?"
"Could be a bad spot," Beckett admitted. "It won't... Kerr's not the type, and if I heard of it it wouldn't go very well for him, but in theory she'd look to get herself picked up by somebody else. She's... Angel's not the type to do well on her own."
Rounding a doorway, a soft but triumphant 'ha!' escaped him as they were abruptly flanked by two sets of equipment in use. The swings could easily be curtained off, but just as he'd expected, the first pair in the door were prime audience territory, and the ambient sounds of sex filtered forward from further into the large room.
Blinking at the sudden immersion into activities that had, for her, always had at least the illusion of privacy but which were decidedly not private here, Romy couldn't help but gape. The initial shock faded quickly, though, and her attention narrowed to the swings being put to enthusiastic use.
The equipment freed up the couples' movement, allowing for some interesting and unorthodox positions. If the sounds coming from the flexible brunette on the left were any indication, unorthodox was a good thing. Cocking her head to the side, Romy just watched for awhile, unaware that her breaths were a bit shallow, her pulse visible beneath the soft skin of her neck.
His laugh a low purr at Romy's throat, fingers slipping just under the hem of her top to skip teasingly across her stomach, Beckett observed, "So, we'll be coming back here." He brushed his lips along her neck, stilling the sway of her body with his hand splayed across her belly.
Curious, as it wasn't a subject they'd covered, yet, he asked, "You like to watch, beauty? Or you thinking naughty things for yourself?"
The light touch of his lips and warm hand at her stomach made her suddenly very aware of Beckett's closeness and it took a moment for his question to filter through. Eyes still trained on the scene before her, Romy considered her reply.
"I don't mind watching, but it's the things in my imagination that stir me," she answered at length. The visual show gave her ideas, but it was not players that attracted her.
"Oh?" Beckett prompted, teeth and tongue toying fleetingly with Romy's neck. He was more than willing to make mental list of the positions that appealed to her and see if they could try them all before one of them was too tired to move. "What things would those be, then? Wanting to know if a little help makes it easier for me to fuck you until your voice goes?" he breathed harshly against her ear.
"I think you'd be so ready by the time I got you into one that I could have you off just by my voice," he challenged, skimming a fingertip below the band of the tiny skirt she wore.
A quiet, needy mewl escaped her at Beckett's words. He had a knack for speaking the most deliciously naughty things in a way that made her wriggle with want. Beckett knew, instinctively, exactly what would affect her, make her wish he was buried inside her making her scream.
Romy loved that about him.
"Could you?" she asked, her words soft on a whisper of breath, the question more awe than disbelief. Gesturing subtly to where a man held his partner's thighs tightly enough that the indentations in her flesh were visible even from where they stood, pulling her forcefully to him again and again, Romy queried, "We could do that? People would watch us?"
Uh huh. You'd 'rather I didn't', my arse. "Mm, if the curtains are left open," he confirmed, leaning his shoulders against the wall at his back and pulling Romy slowly to recline into him, not impeding her view of the impromptu show. One arm pinned her lightly around the waist, the other dropping to the smooth expanse of thigh afforded by her barely-decent skirt.
Beckett traced his fingertips ghost-soft over the warm olive tone of her skin, raising quick races of gooseflesh along his path. "Think they'd hear you, regardless," he teased, pulling Romy's earlobe into his mouth briefly, grazing it with his teeth. "And have most of the men here jealous to not have you under their hands, your gorgeous legs 'round their hips, screaming yourself quiet on their names," he growled, licking over the invisible echo of his mark. "Mine to have."
"Yours," she agreed, rubbing against him suggestively. Her hand came up to rest lightly at the back of his neck as her head tilted to allow him greater access to her flesh. "To have whenever you want."
As many things as Romy had experienced, she'd never performed that way, in front of an audience. It was oddly thrilling to think of eyes on her as Beckett took his pleasure, to imagine he'd want to show her off proudly. He hadn't been wrong in his tease about her readiness for him; she nearly always was.
Nipping at Romy's neck, a reminder rather than the mark he'd considered giving, Beckett slid his palm from her thigh up the length of her torso to her throat, cuffing her pulse, though not enough to restrict her breathing. "To do with you as I please?" he queried, wondering whether she'd gleaned the oath attached to the concept of collared pets. "Would you swear it?" he whispered, feeling her heart jump under his fingers.
