Clarissa was biting her lip, one of her tells of both excitement and uncertainty. “Well, I’m not sure. I like it when you hold me down and stuff. Is that what I should do? Ropes? Paddles? A gag? Will you need a safe word?”
Roan traced his fingers up her sleeve, reminding her of how much larger he was than she. The contrast of his coarse hair on his forearms against her slender arm was striking. “I won’t need one. Don’t worry. We can start slow. You don’t have to become a dominatrix.”
“Right. No pressure.” She downed her glass of wine and set her jaw. “I’m ready.” And didn’t move.
Well, his sweet buttercup would need instruction in this, too.
Just what he liked. Even in this, he’d be guiding her, and the throb of his dick got louder.
He debated how it would be best to fulfill her desire in the least threatening and most encouraging way. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch for a moment?”
“The couch,” she echoed and went over to the living room, sitting primly with her hands folded among the new pillows. The twisting of her fingers gave away her indecision. “What do I do now? Should I yell at you, throw things at you, spank you?”
“Start simple.” He waited, his blood heating as his pulse climbed. His good girl was radiating his favorite combination of innocence and hunger. “Give me an order.”
“Come over and eat me out?” she tried.
Her command was delivered with the strength of a paper cup trying to hold back the ocean. Roan kept his face straight. “How about ‘crawl to me’?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, crawl to me.”
He walked to the carpet and got on his hands and knees, moving toward her at a slow pace. As he closed in, he kept his gaze on her face, knowing his expression was communicating his desire and hunger.
When he reached her, he sat back on his heels without touching her, less than a foot away.
Her breathing sped up and she gripped a pillow tightly. He understood what she saw, a starved male choosing to obey her because he could.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” she said, her eyes roaming across his posture.
“Because you’re supposed to tell me what you want me to do. I don’t do things without your permission. So, if you want me to touch you, you have to tell me to touch you. You’re in charge.” He kept his body motionless.
She reached out and set her hand on the top of his head. “Okay, I want you to touch me.”
He waited. “Where?”
“Um, just start with my legs.” She bit her lip again in the adorable, uncertain way he obsessed over.
He slowly ran his hands up her ankles, acknowledging in his mind that dominance was probably not a natural position for her. It was key that he let her play this game while maintaining his control. The air was heavy with unfulfilled tension as his erection pushed against the confines of his pants. She might have been trying to be dominant, but it was blending with their usual dynamic.
When he stopped his exploration at the edge of her skirt, she fidgeted. “Am I supposed to tell you to do more—like remove my clothes or remove your clothes?”
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
She fidgeted again, and he could feel her heart rate speeding up through her skin. “But I want to try things with you. What do other people do? And how?”
He circled his thumb on the inner dimple of her knee. “Think about how I talk to you—command and control over what you can and cannot do. Now imagine you’re allowed to torture me, torment me, and deny me taking pleasure in your body.”
“Oh,” she murmured. He could see her pupils dilating, her chest rising more quickly, and her nipples tightening through her dress. “I’m listening. More.”
Such a dangerous word. More with her was never enough.
“You can tell me to eat out your sweet, sweet pussy until you’ve had three orgasms. You could spank me, whip me, tease my cock—but I’m not allowed to come until you give me permission. I’m not allowed to put my cock in you until I’ve been a very good boy for you. You can make me beg if that’s what you want.”
Her fingers were tight in his hair. “But you already do that. You lay me down on this couch and use me, give me orgasms, pleasure me.”
He nodded, sliding his hand a little farther up her legs. “Same action, but then you’re begging me to take you. You’re still getting your pleasure, still getting your orgasms—but I’m in charge of how you get them. The anticipation of taking my pleasure in you as you follow my commands still has the same end point. Same action, different emotion behind it.”
She let go of his hair, her chest heaving. “Okay. I don’t think I’m interested in you being submissive to me. I want you to use me—to take me. I like that you’re bigger, stronger, older, muscular—all the bad-daddy Roan that I can take.”
