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She hissed in a breath and tried not to move, even though her body was desperate for more. In about half a second he found her clit and rubbed it. The thin fabric didn’t provide her with any protection from the sensation.
“You’re wet.”
You don’t say, Master Investigator. It took her a moment to get control of her tongue. “Yes, Sir. I think you know why, Sir.”
He smirked. Cocky bastard.
Just when she was about to grind up against his hand, he withdrew it.
Ugh! “Are we done yet?” She tried not to sound whiny, but she couldn’t take much more of this. Not without making a serious attempt at jumping his bones. And that would end up with them both naked and in bed together again, which she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do.
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he answered. “As a Dom, it’s my right to inspect my property anytime and anyplace I want to. The kitchen in the middle of dinner. A deserted hallway at your best friend’s wedding. In the dungeon—”
“Dungeon?” He couldn’t possibly have a real dungeon.
“Yes. Subs are definitely inspected in my dungeon.”
“Like, a for-real, legit dungeon?
Here, in your house?”
His answering smile was wicked. “Yes, but I’m not sure you’re ready to see it.”
She scoffed, then narrowed her eyes. Who was he to tell her what she was ready for? That was a challenge if she’d ever heard one. “I’m not scared. I want to see it.”
“How did I know you’d say that?” He sighed, then turned on his heel. “Follow me, then, brave girl.”
When she stepped in line with him, he stopped. “Ah, ah. A sub walks behind her Dom. Eyes down unless he tells her otherwise.”
She sputtered for a moment. “But . . . but what if I walk into something?”
“You have to keep an eye on what’s happening around you, but you don’t have to rubberneck to do that. I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything. It’s a Dom’s job to protect his sub. She’s his greatest treasure, remember.”
“The greatest treasure part sounds pretty good.”
He laughed. “So you just want to be spoiled without giving your Dom anything in return?”
She shrugged. “When you say it like that . . .”
Still laughing, he turned toward the hallway and said, “Come on, princess. Let’s see how brave you really are.”
With a sigh, she followed behind him, keeping her gaze on the floor, trusting him to steer her around obstacles and stairwells. They padded down the corridor then he stopped in front of a door.
Purposefully, she bumped into his back, just to make a point.
He turned, and she could feel the heat of his glare, even as she stared at the floor. “You can lift your head, Trouble.”
She did and felt some satisfaction in that. God, she really was trouble. Maybe submission wasn’t her thing after all.
When she looked up at his face, his sinister expression made her wither. At the same time, a tingling rushed to her pussy. She clenched her thighs together, hoping for a miniorgasm. When he looked at her like that—as if she were the entire focus of his attention, as if he not only owned her but desired her—something switched on inside her. And it wasn’t just her libido. It was as if she suddenly cared about everything and anything he thought, felt, wanted, needed. She was not only in tune but desperate to please him. There was also a hopeless affection growing deep down, where she couldn’t seem to uproot it. But, why? They weren’t even together. Why did this weird switch in her brain flip only for him? More importantly, how could she get it to turn off so she could keep some control? Right now, it felt like it was slowly slipping through her fingers.
After he opened the door and flipped on a light, he crooked a finger at her.
She paused, unable to make her body follow him. She’d been so confident a moment ago. Now, her courage had abandoned her.
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared,” she blurted.
