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Her glower was back, which was good because he’d missed seeing it.
When he held out the toast again, she opened her mouth and accepted it daintily, but made sure to scrape her teeth over the pad of his thumb.
Trouble. That’s what her parents should have named her.
She took another bite of egg, then another, then tried to snatch one of the toast pieces. He was faster, and blocked the toast with his hand.
“I told you I would feed you the toast.”
She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, leaning forward to accept the piece he’d picked up. He placed it in her mouth and then held his fingers in front of her.
“Clean up this mess.”
She chewed and swallowed, then leaned in again to lick the butter from his fingers. Although he’d never say so, he was amazed she hadn’t purposely misunderstood and tried to wipe them off with a napkin, just to be a brat. It seemed her most likely response, but then again she probably didn’t want to be predictable. Her little tongue lapped at the grease on his fingers, apparently wanting to do a thorough job of things.
Like, really fucking thorough. He watched her pretty mouth and tongue make long, agonizing work of doing what she’d been told to do.
Fuck.
Within moments his dick was jealous and on the verge of taking over his brain. It would be so easy to grab her by the shoulders and drag her across the table to suck his dick. Sadly, the woman couldn’t live strictly on a come diet, so he had to make sure she ingested enough food to keep her pretty curves intact.
He yanked his hand back and ate, determined to enjoy his meal even though his little submissive was being incredibly distracting, her half-naked beauty making it difficult to pay enough attention to taste what he was eating. How was it possible for her to be eating like an animal and still make it look sexy? He’d meant for it to be humiliating—especially since she wasn’t into pet play—but all he managed to do was make her slightly physically uncomfortable, and make himself extremely physically uncomfortable. His hard-on was bent at a regrettable angle and he wished he could adjust it without her noticing.
When he was finished with his own meal, he sipped his coffee and watched her until she sat back too.
“May I have some coffee?” she asked through gritted teeth.
He stacked their plates and set them aside, then waved her closer and patted his lap. Although she made a sound of disgust, she crawled to him and allowed him to settle her on his thighs.
Even through their layers of clothing he could feel the heat of her pussy. Gingerly, he handed her his mug.
“Now don’t spill it,” he warned.
“But this is your coffee. I prefer mine black.”
“You should remember that for tomorrow. You’re lucky I’m not making you lick it up from the saucer.”
“Is it too late to add fucking with my coffee to my list of hard limits?” she asked.
He arched a brow and was about to ask her if she was serious when she took a sip. She grimaced and wrinkled her nose adorably.
“How do you have any teeth left in your head drinking this much sugar every day?”
He cupped one of her breasts in his palm, almost growling with pleasure at the weight of it in his hand. He toggled the little stainless piercing and watched with avid fascination as the dusty rose of her nipple tightened even more than it already had been. Although he’d anticipated her distraction, he almost wasn’t fast enough to right the coffee cup in her hands before it spilled all over them.
“I warned you not to spill it, baby. Do you need me to hold it for you or are you going to be a big girl?”
Her lips drew back from her teeth in an adorable silent snarl, but she didn’t actually say anything he could punish her for.
She took another sip, and he slid his fingers over her other breast, stroking the underside gently, the feel of her silken skin orgasmic to his hand. How did she not stay home all day playing with her tits?
By the time she finished his coffee, she was squirming in his lap and wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. His cock was still jammed sideways in his jeans, each pulse of it a small agony.
When he patted her thigh and urged her up onto her feet, she glared at him suspiciously.
“Let me guess, you have no plans to take me back upstairs right now.”
“Some of us didn’t just come here to get laid,” he shot back. “I need to have a better look around and take notes about what types of construction I’m going to need and where. I can’t call this a BDSM lodge without making a few adjustments.”
