Page 88 of To Catch a Sub

He wanted to say that she was right. That any scene between them, including this one, would have more emotional weight and impact than it should.

If anything, their play should be lightly adversarial, like the mini-fight last night. He’d spank her, she’d slap him. That would keep the balance steady, keep everything surface level.

Except after the slap had come the kiss. And the kiss had been… Fuck.

Landon gripped both Colette’s wrists in one hand, her bones delicate in his hold, and led her to the connecting door.

Leading around a naked, collared sub always felt good, but this…

This felt right.

Fuck. And again, fuck.

Landon opened the door, ushering her in. Her room had been perfectly tidy—bed made, the clothes in the open suitcase neatly folded. His room was…not tidy. He closed the door, cutting off the light spilling in from her room, which partially obscured the mess he knew he’d left.

He guided her to a blank stretch of wall. “On your knees, facing the wall.”

Colette shot him one quick glance, then obeyed. She knelt gracefully, her knees parted, but not spread wide, her ass resting on her heels.

He turned on the overhead light, quickly making the bed, tossing clothes—both clean and dirty—into a drawer, and finally pulling out his kit.

The black canvas and nylon bag looked like it was made to hold sports equipment, with one extra long section that more than one person had assumed held a cricket bat, rather than his collection of crops and paddles.

He put the bag on the newly made bed, unzipping the u-shaped zipper that allowed him to open the bag almost flat. Loops and pockets, each of which held a specific toy or tool, were affixed to the flap. He selected the things he needed, putting them into a smaller drawstring bag.

Landon turned on the bedside lamp before flipping off the overhead and moving his kit to the far side of the bed where it was in reach but out of the way if they needed to use the bed.

The straight-backed chair was still positioned by the window. On the other side of the glass the lights of the city bounced off the low blanket of cloud cover.

Landon shifted the chair a foot further away from the window, so it was evenly placed between the wall and the bed, before sitting.

“Colette?”

“Yes, Master Landon?”

“Come here. It’s time for your spanking.”

* * *

Colette braced both hands on the wall as she rose, her knees aching a little from two nights of bending. She brushed them off before turning.

Landon raised a brow when she didn’t move. “I told you to come here.”

“I’m sorry, Master Landon.”

Barefoot and naked, she padded across the room to him, stopping with her toes almost touching the tips of his boots. Her nipples were hard and tight, partially from cold, but mostly from arousal.

“Legs spread. Unless I say otherwise, you should always have your legs spread enough that I can easily see and touch your pussy.”

His hand burrowed between her thighs as she quickly stepped wide. The two fingers that had previously explored her labia now spread them open, cool air touching her core. She moaned, tense with anticipation of the next touch—a finger or two sinking into her vagina, or once more bracketing her clit.

Instead, Landon only held her open, a visceral reminder that he controlled her body right now. If he wanted to lewdly spread her, he could and would.

“You’re more obedient than I thought you’d be,” he murmured.

“You thought I…wasn’t really submissive.” For a moment she was oddly hurt, but the emotion burned out as quickly as it had sparked to life when he immediately shook his head.

“No. But I thought your submission would look different.”