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His eyes are impenetrable as I study his face. A shudder runs through me at what I’d let this man do to me. “Because you were insolent… and I liked it. Did you like it, Charlize?”
“I squirted in your car — I think you know the answer to that.”
He holds my chin, forcing it up so my eyes meet his. “Don’t be embarrassed around me. You have a beautiful body and you come beautifully, too. We’ll just have to get some towels for next time.”
Next time… Oh, boy.
How fucking embarrassing. I want to curl up in a ball and die. I mean, it felt amazing, but that’s not the point.
“Such a charmer.” I flounce past him toward the bathroom. I need to escape and shower away my humiliation in private. I don’t expect him to be there when I come out anyway.
I take my time, washing my hair with the Bottega Veneta shampoo and conditioner. Of course he has designer products in his guest shower. I wouldn’t put it past him to have anything but the best.
I wince a little as the warm water hits my body, and my butt cheeks. I turn and have a look and I see they are still pink. I smile to myself. Alistair Devereaux really is a dark horse. I wash my body and when I’m done, I pull a soft, white fluffy towel around me.
The floors are heated and as I dry myself, I squirt some of the same Bottega Veneta body lotion on that smells like sandalwood and spice. He has good taste, at least.
I finger comb my hair and pull my pjs on, then I turn back to the bedroom.
He’s still sitting there, looking at his phone. His head turns when I enter.
“Oh,” I say. “I thought you’d have gone to bed.”
“Come here.”
I do as he says, standing before him as he pats the mattress next to him.
“You’re really going to rub cream on my derrière?”
“Yes, Charlize. Let’s not make a big deal out of it. Drop your pants and crawl over my knee.”
Holy shit. This is just like in the car. I know for a fact that Alistair is obsessed with my — in his words — perfect little pussy. The idea that he’s going to do this sends a rush of excitement through my body.
I do as he says, turning so my ass is facing him and I crawl over his lap. His eyes drop to my ass and he winces.
“I did go hard on you.”
“I liked it.”
“If you didn’t, would you tell me?”
“Of course.”
The cap comes off the tube and a few moments later, he’s rubbing the stuff on my cheek. Oh God, that feels good, but different somehow; intimate.
“I meant what I said earlier; you never have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m also not a porcelain doll who can’t be touched or played with. I want everything you have to give me.”
“You might not be so sure when I get my cane out.”
My breath hitches in my chest. “Your cane?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll work up to that.”
“You really are into some kinky shit.”
“Does that shock you?”
