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“All right...”
“I think you mean, yes, Sir,” he interrupted.
His stern tone immediately had her core tightening.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied and kicked off her high heels. She hitched up her gown and wriggled out of her tights and panties.
“Do you want the tights as well?” she asked softly.
“No, put those in your evening purse. Give me the panties.”
Handing them over, she cringed at how damp the crotch felt. David took them and drew them to his nose, sniffing before shoving them into his trouser pocket.
“You might have sounded reluctant, but your panties tell another tale,” he growled.
She clenched her thighs together to stop the rush of liquid arousal at his words. The last thing she wanted was a stain on the back of her lovely dress. Conflicting emotions filled her: fury that he cared not one whit about her precious new gown and excitement at what just occurred between them.
The same man who’d let them in now appeared to be their waiter and delivered a tray of hors d’oeuvres consisting of oysters, prawns, other fish, and pates coupled with sauces and various kinds of bread. He set the tray down and melted away.
David pulled the tray toward him. “Tonight I feed you.”
“But I’m not...”
He silenced her with a hand over her mouth. She widened her eyes at him. What game was he playing?
“If you tell me again that you are not a little, I shall spank you, and right here. Tonight is about adult time and all you have to do is obey me as your head of household, which is what you agreed to in our domestic discipline contract. Okay? Nod if you accept, shake your head if you want a spanking.”
Well, that’s my dress ruined!she thought crossly, as a gush of dampness seeped between her thighs.
She nodded. He released his hand and tapped the end of her nose.
He fed her titbits of bread topped with delicious selections from the tray.
“Drink,” he told her between mouthfuls. She came to understand that each dish had been selected to enhance the champagne, and vice versa.
Pushing the tray away from him, David turned in her direction. His hand snaked down under the table and rested on her thigh. She felt him push the fabric up; it slithered sensuously up her leg. Fingers stroked the top of her inner thigh. Blood thrummed through her veins.
“David?”
A sharp sting landed on her sensitive flesh; he’d slapped her! She recalled his instructions earlier.
“Sorry, I meant Sir. I forgot,” she apologised. He said nothing, but she enjoyed his gentle caress as he soothed the spot he’d smacked.
The first graze of his fingers on her cleft caused her to hold her breath. Surely he didn’t intend to... but he did. His finger on her clit elicited a moan. Unconsciously she shifted her legs apart to give him better access.
“You are so wet for me,” he whispered. An answering groan was all she could manage. The speed with which he tapped and rubbed was about to make her come.
“Noo,” she huffed out the word.
“Come for me, baby, come for Daddy,” he ordered huskily, and she did despite, or because of, his use of the word Daddy. Cresting, she pressed her pussy against his hand, unable to stop the waves of pleasure that flooded her system.
When she came to she was leaning against David, supported by his arm around her shoulders. The hors d’oeuvres tray had gone. She sat up.
“Did the waiter take our tray?” she asked in horror.
“Evidently, yes,” David replied, sounding unconcerned.
Penny buried her face in his chest; she felt as well as heard his rumble of mirth.
