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“What is it with you and stubborn women?” Anya asked.
“I like them. Against my better judgment.”
That got a little laugh out of her. “I’m not stubborn. There’s a difference between stubborn and, you know…determined.”
“And that is?”
“I don’t know but there has to be a difference, yes? Why would they be two different words if there wasn’t?”
“Good point.” He turned again, looked at the door, knew he should go out it.
He didn’t.
“It’s only this…I know a lot of kinky guys,” Daniel said. “And some are great and some aren’t. You don’t get to pick your winning bidder.”
“I know.”
“And I’m no sub but I know it’s a lot of work, a lot of trust putting yourself into someone else’s hands and if you don’t know that person and you’ve never done it before—”
“I’ve done it before.”
Daniel looked at her, shocked. “You’ve done it before? Kink? I thought—”
“I didn’t have sex with him. I just did, you know… I submitted to him.”
A smile of pride played across her sweet pink lips. She blushed lightly. His body temperature went up a degree or two. Or ten.
“Monsieur,” she whispered. “Just once.”
Kingsley. That lucky French bastard.
“What did he do to you?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. He didn’t even touch me.”
“He doesn’t have to touch you to dominate you. Anya,” Daniel said again, this time in his sternest voice. “What did he do to you? Tell me.”
Her face turned scarlet at what must have been a potent memory. Daniel’s pulse raced and his groin tightened at the thoughts running through his head, the various scenarios. He could easily think of ten or twelve things he’d love to make Anya submit to–acts that would leave her a virgin but certainly a great deal less innocent.
“He…watched me.”
Daniel’s head swam at the image those three words conjured. The first time he saw Anya in her little sailor dress…those high heels with her lacy bobby socks… He could just see her reaching under her dress and pulling her panties down and off. Knowing Kingsley, he would have made her give them to him. Kingsley would have ordered her to lay down on the bed or on one of his fainting couches. He would have stood over her and watched as she pulled her dress up to her hips, opened her legs, and began touching herself.
“Kingsley ordered you to masturbate for him. And you did it?”
“Oui.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. But he heard it.
“You enjoyed submitting to him, to that?”
“It was…it was everything I wanted it to be. Except, you know, maybe not with him. But I know I’ll be fine when the time comes.”
“You think you’ll be fine letting a total stranger order you around, beat you, and fuck you? He could be a sadist, a blood-play fetishist. He could be into rape-play or breath-play. Or worse he could be as ugly and Canadian as I am.”
Anya laughed nervously. “I’ll survive one night.”
“Do you really want to be in this auction? Really?”
She was silent a moment, then said, “No. But I need to be in it.”
