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For damn sure, she never snuggled close and thanked him in her sleep.
“I wanted to,” he stated. “You have a sweet and affectionate nature and I wanted to be sweet and affectionate to you. I know there was very little warmth in the way I took you in the kitchen.”
Her hand covered his. “If I may, Sir, there was warmth in the way you took me. Was it a typical warmth? Probably not, but that doesn’t devalue it. Being different doesn’t make it less.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Explain, please.”
“You took care to prepare me. You kept me the center of your attention, even while you were taking your own pleasure. You ensured I wasn’t pushed past my limits.”
“What are you saying, little one?”
She hesitated, backing down a bit and swallowing. “I’m saying, Sir, that maybe you need to redefine how you look at warmth. It’s not just hugs and kisses; sometimes warmth can be found in the details. And sometimes it’s the details that mean the most.”
He let her words sink in. He, who had told her a month or so ago that words had meanings and she needed to recognize that fact, had just learned a much needed lesson. Wanting to catch her off guard, he took her in his arms and rolled them both so she was under him.
“You’re full of surprises. Has anyone ever told you that?” he asked.
“Once or twice, Sir. But never while we were both naked.”
“I’m not naked. I have shorts on.”
She shrugged. “In my dream, you were naked.”
She looked so adorable, on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, chatting away about being naked after dropping something so philosophical. He took her hands and brought them above her head.
“Everything about you turns me on. You’re such a complex contradiction.” He dropped his mouth to her ear. “It’s so fucking hot.”
He claimed her mouth then, taking her lips in a way that would show her without words just how much she turned him on. There was a time for words, he more than anyone knew that, but there was also a time for action. The woman in his arms had been given words, but too often there had been no follow-through.
He nibbled on her lips and explored them with his tongue, tasting the mint left behind by her recent teeth brushing. She answered back with her own actions and when she bit his bottom lip and sucked on it, he groaned in pleasure. Bloody hell, he hadn’t kissed this woman near enough.
He pressed her into the mattress with his hips, making sure she felt every damn inch of him and knew without a doubt just how much he wanted to be inside her. He thrust his cotton-covered erection against her unprotected sex and when she gasped in response, he plundered her mouth.
He kissed her until she trembled in his arms and wiggled in an effort to get closer. It would be easy as hell to ease his shorts down, spread her legs, and give them what they both wanted. Easy, but that wasn’t his plan.
Using more control than he thought should be required, he pulled away. She whimpered.
“Hands above your head, slave, and don’t move them.”
She instantly swallowed her whimper and followed his command.
“Good girl. Now show me my cunt.”
Again, there was no hesitation as she spread herself for his scrutiny.
“Very nice.” He ran a finger down her freshly shaven flesh. “I meant to inspect you earlier to ensure you prepared yourself properly. Unfortunately, I got carried away with other things, so I’ll rectify that now. Do you know, little one, the best way to make sure you didn’t miss a hair?”
Her eyebrows crinkled as she thought. “With a magnifying glass?”
“No, with my mouth.” He didn’t give her time to process his words, he simply shifted slightly, lowered his head, and gave her pussy a lick. She jerked and he bit her gently. “Be still, slave.”
Only when he was certain she would remain motionless did he resume. He made sure not to touch her clit, choosing to focus on the surrounding flesh. Only seconds had passed when he noticed her thighs start to shake. Poor Sasha, it’d probably been a long time since she had to work against her natural urges. And right now, it was taking most of her strength not to move.
He decided to help by moving his hands to rest on her upper, inner thighs. That her body stilled under his touch pleased him and he licked her slit from bottom to top, dragging the tip of his tongue so it barely pushed inside.
“So wet already, slave?” he teased. “Did your Master not fuck you enough the first time?”
She didn’t budge when she answered, “I can’t help it, Sir. What you do to my body.”
He gave her another lick. “That pleases me. Firstly, because you have such a strong reaction to me. Secondly, it ensures you’re prepared should I decide I want to use you. You’re so wet, I wouldn’t have any trouble sliding my cock deep inside your hot fuck hole.”
Her only reply was a heavy exhale through her nose.
“Right now, though, I just want to eat it.”
And with that, he stopped talking and simply enjoyed her. He teased and nibbled and sucked, savoring her taste, but more than that, delighting in the soft noises she made and the obvious effort she spent remaining still. He doubled his actions, sucking her clit and running his tongue over it.
Her legs started shaking again and, just to be evil, he thrust two fingers inside her. “Nope. Wouldn’t have any trouble at all. In fact, my cock does need relief. So be a good slave and stay still whilst I shag you and maybe I’ll let you come again.”
• • •
Just about every part of her body below the waist ached. Even after taking two ibuprofens and another soothing massage from Cole, there remained a pleasant awareness of how she’d spent the better part of the afternoon.
Her mind replayed what Julie had said about being his sex slave, but Sasha didn’t feel used. Even when he was taking his own pleasure, Cole watched her with such intensity and focus, she felt protected and cared for. And if the earth-shattering orgasms weren’t enough, whenever they finished, he would hold her close to his chest for a long time.
He’d brought the black lingerie back up the stairs and told her to put it on. She had twenty minutes before she had to be in his office. Putting the lacy panties on, she told herself it wouldn’t always be as good as it’d been today. What she was experiencing now was the honeymoon period of her slave training. She had to think that way, or else she’d never want to leave.
She brushed her teeth again. Cole had made her clean him after he’d taken her in his bed. She’d thought that after coming in both the kitchen and the bedroom, he’d need time to recover. He’d laughed at her surprise when he grew hard again in her mouth. He didn’t finish, though. Instead he’d told her to clean up and meet him in his office.
He was sitting at his desk when she entered, minutes later. His glasses were perched haphazardly on his nose and he frowned at something on his laptop. Not wanting to disturb him, she knelt in the middle of the room.
“By my side, Sasha,” he said, without looking up.
Unexpectedly pleased at his request, she started to stand.
“Crawl.” He still hadn’t looked up from his computer.
She froze, slightly caught off guard by his request. She’d crawled in play before, but they weren’t currently in a scene.
Except she was in a scene all day, every day, for the next two weeks.
She crawled as quickly as possible to his side and knelt beside his chair with her head bowed. As soon as she stilled herself, his hand fisted her hair.
“You hesitated.”
Denial danced on her lips. Or an excuse. If she thought really fast, she could probably come up with several good ones. But her heart raced as she realized the truth and knew there was only one thing to do.
“I did, Sir.” The fingers in her hair tightened and she added, “I’m sorry.”
“I had planned for us to spend the evening relaxing, perhaps watching a movie. Now, however, I feel your time would be better spent writing one thousand
words on crawling, its symbolism, and its meaning.”
She dug her nails into her upper thighs. No! she wanted to yell. She wanted to spend the evening with him, watching a movie, not working on a stupid writing assignment. But the hand on her head reminded her of her purpose in being in his house and she replied with, “Yes, Sir.”
“In the last sentence I spoke, did the word its have an apostrophe or not?”
What the fuck? Where did that come from?
“No apostrophe, Sir.”