She stilled, dropping her hand to the side. Eyes falling closed, Romy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the fire that had been growing so she could answer without the influence of that heat.
"I would promise anything you asked of me." It was the truth, and it was not a statement she made lightly. Romy's life had been filled with people who'd disappointed her in one way or another, but she trusted Beckett and had almost from their first acquaintance.
It was what had led her to seek him out during one of the darkest periods she'd ever known. Her lover wasn't a 'nice' man, but he wouldn't harm her. She was sure of that.
Satisfied, Beckett tipped Romy's head back against his chest, his hand covering her mouth as he sank his teeth into the flesh between neck and shoulder, her surprised scream muffled before it faded. He released her from the makeshift gag as she subsided into him, holding her loosely, and pressed a soft kiss to the livid bite.
"Good girl," was the murmured praise, fingers petting her cheek when the tension ebbed from her frame in his arms. "And we'll discuss it."
Tears still glistened in her eyes, a duller throbbing replacing the initial sharp pain of his bite, but Romy relaxed into the comforting touch that followed with a sense of calm and joy. While she did not have the more permanent adornment worn by the girls whose pleasure they were witnessing, for now Beckett had marked her as his own. For now, she was not alone.
And there was the possibility she could be his for always.
Turning in his arms, Romy nuzzled against his chest before tipping her head up to share a soft smile.
Beckett brushed a kiss across Romy's forehead, knowing she wanted the reassurance, and then grasped her shoulders lightly and turned her back to where she'd been. The discussion he'd mentioned was likely to be fairly emotional for her, which was why it would be taking place later, and at one of their flats. At present, she still had basic rules to follow.
She was calmer now, less engrossed in the scene before them and her reaction to it, and he reminded quietly, "Behave," as he settled her back against his chest once more.
Her cheeks colored at the mild reprimand and Romy rested as he'd positioned her, determined to master her impulses and be the good girl he'd named her earlier.
Refocusing on the visible swings and the couples making use of them, it became clear that the pair she'd been watching earlier was fast approaching satisfaction. The collared woman's cries echoed around the room and Romy couldn't tear her eyes away. In her mind it was her suspended in the air and Beckett bringing those sounds from her lips.
As the screams of ecstasy crescendoed around them, Romy's teeth dug into her lip. She wanted his hands on her, wanted to touch him in return but she forced herself to remain still. Good girl. Good girl.
Lips curling as he watched Romy watch the couple in the swings, her breathing catching minutely, teeth worrying her lip, Beckett splayed his hand across her stomach, leaning down to ask, "Tour or swing?" though he was pretty sure he knew the answer. She was tense with restraint and desire, and while he ought to make her wait, a round wouldn't go amiss for either of them.
A needy mew slipping from her lips, Romy met Beckett's gaze. His hand was warm, pressed to the band of skin peeking out from between her camisole and skirt - a tease of touch. He knew how affected she was, Romy could see it in his eyes. His question was very nearly a tease as there was little doubt what she was craving. Who she was craving.
"Swing, please, Gabe," she breathed, excitement sending a heated shiver straight through her.
Wrapping his fingers around Romy's upper arm, he guided her in front of him past the pair of swings on display, turning after the next divider into an alcove, at least partially hidden from view. Beckett paused just inside the space, turning loose of Romy and moving back a step, nodding to the partition.
"Close it, if you want it closed," he directed, standing patiently to let her choose.
Romy moved toward the partition, intending to close it, but paused just before her hand made contact. Her arm hung in the air for the space of several heartbeats as she weighed her options, peering back at Beckett briefly before coming to a decision.
Her heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest as she dropped her hand and returned to his side, the expression on her face one of surprise at her own daring. "Open, I think," she said, her voice breathy with excitement.
His eyes dark on the eager face tipped up to him, Beckett nodded, swaying Romy closer to him with a light touch at her hips. Fingers sliding smoothly beneath the brief swath of skirt she wore, he divested her calmly of knickers, nipping her inner thigh as he knelt to remove them, the bit of fabric tucked into his pocket for safekeeping.
Letting the underlying shade, a predatory smile and calculated intent, show through in his face, he backed Romy slowly into the middle of the little chamber, enjoying the spark of surprise that lit her entire being as she bumped into the platform of the swing.
"Open, it is."