Page 81 of Ready For His Rule

Her answer was going to change some things. Major things. If they had just two days, two weeks, or two months left with each other, it wouldn’t make a difference. Franzen was making that clear, here and now. If she wanted more with him, more from him, he’d exact more in return. There was an admission cost to his basement, beyond the spank-and-cuddle “playtime” they’d had so far.

Now, he wanted something more.

Wanted to lead her farther down the steps.

Into the darkness where his cravings dwelled…

If she followed, it wouldn’t be easy. Or comfortable. Or fear-free. And yet, God help her, she yearned to follow. Perhaps needed to. She craved more of that scorched dragon lust beneath his voice…and yes, the raw desire turning his touch into blazing brutality. Even now, knowing what that touch was doing to her…where it was going inside of her…

How deeply it would violate her…

But she wanted it. Throbbed and pulsed for it.

Right. There.

And everywhere…

For the first time in such a long time—perhaps the very first time—she wanted to give a man the fullness of that trust. A man who wouldn’t let her fall off the wall.

Hell. A man who was going to barrel right through the wall.

All she had to do was hand over her doubts and let him guide her through the rubble afterward.

As his Tigress.

Looking out for him too.

“I want the truth, Sir. You know I do.”

A rough hum emanated from him, conveying his dark pleasure in her submissive tone. “Very well, then. Here’s your truth, madame.” He adjusted his big body, seeming to re-secure his stance behind her, before continuing in a low growl, “The sight of my fingers fucking your ass is so incredible, I’ve soaked my pants in pre-come just thinking of putting my dick there, instead.” As he leaned forward, the weight of his body pushed his fingers tighter inside her. “And I’m not even going to ask if that makes your pussy wet, because I already know it does.” He worked himself in, twisting until the pressure became something else. A strange, sizzling, invasive pleasure, turning her into a ball of needy mush beneath him.

“I—I think I’d be okay with that, Sir,” she somehow managed without interjecting a hundred moans.

“Of course you’d be.” His soft snarl vibrated the back of her neck, raining delicious awakening down her back, connecting to the mix of pain and pleasure he gave her ass. “If I said that was how you’d be taking my cock.”

“Yes, Sir.”

And there it was. Spilling from her without thought, almost as if called out by the universe, though changing everything inside two seconds. The point of no return. The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn.

Just not forever.

As soon as all the terrorist network was shattered—and it would be, with suspects talking and a global deployment acting on the intel—the bridge would be erected again. She’d cross back, leaving her service to John Franzen’s dominance behind, restarting her service to her country. And she would serve, because she’d sworn to do so. And she’d hate the damn title at first—John was right; it was a discomfort she’d likely never get used to—but most days, she’d forget about it completely. The work would matter most. It had to.

So for right now, she chose to burn the bridge. To give over the surrender.

To know the freedom, right now, of giving in to all the heat. Of surrendering to her burnished, beautiful Dom.

“Yes, Sir. Let me take your cock, as it pleases you to give it.”

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