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“My good girl does slutty things when I tell her to. In return, the responsibility for that decision is mine.”
She straightened and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
“Should I do it while I’m kneeling here or stand up, Banner?”
His heart thumped emphatically. He hoped she couldn’t hear it.
“It would probably be easier if you stood.” He leaned back in his chair, working on looking like a cocky bastard rather than letting her see that she’d caught him off guard.
Kate placed a gentle hand on his knee to steady herself as she rose, and the intimacy of the gesture moved him from uncertainty to a more familiar self-assurance.
She was hesitating so hard it looked painful. When she fiddled with the bottom edge of her T-shirt, stalling, he corrected her.
“Look at me while you do it. I haven’t given you permission to look away.”
“Yes, Sir.” When she moved to comply, her reluctance to disrobe made her movements slow, piquing his interest more than she had probably meant to. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m not usually this forward.”
“Has anyone made you do this before?”
“Undress while they watched me? Not like this. Maybe they watched when I undressed, but not so . . . intention
ally.” The shirt had just reached the bottom curve of her pert breasts, then slid upward to reveal hardened nipples.
Banner drew a shaky breath. It didn’t matter that this was almost vanilla, his dick ached for her. Sure, her T-shirt had been skin tight, but naked was so much more interesting. She pulled the shirt over her head, threw it beside his chair, then slid her thumbs into the waistband of her yoga pants. He’d meant to keep her clothed for today, at least. He really had. But he couldn’t resist the temptation of seeing the lovely body her clothing always hinted at.
“I’m not perfect,” she warned shyly.
“Perfection bores me. Show me what isn’t perfect and I’ll give you my opinion.”
“I have a big butt. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do.”
“Show me.”
She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
He couldn’t bring himself to correct her for calling him “Sir” again. It sounded lovely coming from her mouth. “Turn your back to me and push your pants down all the way to your ankles.”
She whimpered but turned her back, then started sliding the pants slowly down, baring herself to him inch by inch. To him her ass was round and perfect—the type that begged for a Master’s hand, or maybe his teeth. He adjusted his hard-on through his jeans as he watched her bend all the way over, then snap back up as though she were made of impatient elastics. She kicked her pants in the direction of her shirt then turned to face him, covering her pussy with her hand.
“Did I say you were allowed to hide yourself from me?”
“No, Sir.”
He ignored her as she let her shielding hand fall away. Instead, he slid open the small side table drawer to retrieve the plain leather collar he’d bought for her, in case they ever reached this point. It was just to get her used to it, for now. This one meant nothing, other than that he had a collar fetish.
“Kneel on the ottoman.” He pointed at the round leather platform, which could be used to prop his feet up or put refreshments on. It would serve a much more nefarious purpose today.
She backed away from him toward the platform, using her legs to find it since she’d apparently remembered that she wasn’t to look away. Banner took some satisfaction in that, at least. It took a moment to arrange herself on it, knees pressed tightly together and hair falling forward to cover her breasts. He got up from his chair and approached her slowly.
“Your ass is as charming as the rest of you. If you insult your body again in my presence, you will be punished.”
“But it’s mine! Why shouldn’t I be able to say what I want about it?”
Her grabbed Kate’s chin and stared into her eyes. “Because when you insult yourself, you insult my taste in women. I won’t tolerate it.” He brushed her hair back so that it stopped obscuring his view, then tapped the inside of her knee to nudge her legs farther apart. Her pussy was completely devoid of hair. Naughty girl. For a moment he slid his fingers up the inside of her thigh to test her reaction. There was no cringing back, just a nervous silence. He stopped midthigh and withdrew his hand, then hid his amusement when she exhaled heavily.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding up the collar.
“A collar, Sir?”
