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“I’m tough,” she shot back. “You don’t scare me.”

“No?” He went toe to toe with her, staring down into her eyes, reminding her just how small she was compared to him.

Warm brown eyes, fringed with long dark lashes, studied him. “Maybe you want to hurt me a little, but I don’t believe you get off on breaking your toys.”

His brain felt as if it was liquefying. He did want to break her. He wanted to take her upstairs and do things he probably shouldn’t try with a beginner. He wanted to make her cry. He wanted to fuck her gorgeous ass.

Whoa boy. Slow the fuck down.

His heart hammered, and he struggled to get himself under control.

Mila was watching him with surprised fascination. “You do like hurting women.”

That prickled his pride. “Only willing ones with safewords.”

“Well, Goliath, give me a safeword and show me what comes next.” Her mouth twisted. “I mean, if you want to. I wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to boss you around.”

He gave a short laugh. There was something about submissives who were a bit bratty that always appealed to him. Maybe it was just because it gave him the excuse to punish them for fun. “Are you trying to request a spanking? You could use your polite words.”

“What? No!”

“Then maybe you’d better watch that pretty mouth of yours.”

“What did I do?”

“Challenging a dominant is asking for trouble,” he explained. “It’s bad manners, unless you’ve established that being bratty is going to be part of your dynamic.”

“But I’m always sarcastic! I can’t help it. I’ve been like this since I was a kid.”

He chuckled. “Did you get a lot of spankings?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Maybe they’d be helpful.?

??

She frowned at him, and he grinned back.

“So, you want to try something harder, do you?” He looked in the bag and pulled out a wooden-handled strap. Most of the bags were the same, and didn’t include a strap, but Loke knew his preferences all too well. If he’d had any lasting doubts that Loke had set up the two of them, those doubts disappeared.

“What’s that?” she asked. “It doesn’t look very scary.”

“It’s just a strap. I could just use my belt, but that might seem a little too personal.”

“Yes, you beating me while I’m standing here half naked is not personal at all.”

“You want the belt then?” He moved to take it off, but her eyes rounded.

“No, no,” she blurted. “The strap is much shorter and narrower. Let’s just start with that.”

“Your underwear are going to take away some of the sting, but you’ll get the idea.” He tested the flexibility and smoothness of the leather, although he’d never known the guys at Fitte to skimp on quality. “Do you have a safeword in mind?”

“Hmm . . . chicken?” she asked. “That’ll remind me not to give in too easily.”

He smiled at her. “Okay, I’ll remember that.”

Enough chatting.

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