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He shook his head, smiling. "I won't let you."

"That's like saying you can control the weather. You can't."

"I can control the weather, too."

I caught his grin and couldn’t help but smile. Reluctantly.

"I know this is all new to you. I know you're afraid." He pulled me against him, his arms around me, his hand caught in my hair, his obvious erection pressed against my belly. He desired me. He wanted me to know. To feel it.

Then, just when I thought he'd push me a bit, he released me and returned to the couch, sitting in the middle once more. He meant what he said. He wouldn’t force me to do anything. It would be my choice, but with him being the way he was – so desirable, so powerful, so… knowing, how could I resist him?

I stood in the kitchen for a moment, still debating with myself. I pushed a few dishes around, pretending to wash a cup, but finally, I gave up pretending to be busy and returned to the living room to stand in front of him once more.

"Just theoretical, but if I was really your sub-in-training, what would you normally do at this point?"

He examined me, briefly catching my eye. "I'd suggest that you come and sit with me and we can talk some more."

I sat on the edge of the couch, not touching him, not looking at him, my hands crossed on my lap.

"Did you go to a Catholic school as a child?"

I glanced up, frowning. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You have very good posture. Your hands are folded." He pointed to my clasped hands.

I glanced down at them and then unclasped them, smiling a bit ruefully.

"Yes, they expected us to sit properly. The nuns gave us the cane if we were slovenly in our dress or behavior."

He nodded. "A good Catholic school upbringing. Making uptight women out of excited little girls full of life and promise. Only the really rebellious ones escaped with their libidos fully intact."

"Yeah, the nuns really did a number on us."

Then he patted his knee. "If you were really my sub-in-training, I'd tell you to come closer. Sit on my lap. So why don't you?"

I frowned. "Am I a child?"

"No," he said. "But I like to sit close together at first. Just touching for a while with all our clothes on. If you decide to stop at any time, you just have to get up. I won't prevent you."

I stood up and moved a bit closer, standing directly in front of him.

"How do I…"

He reached up and took my arms, pulling me down on top of him so that I sat on his lap with my legs to the side, my arms around his neck. It was far too close at first and I trembled a bit to feel his arms slide around me, one arm around my waist, the other resting on my hip. I tried to avoid looking in his eyes as much as possible, and he didn't push, but finally I felt stupid and met his gaze, his blue eyes so gorgeous with those thick dark lashes.

Oh God...

He adjusted me a bit, grasping my hips and moving me a couple of inches. My thigh pressed against his erection, which I could tell was now hard as rock.

"Sorry," he said, grimacing a bit. "You're pressing just a bit too hard on my…" He let his voice trail off. He moved his hips beneath me. "That's better."

He wanted me to know he was aroused. I couldn’t help but respond, closing my eyes as my flesh throbbed, a pleasant ache building in me.

"You smell so good," he said, breathing in. He slid one hand up my thigh and just let it rest on my hip.

"It's my perfume," I said. "It's called Mystique."

"I wasn't referring to your perfume."

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